Dragon Ball Roshi-Chapter 292: Little Bulma, So Much Trouble

The hustle and bustle of the daytime had faded, and as the starry night descended, the liveliness of the evening promptly began.

Everyone keeping up with the grand event of the World Martial Arts Tournament continued without exception to discuss the results of the preliminary matches across the five main divisions. Among the contestants were many well-established martial artists—true celebrities within the martial world. Normally, these famous names would be the main topic of conversation.

But today, the focus had shifted!

Whether it was the East City Division, the West City Division, the South City Division, the North City Division, or the Central Division—whether offline spectators or countless netizens on the Virtual Earth Network—everyone had turned their attention toward one particular contestant! frёewebηovel.cѳm

Son Goku!

Eight years old!

He had swept through the preliminaries with overwhelming momentum, earning a spot in the West City Division's top sixteen elimination bracket!

The most striking part? No one even knew where this young prodigy had come from, and yet—he was the personal heir of the legendary Son Gohan!

And who was Son Gohan?

The only known direct disciple of the one and only Mu Taro, the Muten Roshi!

An invincible martial artist who had dominated and won ten consecutive World Martial Arts Tournament championships across fifty years! Other than Muten Roshi himself, Son Gohan was universally acknowledged as the greatest fighter in the world!

"He's finally appeared!"

"One hundred years—it's been a full century! The Muten Roshi who lived in legend and historical footage finally has news again!"

"If there wasn't real video proof of the first World Martial Arts Tournament, I'd honestly doubt whether Muten Roshi ever existed at all!"

At this very moment, across the Virtual Earth Network that connected everyone on the planet, the nine great virtual capital cities were abuzz with activity. Of the countless millions of people online, all were fervently discussing the latest developments in the World Martial Arts Tournament.

Beneath the sky of the virtual world, in the nine great capitals, countless discussion rooms had formed with users gathering together—all talking about the young prodigy who had appeared like a meteor in the West City Division preliminaries of the 20th World Martial Arts Tournament: the rumored great-grand-disciple of the Muten Roshi—Son Goku!

"I heard that Master Son Gohan and Master Muten Roshi were present at Son Goku's match, so why wasn't there any footage? I'd settle for a photo!" said someone in a virtual room where a group of young men—each stylized as muscular powerhouses—had gathered to continue their offline conversation.

On each of their shoulders sat a palm-sized humanoid sprite—intelligent assistants tied to every Virtual Earth Network account. The default assistants came with low-level intelligence, barely capable of parroting network protocols with almost zero adaptability or personality.

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"You idiot! If that really was the Muten Roshi, and he didn't want to be recorded, who the hell could capture him?" someone scoffed in disdain. Everyone knew this guy—he was a devout Muten Roshi fanboy, practically a cultist. Anyone who dared talk trash about Muten Roshi or his teachings in front of him risked a real-life confrontation. He'd take off his virtual helmet and come at you with a cleaver.

His most infamous moment? During a team match in the virtual game Ninja: New Generation, someone disrespected Muten Roshi during an argument. He simply replied coldly, "Give me your address—I'm already prepared to kill."

"Yeah, that makes sense."

"Of course! Muten Roshi is no ordinary man. The fact that we even know he was there is a miracle!"

Everyone quickly agreed, not wanting to provoke him.

There were countless such discussion groups. Among them, one old and well-established group of female martial arts enthusiasts was especially animated.

"Ahhh! I can't take it—Little Goku is too cute!"

"He made me spit a pound of blood from sheer adorableness!"

"I swear I just want to lick that little face—hard!!"

"Restraint! Restraint! At least wait until I finish licking him before you thirsty skanks get your turn!!"

"Shameless!"

"Little Goku belongs to all of us!"

A group of women in the Virtual Earth Network screamed and clung to one another as they stared at the massive projection in the virtual conference room—Son Goku's face, looking at the camera with a pure and innocent confusion.

In the corner of the virtual meeting room, a girl-shaped avatar curled her lips in contempt and muttered, "A bunch of damn hags..." Then she said something to the fairy-like assistant perched on her shoulder. In the next moment, her entire avatar vanished without a sound—she had logged off the Virtual Earth Network.

West City, inside the sprawling mansion of Dr. Brief, the president of Capsule Corporation.

In the private bedroom of the heiress, the bathroom door was shut, and the air inside was thick with steam.

Splash!

A delicate hand broke through the bathwater's surface, holding a metallic ring that looked like a futuristic headband. The hand casually tossed it outside the tub—it was the latest and most expensive model of the Virtual Earth Network connector. Any hardcore techie who saw this would probably blow a gasket and curse the owner of that small hand for wasting such a prized piece of gear.

Bulma had submerged herself at the bottom of her enormous personal bathtub. The warm water covered her entire body, yet she showed no discomfort. She lay there calmly, like a peaceful little mermaid... somehow able to stay underwater without any breathing aid.

Splash, splash...

Finally, little Bulma sat up from the water, creating waves as she did. She leaned over the edge of the tub, face calm and breath steady, pouting as she thought: So that monkey boy's really that amazing? He's actually the disciple of our family's old ancestor?

Thinking back on what she'd overheard in the chatroom she hacked into earlier, twelve-year-old Bulma felt oddly annoyed—though she wasn't sure exactly why. Maybe it was just the way those women kept talking about licking him or whatever. Disgusting, she thought.

Her eyes spun with mischief as her thoughts raced. Then—splash—she sank back into the tub, watching the soap bubbles floating on the surface. They looked like spinning stars... then like a tail... and then they bunched up like a face she didn't like...

---

After passing the preliminaries, Son Goku returned to Muten Roshi Island with Taro, along with Grandpa Gohan and Hathaway, to spend the night. As for Kami, he left the mortal body he had possessed and returned to the Lookout once the group began heading home.