Part 33, Chapter 164.

Official hero (Part 1/2)

 

Little break! Here are two chapters written by Salagir, they tell a short story. We hope you enjoy it :)

 

Translation by npberryhill and Guilarai

 

Goku looks for a job

 

Earth, year 775, universe 18.

Once again, the world — the universe even — had been saved from destruction. One of the primary agents responsible for this victory, the extraterrestrial warrior raised on Earth — Son Goku — had been gifted another life, after seven years of being separated from his family.

But his joy had quickly given way, after only a few months, to the drudgery of domestic life. His wife Chichi had always been very conservative, and now that he was back she was insistent upon him earning enough to support his little family.

“No more of this wasting your days training! You’ve got two sons going to school and a house that needs its leaky roof repaired! These bills are piling up and they’re not the kind you can pay with hunting and fishing!”

Goku thought it wasn’t fair that when Shenron, the Sacred Dragon, had restored the Earth with their wish, the dragon had meticulously made sure to add the leaks back to his roof. But he also knew there could be no arguing with his wife. The only time that ever worked was when the entire world was in danger.

“So, you want me... to sell my fish at the market? Or to drive a tractor in a field?”

“Come on, Goku, have a little imagination! You’re the strongest man on the entire planet! Surely there’s a job out there that’ll pay more! Just go win at every sport and tournament that exists!”

“That wouldn’t be very fair to the other athletes, would it?”

“Ahh, Goku you’re getting on my nerves! Why don’t you go ask Bulma then, she runs a company with a million employees!”

Agreeing that was a good idea, the Saiyan placed two fingers on his forehead to help him concentrate. He waited briefly for someone in Bulma’s entourage to make their ki noticeable, through whatever outburst or release of energy that might be. Then he’d lock on and teleport.

It would probably be Vegeta. But lately, the latter had become irritated with Goku using him as a relay by which he could pop in and out of the capital, and took a stubborn malicious pleasure in hiding his energy signature. However, even if he raised his voice slightly, his friend-enemy could easily sense him — which meant about two thousand times a day. This time, it was Bulma’s energy he felt first. Goku disappeared.

 

Goku appeared in West City, the Capital, more precisely in the family home of the Capsule Corporation — in the right wing, in the... bathroom.

“SON— SHIT!” Bulma swore. “GOKU I’M A LITTLE OCCUPIED!! Get out of here NOW!”

As a child, it had taken Goku a really long time to get accustomed to the simplest rules of decorum, but even he knew better than to disturb someone when they were on the pot. Without arguing, he hurriedly made his exit and shut the door behind him.

“I told you never to teleport to me again without calling first!” she shouted through the door. “I literally gave you a phone just for that!”

“Oh, right, hahah. Sorry, Goten took it to play Candy Buu. You were pushing hard though, weren’t you? I could really feel your energy surge, it must’ve been quite the commission!”

“Shut up! I swear I’ll ask Vegeta to kill you! You’re about to die for the third time!”

“Well... I don’t think he’s strong enough for that anymore,” grumbled the unwanted guest under his breath...

A bit later, after Bulma delivered a pair of slaps, somehow managing not to hurt her hand too much, Goku explained to her his concerns — in between words he was stuffing his face with bites of pastry. Bulma’s robots had learned to recognize this particular guest, and eagerly followed him around, providing trays of treats.

To the Lead Technical Director of the largest company in the world, the reaction was obvious.

“A job... Oh is your poor wife so out of touch? As if you’d be able to accomplish even the simplest of daily tasks! I don’t want anyone on Earth to hire you, unless they intend on causing a worldwide depression! The only thing you’re good at is training...”

“That’s what I tried to tell her.”

“....Aaaaand saving the world. The first thing is necessary so you can do the second.”

“Yes?...”

Bulma seemed to lose herself in thought a few seconds, before standing up.

“Well, it seems straightforward to me. You train to save the world from danger. You’re basically doing the job of a soldier — it’s a really important and useful profession. So, keep doing what you’ve been doing. We’ll pay you for that, and you save the world when the need arises.”

“All right,” Goku replied, nodding appreciatively at the simple solution. “So how will this work?”

“It’s already done.”

A card popped out of the console, and Bulma took it and handed it to her friend.

