Disclaimer: the idea and characters of Dragon Ball are owned by Akira Toriyama. This is a simple non-profit fan parody.

Chapter 2 - Riddles in the sunlight

"Ok, so, try to stretch it again."

After a day of travelling, Bulma and Goku were sitting in the comfort of a warm, fully equipped house, that protected them from the cold and the potential dangers of the night outside. Inside this house, that had been materialised from a capsule as big as a human thumb, Bulma was losing her mind while trying to figure out how could a one-meter long stick possibly become longer than that.

This had been going on for a while.

Goku held the Nyoibo horizontal, between two chairs that Bulma had pushed against it on either side. The chairs were heavily weighed with whatever she could put her hands on - mostly books and tools - so that their mass should be at least similar.

"Stick, get longer." said Goku, with a somewhat less enthusiastic voice than usual.

The stick glowed with a faint red light and started stretching. Finding itself impeded by the chairs, it didn't immediately zoom out, and buckled a bit under the pressure, but then it looked like it picked itself up, stiffened, straightened up, and started pushing more; the chairs were toppled, and the books and tools fell on the ground. Goku comfortably held a now two-meter long stick, perfectly horizontal with respect to the ground.

Bulma's right eyelid twitched violently.

"This thing does not exert a constant force, nor has constant elastic properties!" she screamed, in frustration "How the heck does it even know how long should it get?"

"I just sort of picture it in my mind." explained Goku, helpfully.

"ARRGH!"

She tossed the papers she was taking notes on in frustration, sat on a desk, and grabbed her head between her hands.

"Why are you so angry? Your capsules do much more impressive things."

"My capsules make sense. They have internal mechanisms and are incredibly complex. This is just a freaking wooden stick."

"It just means there is something you ignore about it. The wise knows there is always more to know."

"Yes, but it drives me mad!"

Bulma sat for a while, beaten, her head abandoned on the desk. She did not know what was more exasperating - the stick, or Goku's absolute jadedness about that inexplicable supernatural prodigy he kept using simply to bludgeon things that needed bludgeoning. She started realising how different their respective worlds must have been, growing up. She'd lived in a city her entire life. And life seemed more... ordered, there. She had just started peeking in the vast wilderness that were the less urbanised parts of the planet, and had already noticed that there was a bit more of a chaos, less regularity in the laws of social life. Safety was not to be taken for granted; she had ran from bandits and had defended against animal attacks. Now, as it turns out, she discovered the laws of nature themselves seemed a bit more elastic.

The sad thing was, she couldn't even be sure this wasn't something that her illustrious predecessors, the people who had written the books she had studied on, had simply ignored and scoffed at. After all, she had heard stories from the boons too - but no one believed stories from the boons. If a few ancient relics of great power, and people able to wield them, existed scattered around the countryside, who would have found out? As long as the people holding them didn't think there was anything special about them. Goku certainly didn't look like he did.

"Listen, Goku," she said "the fact is, people like me, scientists - my father, too - we work on this idea that the world follows rules. That there is a logic to all things. That if you do a certain thing in a certain way, and then do it again, in the same exact way, the same effects will verify. Do you follow me?"

Goku nodded.

"Well, we have found out some of these rules. I will give you books to read about them if you're interested, but it might take... some time to teach you the basics you need to even understand them. Point is, once we find them out, we can use them to make stuff happen. But since the rules are not simple, usually it takes a complex machine to exploit them. Something that has a lot of parts that do different things. Just like you can understand why a deer moves because it has muscles, and bones, and organs, but it would be weird to see a wooden statue of a deer just come to life and walk around, right?"

"I can understand that." agreed Goku "But then, why are you sure that such rules exist in the first place? Or that they are always respected? Even in the face of something that does not respect them?"

"Because! Because..." Bulma threw her hands in the air "Heck if I know. Because it sounds like it makes more sense, I guess. In a way no one really knows for sure. Maybe your stick really is the only thing that has no rules in this universe and that's how things are. Guess I will find out when I find out if a magical wish dragon can make me meet the love of my life."

"Love? Love is only an abstract concept used to describe a state of mind. How could you meet it?"

