Ch. 15- Underground Training
TC9078
The Super Saiyan
- Location
- PA-01
We've been focusing a lot on Chi-Chi and Kakarot lately- and while the response to those two is overwhelmingly positive... here's a break from them to see what the others are doing! If the response to this is good, I might make a sidestory based around the new character here.
As if on cue, a large muscled man with a sharp tan and a buzz cut stood up and walked over to Yamcha, smoking his cigar all the while. "Yeah, okay," he said, reaching into his pocket and handing Yamcha a card, "be there at 19:00, we have a few fights there tonight. And be discreet, we don't want any issues with the police." The man then turned and walked out of the pub, leaving Yamcha behind with most of the patrons staring at their betting cards.
Shrugging, Yamcha walked over to where Bulma and Puar were waiting for him. Puar returned to Yamcha's shoulder, while Bulma gave him a kiss in congratulations.
"Congratulations on another fight won, Yamcha! Now then, where to?" Bulma said.
"We wait here until 7, then we head to the location here, I got offered a fight," Yamcha explained, handing her the card. Bulma blinked and shook her head.
"No clue where that is, I suppose we could-" she began, but was interrupted when someone ran up to Yamcha.
"You were so cool!" a voice shouted. Yamcha turned around to see a short boy in a school uniform with short, curly black hair and deep blue eyes looking at him in awe. Yamcha scratched the back of his head nervously.
"Thanks, kid. I'm glad you think so!" Yamcha said. The boy nodded his head rapidly.
"It's not just that, it's the technique that you used. I could see at least five different styles, yet you consistently managed to make it flow perfectly!" the boy said. "Hey, I know, could I try fighting you?"
Yamcha did a double take, before sighing. "Kid, unless you have a brown monkey tail, you don't wanna try fighting me," Yamcha said.
The boy shrugged, "I've trained with someone with a brown monkey tail, it should count."
Yamcha blinked rapidly, then slumped his shoulders, "Fine, but if you get hurt, I don't want the bill."
"That's fine! I just wanna have fun here!" the boy cheered, running into the fighting ring. Bulma lightly pushed Yamcha in after him, Puar jumped back over to Bulma's shoulder, and the referee sweatdropped, before closing the ring's doors.
The boy stretched his legs and took off his jacket and tie, laying them on the edge of the arena, leaving only his white dress shirt, black dress pants, and shined shoes. "I wish I had time to change into my normal fighting clothes, but it won't affect all that much," the boy said, rolling up his sleeves carefully.
Yamcha cracked his knuckles, "Just because you're familiar with Kakarot doesn't mean you can fight me at full strength."
"Kaka-what?" the boy asked. Before Yamcha could respond, the referee called the match to start.
The boy charged and smashed his fist into Yamcha's arm. Wincing at the shocking amount of pain, Yamcha struck the boy with other palm. The boy stumbled back but managed to keep his feet. Looking dead on at Yamcha, the boy ran up to him and threw a barrage of punches. Surprised, Yamcha turn the tables, but the boy in front of him matched him almost blow for blow.
Hoping to end it quickly, Yamcha punched forward with all his might, only to be met head on by the boy's fist. However, even with the boy's skill, Yamcha's strength proved the better, and the boys arm snapped back with a crack and Yamcha ended the fight by sweeping the boy's feet out from under him, sending him to the dirt on his rump.
"MARCUS!" a loud male voice called. The boy's eyes widened as he scrambled to his feet. Yamcha looked out of the ring to see a man in a three piece suit, with a suitcase in one hand and a bowler hat under one arm. As the boy, Marcus, scrambled to throw his jacket back on, as the man strode over to the door of the ring.
"Marcus, you're supposed to be out finding yourself a Middle School to go to!" the man growled.
"I am! Or, I was! I just got sidetracked," Marcus replied, waving his arms around, "but I found the person I was looking for! He'll be here in the city tonight! I'll get into a boarding school and won't bother you with this anymore!"
