West City—Capsule Corporation's estate basked in the warm afternoon sun.
Perfectly trimmed lawns, carefully arranged flowerbeds, and a massive mansion that looked like it belonged in the future… everything screamed wealth and technological dominance. The entire place practically radiated the power of the Briefs family.
"Dad! Mom! I'm home!"
Bulma's bright voice shattered the courtyard's calm. She strode into the garden with a spring in her step, her face glowing with the double joy of returning home and having a boyfriend.
Behind her walked a tall, handsome young man with an unusually composed presence—
Vitelli.
Mrs. Briefs, who had been leisurely pruning an ornamental plant, looked up at the sound. The moment she noticed the striking young man behind her daughter, her eyes lit up like she'd just found a new hobby.
She set down her gardening shears and smiled warmly.
"Oh my~ Bulma's back! And this is… your boyfriend?"
Bulma instantly puffed up her chest, practically sparkling with pride.
"Yep! Mom, this is Vitelli—my boyfriend! And he's going to be living with us from now on! Also… he's super strong!"
She made sure to emphasize that last part.
Mrs. Briefs walked over enthusiastically, openly appraising Vitelli from head to toe—his sharp facial features, his broad shoulders, the flawless lines of muscle you could practically feel even through his clothes.
Then she beamed.
"Oh my, welcome to the Briefs estate, darling little Vitelli~ Such a handsome boy! How about you go on a date with Auntie?"
"Mom!!"
Bulma exploded instantly, cheeks turning bright red as she stomped her foot.
"What are you even saying?! Vitelli is my boyfriend!"
Vitelli, for once, didn't know how to respond. Even he was caught off guard by that level of… aggressive hospitality. A rare hint of embarrassment rose to his face.
He quickly bowed, formal and polite.
"Hello, Mrs. Briefs. I'm Bulma's boyfriend, Vitelli. Thank you for taking me in. I'll be imposing for a while."
Mrs. Briefs laughed even harder, waving her hand.
"Oh goodness, don't be so stiff, sweetheart. Just treat this like your own home. Bulma finding such a wonderful boyfriend… her father will be happy too."
Even while she spoke, those smiling eyes kept circling back to Vitelli like she was silently evaluating him.
Vitelli's instincts—sharpened by battle—didn't detect killing intent.
But he still felt… unsettled.
Bulma's mom is dangerously open.
Bulma's actually… kinda conservative by comparison.
And just like that, Vitelli settled into life at the Briefs estate.
Under Bulma's introduction, he also met her father—the founder of Capsule Corporation:
Dr. Brief.
Messy blue hair. White lab coat. A middle-aged man whose eyes contained nothing but pure scientific curiosity. Strangely enough, Vitelli felt more at ease around him.
Vitelli didn't waste time with small talk.
"Dr. Brief, thank you for letting me stay. I have a spaceship. As a token of gratitude, I'd like to give it to you for research. And I'd also like you to build me a gravity chamber for training."
He handed over a capsule containing the ship, along with a detailed list of gravity-room requirements.
Dr. Brief took the capsule and his eyes immediately shone—clearly far more interested in the spaceship than in his potential future son-in-law.
"A gravity room? No problem! Leave it to me! This is fascinating!"
And with that, he turned around and marched straight into his workshop—capsule and papers in hand—forgetting to even say goodbye.
Bulma's cheeks puffed up, displeased. She grabbed Vitelli's arm and started shaking it.
"Hey! Vitelli! What's that supposed to mean? I can help you build a gravity room too! Why do you have to ask my dad? You don't trust my ability?!"
Vitelli looked at her pouty expression… and the corner of his mouth curved into a wicked grin.
Without warning, he scooped her up effortlessly and slung her over his shoulder like a sack—then walked briskly toward her room.
"Ah! What are you doing?! Put me down! Jerk!"
Bulma squealed and struggled, her little fists thumping against his back—though it felt more like playful protest than real resistance.
Vitelli chuckled and leaned close to her ear, whispering so only she could hear.
"It's not that I don't trust you, my dear Bulma. It's just… your time isn't going to be free anymore."
"Y-you're talking nonsense!"
Bulma's face turned scarlet, and her struggling immediately weakened.
Bang. The door shut.
For a moment, muffled protests and flustered yelps echoed from inside…
Then slowly… they were replaced by a different kind of rhythm.
Youthful energy and love braided together into a reckless, sweet melody that spilled into the afternoon.
From then on, Vitelli's days became strangely full—and strangely peaceful.
Mornings were for training.
