POV - Jamall
Carrying Tien over my shoulder, I could feel a new kind of energy in every step. It wasn't just physical strength; it was clarity, a calm I hadn't felt since waking up in this world. I glanced down, still in disbelief. I looked human again—thankfully, with pants this time. The first month here, I'd been in control of Cell's body. Now, seeing my reflection, I had to admit: this was going to make getting a girlfriend a lot easier.
Ahead, Piccolo moved steadily with Krillin slung across his back, his usual stoic mask softened with exhaustion. Goku was close by, supporting Yamcha—no, Yamatr—I mean, Yamcha. Finally, we reached the Lookout, the tension loosening as Dende rushed forward, hands glowing. I laid Tien down, watching Dende's energy wash over his wounds.
From the edge of the platform, I caught Vegeta's glare, his expression torn between disdain and curiosity. Trunks, beside him, looked on with a softer, more accepting gaze. And then, there was Bulma.
POV - Vegeta
Watching them lay down the injured fighters, I couldn't help but glare at Jamall, fists clenched. It wasn't just that he'd somehow transformed into a human-looking version of himself—it was that he'd already taken down the Androids, the ones I'd trained to face. My fight. And now he acted as if he belonged here.
"Typical," I muttered, arms crossed, not bothering to hide my disdain. This guy shows up out of nowhere, takes my battle, and then expects us all to welcome him with open arms. I caught Trunks glancing at Jamall, respect and surprise clear in his eyes. That stung even more.
"Dad, how could he be that strong?" Trunks asked, barely hiding his amazement. "He's… stronger than anyone I've ever seen."
I scoffed. "Don't be impressed. He has power, but he doesn't even have the Super Saiyan form. He's nowhere near reaching his full potential."
Deep down, though, I could feel the irritation simmering. Jamall was powerful—maybe even a real contender. And if I was going to keep my edge, I'd have to push myself twice as hard.
POV - Bulma
As I walked up to Jamall, I couldn't believe how human he looked. The sharp edges and alien features were gone. Now he was just… a man. And a handsome one, too, I realized, noticing the calm he seemed to bring with him. His features—the strong jawline, the sharp eyes—he looked… well, he looked like family. And judging by Chi-Chi's lingering stare, I wasn't the only one who'd noticed the change.
I gestured for him to follow me toward the inner chambers. "Come on. Let's get you some real clothes."
He smiled. "Thanks, Mom."
There was an ease to him now, as though he was finally comfortable in his own skin. I grabbed what I could from the wardrobe, handing him clothes that would make any male model jealous. When he came out, fully dressed, the transformation was complete. Gone was the bio-engineered warrior the other me had created. He looked more like one of my sons.
"Wow," Chi-Chi murmured beside me. "He really does look… different."
"Handsome, too," I mumbled, catching myself a second too late.
POV - Jamall
Bulma's jacket fit perfectly, as did the rest of the clothes she handed me—a dark green Capsule Corp jacket over a black turtleneck, black jeans, and green and black Nikes. I felt… grounded, like I'd finally come home. It was a little strange calling Bulma my mom, but comforting too, like finding a new piece of myself I hadn't known I was missing. And everyone's reactions didn't go unnoticed—the glances, the faint smiles, the fact that they weren't looking at me like I was some bio-weapon.
Turning to Dende, I felt the energy within me. "Can you check my power level?" I asked, partly out of curiosity, partly to understand what I was dealing with after splitting from Ultimate Cell.
Dende's eyes widened as he placed his hand on my shoulder, his fingers trembling as he closed his eyes to sense my power. Shock crossed his face as he withdrew, eyes darting between me and the others.
"Wait… hold on," Dende said, frowning. "I need to double-check. That can't be right."
The room fell silent. Even Vegeta raised an eyebrow, folding his arms but watching intently.
Dende took a deep breath, focusing as he tapped into my ki once more. Finally, he looked at me, his expression a mix of awe and disbelief. "It's still… 500 million. I had to be sure, but there's no mistake. That's your power level."
For a moment, the tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Even after splitting from Ultimate Cell, I'd retained half of our strength.
"Five hundred million…" Gohan whispered, eyes wide. "That's… incredible."
Piccolo's usual stoicism softened, a faint smile touching his lips. "Impressive. And without the influence of Ultimate Cell weighing you down, I think we're just scratching the surface of what you're capable of."
Goku's face lit up with excitement. "Yeah! With some training, you might even surpass your old power level! Who knows how far you could go?"
But as everyone's shock settled, I kept my cool, nodding with a slight smile. "I know it's a lot, but I'm ready to start from here. Five hundred million is a solid beginning."
My response seemed to ease the tension, and the others relaxed, reassured by my grounded attitude. But Vegeta merely scoffed, crossing his arms and looking away.
"Don't get too comfortable with that number," he muttered. "There's always room to improve."
I gave him a calm nod, though I couldn't help but feel a twinge of irritation. I'd always hated how cocky he acted, even as he got sidelined in nearly every saga. But I was cleansed. I was reborn. And with a newfound sense of purpose, I realized something.
"I need a sword."
Piccolo raised an eyebrow. "A sword?"
I nodded, feeling excitement building. "Yeah. If I'm going to face Ultimate Cell again, I want to do it with my own style. And that includes learning some serious swordsmanship." I'd already planned a few techniques that would only work if I mastered the blade.
Goku's voice chimed in, grinning. "That's awesome! I know just the guys who can help you get started!"
"Bet he's thinking of Yajirobe," Piccolo muttered under his breath.
I felt a rush at the idea. This wasn't just about fighting; it was about building my own strength, my own way. Plus, swords are just… cool.
POV - Trunks
I stepped up. "If you're serious about sword training, I could help. I know a thing or two about using one."
Jamall cringed a bit but nodded. "I'd like that. Thanks, Trunks."
Vegeta scoffed from the sidelines. "Training with a sword? What are you, some kind of samurai? You think flashy sword moves are going to help you against Ultimate Cell?"
But I saw the faintest hint of a smile on Jamall's face, completely unbothered. "Maybe, Vegeta. Or maybe it's about learning something different. I don't want to just be strong—I want to be ready."