"See that you do, I'm sick and tired of this. Now go home and have your clothes sent to the cleaners. No son of mine will have that kind of mess on his school uniform," the man replied, putting his hat back on and strolling out of the pub. Marcus visibly rolled his eyes as he put his tie back on.
"Fuck him," he spat out, "I'm going to boarding school because I can't stand this anymore." Marcus straightened his tie and buttoned his jacket. "If you come back here at 6:15, I'll show you where the place on that card is," he pointed at the card in Yamcha's hand, before spinning and jogging out of the pub.
Following Marcus' instructions, Yamcha, Bulma, and Puar all waited calmly outside the pub. At 6:15 sharp, the boy walked around the corner wearing a white gi with a black obi. He was closely followed by a girl with neck length straight black hair in the same outfit.
"This is my friend Micaela. Now follow me, it's a bit of a doozy to find that building," Marcus said, walking up the road. Yamcha and the rest followed him through all the winding streets and back alleys of Orange Star City. Finally, after rounding a corner, they arrived at an old warehouse with a large red "NO TRESPASSING" sign on the front, written in both Western and Eastern.
The building was seemingly in the perfect location- out of the way of everything, and conveniently obscured by most buildings around it, and the only way in was through a back alley, since the road that led to it had a collapsed bridge just outside of it that hadn't even started to be repaired. The group of five walked over to the entrance, and stopped when they saw two huge men with guns at their sides. The two men looked at them, then the one on the right spoke.
"You here for the fight?" all of them nodded. The men stepped to the side. "I hope you can handle it. This ain't a playground here, this is the real shit."
"I got it," Yamcha said. He wasn't going to deny that he was nervous about this, but his streak was going great so far, and so long as he didn't get overconfident or in over his head, it seemed like he could continue it. What really surprised him was Marcus' demeanor.
"Don't look at me like that, I'm here to fight someone, too. Probably the most fun I'll get for the rest of the year," Marcus said. They walked until they reached the door, where a third guy with a metal pipe at his side nodded at them and pulled open the warehouse door. The metal groaned loudly until it opened completely. Yamcha closed his eyes and shook his head to ensure he wasn't seeing things.
Inside was a bunch of people sitting on makeshift bleachers and cheering as a guy was slammed into a shoulder-high fence surrounding a ring of white stone, before being picked up and thrown out of it, falling the six feet to the concrete ground and landing on his head with a sickening CRUNCH.
"Huh," Micaela said, "the fence is smaller than it was last time I was here, maybe they enjoy people getting thrown over it?" The shirtless guy the in ring cracked his knuckles and grinned.
"Anyone else?! Anyone else feel like dying at my fist?!" he screamed, to the cheers of the entire crowd.
"That's your fight," Marcus said, shoving Yamcha up, next to the ring. The announcer looked at him, nodded, then had a staircase moved up for him to walk up, before opening the cage of fences for him to walk through.
"Well, what do you know? Someone who actually looks like they can fight. I hope you give me a better fight than the rest of the sissies that showed up here tonight," the man said.
"Name's Yamcha. May I at least have the pleasure of knowing your name?" Yamcha asked, getting into position.
"Qing, if you really must know," he said, getting into his own position, "Qing of the Crane School of Martial Arts."
"Begin!" the announcer called. As soon as the words left his mouth, Qing shot forward, determined to end the fight with Yamcha just as quickly as he had the rest. Those expectations were swiftly dashed, however, as Yamcha slid out of the way and delivered a kick to Qing's back, taking advantage of the man's own momentum. Learned that one from Kakarot, Yamcha thought. Qing stumbled into the fence, before spinning around.
"Damn, kid. Maybe you are better than the rest," Qing said, charging. Yamcha charged, too, and they crashed in the centre of the ring. Digging their heels in, both sides tried to over power the other with sheer force from their legs. Qing gave some ground, only for Yamcha to stumble and be pushed back by Qing. Both tried to use their free hand to punch, but were repelled by the other each time.