Without a gravity room yet, he had to rely on heavy-duty alloy blocks Dr. Brief arranged for him, pushing his body with weighted drills, brutal sprints, and extreme dodge practice. Every session squeezed the last drop of potential from his muscles.
The repeated clang—clang—clang of metal striking metal often made Mrs. Brief pause mid-watering, uneasy.
Afternoons, however, mostly belonged to Bulma.
Sometimes he stayed beside her in the lab while she built bizarre inventions. Sometimes she dragged him into West City's shopping districts. Sometimes he simply sat quietly next to her, watching her study and sketch designs—completely absorbed.
Vitelli quickly learned that Bulma's talent wasn't "smart"—it was terrifying.
Complex formulas and engineering blueprints looked alive in her hands.
And with daily closeness, their relationship heated up fast. Vitelli found himself enjoying the warmth of Earth… and the warmth Bulma brought even more.
Then the peace cracked.
Bulma's university sent her start-of-term notice.
"Ugh! This is SO annoying!"
The night before classes began, Bulma lay in Vitelli's arms, pouting aggressively.
"I already taught myself everything they're going to teach! I even helped write some of the textbooks! Why do I have to waste time going to school?! It's meaningless!"
She clung to him like an octopus, refusing to loosen her grip.
"I don't want to leave you even for a second…"
Vitelli smiled softly, his heart unexpectedly tender.
He stroked her smooth blue hair and spoke gently.
"Alright, Bulma. School is still part of life. Besides, it's in West City. We're not separating across the universe. Just treat it like a change of scenery—meet a few new people."
"Hmph! I don't want new people! They can't even understand quantum mechanics!" she huffed.
("I can't either," she added under her breath, as if that somehow made it worse.)
The next morning, at Bulma's insistence, Vitelli personally drove her to campus.
Even at the gate, she still clung to his arm, dragging her feet.
"Think about me," she muttered. "And come pick me up early."
"Yes, yes. I'll pick you up early."
Vitelli leaned in and kissed her forehead—finally convincing the genius in love to step through the school gates.
He watched her go, still turning back every few steps.
Leaning against the car door, he shook his head with a helpless, indulgent smile.
"Good grief. Girls in love are terrifying. Even a Saiyan like me is getting melted."
But… being needed, being relied on—
It felt warm. New. Addictive.
Now he had time.
Where should he go?
Dr. Brief was still working on the gravity chamber. For now, that wasn't available.
And regular weighted training… was becoming useless. The gains had dropped to nearly nothing.
Vitelli needed something that could truly stimulate his body again.
"Right… Korin Tower."
Senzu Beans. Sacred Water. A cat hermit who'd lived for centuries.
And more importantly—Senzu Beans were strategic resources. In the future, they'd be priceless in real combat. He needed a stockpile.
Decision made, he didn't hesitate.
First, he went to West City's biggest seafood market and—using Bulma's card—bought nearly every stall's freshest fish, stuffing them into two full Capsules.
Then, under the stunned stares of merchants and pedestrians, he shot into the sky like a missile, becoming a streak of light heading toward the legendary tower that linked the mortal world to the heavens.
High above, at the top of Korin Tower…
Korin, clutching his beloved staff, had been dozing lazily—
When suddenly every strand of fur on his body exploded upright.
A powerful, pure aura—carrying an indescribable pressure—was rapidly approaching from the horizon.
This presence was beyond any human martial artist Korin had ever met.
Even Kami's aura, by comparison, felt… gentle.
"W-What…?!"
Korin nearly jumped out of his skin. He tightened his grip on his staff, wide cat eyes locked on the clouds below.
"This ki… who is it? Friend or enemy?"
Vitelli had deliberately suppressed his outward aura to around 500—but to Earth's current era, especially to someone as sensitive as Korin, it was still like a bonfire in the night.
Korin hesitated.
Then sighed.
"Running won't help. His target is clearly here. And… there's no obvious malice or killing intent."
So Korin forced himself to stand tall at the platform entrance, putting on his most "mysterious immortal master" expression.
Whoosh!
A figure pierced the clouds like an arrow and landed without making a sound.
Vitelli smiled politely at the white-furred cat holding a staff—who was clearly tense.
"Yo. You're Korin, the guardian of Korin Tower, right?"
He casually tossed over two Capsules.
"Nice to meet you. A small gift. Fresh sea fish—collected from West City."
Korin caught them on instinct, blinking in confusion.
Fish?
That hit his weak spot.
Then Vitelli continued, smiling as if discussing the weather.
"How about I trade this for some Senzu Beans… and Sacred Water?"
As he spoke, he released just the tiniest fraction of his true pressure—not enough to be hostile, just enough to make the scale of him unmistakable.
