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Yamcha RPG

An average guy, with an average life, dies while playing an RPG game. Then he opens his eyes again, in a show he had grown up with. Exciting, right? Well, he wasn’t a Saiyan, he was Yamcha, the punching bag of punching bags. But what are these screens above everyone’s heads, showing levels? Follow his journey as he tries to maneuver himself around the dangerous world of Dragon Ball. With the Gamer Interface by his side.

BucketOfShirts · Tranh châm biếm
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68 Chs

Chapter 28 - After Tournament Feast

Confidence in Yamcha winning, despair at finding out the best assassin in the world was participating, and then jubilation at Yamcha coming out victorious. Today was a rollercoaster of emotions for Carrot.

"Here is your money, sir," the cashier handed him sacks of money, and Carrot's hands shook as he put it all in a capsule. His money had to be flown in; that's how much he had won.

He saw Nam, the guy almost crippled by Tao, ride off in a small commercial plane. Thankfully Carrot would never have to experience the hour-long lines and waiting time again.

He was strangely anxious about that as he walked to a restaurant nearby, where the rest of the crew was. He kept touching his pocket to ensure the capsule was there the whole way to the restaurant.

He went and sat down in one of the chairs.

Carrot was a rich man. Everyone almost got blown up, but you must look at the positive things in life, like how rich he is.

Money doesn't buy happiness; that's what rich people say. Yeah, money doesn't buy you happiness, but just let me keep all the money. After all, it doesn't buy you happiness. What in the world would you need money for?

As a newly made rich man, Carrot felt a sense of superiority as they sat at the table, he was the only self-made man there.

The multiple-personality girl, pervy old man, monkey kid, bald kid, Bulma, Tights, talking pig, talking cat, and Yamcha. Carrot looked at the latter, his lucky star, the new champion of fighting, the strongest under the heavens.

What would Yamcha say if he knew he had all this money? Probably something along the lines of 'Oh, seems like that's weighing you down. Let me help carry it for you.'

Or maybe just: 'Give my money bitch, where's my motherfucking money?' Then that will be accompanied by a backhanded slap. Yamcha did have that violent pimp temper.

"Where were you?" Asked Bulma, the ever-jealous girlfriend? What even is their relationship? Carrot never bothered finding out.

"I just went and took care of my friend, Nam. He sadly couldn't stay for the feast as he wanted to bring the water to his people as fast as possible," Yamcha said without missing a beat.

'Didn't I see that guy getting on a small plane when I went to take the money? How did Yamcha get here so fast, then? That was before he… Oh well, I'm not going to read into this too much. I'm just the dumb rabbit from the sidelines, no reason to overthink things.'

Though he decided not to think about it anymore, Carrot was sure someone would report Tao's corpse tomorrow. Yamcha seemed like the competent guy to make it seem like an accident or someone took revenge in a way that doesn't connect to him.

Carrot got chills just at the thought of it, and suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. He flinched and turned to look at who it was. He felt like shitting himself after seeing who it was.

Yamcha had a smile on his face. "Glad to see you're hanging in there. You alright?"

"Y -Yeah… What about you?"

"I'm doing well. Thanks for looking after the others," Yamcha waved and he went to take a breather out on the balcony.

It seemed like Bulma had gotten a little too drunk and was more clingy than usual. She was slumped over the table with a flushed face and an empty beer glass in her hand while mumbling. "Yamcha, not there~"

Okay, Carrot decided to ignore that too.

He was curious why Yamcha wasn't with Bulma yet? She was rich, clearly in love, and a pretty cute girl.

Just as he thought, Carrot noticed Tights go after Yamcha, and both were alone on the balcony.

Oh, so that's what was happening. It was a switch situation, where Tights and Yamcha had a relationship. Bulma was just there and had a crush on her sister's secret lover.

Everything connected so well, and the reason why Yamcha rejected Bulma was deeper than just some surface-level reasoning. Carrot nodded and decided never to even think about this any longer.

He was a dumb rich rabbit, much better than a smart dead rabbit, probably killed by Yamcha's hands if he spilled this secret. Though Carrot had to admit, this was a very interesting drama, he wanted to follow where it would lead. But between entertainment and life, he would choose the latter.

'Well, better play along with my role as the dumb rich friend. Gotta create a cover and bring attention away from Yamcha and Tights, who are probably snogging each other by now.'

"Everyone! Eat however much you want! It's all on me!" Carrot announced.

"Yeah!" The kid with the monkey tail… or without the tail now, jumped up joyfully and started eating food like a vacuum.

"Goku, slow down, or you're going to choke," the kid's younger bald friend warned him.

Carrot made a note in his mind never to take the kid named Goku out for dinner. Because if he did this every night, he would be broke and penniless within less than a year.

"What made the mobster so generous?" the talking pig whispered to the little monk kid.

'Shut the fuck up you talking animal! Don't read too much into things!' Though he wanted to go and punch the pig, Carrot held it in. Usually, he had a hard time calming down, but just thinking about all that money…

He never needed to worry about housing, bills, food, or gas. Yeah, that was very soothing.

***

Yamcha stood on the restaurant's balcony and looked at the buildings around the sparsely populated island. Despite being where the World Martial Arts are held to decide the strongest, there were barely any big buildings around.

Though if things went well as they did in the original timeline, there was no doubt in Yamcha's mind that the World Martial Arts tournament would become a hit.

Opening his inventory, Yamcha stared at a specific slot. There were no other things in the slots surrounding this one. It was the place where Tao's corpse lay.

He had made sure not to pierce through Tao's chest, so there were no blood or scorch marks on the sheets. To others, the world's best assassin just disappeared.

'You miserable bastard. Should have known that being needlessly cruel will lead to death.'