Recognizing the stalemate, Yamcha broke away and jumped back. Qing, with the loss of the thing he was pushing against, stumbled forward. Yamcha grinned and drove a kick upward, sending Qing flying back through the air. As Yamcha smiled in victory, a shot of fear went though him. Qing righted himself in midair and faced upright, then floated straight up into the air until he was just floating above the audience and glaring down at Yamcha.
"I have to say, I wasn't expecting that. I'm actually having to take this seriously," Qing called down, before putting one hand over his head.
Wait, what is he going to- Yamcha thought, but then his thoughts were silenced with one word from Qing.
"Dodonpa!" he called, throwing his hand down with two fingers extending. A focused yellow beam shot from his hands and down towards Yamcha. Yamcha quickly back flipped, the yellow beam leaving a crack in the arena as it barely missed him. Yamcha landed gracefully back on his feet and glared up at Qing.
"What the hell are you thinking?! There's an audience here!" Yamcha said. Qing narrowed his eyes.
"You don't say," Qing replied, looking down at the audience, specifically where the rest of Yamcha's group was. He pointed his fingers straight at them. "Dodonpa!" The beam shot from his fingertips down at the audience. This is it, bandit. Either block the attack and be disqualified, or don't block it and watch your companions die!
Glaring up at him, Micaela jumped into the air straight at the beam… and backhanded it, curving it through the air and into the wall of the warehouse. Weak, she thought tersely, dropping back to the ground with crossed arms, ignoring the tingling in her hand. Qing stared in disbelief, missing Yamcha climbing up on top of the fence. By the time he did notice, Yamcha had already leaped and was even with him in the air.
Clasping his hands together, Yamcha brought them down hard on Qing's neck, sending him crashing to the ground before he had time to recover. He hit the ground in a heap, while Yamcha came down next to the audience stands. As Yamcha hit the ground, he winced. Note to self, don't do Superhero Landing, it really strains the knees.
The announcer grabbed out his mic. "Err… Yamcha the Desert Bandit is victorious," he said, a bit nonplussed. The audience was a bit quiet. Fuming, Bulma marched up and snatched the mic.
"ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!" she screamed into it. Dead silence. Bulma blushed and handed the mic back to the announcer, who swiped it back, while muttering 'women,' under his breath. Then, one man stood up and started clapping. Then another. Within 30 seconds, the entire room was clapping for Yamcha's victory.
Yamcha strolled up to Bulma, wrapped her in a hug and gave her a kiss. Both Marcus and Micaela stuck out their tongues with a 'Bleh' sound in response. Marcus then turned and ran over to the other side of the room and began speaking with a man with a funny bird hat and sunglasses. After a few minutes of back and forth, he turned and walked into the ring, followed by a young man about Yamcha's age, with a bald head and… three eyes. Yamcha rubbed his own to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Nope, that guy definitely had three eyes.
Bulma, however, was too busy trying to get him to talk about how the fight had gone for him to pay much attention to Marcus' fight. By the time he had gone back to paying attention, the fight was already over, and the three eyed guy had been thrown out of the ring. Marcus walked out of the ring with a smug smile on his face, before giving Yamcha the victory sign.
"I got myself a school. You'll be coming too, Micaela!" he said. Micaela jumped in the air and cheered, while Yamcha smiled and ruffled the kid's hair.
"Train well, Marcus. I hope to see you one of these days at the Tenkaichi Budokai," he said. Marcus nodded furiously.