"Forget about that!" Bulma cut short. Now that she had said it out loud, it sounded embarrassing and stupid. And she certainly didn't want to start talking about grown up stuff with this kid who was, like, at least three years younger than her. "You should go to bed. It's late, kids need their sleep."

"What a weirdly specific observation. So do adults." objected Goku, but he didn't disagree much, as this was his chance to stop being part of Bulma's experimental setup. He shortened the stick back and put it in its scabbard, then went to the room they had agreed before was his to sleep in, and closed the door behind him. Even having never lived in such a modern house, he was quick to learn - all that Bulma had to do was show him once how to do things, and he just picked them up immediately.

Bulma was left alone in the room, thinking about dragons, and love, and magic, and the unbelievable conspiracy the universe was setting up just with the explicit purpose of driving her nuts.

The next morning, Bulma and Goku were standing outside of the house, in full gear for the next day's trip. Bulma wore a different getup from the day before - a casual but comfortable set of clothes, with jeans, sneakers and a wind jacket over a light T-shirt. Goku wore the same exact gi as the day before. And the day before, and the one before, suspected Bulma.

"How often do you wash that thing you're wearing?" she asked, eyeing him badly.

"Wash?" was the puzzled answer.

Bulma sighed. She'd teach him how to do laundry when they stopped for the next night; for now, all she could do was make sure he was always upwind with respect to her. She opened a small panel on the side of the house and pressed a few buttons. She dismissed hastily the usual warning message about making sure that no living things or other capsules were left inside the house before initiating re-capsulation, then, when the instructions recommended she take at least ten steps back for her own safety, she barely took one. The house burst into a puff of smoke, and before the smoke was even dissipated she plunged her hand inside it to grab a flying capsule, without looking. She put it back at its place in her case and retrieved another, pausing a little to choose which one.

"Today's a nice day!" she proclaimed finally as she picked "Even if it means going a bit slower, I feel like motorcycling a bit longer."

As she turned, and she was about to click and toss the capsule, she found Goku staring at something in the middle of the road, followed his eyes, and started staring herself.

In front of them was a massive Turtle.

"Hello." said the Turtle.

"Hello." answered Goku, politely.

"Goku," asked Bulma "why are you talking with a turtle?"

"Because she's the one who started. It would have been rude not to answer." explained the boy.

"And I appreciate that." interjected the turtle.

Bulma took a deep breath and tried to keep calm and cool-minded. Humanoid animal races were a thing, after all. This was hardly much different, except for, well, the humanoid part, since it was just a simple, normal looking, turtle.

Who could speak.

She decided to just roll with it.

"Very well, Miss Turtle..."

"Mister." corrected the Turtle.

"Mister Turtle. I hope that you will have a good day. Sadly, we can not spend much more time in your delightful company. We have to leave, as we have a long way to go before this evening."

"I thought you just picked a means of transportation that is not the fastest at your disposal?" pointed out Goku.

"How helpful you can be, Goku." hissed Bulma "Now let's go."

She had a bad feeling about this.

"I need your help!" pleaded the Turtle.

And here we go, thought Bulma. It's not that she was opposed in principle to the idea of helping others, really. It just tended to waste so much of her time and energy when she did. Her mother had always said that as a member of the Briefs family, you had to learn when not to think too much about the fate of those less fortunate than you - as that would basically encompass everybody else, anyway.

"I need your help." repeated the Turtle "As you may see, I am a turtle, not a tortoise. I live in the ocean. I am not supposed to dwell on land but I have, sort of..."

"Got lost? By at least 200 kilometers?"

The Turtle seemed to think about it for a moment: "Well, yes, I suppose."

"And I thought you were slow creatures."

"Oh, yes, we are. Which is why going back to the sea is so troublesome for me. I have been wandering for weeks now. You seem to have some sort of transportation, so, I was hoping..."

"Forget it." cut short Bulma, not wanting to listen a second more "Goku, come with me. Adventure awaits!"

Goku stood next to the Turtle, and did not budge.

"Bulma, the Turtle needs help, and it is within our power to give it to him." he calmly explained "I really think you should consider this."

"I did consider it. For all of the twentieth part of a second. The answer my brilliant brain came up with is: not my problem."

The kid gave her a stern look.

