blogombal Chapter 360 Vegeta's Training
Chapter 360 Vegeta's Training
Late at night, the Capsule Corporation mansion fell silent.
From Bulma's bedroom came heavy snoring. She lay sprawled out, completely lacking any ladylike demeanor.
Meanwhile, in the laboratory, Dr. Cliff was frowning as he looked at the machines that Vegeta had ravaged during the day in the 300x gravity training room.
He rubbed his forehead and sighed helplessly, "Sigh, how am I supposed to fix this..."
The moonlight, like water, spilled into the courtyard. A tall figure appeared silently, wearing the signature orange training uniform—it was Yamcha.
His eyes were resolute, his face was serious, and his steps were steady yet somewhat solemn.
Yamcha paused in front of the gravity chamber door, hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath and slowly pushed open the heavy door.
Stepping into the gravity chamber, Yamcha stood before the control panel, his gaze resolute.
He stretched out his finger and pressed the adjustment button without hesitation.
The beeping sound was exceptionally clear in the quiet night.
The gravity value kept climbing until it reached 300 times, at which point he stopped and pressed the start button heavily.
In an instant, the air in the gravity chamber began to distort, and an invisible, enormous force rushed towards us.
Yamcha felt as if a mountain was pressing down on his body. His once upright body began to bend, and his legs trembled uncontrollably.
As gravity intensified, he bent even lower until he finally collapsed to his knees with a thud, then lay prone on the cold ground.
The veins on his forehead and shoulders bulged out, like writhing earthworms.
Despite his body being almost deformed by the pressure, Yamcha gritted his teeth and tried to support his heavy body.
With 300 times the force of gravity, even opening his eyelids became a luxury, let alone calling for help.
He stretched out his hand with difficulty, his fingers moving forward little by little, each inch of distance feeling like crossing thousands of mountains and rivers.
Finally, Yamcha's fingertips were about to touch the switch, but at this critical moment, his arm, completely exhausted, fell limply to the ground.
He was panting heavily, his clothes soaked with sweat.
After an unknown amount of time, in a near-desperate struggle, he mustered his last strength, and with trembling fingers, finally pressed the power off button.
With a "hum", the surrounding gravity returned to normal.
Yamcha let out a long sigh, her tense body instantly relaxing, collapsing completely to the ground, her eyes closed, succumbing to extreme exhaustion...
……
The morning sunlight slanted into the living room, and Bulma lay lazily on the sofa, flipping through a magazine in her hand with a bored expression.
Suddenly, she stopped, her voice tinged with worry and sigh: "While I'm idly flipping through this magazine, that most terrifying monster is being created silently somewhere on Earth. Sigh..."
Just then, Bulma's mother came in carrying a plate of delicate pastries. Her apron was still a little floured, and her face beamed with excitement. "Bulma, look! Mommy found a new cake shop! Aren't they beautiful? I want to try one!"
As she spoke, she picked up a small cake and took a small bite.
Bulma put down her magazine, rested her chin on her hand, and sighed, "Ah, I really envy Mom so much for being able to do whatever she wants without a care in the world."
Bulma's mother chuckled as she ate her cake, "That's because Vegeta and Yamcha are training so hard and don't have time to spend with Bulma, that's why she's so bored. Oh, really?"
Bulma blushed slightly and stomped her foot playfully, "How could that be? Mom, really!"
Before he could finish speaking, Dr. Cliff sauntered into the living room, rubbing his sore shoulders. His white hair was disheveled, like a frizzy cloud, and his lab coat pockets were stained with machine oil.
"That Vegeta kid is a complete disaster!"
The doctor let out an exaggerated long sigh, then clutched his back and couldn't straighten up.
"First, he forced me to increase the gravity chamber to 300 times, saying that normal intensity was like a tickle. But after I finished adjusting it, he turned around and wanted some kind of auxiliary training device..."
He suddenly lowered his voice and gestured towards the gravity chamber, "When we went to check it this morning, good heavens! The new machine's casing had a huge hole blasted in it, and all the wiring was tangled up like a ball of yarn!"
Bulma crossed her arms, leaning lazily against the back of the sofa, and curled her red lips: "That Vegeta guy, the violent genes of a warrior nation are etched into his bones, he's hopeless."
Bulma's mother, holding a bone china teacup, smiled, fine lines appearing at the corners of her eyes: "But Vegeta is super cool!"
She unconsciously swung her feet as she spoke, causing the pearl decorations on her pink slippers to tremble slightly.
"Hey! Hey!" Dr. Cliff hurriedly pushed up his glasses, which had slipped down to the tip of his nose.
"Didn't you used to praise Sun Wukong for being simple and reliable every day?"
Bulma's mother took a sip of tea, the rising steam condensing into a white mist on her glasses: "Little Goku is great too, of course!"
She suddenly straightened her back and lightly tapped her temple with her fingertips.
"But Vegeta's melancholic aura, and his unwavering personality... especially his smooth, full forehead, tsk tsk, it's practically the ultimate symbol of masculine charm!"
Bulma's mother cupped her cheeks in her hands, her eyes sparkling, and a girlish blush rose on her face as she exclaimed, "He's so cute. By the way, I should go on a date with him next time."
"What?!" Bulma instantly sat up from the sofa, her bright green eyes wide, her voice rising eight octaves.
"Mom, what nonsense are you talking about!"
Just then.
"Boom!"
The strawberry cream in the porcelain dish was still trembling, and the teacups in the hands of the three people made a screeching sound at the same time.
A deafening roar, like a thunderclap, shook the chandelier in the entire living room violently, and Bulma was splashed with the red tea she had just brought to her lips.
The viscous liquid dripped down her silk nightgown, but she didn't bother to wipe it off and ran barefoot toward the explosion.
Gravel flew everywhere underfoot, and the air was thick with the acrid smell of gunpowder.
As she turned the corner of the corridor, she bumped into a familiar embrace.
The visitor was none other than Yamcha.
The two exchanged a glance and, in perfect unison, rushed toward the twisted ruins.
The gravity chamber, which was originally like a steel fortress, now looks like a soda can being torn apart by a giant claw.
Half of the hull was stuck diagonally into the lawn, its metal shell twisted into an eerie arc, and the remaining 300 times gravitational field caused ripples in the air.
Yamcha stared at the charred ground, his Adam's apple bobbing. "It's Vegeta... his aura still lingers here."
Bulma knelt on the scorching hot alloy wreckage, her nails digging deep into her palms: "Vegeta! Don't you dare hide down there pretending to be dead!"
Before the words were finished, a metallic twisting sound suddenly came from the pile of rubble, and a bloodstained hand burst out of the ground.
Bulma screamed and fell to the ground, watching as the hand braced itself against the ground, lifting the blood-soaked Vegeta from the rubble.
"You madman!" Bulma scrambled over, tears mingling with dust, leaving streaks on her face.
"Do you know how dangerous that was?!"
She clutched Vegeta's tattered battle suit, but froze the moment she touched his burning body temperature.
Vegeta's blood-stained lips curled into a familiar smile, and his laughter reverberated through his chest.
But the laughter stopped abruptly, his pupils suddenly dilated, and he fell straight backward.
Bulma gasped and hugged the heavy body, her fingertips touching the large, charred burns on the back of his neck.
“Vegeta! Open your eyes!” Bulma screamed.
Vegeta's bright eyes focused in the last moment before he lost consciousness, his voice weak and metallic: "...Gravity......isn't enough..."