"I will. I'll become the World Martial Arts Champion and make my parents acknowledge me! And Yamcha, please," he said, brushing his air back, "just call me Mark. Most people do." Yamcha nodded and shook the boy's hand, before turning and walking out of the building with Bulma and Puar. He couldn't believe it! He'd just beaten a person who seemed to be the top student of the Crane School, the main rival to Master Roshi's Turtle School! Bulma was wrapped around his left arm smiling, and Yamcha smiled too. Things were finally looking up. He'd go to the Tenkaichi Budokai and earn a good name and reputation for himself! He might not win, but at least he could make it to the quarter-finals. Hopefully no one would deny him that much.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The punch came from the right. Instinctively, Yamcha deflected the punch and kicked the man in the side, knocking him to the ground and out of the fight. "Anyone else interested in a fight?" he asked. No one spoke up. He'd been wandering around fighting different people for over a month, sharpening his skills in combat and learning new skills to enhance his own. Though, few people tried to challenge him outright anymore, so he'd always have to move on. Thankfully, with peace having been declared between the Red Ribbon Army and the World Government, they could travel freely.As if on cue, a large muscled man with a sharp tan and a buzz cut stood up and walked over to Yamcha, smoking his cigar all the while. "Yeah, okay," he said, reaching into his pocket and handing Yamcha a card, "be there at 19:00, we have a few fights there tonight. And be discreet, we don't want any issues with the police." The man then turned and walked out of the pub, leaving Yamcha behind with most of the patrons staring at their betting cards.
Shrugging, Yamcha walked over to where Bulma and Puar were waiting for him. Puar returned to Yamcha's shoulder, while Bulma gave him a kiss in congratulations.
"Congratulations on another fight won, Yamcha! Now then, where to?" Bulma said.
"We wait here until 7, then we head to the location here, I got offered a fight," Yamcha explained, handing her the card. Bulma blinked and shook her head.
"No clue where that is, I suppose we could-" she began, but was interrupted when someone ran up to Yamcha.
"You were so cool!" a voice shouted. Yamcha turned around to see a short boy in a school uniform with short, curly black hair and deep blue eyes looking at him in awe. Yamcha scratched the back of his head nervously.
"Thanks, kid. I'm glad you think so!" Yamcha said. The boy nodded his head rapidly.
"It's not just that, it's the technique that you used. I could see at least five different styles, yet you consistently managed to make it flow perfectly!" the boy said. "Hey, I know, could I try fighting you?"
Yamcha did a double take, before sighing. "Kid, unless you have a brown monkey tail, you don't wanna try fighting me," Yamcha said.
The boy shrugged, "I've trained with someone with a brown monkey tail, it should count."
Yamcha blinked rapidly, then slumped his shoulders, "Fine, but if you get hurt, I don't want the bill."
"That's fine! I just wanna have fun here!" the boy cheered, running into the fighting ring. Bulma lightly pushed Yamcha in after him, Puar jumped back over to Bulma's shoulder, and the referee sweatdropped, before closing the ring's doors.
The boy stretched his legs and took off his jacket and tie, laying them on the edge of the arena, leaving only his white dress shirt, black dress pants, and shined shoes. "I wish I had time to change into my normal fighting clothes, but it won't affect all that much," the boy said, rolling up his sleeves carefully.
Yamcha cracked his knuckles, "Just because you're familiar with Kakarot doesn't mean you can fight me at full strength."
"Kaka-what?" the boy asked. Before Yamcha could respond, the referee called the match to start.
The boy charged and smashed his fist into Yamcha's arm. Wincing at the shocking amount of pain, Yamcha struck the boy with other palm. The boy stumbled back but managed to keep his feet. Looking dead on at Yamcha, the boy ran up to him and threw a barrage of punches. Surprised, Yamcha turn the tables, but the boy in front of him matched him almost blow for blow.
Hoping to end it quickly, Yamcha punched forward with all his might, only to be met head on by the boy's fist. However, even with the boy's skill, Yamcha's strength proved the better, and the boys arm snapped back with a crack and Yamcha ended the fight by sweeping the boy's feet out from under him, sending him to the dirt on his rump.
"MARCUS!" a loud male voice called. The boy's eyes widened as he scrambled to his feet. Yamcha looked out of the ring to see a man in a three piece suit, with a suitcase in one hand and a bowler hat under one arm. As the boy, Marcus, scrambled to throw his jacket back on, as the man strode over to the door of the ring.
"Marcus, you're supposed to be out finding yourself a Middle School to go to!" the man growled.
"I am! Or, I was! I just got sidetracked," Marcus replied, waving his arms around, "but I found the person I was looking for! He'll be here in the city tonight! I'll get into a boarding school and won't bother you with this anymore!"
