Morning in West City.
Sunlight pierced through the clouds, shining down on the massive dome-shaped headquarters of Capsule Corporation.
A faint scent of something lightly burnt hung in the air, mixed with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
Krillin opened his eyes, feeling refreshed.
The limitless stamina granted by the Saitama Template meant that even after several nights of "high-intensity work," his body required no recovery at all.
Bulma, on the other hand, was clinging to him like a koala.
Her nightgown had ridden up, exposing large patches of smooth, pale skin. Her breathing was heavy, tinged with a tired rasp.
Krillin carefully slipped his arm out from under her.
Bulma let out a soft groan, rolled over, buried her face in the pillow, and muttered, "Don't move… my waist is broken…"
Krillin grinned wickedly, gave the impressively resilient curve a light pat, and got dressed.
When he stepped out of the bedroom and entered the spacious open dining area, the scene before him made him raise an eyebrow.
Blonde Launch was wearing a lace apron that clearly did not fit her. She gripped the spatula like it was a submachine gun.
One foot was planted on an expensive redwood dining chair. Her golden wavy hair swung with each movement, a toothpick clenched between her lips, her expression screaming, "I am extremely unhappy."
The moment she saw Krillin walk in, her hands froze. The spatula nearly dropped into the frying pan.
The memory of being utterly dominated the night before sent a jolt of fear straight up her spine.
"What are you staring at! Never seen a beauty cook before!"
Launch barked, her tone fierce but hollow.
Her voice was noticeably lower than usual, and she refused to meet Krillin's gaze, instead glaring at the bacon in the pan like it had personally wronged her.
Krillin pulled out a chair and sat down, folding his arms as he watched her with interest.
"That's your attitude toward your master? Looks like last night's punishment wasn't thorough enough."
Launch shuddered. Her face flushed bright red as she slammed two plates onto the table.
"Eat! Choke on it!"
The fried eggs were shaped like hearts. Slightly burnt around the edges, with bacon arranged into a smiling face.
The sheer contrast between the adorable plating and Launch's hardened outlaw expression created an absurd sense of humor.
Krillin took a bite and raised his brow in surprise.
"Not bad. Seems you've got talents beyond robbing banks."
"Obviously! I've done everything while on the run!"
Launch snorted and turned to pour coffee. But when she handed him the cup, her fingers trembled slightly, spilling a few drops.
"S-sorry!"
She instinctively reached for a gun, then froze, remembering she was currently a "maid." Panicking, she wiped the table with her apron instead.
Watching her torn between murderous impulse and forced obedience put Krillin in an excellent mood.
At that moment, Bulma shuffled out, yawning.
She was wearing a silk robe, her steps awkward, each one carefully testing the floor.
"Smells so good… huh?"
She rubbed her eyes, then stared at the sight of blonde Launch diligently wiping the table. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head.
"Am I still dreaming? What is that female bandit doing? And what's with the heart-shaped eggs?"
Launch snapped, humiliated, and slammed the cloth down.
"What are you looking at, blue-haired weakling! Keep staring and I'll gouge your eyes out!"
"Who are you calling a weakling?!"
Bulma instantly bristled, the aura of a billionaire genius flaring.
"This is my house! Believe it or not, I can have security robots throw you out!"
"Alright, alright."
Krillin pulled Bulma onto his lap and casually fed her a piece of bacon.
"Try it. Our new maid's cooking is decent."
Bulma chewed suspiciously, her eyes lighting up before dulling again as she sighed and held her jaw.
"It's good, but… my waist…"
Just then, Launch's nose twitched.
Black pepper dust was still lingering in the kitchen.
"Achoo!"
In an instant, the golden curls turned deep blue.
Launch's entire presence changed.
Her arrogant stance collapsed into pigeon-toed nervousness, her eyes becoming soft and timid like a startled deer.
Blue-haired Launch looked at the messy kitchen and Bulma sitting on Krillin's lap. Her face turned crimson as she bowed repeatedly.
"I-I'm so sorry! Did I cause trouble again? I'll clean everything right away! I'm really, really sorry!"
She hurriedly gathered the dishes, her movements gentle and considerate, nothing like the bandit from moments ago.
Bulma leaned against Krillin's chest, watching the busy blue-haired Launch. Her expression slowly grew serious.
She glanced down at her sore thighs, then back at Krillin's energetic face, a man who looked like he could go another hundred rounds without blinking.
A deep sense of crisis and helplessness welled up inside her.
The body enhanced by the Dragon Balls could survive in space, but it had not turned her into a Saiyan or a monster.
These past few days, she had truly learned what it meant to be completely outmatched.
If this continued, she might become the first genius scientist in history to die from excessive happiness.
"Krillin…"
Bulma leaned close to his ear, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
"This Launch… her figure is actually pretty good."
Krillin was drinking coffee and nearly choked.
He looked down at her, pretending innocence.
"What? Thinking of introducing her to a boyfriend?"
"Introduce my foot!"
Bulma pinched his thigh hard, though it barely registered.
"You animal! I mean… I can't handle you anymore. Instead of letting you get tempted by random alien women in the future, I'd rather…"
She bit her lip, clearly wrestling with the decision, then glanced at Launch washing dishes, calculation flashing in her eyes.
"This is a rare resource. Dual personalities. The blue-haired one is so obedient, and the blonde one is scary but clearly terrified of you."
She muttered to herself as her scientist logic began firing at full speed.
"If I pull her into our side, I get rest time and shared firepower. That's the optimal solution!"
Krillin listened to her reasoning, a knowing smile forming.
You brought this on yourself.
After breakfast, Bulma suddenly perked up and grabbed blue-haired Launch, who was about to head out to buy groceries.
"Miss Launch, you look very flexible. Your physical coordination must be excellent, right?"
Bulma smiled like a wolf tempting Little Red Riding Hood.
Launch was flattered.
"Ah? I think so… I used to climb a lot while doing housework."
"That's perfect! I've been developing a new 'dual-person gravity yoga.' It's especially suited for girls with great figures like yours."
Before Launch could respond, Bulma looped her arm through hers.
"To thank you for breakfast, we'll have Krillin guide us today. He's a martial arts master, you know!"
Krillin stood to the side, watching Bulma's terrible excuse with amusement, choosing not to expose it.
"Well, since my wife has spoken, I'll reluctantly act as your coach."