"You can not avoid the weight of ethical choices simply by ignoring them. It became your problem from the moment you heard about his plight."

"Which is why I did not want to hear about it in the first place!"

"Which means you had already guessed it. Which means you were already involved."

"The kid is sharp." said the Turtle, admiringly.

"Oh, like a razor blade." commented curtly Bulma.

"In case this helps you make your decision, know that if I will not go back to the ocean, I will die!" added the Turtle. "At some point in the future."

Bulma pressed her hands on her temples. Goku was staring at her judgementally. The Turtle was staring at her pleadingly. There was a marked lack of anyone else around staring at her in ways that might make her not feel like a total dick.

"Oh, whatever, fine!" screamed Bulma, in exasperation. "I guess we can take a little detour. At least I get to take a dip in the ocean, since the weather is so good. It's not like we're racing against someone else looking for the Dragon Balls too, after all."

The sneeze echoed across the tall, empty hall of the castle.

"Are you feeling unwell, your majesty?" asked worriedly a woman with long black hair and wearing military attire to the small blue man sitting on the throne.

"It's nothing really, Mai. I don't have a cold or anything. Probably just the dust of this place. Clean it up some more!"

"As you order, Lord Pilaf."

"Give me that turtle."

The bandit was a huge humanoid bear. He towered all of a couple of meters above both Goku and Bulma, who had first realised his presence behind them when his huge shadow fell on them. On second thought, realised Bulma, a big tree trunk crashed right in the middle of the road as if to purposefully stop any vehicles passing by should have rung all sort of alarms in her head. She realised she really ought to do some work on her street smarts.

If she survived this, obviously.

"Goku, give him the Turtle." she suggested under her breath.

"Hey!" protested the subject of the deal. They had been travelling in a small pickup Bulma pulled out for the occasion from her capsule case, with the cargo bed specially fitted with a plastic tub and few water buckets they had added some salt to in order to keep the Turtle fresh.

"Sorry." she apologised "But really, it's either you or us."

Goku stood silent, looking intently at the bandit, with a bit of a puzzled expression.

Bulma was learning to start fearing that expression. And this was really not the best moment.

"Didn't you hear me? I said give me the turtle! I want to eat it!" roared the bandit, waving his huge curved sword threateningly "Quick, or I will kill you!"

"I heard you." said Goku, plainly "But I don't understand. Why are you asking?"

Bulma, the turtle and the bandit all blinked in confusion.

"I'm giving you a chance, little runt! Do you want to die?"

"Surely not. But why do you care what I want? It would be far easier for you to just kill us all, get the turtle, and possibly steal our goods too. I understand Bulma is very rich. I'm sure she has something of value."

So I die, thought Bulma. Still young and beautiful, on a dusty road in the middle of nowhere, because of a stupid turtle with a terrible sense of direction and a monkey boy far too clever for his own good.

The bandit growled.

"Well, maybe I didn't want to kill you if I didn't need to. You're making me change my mind though!"

"I apologize if I'm being annoying." said Goku, his tone absolutely sincere "Perhaps I have rushed to conclusions, seeing how you seem to care little for moral customs and want to eat our friend Turtle who is, in fact, as much of a sentient being as us and can talk."

"Wait, it can talk?" grunted the bandit.

"As a matter of fact, I can." confirmed the Turtle.

"Well, that is weird. I am not used to talking food. It doesn't feel right."

"I am glad we could come to an understanding." concluded Goku "Surely, then, you would agree to let us go without the need for any violence?"

"I suppose so." muttered the bear, lowering his sword "I was only so damn hungry. Is it too much to ask to find some dinner that can't speak?"

Bulma was speechless. She did not know whether to be offended that the bandit ignored all of her extremely valuable possessions in favour of that old wrinkly turtle, or simply grateful to the world for this amazing new chance at life. What she had just witnessed from Goku was simply the most incredible feat of diplomacy she had ever heard of.

"That's a relief," said the kid "I would not have wanted to hurt you."

"What did you just say?"

Never mind.

The bandit's eyes now were ablaze with anger. His sword was pointed straight at Goku's face. His free hand was trembling in rage and looked like it was ready to grab and squeeze his skull into a pulp - and it was big enough to actually do it.