“Use this credit card. I’ve transferred a million Zeni to the account, and it will be credited with another five hundred thousand per month. It’ll be your salary, and should cover whatever expenses you have — honestly, for saving the Earth that’s a bargain.”

“Are you the one paying?”

“Well yes. I can afford it, plus I already cover the expenses of a Saiyan Prince that does nothing but train all day. Let’s say I’m the official sponsor of Earth’s defense...”

“All right. But don’t you want me to reimburse you the way he does?”

Bulma blushed suddenly, in spite of knowing full well it was impossible for Goku to have been implying the thing her mind had gone to. She couldn’t help but answer with a sly smile anyway.

“Hummm... I already have Vegeta for that my little Goku... But if you insist, maybe we could...”

“I could bring you the most massive fish I can find! And sometimes I run across a boar.”

“Sure. Obviously. Well, you’d better get going before we start talking more bullshit.”

“Great, thanks so much, Bulma! Chichi will be very happy!”

 

But Chichi was not, in fact, happy in the slightest.

“Paid to do nothing!? And by Bulma!?”

“What’s the problem?”

“It’s absolutely off the table, I forbid you to accept some pension! Even more so when it’s pocket money from that bourgeoise out of pity! For Kami’s sake, do you have no dignity? We can’t take her money! And you’ve got to find a real honest job!”

Son Goku didn’t understand exactly what his wife was complaining about, but he knew he had to start over. So, he headed to see the second smartest person he knew after Bulma, his eldest son.

He had to wait until the weekend though, as Son Gohan had homework he had to do after school, and it took him hours every night. On Saturday, at dawn, he took him to a fishing spot he’d noticed on a flyover, about eight hundred kilometers from the house. It was a breezy five minute flight over, as they’d chosen not to fire their auras to the full so as to not awaken the younger brother — who was sleeping soundly.

Above the clear torrent, the two most powerful warriors in the universe were striving to catch fish with their bare hands. They did so as slowly as possible, to give them a chance for a big haul of fish.

“Bulma’s thinking isn’t that crazy,” Gohan said. “You are a full time defender of Earth. It actually makes sense for you to be given some sort of payment or salary for what you’re already doing.”

“But Chichi doesn’t want me to.”

“Well, I think it’s more that she doesn’t want Bulma to be the one giving it to you. If you were a special soldier in the King’s army, I’ve a hunch she might see things differently.”

“Hmm. Well then, let’s go ask the King!”

“I would make sure you insist on the “special” part.”

“Do you know where to go for me to ask something like that?”

Gohan released a fish he’d been holding back into the river, understanding that was it for now. He then waved his arms up and down once, causing a wave outwards from his body, starting at his feet. He then floated over to his bag and pulled out a small handheld device with his perfectly dry hands. In his civics classes, he’d learned about the military headquarters, and with a quick historical search he found information on the local “pentagon” — a place that was both administrative and used as a large-scale barracks, known for its tanks, planes, and finicky guard.

Indeed, they realized just how serious the security was, as turrets began firing at them as they flew closer — on the pretext that, as they were living beings and didn’t have radios, they were not responding to any hails or warnings. The Saiyans dodged all the shots easily and landed in front of the large entry doors, facing two trembling guards, who half-heartedly threatened them with firearms.

“Don’t... don’t... don’t move!” ordered the private second class.

“We come in peace,” Gohan quickly replied, first in his class.

“Hi! How are you guys? Y'all aren’t the best shots!” Goku said, with zero class.

Gohan put his hand on his father’s shoulder to silence him.

“We’d like a word with your superiors, please.”

 

Goku’s resume

 

After some time, and with a great deal of scrutiny, the two intruders entered the base, surrounded by heavy guard — though they were not invited into the buildings. It was a general who eventually greeted them in the inner courtyard.

Gohan spoke first.

“I’d like to begin with a little history before I get to why we’re here, if you don’t mind. Back in the year 753, the demon king Piccolo Daimao destroyed the King’s Castle and everything around it, a whole city. Shortly after that, he was defeated.” Gohan gestured to his side. “...Defeated by Son Goku, standing here with us now.”

“Stop there,” the general said. “Do you take me for an imbecile? That was twenty two years ago, this man would’ve been nothing but a child at the time.”

“Well yes, I was...” Goku said, starting to count on his fingers... but was stopped again by his son who put a hand on his shoulder.

