"Okay, not right now."
Bulma raised a finger, using her best corporate negotiation tone.
"Let's talk first. Then you say no with more information on the table."
"Doesn't change much."
"Yes, it does. Trust me."
"Grandpa said not to trust strangers."
"Did your grandpa also say to eat dirt?"
"Once."
Goku scratched the back of his neck.
"But just to see how it tasted. It's bad."
"Right. Let's speak the universal language."
She reached into her pocket, pulled out a Hoi-Poi capsule, pressed the button, and tossed it onto the ground between her and Goku.
A small explosion popped with a hiss of smoke. When it cleared, a metal briefcase sat on the floor.
Bulma snapped it open, revealing neatly stacked bundles of thousand-zeni notes.
"Money. Let's see… about ten million in this briefcase?"
She smirked.
"Yeah, I know. That's a really big number for someone your size."
"It's paper."
"Paper that turns into things."
"I already have things."
"You live in a hut in the middle of nowhere, kid."
"I like it."
That brat is getting on my nerves...
Bulma closed the briefcase. The sound echoed in the clearing.
Guess the financial negotiation failed. Time for plan B.
She softened her tone, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Your grandpa… Son Gohan. I knew him."
Goku's ears perked up.
"Did you really?"
"I did. He talked about you. A lot."
"Did he say I was strong?"
"All the time. Said you were the strongest boy on the... mountain?"
"Did he say I ate too much?"
"…That too."
Goku smiled. A wide smile, full of white teeth. His guard lowered.
"So why do you want the ball?"
"Because he asked me to look after it. It's an inheritance. He wanted it to stay with me for a while."
Goku frowned. His thick eyebrows came together.
"When?"
"Before he left. In a letter."
"Grandpa died, long ago."
"Right… Before that. Shortly before."
"He never talked about you."
"He didn't talk about everyone. He was... a private man."
Silence.
The wind rustled the surrounding trees.
Goku tilted his head, sniffing the air again.
The smell of lying was stronger than the perfume.
"You're lying."
"No, I—"
"Yes, you are."
"And how would you know, Sherlock Jungle?"
"Because you're a girl."
Bulma stood still.
The absurdity of the sentence hit her like a brick.
"Excuse me?"
"Grandpa said city girls lie. They're pretty to deceive, but they lie."
"He said all of them?"
"He did."
"No exception? Not even his mother?"
"His mother wasn't from the city."
Bulma let out a short, incredulous laugh.
It wasn't funny.
"Your grandfather was a paranoid and sexist hermit."
"What's paranoid? And sexist?"
"That he was... ugh! Forget it!"
She threw her hands up.
"It means he was wrong."
Goku shook his head without hesitation.
"Grandpa was never wrong."
Whatever patience Bulma had left evaporated.
Diplomacy was dead.
"Enough."
Her hand was a blur. An pistol came out of the holster, the barrel pointed at the boy's chest.
"I tried being nice. You're not cooperating."
Goku looked at the gun. Curiosity, not fear.
"What is that?"
"A persuasion tool. It makes people stop talking nonsense and hand over what I want."
Herfinger tightened slightly on the trigger.
"The sphere. Now."
...
....
....
.....
Goku didn't moved a flinch, he was just standing there, looking at Bulma.
Why is he looking at me with that stupid face?
"Still no."
"You think this is a game?!"
She flicked her wrist and fired at a watermelon-sized rock two meters away.
ZAAAP.
A blue beam lanced through the stone, vaporizing it instantly.
Heat washed through the air as dust and debris exploded outward.
Where solid granite had been, there was now nothing but smoking gravel.
Goku looked at the remains.
"You killed the rock."
"Yes, and you're next if you don't hand over the Dragon Ball."
"Dragon Ball? Is that what you call my grandpa's ball?"
Bulma's eye twitched.
"That's not your grandpa's ball, you dumb kid! It's a source of anomalous energy capable of bending reality itself! It's far better off with someone like me, who can actually study it."
She took a sharp breath.
"Come on, I'll give you something else."
"My Grandpa told me to protect it. I won't give it to you. No matter what."
"Protect it from who?"
"I don't know." He tilted his head.
"From you, maybe? You look mean."
Her smile turned cold.
"If I were mean, I would've already shot you in the back of the neck and taken the sphere off your corpse, brat."
Bulma steadied her aim at the center of his chest.
The weapon's targeting system flared, a red reticle glowing across her retina.
"I'm going to count to three," she said calmly.
"You hand over the sphere, I leave, and no one gets hurt."
Goku shifted his weight to his toes.
"Hmm..."
"One."
The air moved.
"Two—"
Goku wasn't there anymore.