Buzz—
A heavy, suffocating pressure instantly wrapped around Korin.
His paws trembled. His fur stood up again.
Korin forced a smile that screamed: Do I even have the option to refuse?
"Of… of course," Korin said carefully. "Please wait a moment."
He moved stiffly, fetched an empty ceramic jar, and filled it with plump, glossy Senzu Beans—then carefully carried it back.
"Here are the Senzu Beans you wanted. As for the Sacred Water… I won't lie. That stuff is poisonous. Are you sure you want it?"
Vitelli took the jar, feeling the weight, and nodded with satisfaction.
Then he paused at the mention of poison.
"…Never mind. I'll pass."
He had no interest in gambling with future health problems.
The transaction ended far more smoothly than expected.
"Thanks, Korin."
He weighed the jar again, then added casually:
"Oh—and a suggestion. If you've got free time, grow more Senzu Beans. Trust me. They'll be extremely useful in the future."
He didn't explain further.
And without waiting for Korin's reaction—without even glancing at the faintly visible Heavenly Lookout above—
Vitelli leapt away, becoming a streak of light heading back toward West City.
He vanished into the sea of clouds in the blink of an eye.
Korin stood there, holding the fish Capsules, stunned.
"…Extremely useful? Who the heck was that guy?"
An odd heaviness settled in his chest.
Above, on the Lookout…
Kami and Popo stood at the edge of the platform like statues.
Kami's eyes were closed. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His grip on the staff turned white-knuckled.
Popo remained expressionless—but his gaze was fixed below.
The moment Vitelli's aura appeared on Korin Tower, Kami's eyes snapped open, horror and gravity in his pupils.
"He went to Korin Tower! Even suppressed… this ki is unbelievable. It's more refined than before. Popo… I think he's grown stronger again."
Popo nodded slowly.
"Yes, Kami-sama. His ki is like a dormant living volcano. Korin seems to be… trading with him."
Kami's throat tightened. His attention sharpened, prepared for the worst—prepared for Vitelli to rise straight up and visit the Lookout.
But…
It didn't happen.
Vitelli's aura paused briefly… then turned around, speeding away toward West City.
"He… he's leaving?"
Kami froze, genuinely dumbfounded.
He'd imagined countless conversations. Arguments. Conflicts.
He never imagined the man wouldn't even glance at the Lookout.
Popo's voice held the faintest note of relief.
"Yes. He left. It seems… he has no intention of disturbing the Lookout."
Kami stared into the now-calm clouds, emotions tangled.
The pressure was gone.
But the questions only grew heavier.
"What does he want? Was Korin Tower just… for Senzu Beans? And what did he mean by 'the future'?"
Vitelli's patterns didn't match anything Kami understood.
Was he truly just… living on Earth?
The thought felt absurd.
Yet Kami had no better explanation.
In the end, all he could do was sigh and return deeper into the Lookout.
Vitelli existed like a blade hanging above the world—one no one could stop.
But at least…
If the sealed evil within him ever broke free and tried to conquer the Earth again—
That would be impossible now.
That small comfort was the only thing Kami could hold onto.
Back at the Briefs estate…
Vitelli was shirtless in the backyard, sunlight gleaming across his healthy skin. Sweat ran along lean, sharp muscle lines.
With one hand, he casually held up a massive alloy block—easily over five tons—as if it were made of foam.
He kept doing squats.
Each dip and rise carried a brutal elegance, and the reinforced alloy ground beneath him trembled faintly.
"Hah…"
After ten thousand squats, he set the block down.
THUD.
The impact sent tiny fragments scattering.
Vitelli wiped away barely any sweat and stared at the alloy with a resigned sigh.
Without gravity suppression, this kind of training was worthless now.
For someone approaching one hundred thousand in battle power… this was barely even a warm-up.
His growth was slowing.
Then his gaze shifted to the other side of the yard.
Dr. Brief, surrounded by robots, was working on a massive metal chamber already taking shape.
Pipes, cables, and complex conduits covered it—humming softly.
The gravity room.
Hope the old man moves faster, Vitelli thought.
Dr. Brief was doing his best. Earth's tech had limits. Even with Vitelli pressuring him nonstop, this first-generation chamber would cap at around 300× Earth gravity.
But that was enough for now.
Thirty times Planet Vegeta's gravity—
That would let Vitelli feel pressure again. And progress again.
And this was only a stepping stone. He had no doubt Bulma would eventually build something far more monstrous.
"Oh! My goodness—Vitelli!"
Dr. Brief looked up at the exact moment Vitelli set down the massive block.