"See that you do, I'm sick and tired of this. Now go home and have your clothes sent to the cleaners. No son of mine will have that kind of mess on his school uniform," the man replied, putting his hat back on and strolling out of the pub. Marcus visibly rolled his eyes as he put his tie back on.
"Fuck him," he spat out, "I'm going to boarding school because I can't stand this anymore." Marcus straightened his tie and buttoned his jacket. "If you come back here at 6:15, I'll show you where the place on that card is," he pointed at the card in Yamcha's hand, before spinning and jogging out of the pub.
-R&R-
Following Marcus' instructions, Yamcha, Bulma, and Puar all waited calmly outside the pub. At 6:15 sharp, the boy walked around the corner wearing a white gi with a black obi. He was closely followed by a girl with neck length straight black hair in the same outfit.
"This is my friend Micaela. Now follow me, it's a bit of a doozy to find that building," Marcus said, walking up the road. Yamcha and the rest followed him through all the winding streets and back alleys of Orange Star City. Finally, after rounding a corner, they arrived at an old warehouse with a large red "NO TRESPASSING" sign on the front, written in both Western and Eastern.
The building was seemingly in the perfect location- out of the way of everything, and conveniently obscured by most buildings around it, and the only way in was through a back alley, since the road that led to it had a collapsed bridge just outside of it that hadn't even started to be repaired. The group of five walked over to the entrance, and stopped when they saw two huge men with guns at their sides. The two men looked at them, then the one on the right spoke.
"You here for the fight?" all of them nodded. The men stepped to the side. "I hope you can handle it. This ain't a playground here, this is the real shit."
"I got it," Yamcha said. He wasn't going to deny that he was nervous about this, but his streak was going great so far, and so long as he didn't get overconfident or in over his head, it seemed like he could continue it. What really surprised him was Marcus' demeanor.
"Don't look at me like that, I'm here to fight someone, too. Probably the most fun I'll get for the rest of the year," Marcus said. They walked until they reached the door, where a third guy with a metal pipe at his side nodded at them and pulled open the warehouse door. The metal groaned loudly until it opened completely. Yamcha closed his eyes and shook his head to ensure he wasn't seeing things.
Inside was a bunch of people sitting on makeshift bleachers and cheering as a guy was slammed into a shoulder-high fence surrounding a ring of white stone, before being picked up and thrown out of it, falling the six feet to the concrete ground and landing on his head with a sickening CRUNCH.
"Huh," Micaela said, "the fence is smaller than it was last time I was here, maybe they enjoy people getting thrown over it?" The shirtless guy the in ring cracked his knuckles and grinned.
"Anyone else?! Anyone else feel like dying at my fist?!" he screamed, to the cheers of the entire crowd.
"That's your fight," Marcus said, shoving Yamcha up, next to the ring. The announcer looked at him, nodded, then had a staircase moved up for him to walk up, before opening the cage of fences for him to walk through.
"Well, what do you know? Someone who actually looks like they can fight. I hope you give me a better fight than the rest of the sissies that showed up here tonight," the man said.
"Name's Yamcha. May I at least have the pleasure of knowing your name?" Yamcha asked, getting into position.
"Qing, if you really must know," he said, getting into his own position, "Qing of the Crane School of Martial Arts."
-R&R-
"Begin!" the announcer called. As soon as the words left his mouth, Qing shot forward, determined to end the fight with Yamcha just as quickly as he had the rest. Those expectations were swiftly dashed, however, as Yamcha slid out of the way and delivered a kick to Qing's back, taking advantage of the man's own momentum. Learned that one from Kakarot, Yamcha thought. Qing stumbled into the fence, before spinning around.
"Damn, kid. Maybe you are better than the rest," Qing said, charging. Yamcha charged, too, and they crashed in the centre of the ring. Digging their heels in, both sides tried to over power the other with sheer force from their legs. Qing gave some ground, only for Yamcha to stumble and be pushed back by Qing. Both tried to use their free hand to punch, but were repelled by the other each time.
