Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own the 'Dragon Ball Z' anime/manga or 'Fallout New Vegas' along with the other games in the saga, and the only thing I own is this alternate/parallel story that I wrote for fun.

The Misadventures of Broly

Chapter 3: Psychological Tests

"Talking"

"Thinking"

"KameHameHa!" Attacks / Skills / Ki / Technique

Reading / News / Intercoms

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Broly frowned somewhat offended by the way this useless machine ranked his intelligence and whatever this 'charisma' was ... For a moment he was tempted to kick it and send it flying into the sky into complete oblivion, but he had to forcibly control himself from committing a scene in front of this human who had helped him from bleeding to death.

"That's ... Strange, it's the first time the meter doesn't measure endurance and ironically strength," Dr. Mitchell admitted with his arms crossed; and at the same time, he gave them a little glance at his patient's muscles

...

..

.

Why did he perhaps overstretch the poor machine? Whatever it was, he would find out later if he had time left.

"But, the other values are normal ..." said the old man with a thoughtful expression, as he was still trying to figure out what could be the problem with the force gauge.

The man with tousled black spiky hair nodded his head slightly at the old man's words, and for a moment he wondered:

Had his rival purposely held back from killing him? ... Or was it just pure luck on his part?

Be that as it may, he would find out sooner or later when they would meet again for a rematch.

"Although after what happened to you, it's a miracle you're alive and walking," Dr. Mitchell opined sincerely, while at the same time giving a small glance at the wound on his patient's abdomen, where he nodded admiringly at the good job he had done.

The charcoal dark-eyed man again had to agree with the older man, as the consequence of the punch a certain person had given him could have indirectly killed him by the large loss of blood.

"Well, what really matters is that your vitals are fine," Dr. Mitchell assured him with a calm expression. "Now follow me. You're going to answer a couple of questions," he said with a neutral tone; and then he started walking to another room in his house.

Broly silently (as he had been most of the time), but attentively followed the old man to another spacious room (Dining Room), where the latter was most likely receiving consultations from his patients.

"Have a seat," Dr. Mitchell offered graciously; and at the same time gestured toward the divan facing his old, but comfortable red armchair.

The man with tousled black spiky hair gave the worn and old white square chair a brief glance, but without giving those flaws a second thought, he carefully sat down in it.

"Very well. Let's get started, I'll tell you a word and you tell me the first thing that comes to mind," Dr. Mitchell explained this simple little psychological exercise.

The man with eyes as dark as coal nodded his head without objecting; for the moment and playing along with this old man.

"Dog." Dr. Mitchell said the first name of the exercise.

The man with tousled black spiky hair tilted his head somewhat thoughtfully, as he was sure he had heard that word somewhere ... But there were things that were still fuzzy in his mind; until suddenly something clicked in his head.

"Food." Broly replied with a shrug, though he was undoubtedly sure of his words.

The old man raised an eyebrow at his patient's response, but it only lasted a second; and instead, he continued with the psychological test.

"Home." Dr. Mitchell said the second name of the exercise.

The charcoal dark eyed man had a reaction practically instantly, as he clenched his fists hard enough to crush steel or any other metal with no problem; as if they were a mere twig.

"Destroy." Broly replied through gritted teeth, trying to hold back a growl of anger; as he remembered that disgusting place called 'home' where he lived with his father.

The old man raised both eyebrows at his patient's response, but again it only lasted a second because he had to distract his patient from taking his anger out on him.

"Night." Dr. Mitchell said the third name of the exercise.

The man with tousled black spiky hair let go of his rising anger as he heard another word from the old man.

"Sleep." Broly replied with a calmer attitude than before, but that didn't mean he would take his stress out on something or someone later.

The old man nodded his head at his patient's first normal response.

"Bandit." Dr. Mitchell said the fourth name of the exercise.

It didn't take the dark-eyed man as dark as coal long to say something with that word, because he even had a sort of visual image in his mind.

"Vaporize." Broly replied with a disturbing smile on his lips, as he had related that word to his father, Prince Vegeta, etc.

The old man blinked several times at his patient's answer ... But it only lasted a moment because he shook his head at the answer of his patient, while he continued with the test and see the results of this later.

"Lightweight." Dr. Mitchell said the fifth name of the exercise.

The tousled spiky haired man tilted his head slightly to the side making him look somewhat tender.

"Heavy?" replied Broly with a confused expression as he was unsure of his own answer.

The old man again nodded his head at another normal response from his patient.

"Mother." said Dr. Mitchell the name of the sixth exercise, but in this one he decided to pay special attention to his patient's reaction.

The man with eyes as dark as coal froze in place; hearing that word so special to him, and with a meaning too great to explain in simple words.