“He was fifteen.”

“You’re saying this man is 37 years old? He looks 20, and doesn’t have a single scar. Not even a wrinkle.”

“He is the most distinguished student of the Turtle School, led by Master Muten Roshi, a man whom I’m sure you know is several hundred years old. Moreover, by consulting the archives of the Tenkaichi Budokai, you’ll find listed the participation of Son Goku — the records will show he always finished first or second.”

The general gestured to an inferior nearby that began rummaging through his tablet.

“Afterwards...”

“Wait.”

They allowed the assistant to finish fact checking, then he reported his results to the general.

“I can confirm that Son Goku participated in the 21st, 22nd, 23rd, and most recently the 25th tournaments. And it also seems that the King reported seeing a child fight Piccolo,” concluded the assistant.

“Seems so. But nothing proves this man is that kid.”

“No, but frankly they are dressed exactly the same, and he has the same haircut as the child in the photo.”

“No one stays that consistent over time, the same hair and clothes. This smells fishy.”

“After that,” Gohan resumed, not rattled, “Piccolo returned once more, in a younger form, to the… hum, 23rd tournament, actually. That resulted in the destruction of the entire island, but Goku stopped him. You can compare the photos, as he was an adult by that point.”

“Exactly! Not even a wrinkle since then! It’s cosplay for sure, no one looks the same twenty years later!”

“Well Tom Cru...”

“Hollywood actors don’t count!”

“Are you saying you want me to change my hair?” Goku asked, pointing to his head. “Here you go!”

As he surrounded himself with yellow light, emanating from within, his hair suddenly spiked up and changed color.

Surprised by the sudden whirlwind emanating from him, the crowd jumped back and some nearly discharged their firearms — which would’ve surely caused an incident.

“Slow down, Dad,” Gohan said. “So, after that, two aliens attacked the Earth and destroyed a city. Again, it was Goku that defeated them.”

“Come on, Gohan, if we succeeded there, it was mainly thanks to you and Krillin,” Goku said humbly.

“You’re only complicating things, I’m not the one looking for a job.” Gohan turned back to the general. “After that, there was Cell, who wreaked havoc everywhere he went.”

“Don’t you need to tell them about Frieza and his arrival on Earth?”

“No, they wouldn’t know about that. There were no TV recordings. The first big fight was with Cell, and you’ll notice he had the same face, with his golden hair also.”

“But we know for a fact it was Mr. Satan who defeated Cell,” the general said.

“Yes yes, but you see, we helped also.”

Goku now understood that his son was using a fragmented version of the truth to ease the soldier’s acceptance of the other truths. But still, it had been Son Gohan who actually defeated Cell! He had to restrain himself, as he really wanted to give his son the credit, but could tell Gohan didn’t want him to speak up.

The General continued looking at the tablet handed to him by his assistant, and recognized Goku’s appearance as a Super Saiyan.

“Finally, more recently, Babidi and Buu threatened the planet. Goku was the one who defeated them.”

“No, that was Mr. Satan again.”

“Goku was there to help. Remember one of the voices asking you to share your energy? Before Mr. Satan, it was Goku who spoke.”

“We should be able to do a spectrographic analysis of his voice,” the assistant added to his General. “It’s much more difficult to reproduce than the physical appearance.”

“As for Mr. Satan, he knows us well and I’m sure he’ll be happy to corroborate our statements and argue in our favor.”

The prospect that they were so close with the great hero did far more to impress the general than anything he’d heard previously.

“In summation, Son Goku here is a specialist warrior that has defended the Earth against many attacks, a powerful fighter capable of facing any danger. What we would like to offer is the chance for you to integrate him into your army as a consultant. He would make himself available whenever your orders necessitated, but he wouldn’t come in every day if there’s no threat. He actually spends most of his time training on his own so that he is always prepared to face whatever comes.”

“He could train just as well here with us,” an instructor offered.

“You wouldn’t be able to keep up,” Goku answered with a chuckle, before Gohan had time to respond or stop him.

“What do you take us for!?” a soldier shouted.

“Allow us to demonstrate,” Gohan said, raising his voice. “I was planning to show you all anyway, so everyone pay attention... here’s what we are capable of!”

