the way everyone bowed to him, he could only be the boss of the village. He turned to the warrior who wore this basket ball around his neck. A brief exchange in incomprehensible Jungelian apparently satisfied the chief.He waved to a thin old man who stood between the chief and the three strangers. <br />
"You are welcome in our village," he said slowly and loudly. "What brought you to this area?" <br />
"We're looking for that there," said Kuwabara bluntly, pointing to the dragon ball. "Can you give us that?" <br />
Bulma grabbed her forehead and suppressed a groan. Couldn't he have approached it more diplomatically somehow. <br />
But to their amazement, the natives did not get angry. Rather, the leader grinned like a honey cake horse as soon as the words were translated. He replied and laughed out loud. <br />
"We are peaceful people," the translator explained to them, "our people like to act. We give big holy balls to strangers if they leave young girls with red-dotted skin."
Involuntarily, Bulma ran her hands over her forearms, where the prickly mosquitoes had ravaged the worst.<br />
"What do you want with her?", Asked Yamcha and looked around carefully. If they refused the offer, people would get angry and act quickly. "You must have much nicer women in the village." <br />
This answer didn't seem to amuse Bulma, but the village chief laughed and laughed, and those warriors who understood the translation were also having a great time. <br />
"We young girls turn into a beauty too. Vegetable sap makes her skin brown, we cut her hair and smear it with mud, then we feed her until she is soft. Then we give her to the chief's son." last words to a lean kid of maybe thirteen with a large gap in his upper jaw who was leaning against the wall of a hut and grinning stupidly at the area. <br />
Shuddering, Bulma pushed closer to her companion. Yamcha and Kuwabara communicated by looking, tensing their muscles and ... at that moment, the latest hit on the pop charts sounded in one of the huts.<br />
The chief, all the warriors and the translator looked at each other and began to swear wildly. The chief's son suddenly no longer had a crazy grin ready, but shot into the hut, visibly annoyed, only to come back with a small, plump, old woman who held her CD player tightly to her and scolded like a reed sparrow. <br />
The chief rubbed his forehead with a sigh and said with a sigh: "Grandmother, how often do we have to explain it to you. When we rehearse for the tourists, the equipment stays off, including your player."
Bulma, Yamcha and Kuwabara looked puzzled. "Take it easy for snail thinkers," said Kuwabara. "Those spears, the whole circus with Bulma against Dragonball, that was just a show?" <br />
"We were very convincing, weren't we?" Asked the fake chief's son and scratched the black rubber coating from his teeth. "Runno, can't even Seelwig or someone else take on the role of your son? I'm sick of this disgusting stuff!"<br />
"It was only our dress rehearsal", the chief patiently explained, "we will find a solution before the opening." <br />
"What opening?" Asked Bulma and shook her head when she was handed the radar again, wiped clean. "I thought the area here was a state reserve and should be preserved as naturally as possible." <br />
"This is yesterday's cold coffee," waved the old man who had played the translator. "We have made an agreement with the government, they allow us soft tourism and in return we keep the building stock of this village in its old form and maintain our traditions and teach our young people the dances, the handicrafts, etc. during their school holidays ... Unfortunately, there is no we still have the money for some necessary purchases at the moment, but ... "his gaze wandered up to the Dragon Ball," maybe we can come to an agreement. "<br />
A few tough rounds of negotiations later, Yamcha was able to pull the dragon ball out of the totem pole without any major problems.At the same time, Bulma handed the village chief a check for a large sum. <br />
They were invited to attend the evening dance and taste the traditional stew. Bulma managed to evade it and the village chief gave them a guide who led them out of the jungle by the shortest possible route. A little exhausted, but she finally found herself relieved on the edge of the wall. <br />
"At least we have the second ball," sighed Bulma happily. <br />
"Not only that, but also three clay jugs, four woven baskets, three nose rings made of carved bone, two stone blades and six snake skin belts," said Kuwabara, carefully setting down his load. <br />
"There are also three animal figures made of clay, two sets of headdresses made of feathers and glass beads, two loincloths made of leather, four spearheads made of copper and six copper ankle bracelets," added Yamcha and placed the hand-woven bag with the imprint "Welcome to the jungle village" next to the baskets in the grass.<br />