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"... Caretaker." Broly answered almost in a whisper, but even he wasn't sure of his answer due to the fact that he didn't know his mother because she surely died in the explosion of Planet Vegeta at the hands of Freezer.

The old man again nodded his head at his patient's answer, but this time with the difference that he had become thoughtful because he was more or less understanding the latter's mind.

"Well. I already have a few sentences, you have to answer whether you 'agree', 'disagree' or 'have no opinion' ... Understood?" asked Dr. Mitchell with a professional tone, while at the same time observing Broly who still seemed affected by the previous word.

The man with tousled black spiky hair slowly nodded his head in affirmation.

"First things first: I am not of a confrontational nature." Said Dr. Mitchell the first sentence of the exercise.

"... No opinion." Broly replied with a strange tone of voice, while at the same time averting his gaze away from the old man.

The old man was somewhat concerned about the answers that this the moment was giving his patient because it is possible that this before a psychopath .... Or something similar, but anyway he had to continue with the psychological test; and not look too suspicious.

"I don't usually ask others for help." Said Dr. Mitchell the second sentence of the exercise.

The man with eyes as dark as coal tilted his head again staying a couple of seconds in thought.

"Okay." Broly replied with folded arms, as he had never even asked his father for anything in his life.

The older man nodded his head slightly for at least an answer.

"I always go out of my way to be the center of attention." Said Dr. Mitchell the third sentence of the exercise.

The man with tousled black spiky hair was again thoughtful at the old man's sentence.

"No opinion." Broly replied with a bored expression.

The old man frowned slightly, but letting out a sigh went on with his own.

"I have a hard time accepting new ideas." Said Dr. Mitchell the fourth sentence of the exercise.

The man with dark eyes like coal this time instead of answering something decided to just shrug his shoulders because he didn't care about that sentence the old man said.

Whereas, the old man just shook his head at his vague answers.

"I deal with problems directly." Said Dr. Mitchell the fifth sentence of the exercise.

The man with tousled black spiky hair stood thoughtfully for a couple of seconds that sentence, and related it to his rivals.

"Okay." Broly replied with a strange smile on his lips.

The old man nodded his head, while at the same time noting down his patient's answers; and his own observations to analyze later.

"We're almost done here ... What do you think if you look at this? Tell me you see it," Dr. Mitchell pointed to a projector behind him.

The dark-eyed charcoal man centered his gaze on the painting or drawing behind the old man.

"A ... Wounded?" replied Broly with a confused expression, as he wasn't quite sure.

The old man nodded his head at his patient's answer.

"Okay, what about this one?" asked Dr. Mitchell; and at the same time, he pressed a button on the remote control in his left hand.

The man with tousled black spiky hair again centered his gaze on the painting or drawing, but this time he could not recognize what his eyes were seeing.

"I don't know..." said Broly with a frown because it was undoubtedly the weirdest drawing he had ever seen in his life.

The old man tried to hide a sign of interest at his patient's lack of response ... Or maybe he was just dodging in giving an answer.

"Last one." Dr. Mitchell pressed the button on the remote control again, scrolling to another image.

The charcoal-dark-eyed man again focused his gaze on the last painting or drawing.

"An old man with a beard," Broly replied dryly, as these exercises were boring him to death.

The old man had to restrain himself from letting out a laugh, as he certainly found that answer from his patient very funny and somewhat innocent.

"Well, I guess that's it. It will take a while to give you the results," Dr. Mitchell said with his gaze on the papers in his hands; where he glanced over his patient's answers, and some were certainly somewhat puzzling.

Broly nodded his head, but at the same time began to look around again looking for something to catch his attention and take away his growing boredom ... Unfortunately, he found nothing interesting.

"Before I discharge you permanently, I need to ask you one last favor," Dr. Mitchell said loud enough to get the attention of his young patient; who stopped looking out a window facing the desert.

The man with tousled black spiky hair stared at him with an imaginary question mark above his head.

"I want you to fill out a form. It will help me keep track of your medical history," Dr. Mitchell explained in a serious tone; while at the same time adjusting his reading glasses. "Don't worry, it's just a formality. I don't expect to discover any special history in your family or anything like that," he said with a reassuring smile as he noticed the unfriendly look his patient was giving him.

The man with dark eyes like coal thought about the old man's words for a while, and seeing that there was nothing wrong decided to agree to do this 'form'.

"It's okay," Broly accepted with a shrug of his shoulders without attaching so much importance to a paper; while at the same time receiving between his hands said papers which he glanced at with a confused expression. "I don't understand it," he admitted as he looked up from the form due to the fact that before his eyes it appeared to be ... An unknown language.

The doctor stared at it with a slightly surprised expression; which quickly changed to one of understanding.

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End of Chapter Three

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The chapter has 2000 words.

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Uploaded: 10/07/22

Updated (Corrected): ?/?/?

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