A few more days seemed to stretch on, and during this time, Vegeta had continued to acquire somewhat suitable clothing, thanks in no small part to the Bulma's efforts. He found himself grateful for her assistance.
Most of his days were consumed by rigorous training alongside the Namekian, who proved to be a surprisingly formidable sparring partner. Occasionally, he would bring Kakarot's spawn along, the boy who, despite his potential, lacked many of the defining qualities of a true Saiyan warrior but he knew, the boy could be great.
His power grew steadily, bolstered by the Zenkai boost and the fortunate presence of a partner who could heal in mere minutes, significantly contributing to his rapid growth.
During his periods of rest, he found himself interacting increasingly with the Brief family. To his surprise, Bulma's mother, actively pursued him for conversation, often initiating discussions about various topics under the sun.
She was indeed a fine woman, possessing a charm that was hard to ignore. Yet, much like her daughter she made it a regular practice to tease or flirt with him, playfully suggesting things like "Bulma's Boyfriend." He would look away at times, his eyes usually undressing her every time she seemed to bend over or turn her back to him. As that conversation unfolded, he noticed Bulma shooting her mother dagger-like glares from time to time, a silent warning that added a layer of tension to their exchanges.
Now Vegeta found himself amongst the clouds, lost in thought. As he gazed down at the world below, he couldn't help but notice how profoundly different he had become—his demeanor, his actions, and even the way he processed his thoughts had shifted. "It seems that I retained a good set of Vegeta's original qualities mixed with a few of my own, I don't know if that means one personality would be snuff the other or if it'll just mix."
He let out a deep sigh before he began his descent back toward the Briefs' home, the familiar landscape beckoning him, its comforts a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling within.
"Hey, Vegeta," Bulma called out, her voice cutting through the tranquil air as she watched him slowly descend to the ground. His face, a familiar mask of irritation, was set in its usual grumpy expression, betraying little of the inner turmoil he had just been contemplating.
"Dad's finished with his little project for you; come test it out," she urged him, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and pride.
He followed her with a nod, curiosity piqued as they approached a large circular pod that loomed impressively in the center of the room. The sleek surface gleamed under the ambient light, hinting at the advanced technology contained within.
As they stepped inside, Bulma animatedly went through the instructions, her hands gesturing enthusiastically as she explained the various features and how to use them effectively. After ensuring he understood everything, she gave him an encouraging smile before stepping back, leaving him alone with the intriguing device.
He meticulously adjusted the settings, cranking the weight up to a staggering 200 times the gravity of Earth. His body trembled slightly under the immense pressure, but with determination, he pushed the dial even further, setting it to an astonishing 350 times the planet's gravity. As he slammed into the ground, the force knocked the breath from him, but he quickly called upon his ki to reinforce his muscles, a slight smile breaking across his face as he relished the challenge.
"This will do," he muttered to himself, a surge of excitement coursing through him.
With renewed energy, he launched into a grueling routine that stretched on for hours—push-ups that felt like lifting mountains, sit-ups that strained his core, squats that tested his legs to their limits, and jogging around the chamber as if racing against time itself. He floated midair, testing his balance, executed handstands with grace, and shadow-boxed, each punch thrown with precision and power as he envisioned an invisible opponent. Each movement was a testament to his dedication, his body working tirelessly under the relentless weight.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he exited the Gravity Chamber, his body glistening with sweat from head to toe, each droplet a mark of his intense effort and commitment to pushing his limits.
Now was the time for rest, a much-needed reprieve to allow his body to heal from the brutal training that had pushed him to his limits. Each muscle ached, but he knew that recovery was just as crucial as the grueling workouts he had endured.
His battlepower now sat at a comfortable 4.3 million, a testament to the countless hours he had spent honing his skills and strengthening his physique.