"Why are you complaining?" Asked Bulma with a shrug. "After all, they were all bargains on special offers. I'll fly home quickly so we can distribute the souvenirs and then," she scratched her arms, "I need a hot bath and an ointment against mosquito bites. You two can sleep in the guest rooms , tomorrow we'll look for number three. "<br />
Meanwhile, in the other reality, Koenma paced nervously up and down his desk. <br />
"Koenma-sama," said his closest confidante, wringing his hands, "don't you see that the forms are already piled up to the ceiling? Please stamp at least ten thousand of them ..." <br />
"Fool", Koenma snapped and adjusted his high hat, "I'm working. Or do you want to think about the next steps for the campaign against this prince in my place?" <br />
"But Koenma-sama", the blue demon scratched his horns, "you decided a while ago not to call up an army, but to trust Yusuke and his friends ..." <br />"Yes, but," Koenma looked up at the screens. One showed the fortress of demons and the gigantic army that was gathering there. Another showed a piece of Hell's frontier and a third showed the exit of the tunnel through which Genkai Yusuke's troops had sent. The others were all black. They had been aimed at the worst hit areas, but the obliteration had caught them and destroyed them too. <br />
The door was thrown open and a red demon stumbled in, "Konema-sama, a gigantic stream of refugees is approaching the palace. There must be three thousand. What should we do?" <br />
Koenma jumped off the table, assumed his teenage form, and straightened. "Don't worry, we won't turn anyone away, nor will the palace be bursting at the seams. I expected something like that." With his cloak blowing, he strutted through the mountains of files to the door. There he turned around and threw the blue demon the Comment on, "start sorting the files by urgency and date.Now I'm doing the real work ... "<br />
And he was gone. <br />
..... <br />
<br />
"How long will it be before we're through the damn tunnel", Vegeta growled and cast suspicious looks into the bluish glowing fog. Given how deep they were already inside the mountain, it was more than astonishing that they didn't have to trudge into the dark. The fog itself had increasingly become a source of light. There were also glowing quartz veins that crisscrossed the walls carved out of the rock in shimmering waves. <br />
Hiei, who followed Vegeta on his heels, spat contemptuously on the ground. "Are you scared of doing it?" He mocked. The fire demon had recovered amazingly quickly from the eerie experience. Through the encounter with his deepest fear he had evidently grown; the others felt this through the even, powerful aura that surrounded him. <br />
Vegeta was in a bind. On the one hand, he envied this loudmouthed swordsman's progress and would love to outdo it.On the other hand, he was anything but comfortable with the thought that the whole troop would get to know his weak point. Not that he doubted that he would be able to remove his fears with the snap of his fingers ... <br />
"Maybe we should step up a gear," said Yusuke and paced more quickly, so that he was soon a few steps ahead of the others. <br />
"Not so quickly, Yusuke", Kurama called to him, "otherwise we will lose sight of each other!" <br />
At that very moment the dark-haired fighter suddenly stopped. <br />
“Yusuke ?!” Kurama approached his friend and wanted to ask him the reason for the sudden stop. But the words got stuck in his throat. In front of Yusuke, only ten meters away, the figure of one of the four powerful demon rulers peeled out of the mist. The almost white hair shone like the quartz on the walls and in his eyes glowed ancient cruelty and greed. He didn't look away from Yusuke, whose lips quivered with the word "Father!" formed.<br />
"Who's that guy?" Piccolo asked Hiei. <br />
To be on the safe side, the fire demon had drawn his weapon and only looked briefly at the Namek from the side. Kurama undertook to provide the necessary explanations. <br />
"This is the demon ruler Raishin, Yusuke's ancestor, many generations in the past. He is also the reason for Yusuke's superhuman powers, without which he would never have survived all our adventures unharmed. These demonic genes become active at certain intervals. Yusuke is already twice died and after his second death the demonic legacy broke through. When he answered the call of the demon world, the two met and Yusuke called him father. He died shortly afterwards. "<br />
"He doesn't look that dead," Piccolo muttered. What did this apparition want from Yusuke. <br />
"Do you still resist your true nature, son?"The voice of the demon lord Raishin was hardly more than a breath, but none of his words escaped. <br />
Yusuke was clearly struggling, then his form straightened and his aura flared up. Within seconds his hair grew into a thick, long mane, a dangerous sheen appeared in his