"I said I would not have wanted to hurt you." repeated Goku "My grandpa told me that martial arts should not be used to hurt or kill if not in time of great need."

"Well, that's rich coming out of a tiny runt like you. Don't worry, this is a time of need." sneered the bandit "Because as soon as I'm finished with you, you're going to need..."

They would never learn what exactly was supposed to be the conclusion of that threat. Because midway through, he had started swinging the sword towards Goku, and that had been the boy's signal to attack. Bulma could barely catch what happened, so fast his movement was. The kid fluidly stepped to the right, pivoting on his foot. The sword hissed through the air so close to him, it trimmed a couple of hair from his head; but Goku extended his hands and grabbed the bear's arm, pushed, and jumped on his palms, landing feet first in the bandit's face. The gigantic beast was sent flying, and as Goku was spinning and landing, his Nyoibo slid out of its scabbard, and flew out, all in a single calculated motion that found his hand ready to grab it, and "Extend!" he screamed, and the pole was now swinging at triple length, aimed straight for the bandit's skull, in a motion so fast and precise that Bulma realised it could only conclude by splitting it in half...

And then it stopped.

The bandit was breathing heavily, in pain, and grasped his chest. His eyes, wide open, were fixated on the tip of the stick that had stopped just five centimetres away from his forehead, and his death. Goku stared rather blankly, then withdrew his weapon, which smoothly shortened itself as he slid it back into the scabbard.

The bear got up, turned, and ran away, without looking back.

"That was amazing." commented Bulma, breathless.

"I would have rather not done that." said Goku "I don't like it. When I fight, I need to let my instinct take control. And as my grandpa always said, I should always let reason be in control of my instinct."

"Oh, come on, he totally had it coming anyway!" laughed the girl, in relief "What would your instinct have you do anyway?"

She looked at Goku and suddenly noticed that he was still somewhat different. He was not tired - he did not break a sweat, in fact - but he was somewhat agitated. His cheeks were red. His lips, slightly retracted over his teeth. His tail - what was up with that again? - swinging nervously, left and right.

"Kill him, of course." he said.

Then he climbed back onto the pickup and slumped into the passenger's chair, as a stunned Bulma went back to sit at the wheel. He did not speak any more as they travelled, and eventually fell asleep, and finally his lineaments relaxed, in the sun of that bright September morning.

"Why are we waiting here again!" cried Bulma loudly, stretching her hands to the sky, in the sun of what was now a still very bright, and rather hot, September afternoon. They were sitting in the middle of the beach, Goku idly observing a pair of crabs as they moved around, Bulma launching invectives against fate for her current predicament. The beach was a very beautiful one indeed, but not exactly a touristic spot. There was plenty of ocean, shells and palms, but no food or drink stalls. Lunchtime had come, and passed, and Bulma had to settle for one of her portable travel rations and some water from a canteen rather than the ice cream she would have really craved in such weather. Shadow was also very scarce, but damn if she could remember in which of ten luggage capsules she was bringing along she had stored her umbrella. She had ditched her jacket long ago, and now was simply wearing her T-shirt and jeans, but still felt like she was boiling alive. She would have gone for a swim as she had imagined at first, but she couldn't find her bikini either - and even if she did, changing in front of Goku was not an option.

"Turtle said he'd come back with his master and bring us a gift." said Goku, then he went back to his crustacean studies, prodding a bit the crabs with a stick and seeing how they reacted.

"Well that was hours ago!" protested Bulma "I say we should just go."

"That would be a mistake."

"Oh, don't act like you know it all, country boy!" burst out the girl "It's always that attitude with you! You didn't even know what a car was, until yesterday!"

"That is true." admitted Goku "But it's not really relevant. It would be a mistake because they're almost here."

He pointed a finger to the ocean, and sure enough, there they could see something swimming in the water, leaving a white trail behind it, and someone standing on its back, above the surface of the ocean.

"Is he riding the turtle?" wondered Bulma, squinting to see better in the bright sun. The conspiracy to make her doubt her senses and reason happily continued.