And so to offer proof, the Saiyans stopped bullets, smashed through armored walls, carried tanks, and won in a race against fighter jets. Nothing very exciting.

Afterwards, Goku was instructed to return the next day.

 

Tests, day 1

 

This time he was directed towards an office building. Upon entering, he was surprised to see not the General but rather a lady in a suit instead.

“Hello, I’m Matilda Châ. You can call me Matt. I’ll be in charge of your evaluation, determining whether or not you are trustworthy and would be a good integration into our army.”

“Hi! I’m Goku!’

“Yes... I know. Well then, we’ve checked with your references and Mr. Satan in particular spoke very highly of you. He even insisted that you be paid handsomely and be given as much freedom as possible.”

“All right.”

“There’s also a letter from Ms. Brief of the Capsule Corporation. She feels it is well past time that you be paid for all your endeavors, including a mention of retroactive pay — she also advises that we try not to bother you. However, there is also a letter from Mr. Brief...”

“Mister... Brief?”

“Let me quote: ‘You’d better get rid of this clown as soon as possible, he’ll devour all the food reserves on your base and smash all your planes into a thousand pieces. Kakarotto’s judgment is so poor that he’ll make the worst decision possible time and again. He strikes first and thinks later, or rather he never uses his brain at all. He’s an idiot and a moron.’ Can you explain his opinion to us, Mr. Goku?”

“Oh, haha! I get it, Vegeta’s probably playing a joke on me. Actually, he adores me.”

“Ah... and can you also explain who this alien named Kami-Sama is?”

“Dende? He’s the guardian of the Earth. Did he send you a reference letter too?”

“No, he actually appeared in a dream to all of the staff... praising you of course.”

“Nice.”

The lady paused, sighing and moving on. “Mr. Goku, in this office right now is a soldier waiting to ambush you. Do you think you’ll be able to stop him?”

“Are you talking about the guy behind this partition here, the one whose ki is really agitated? I was wondering what he was doing back there.”

Annoyed, the lieutenant who was in hiding jumped out and began firing. Well, he would have if his automatic rifle had been in one piece. During his side step, Goku had zipped in front of him and crushed the weapon in one hand.

“Sure, that was easy to stop,” Goku said.

The lieutenant, extremely irritated, was about to hit Goku directly in the face, but remembered the previous day when a colossus of a soldier had tried the same thing... and now his hand was in plaster.

“Well,” said Matt, “I’d like to move on to a few psychological tests then. Follow me.”

They entered a smaller room, furnished with a single chair and table. The walls were bare, except for a massive and obviously colorless mirror, no doubt for observation. On the table was a single marshmallow placed on a small dish.

“You see here a single marshmallow,” Matt said. “You can eat it at any time, but...”

*Chomp*

And the white fluffy candy was swallowed.

“Wait... did you already eat it??” Matt said, raising her voice.

“You said I could.”

“I wasn’t... I wasn’t finished giving you the instructions! It was a test of your resistance to temptation, and here you’ve broken the worst rule by far!”

“I’m no good, huh?

“NO! I... okay just listen. We’ll try it again tomorrow, because you’ve broken all the parameters of the experiment. But from now on, you must wait until I’ve finished giving you a full explanation before you act or respond, do you understand?”

“All right, sure,” Goku said, flashing a smile.

Taken aback by his candor, the psychologist put her head in her hand before heading for the exit.

“To the next room then. This way, I need to sit down.”

This time there were two comfortable armchairs.

 

“Now then, I’m going to present to you a scenario based around choice. You will think it over, make a choice, and then explain to me the reasoning behind your decision. Understood?”

“Of course.”

“This first test is called the trolley dilemma. Imagine that you are the driver of a train, traveling full speed along a track. Further down your current path, the train will crash into five people, killing them for sure. But you can operate a lever that will cause the train to change tracks. The other track, however, contains one person who will also be run over if you choose to change lanes. What would you decide to do?”

“Well, if this train is about to run over people, can’t they just move out of the way, off the tracks?”

“The train is out of control and going very fast. No one will have time to move; you and you alone have the time to react and, if you decide to, change lanes.”

“Alright. Well, if it’s me on the train, I can surely hop in front and just stop it. That way nobody would be crushed.”

“No no, I’m telling you that you can’t do that.”