Recognizing the stalemate, Yamcha broke away and jumped back. Qing, with the loss of the thing he was pushing against, stumbled forward. Yamcha grinned and drove a kick upward, sending Qing flying back through the air. As Yamcha smiled in victory, a shot of fear went though him. Qing righted himself in midair and faced upright, then floated straight up into the air until he was just floating above the audience and glaring down at Yamcha.
"I have to say, I wasn't expecting that. I'm actually having to take this seriously," Qing called down, before putting one hand over his head.
Wait, what is he going to- Yamcha thought, but then his thoughts were silenced with one word from Qing.
"Dodonpa!" he called, throwing his hand down with two fingers extending. A focused yellow beam shot from his hands and down towards Yamcha. Yamcha quickly back flipped, the yellow beam leaving a crack in the arena as it barely missed him. Yamcha landed gracefully back on his feet and glared up at Qing.
"What the hell are you thinking?! There's an audience here!" Yamcha said. Qing narrowed his eyes.
"You don't say," Qing replied, looking down at the audience, specifically where the rest of Yamcha's group was. He pointed his fingers straight at them. "Dodonpa!" The beam shot from his fingertips down at the audience. This is it, bandit. Either block the attack and be disqualified, or don't block it and watch your companions die!
Glaring up at him, Micaela jumped into the air straight at the beam… and backhanded it, curving it through the air and into the wall of the warehouse. Weak, she thought tersely, dropping back to the ground with crossed arms, ignoring the tingling in her hand. Qing stared in disbelief, missing Yamcha climbing up on top of the fence. By the time he did notice, Yamcha had already leaped and was even with him in the air.
Clasping his hands together, Yamcha brought them down hard on Qing's neck, sending him crashing to the ground before he had time to recover. He hit the ground in a heap, while Yamcha came down next to the audience stands. As Yamcha hit the ground, he winced. Note to self, don't do Superhero Landing, it really strains the knees.
The announcer grabbed out his mic. "Err… Yamcha the Desert Bandit is victorious," he said, a bit nonplussed. The audience was a bit quiet. Fuming, Bulma marched up and snatched the mic.
"ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!" she screamed into it. Dead silence. Bulma blushed and handed the mic back to the announcer, who swiped it back, while muttering 'women,' under his breath. Then, one man stood up and started clapping. Then another. Within 30 seconds, the entire room was clapping for Yamcha's victory.
Yamcha strolled up to Bulma, wrapped her in a hug and gave her a kiss. Both Marcus and Micaela stuck out their tongues with a 'Bleh' sound in response. Marcus then turned and ran over to the other side of the room and began speaking with a man with a funny bird hat and sunglasses. After a few minutes of back and forth, he turned and walked into the ring, followed by a young man about Yamcha's age, with a bald head and… three eyes. Yamcha rubbed his own to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Nope, that guy definitely had three eyes.
Bulma, however, was too busy trying to get him to talk about how the fight had gone for him to pay much attention to Marcus' fight. By the time he had gone back to paying attention, the fight was already over, and the three eyed guy had been thrown out of the ring. Marcus walked out of the ring with a smug smile on his face, before giving Yamcha the victory sign.
"I got myself a school. You'll be coming too, Micaela!" he said. Micaela jumped in the air and cheered, while Yamcha smiled and ruffled the kid's hair.
"Train well, Marcus. I hope to see you one of these days at the Tenkaichi Budokai," he said. Marcus nodded furiously.
"I will. I'll become the World Martial Arts Champion and make my parents acknowledge me! And Yamcha, please," he said, brushing his air back, "just call me Mark. Most people do." Yamcha nodded and shook the boy's hand, before turning and walking out of the building with Bulma and Puar. He couldn't believe it! He'd just beaten a person who seemed to be the top student of the Crane School, the main rival to Master Roshi's Turtle School! Bulma was wrapped around his left arm smiling, and Yamcha smiled too. Things were finally looking up. He'd go to the Tenkaichi Budokai and earn a good name and reputation for himself! He might not win, but at least he could make it to the quarter-finals. Hopefully no one would deny him that much.