Sure enough, he was; and 'he', in this case, was the peculiar figure of a bald old man, wearing an Hawaaian shirt, shorts, flip-flops, and sunglasses. He held a gnarly wooden club in his hand. When the turtle - or rather, Turtle, that old friend of approximately five hours of adventures - was close enough to the beach, the old man jumped, spin flipped mid air, landed gracefully on the sand, and:

"Howdy!" he greeted the two.

Bulma and Goku greeted back, and then stood waiting perplexed as the old man carefully shook the sand that had gotten stuck inside his wet flip flops.

"I hear you've helped my dear subordinate." he finally started "Well done! I am Muten Roshi, the Turtle Master, and I am grateful for your help. I would like to give you a gift as thanks."

"Actually, it was mostly the boy." intervened the Turtle, who had just emerged from the water herself "The girl took a lot of convincing, and then wanted to give me to that bear bandit."

"Which I should have done." hissed back Bulma, thus getting to learn what a turtle sticking its tongue to you looks like.

"Well, I see, I see. Boy, I think I owe you a gift then, at least. Is there anything you would like?"

"I do not know." admitted candidly Goku "I am on this trip to know myself well enough that I can know what it is that I want without knowing, or whether I truly have nothing that I want."

The old man stopped for a second to parse all of that.

"Oh my! What a clever fellow. And wise, for your age. I just have the thing. You might be able to ride it after all. Kintoun!"

A few instants after Muten called, a whooshing sound came from the sky, and a yellow streak crossed it from east to west. Next thing anyone knew, a little yellow cloud stopped with a loud brake right in front of Muten and remained hovering in mid-air.

"...I'm not even going to ask how that works." commented Bulma wryly.

"This is Kintoun!" announced Muten "It's a magical cloud that can fly anywhere in the world, at an amazing speed. But remember - you can only ride it if you are pure of heart!"

Goku's eyes widened in disbelief.

"If what you say is the truth, I do not think I would be worth of such a gift." he stuttered, almost a bit embarrassed "Are you saying this can provide me with an absolute, objective ethical standard?"

Muten raised an eyebrow: "It can... take you places."

"Well, that's only if I pass its judgement. But regardless of that, the implications are amazing! There has never been a way of agreeing on a single universal moral code. Humanity has struggled with that question for centuries, and rivers of blood have been spilled over it. But here is an unfeeling magical item that is able to objectively tell between good and bad people. It means, by observing who can ride it and who can't, we can deduce what good is!"

The kid was now obviously overexcited. Bulma eyed the whole scene with distinct scepticism, and the old man was simply baffled.

"...I guess?" he said in the end, shrugging.

Goku kept circling the cloud, thinking aloud more than talking, and occasionally gesticulating; then, after shutting up and stopping for a moment, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and jumped on top of it.

And fell right through, ending up on the ground, his head still wrapped in the intangible yellow vapour.

"I see, that's how things are." he said, getting up and patting the dust off his clothes, without sounding much disappointed.

Muten seemed pretty dismayed: "Oh, I'm sorry boy, I really thought... well, I imagine we all have our hidden depths."

"Say," inquired Bulma, finally butting in "are you able to ride it?"

"Oh, no, my goodness, not really. I am just an old man with a rather sinful mind to boot."

"Huh-uh. And have you ever seen anyone ride it?"

"No, never."

"Ok. And do you know anyone who claimed they could ride it?"

"I don't think so." he said after a moment's thought "Though given the nature of the condition for that, I would imagine they wouldn't be the bragging type."

"Alright. So how do you know that anyone can ride it at all?"

"Well, I've been told so by Korin, the cat god who gave it to me."

"You've been told. By a cat god." repeated Bulma, slowly "Did you ever stop to think maybe no one could ride it because it's impossible?"

"Why would that be?"

"Because it's a cloud! It's not solid!" the girl shrieked, throwing her hands in the air.

"It's fine, Bulma." stepped in Goku "We don't know for sure he's not right. Truly good people would be very hard to find, after all. I would like to have a few more people try it as a test. In fact, Bulma, would you like to..."

"Don't even think about it." said Bulma, indignant, her arms crossed "I will not subject myself to such humiliation, nor to the judgement of a glorified puff of smoke."

"As you wish. I can't force you. If you ever change your mind, I'd be glad to allow you to try. Still, I think it's an interesting gift, and I am sure it will prove useful, even if I can not ride it. Thank you very much, Master Muten."