“Oh I assure you I’m much stronger than a train. And beyond that, I think it would be really easy to stop. I could even fly it into the air off the tracks and take it wherever I wanted. Or, I could teleport the entire train somewhere else safe...”

“Sir, this is a mental exercise in choice, not a real scenario. Perhaps if you imagined this train was rather a powerful alien, one which you can’t hope to stop. All you can do, if you decide, is force him to change lanes between the five or the one — it’s your decision.”

“Well, I could teleport to the five people and move them out of the way. Even teleport again, for example.”

She tried to be patient. “Let’s say you don’t have time.”

“It’s instant transmission, so I would, but to answer anyway... I suppose I would make it change lanes.”

“Ah, so that’s your answer. You decide, rather than doing nothing, to sacrifice one person in order to save five.”

“Well, not exactly, I would change lanes and then teleport to the one person and save them. It’s easier to save one person rather than five.”

“Very well. Then, imagine the same scenario with the train once more, only this time the one person is someone you know. Perhaps it is your son, Gohan.”

“Wait, so I sent the train towards Gohan?”

“No no, we’re starting back at the beginning. Imagine that you’re back on the train that is out of control, rushing at five people. You can use a lever that will send it towards your son instead. You definitely don’t have time to save your son or the five people. In this situation, would you still have the train change tracks?”

“Oh sure, it’s much easier now!”

“Really?”

“Of course. I’d change the train lanes immediately. Gohan’s really strong and in absolutely no danger of being hurt by a train.”

“Well, maybe it’s a train whose power is maximum... I guess...”

“Even if it was the strongest train in the universe, Gohan would know how to avoid it, attack it, or manage something.”

Matt Châ rubbed her temple, imploring Goku with her eyes to remain within the parameters of the experiment. Seeing her, Goku remembered he was supposed to explain his decision.

“You see, Gohan is very very strong.”

“Yes, but... let me remind you this is an alien train, with powers that would crush even those of your son. In this thought experiment, you have to imagine that neither you nor him have any hope of stopping this train.”

“So, I would be sending Gohan to certain death? I guess it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Pardon?”

“My decision is, either way I would send the train towards Gohan. He would want me to, that’s the kind of person he is. He’s like me, he’d face any danger head on in order to protect others, that’s just what we do. Those other five people wouldn’t stand a chance, they aren’t warriors are they? It’s up to us to deal with the alien train. And Gohan would never forgive me if I let five people get crushed when it was possible for me to send the danger towards him instead.”

Matt seemed to relax, pondering. “A very intriguing answer, still. But, what if the single victim isn’t feeling so heroic? I pose the question again from scratch. You’re on the crazy train headed towards five people...”

“If the situation has repeated itself this many times, I’m pretty sure my friends and I would’ve shown up to fight the train by now, or at least have prevented the five people from being on the tracks.”

She shook her head in frustrated disbelief. “Fine, last scenario. You can redirect the train, but this time it will smash into your friend Bulma Brief. Do you?”

For a brief moment, Goku seemed to ponder the situation. Meanwhile, Matt was inwardly shaking at the prospect of soon being informed that Capsule Corporations director, Lady Bulma Brief, was also a super-powered warrior capable of stopping a train with a single finger.

As Goku continued to silently reflect, Matt gave him another glance.

“What’s causing you to hesitate?”

“Oh, nothing really. The choice is still obvious. I was actually just imagining the situation because you’re right: That’s all on Bulma! She’s aware of the danger, but has for some reason put herself in the middle of that situation as if nothing was happening...”

“Ah good. So the obvious choice would be...?”

“I’d send the train towards Bulma.”

Matt Châ was flabbergasted.

“Yeah, it would be simpler in the long run. She’s probably aware of what’s happening, and if she is there she knows the risks. So when we bring her back from the dead, she won’t need much explanation. If we had to revive five strangers instead, we’d have to explain to them about the Dragon Balls and everything. You understand that would probably be more complicated, plus we can only do it once a year so there would be some waiting... if they had families they would be worried...”

Matt looked dumbfounded yet again, her discouraged silence filling the room.

“So... you also have the power to bring back people from the dead then?” she finally asked.

“Oh, not me, no, haha!” Goku answered.

“I... I think that’s probably enough for today,” she replied, very troubled. “I’ll see you again tomorrow. Thanks.”

With that, she left the room with a tottering step.