His jaw dropped. The wrench in his hand nearly fell.
"That's… that's ridiculous! That was five and a half tons of solid alloy! What kind of alien boyfriend did Bulma bring home?!"
His proud scientific worldview took another brutal punch to the face.
"I'm back!"
A cheerful voice cut through the backyard.
Bulma—who was supposed to be at university—was somehow already home.
She darted straight toward Vitelli like a delighted butterfly.
Vitelli was mid-meal, cheeks stuffed full, staring in shock.
"Yoo… you'rr ba'k so e'ly?"
Bulma smugly lifted her chin, hands on her hips.
"Hmph! When I show up, what's impossible? I already took every exam for this semester ahead of time! Credits complete! The professors were overwhelmed by my genius!"
She looked at his puffed cheeks and greasy lips, half-annoyed, half-amused. Then she naturally pulled out a tissue and gently wiped his mouth clean.
"And don't talk with your mouth full! Seriously—like a kid…"
As she wiped, her eyes lingered on his profile.
Something stirred in her.
She rose on her toes and quickly pecked his cheek.
"Mm?!"
Vitelli froze.
Bulma immediately changed the subject in panic, smiling too brightly.
"Y-you… are you full? You still look hungry… Want me to make more?"
Vitelli looked at her, then slowly shook his head.
Then nodded hard.
His eyes practically screamed food.
"Hmph! Wait there!"
Bulma shot him a playful glare and walked toward the kitchen, humming happily.
Not far away, Dr. Brief lifted a glass of wine and exchanged a look with Mrs. Brief lounging in the garden chair. Both wore the same expression:
relieved… and extremely entertained.
Mrs. Brief even waved at Vitelli from afar, pointing at the table loaded with food, signaling him not to be shy—eat more.
Vitelli could only sigh inwardly.
If this were my old world's Earth, a girl's parents would've broken my legs.
Time flowed quickly in warmth and routine.
Training. Bulma's company. Dinner with the Briefs. Occasional trips through West City—experiencing Earth life in the Dragon Ball world.
Vitelli had never imagined that as a Saiyan—of all things—he could live this peacefully.
Bulma's brilliance, passion, and occasional stubbornness all felt strangely sweet.
The Briefs couple's open-minded acceptance gave him a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time:
Something like a home.
In that comfortable environment, a year passed like sand slipping through fingers.
Dr. Brief's gravity room was completed and put into use.
Even at "only" 300× Earth gravity, its effects were absurd.
Vitelli poured nearly all his time into it—training his body and ki under crushing pressure, pushing himself into extremes.
Bulma kept her promise too. While "finishing school," she began researching upgrades—aiming for 500× and beyond.
After a year of brutal training, Vitelli's growth was explosive.
He didn't have a scouter anymore, but based on his ki control and physical condition…
He estimated conservatively:
His battle power had surpassed one million.
If he went all out—fully releasing everything—
He might reach three million, or even exceed it.
Three million.
That was already enough of a foundation for Super Saiyan—at least at the "爆发 / burst" level.
Now he just needed to reach three million in base, without relying on an emotional eruption.
With his past-life knowledge, he believed he could transform naturally—without needing extreme rage.
He also knew he hadn't been tested in true life-or-death combat. His power still lacked real-world tempering.
But in Dragon Ball's early era…
This was already a ridiculous level.
If Frieza showed up right now, Vitelli felt like he could walk up and slap him a few times just for fun.
Peace was nice.
But Saiyan blood still craved a stage.
And Earth just happened to have a perfect outlet:
The World Martial Arts Tournament.
When Vitelli saw the advertisement on TV and in the newspaper—
"The 21st World Martial Arts Tournament is Coming Soon!"
A mischievous idea rose uncontrollably.
"World Martial Arts Tournament…"
Vitelli rubbed his chin, looking at the poster full of "tough-looking" martial artists striking dramatic poses.
A playful smile spread across his face.
"Training's hit a bottleneck. I could use something new. And…"
His eyes flashed with nostalgia—and a hint of pure trolling.
"It's time to let Earth's 'masters' see what real power looks like."
Bulma didn't stop him.
She practically lit up.
"You're entering the tournament?! That's amazing, Vitelli! You're definitely going to win! I'll go in person and cheer for you—let everyone see how handsome my boyfriend is!"
So with Vitelli's "bully the early-cast" impulse… and Bulma's full enthusiastic support…
The registration form for the 21st World Martial Arts Tournament quietly gained one new name:
Vitelli.
(And don't ask how he registered.
APP. Dragon Ball tech, kid.)
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