And he bowed politely to the old man, who blushed a bit and muttered something about how it was nothing, really.

Bulma was only glad that this surreal detour was finally over, and more than willing to just drop both Turtle and Master to their collective nonsense to focus on her extremely important quest of love and science, when she noticed a tiny detail.

That old fart wore a necklace.

And from that necklace, like a big, orange, extremely garish pearl, was dangling the Three-Star Dragon Ball.

In fact, the detail wasn't tiny at all, and she wondered how the heck didn't she notice earlier, considering her whole life at the moment revolved around those damn things.

"Old man!" she called to him, suddenly more jovial than before "Despite your Turtle friend's... lack of appreciation, I helped save him too! Don't you think I could deserve at least a tiny token of gratitude?"

"Hmmm. Maybe you're right. Turtle, what do you say, perhaps you've been a bit too harsh?"

"If it was for her, I would have died twice, today. She deserves nothing."

Bulma started considering where she could find a good recipe for turtle soup.

"I'm sorry," said Muten "I don't like saying no to a cute girl like you, but I'm afraid that's final."

Friendly tactics failed - time to let the money talk. Bulma dropped all pretences of joviality. She dug into her bag and whipped out a cheque book and a pen.

"Ok, let's talk real, old man. Your necklace. I want it. Give me a price." she said, matter-of-factly, while twirling the pen between her fingers.

"How vulgar!" exclaimed the Master "I do not crave material possessions so much that I could be just bought so easily. I am an hermit after all."

Bulma stared at him for a second.

He stared back.

The pen stopped twirling.

"But..."

He did not stare at her eyes.

"But maybe we could find an agreement, if you could, huh..."

The fingers started pressuring the pen, tense, bending it in the middle.

"...show me... your... panties?"

And the sound of the pen snapping resounded like pistol fire across the entire beach.

Three hours later, the sun was beginning to set, and the situation was still at a stall. Bulma was not willing to concede anything, but did not want to lose the Dragon Ball either, so would keep alternating short haggling sessions with Muten with long indignant silences during which she merely sat alone in a corner of the beach, arms and legs crossed. Muten, with the patience of a true hermit, simply sat and smoked his pipe, confident that eventually Bulma would come around. The Turtle was busy swimming near the shore, lazily gulping down small fish, and pretending he really had nothing to do with the old man. And Goku was puzzled by the whole affair, and how could it possibly be so complicated.

He walked up to Bulma.

"Bulma, why don't you just show him your panties like he asked? It would not cost you anything." he suggested.

"Absolutely not! It would definitely cost me a lot."

Goku seemed very confused by this.

"Cost you - how? He didn't ask you to give them to him. And you said you are rich anyway."

"Some things are worth more than money! I will not show him my panties, even if I have to take the Dragon Ball from his cold dead body!"

"Now," pointed out the kid "that does not sound very ethical."

"Neither does asking underage girls for sexual favours!" screamed Bulma, loud enough for Muten to hear her "And yet, here we are."

Obviously, there was not much reasoning to do on this side. In his efforts to mediate, Goku decided then to focus on the other party of the deal. He stood in front of Muten.

"Howdy, boy!"

"Howdy." repeated Goku, politely "I am sorry that my friend seems to be so stubborn about her panties, but I fear it would not do to insist. If you would not mind, I am willing to show you my underwear in exchange for the Dragon Ball, as a compromise."

A hysterical fit of laughter came from Bulma's direction.

"Well, that is a generous offer. You really are a good kid." complimented him the old man "But see, that just doesn't work for me. I want to see her panties, not yours."

"This is really confusing." protested the boy "She offered you money. You would not gain anything material from seeing her panties. Why do you insist so much?"

"Well, see kid, some things are worth more than money."

Goku did understand this concept, but he had usually heard it applied to highly immaterial ideals - love, wisdom, honour. Panties were a new entry in that category of things.

It was as if there was some kind of coded conversation going on between Bulma and Muten. He was not one for anger, usually, but he could not deny a slight feeling of annoyance at all of this. He found not understanding something so fundamental to all that was happening around him extremely frustrating.

"Alright! Let's get this over with!"