Though the assassin was his enemy, Yamcha had learned much from the man. It was a bit of an awakening for Yamcha, like a bucket of ice-cold water was poured over his head.

Opening his status page, Yamcha checked the rewards he had gotten from the Quest to win the tournament. He had earned some experience and a new title.

[Champion]

[Increases strength stat growth. This title is lost if you don't participate in the World Martial Arts Tournament every three years and win.]

Yamcha guessed that the strength growth must be substantial if the requirements to keep the title were troublesome. He was going to test it later.

With the Quest completed and killing Tao, his level had gone up eight times, and he was now level 46. Though for some reason, the Hero Quest wasn't completed.

'What do I have to do to complete it?' Yamcha wondered, after saving those people from the explosion the quest should have been completed. Or maybe the interface read it as Yamcha being the cause of that bomb threat? That was a little disheartening.

Looking at the dark sky with the full moon, Yamcha smiled and glanced inside. Bulma was still napping on the table. Did she think drinking so much would impress him or make her more likable? What a silly girl. But he couldn't help smiling fondly when looking at her.

Before Bulma's laser had shot down, Yamcha had contemplated taking Senzu Beans. But taking them out of his inventory, and the inventory screen appearing in front of his face was very dangerous against an opponent like Tao, he could have killed him.

'I wonder how much of the fight the contestants saw? We were moving quite fast.'

Yamcha shook his head and dismissed such thoughts as it was useless to think about what could have been. Instead, he looked toward his blue-haired savior.

He knew soon he would have to fix things with Bulma. Otherwise, this tugging war will end badly for one, or maybe even both. Yamcha's beliefs on romance in his previous life were to find an average-looking wife, have some kids, and then die. That was where he predicted things would have ended. A boring life but hopefully happy life.

In this world, he wasn't too concerned with romance. He didn't want to waste time on it. He wasn't going to chase women or try to woo them. There were many better things to do during that time than that. Bulma also fell in that same category; they would talk, and if she accepted, that was it. If not, then he won't bother with her anymore.

Yamcha was quite sure she liked him, but at that age, she might be more excited about the chase than anything else. Well, it didn't matter what her answer was. If he had been younger, such thoughts would have haunted him. Was it worth ruining their friendship? The answer came to him easily.

He looked at the sky and smiled. Even though the life of his friends was threatened just some hours ago, this was still a beautiful world. Of those countless stars out there, he could go and explore each of them. Yamcha took a glass of wine from his inventory and toasted to the sky.

'I will need some method not to age if I want even a chance at exploring this vast world—a technique to breathe in space. Wait, Gamer's Body, my body is like a game character. Do I even need to breathe?'

Yamcha took a sip of the wine, and his eyes twitched. 'What kind of wine is this? It has an oaky vanilla flavor, and it's rich in alcohol. I don't like it.'

He was never much of a drinker, even in his last life. Someone approached him from behind, and by the sound of her steps, Yamcha could guess who it was.

"Aren't you going to take advantage of my sweet sister now that she is drunk?" Tights asked suddenly. There were some thorns in her tone, and Yamcha was pretty sure she wanted him to get annoyed and cause a scene.

He turned around, sneakily putting his glass of wine in his inventory. "Do I look like that kind of guy?"

"Are you?" She answered his question with a question. "You might be able to trick most with your non-answers, but I am different."

"I can see that."

"Wow, your skills at dodging questions are amazing," Tights' eyes widened in mock surprise.

He chuckled and shook his head. "I always was a talented liar."

Tights smiled a little, took out a packet of cigarettes, put one in her mouth, and offered another to Yamcha.

He shook his head. "Not a smoker."

They spent a dozen seconds in silence looking at the party as Tights lit her cigarette.

"I thought you would yell and scream at me," Yamcha stated honestly.

"Why would I do that?" Tights seemed genuinely confused at the accusation.

"You know, having the assassin threaten to blow up everyone, you and your sister included," he clarified. It was his fault Tao went that far. There was very little he could have done about it, but a mistake was still a mistake. At least, that's the way he saw it.

Her eyes softened a little when she heard that, but she breathed out a puff of cigarette smoke.

"So I should start blaming you for every fucked up asshole out there?" She huffed and took another puff from her cigarette. "Step down from your high horse. The world doesn't revolve around you."

He stared at her owlishly. For the first time in a while, Yamcha chuckled. He tried to cover it with his hand, but it slipped through.

'Right, what's the use of feeling guilty about something like this? Tao was the one threatening to blow people up, not me.' Yamcha reasoned. He then took Tights' half-finished cigarette right out of her mouth. "These are killers and bad for you. Get a better stress reliever, like reading, for example. You're a writer, right? Try reading other people's work sometimes."

Tights frowned in frustration and just looked at him with a face that said: You're now telling me how to live my own life?

She went to take out her cigarette package, but it wasn't there. Tights frowned and looked at Yamcha, walking away. On his other hand were her cigarettes and lighter. "As I said, smoking is bad for your health."

"You dick, at least leave my lighter behind," she muttered, frustrated. Yamcha still heard her before going back to the feast.

He opened his Status Page and took a look at his saved-up stats.

'I should run some tests and use them soon. Because they won't be useful in increasing my strength in battle when power levels start climbing to the thousands.'

**********

A/N: For this week I will post daily chapters, and for every 100 Power Stones you will get +1 extra chapter.

A/N: If anyone is curious how much Carrot won, it was 336,000,000 Zenni, and he put 8 million (all the money he had) as an initial bet. That’s around ~2,300,000$ but when considering the inflation since Dragon Ball manga was created, he won around ~4,000,000$.

P.S: This is extra chapter.

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