Bulma burst up standing all of a sudden, then walked straight to Muten. The two stood in front of each other for a while, one standing, one sitting, staring into each other's eyes (or sunglasses).

"Old man," she announced "I challenge you to a game!"

"A game. And why would I accept to play?" asked placidly the hermit, puffing smoke from his mouth.

"Because it's a game that involves me stripping."

Muten pulled a handkerchief out and started drying his sweaty forehead.

"Well, I'm listening. Explain." he finally managed to say.

"Alright. Rules of the game!" Goku came closer and started listening intently, hoping to finally understand what the heck was up with these two.

"Rule number one: the game consists of each of us taking turns and removing one article of clothing, or accessory, from our body. The other person has to remove the corresponding article from theirs. The person who refuses, or is unable, to remove any article of clothing in response loses."

"Rule number two: if I were to win, you would give me the Dragon Ball. You don't get anything for winning though."

"That's unfair." protested the old man.

"It's plenty fair. You can get what you want and more already simply by playing the game well, after all."

This, Muten could not really object to, so he let it pass with a shrug.

"Rule number three: to avoid cheating, any clothing must be removed in plain sight. This includes underwear: one must first strip in order to make it visible, remove it, and then can put the other clothes back on."

"Sounds sensible." approved Muten. The incredible possibilities that these rules offered to him did not escape his notice.

"Rule number four: any removed matching articles of clothing will be exchanged with the opponent and will be theirs to keep, even after the end of the game."

"Wait a second." intervened the old man, suspicious "What is the purpose of this rule?"

Bulma smiled: "What, you don't want souvenirs?"

He did, obviously.

"Finally, rule number five: I get the first move. You have ways to get what you want in a single move, so I think that's just fair."

"Ok, I need to deliberate. Give me five minutes."

Muten rushed to the shore, any remain of his composure all but lost. His cheeks were already flushed with blood. He called the Turtle next to him, and as the reptile came laying on the sand at his feet, he explained the rules and Bulma's suspicious proposal.

"She's playing you." proclaimed the Turtle.

"I know she must be. But I can't figure out how."

"Well, she is. So refuse. You don't know how, but she does. She would not do this if she were not sure to win."

"You're right, you're right. But it does not make sense. Rule four, for example, looks like it was meant just to draw me in. So there must be a trick somewhere else, but where? Maybe she just thinks that I would be embarrassed exposing myself in front of her."

"How little she understands." sighed the Turtle deeply.

"You can say that. I know she can win in one move - if she removes something that I can't. But what is she wearing that I am not?"

"Man, really?" the Turtle seemed disappointed "A bra, obviously."

"A bra! You're right. She can win instantly by removing that. But rule three means that she should do that in plain view, without her shirt on. So..."

"You would get a full frontal view."

"I would. Why would she go for this? Is it just a matter of pride - to show herself on her own terms? Or is she less shy about her boobs than about her panties?"

Muten was supposed to be thinking, but really, his heavy breath by now indicated that rational faculties were quickly abandoning him. Turtle didn't think any of these explanations squared much with the girl who had spent three hours on a hot beach just working out a plan to trick this dirty old man, but then again, it was not like he cared that much, and wanted to go back to fishing, so he just let it go. Mammals and their morbid obsession with milk glands seemed extremely crude to him.

"Ok! I accept!" finally said Muten, walking back to Bulma.

"Took you long enough. And it was such a good deal too."

The girl smiled again, and took place standing right in front of Muten. She made sure he could see her well, and stretched her arms upwards. The old man was completely enthralled.

"My turn first then."

Her hands moved behind her back, towards her neck. As if to prepare to remove her T-shirt.

Muten began hyperventilating.

The hands touched the back of her shirt's neck, moved it a bit. Revealed something under. A golden glint. Her fingers searched for and grabbed something tiny, and started unhooking it.

And as she succeeded, she revealed it - a thin, long golden chain that was tied around her neck and hidden under her shirt until now, almost invisible.

Rule number four: any removed matching articles of clothing will be exchanged with the opponent and will be theirs to keep, even after the end of the game.

"Necklace." she announced, handing it to him with a wide grin.

And Muten could only start slowly untying the rope that kept the Dragon Ball hanging from his neck.