Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball,
Dragonball Z, or Dragonball GT. So don't sue.
Author's note: Um…okay, does anybody know Mr.
Satan's first name? I don't think he was given a first name in the series so I'm
just going to call him Peter for now because I really don't like Mr. Satan's dub
name Hercule. If he does have a first name, please tell me. Thanks.
~Chapter
1: A Beautiful Stranger~
Peter Satan has nothing.
He had lost most of his money at the casino
yesterday, drank the rest of it away at a bar this morning, and now he had just
exchanged his gold watch – the only piece of valuable he had left – for a
hamburger.
He had no home – all of his family had died a
couple of months earlier due to a tragic car crash. He had no friends either,
he was not a very likeable person and people tend to avoid him.
It was fall time but already the winds are
quite chilly. Peter was tired of walking around the streets so he slumped down
on a park bench and lay down. "Someday I'll be rich," he quietly promised
himself. "Someday I'll own a whole city! Yes… someday." But he didn't have a
clue as to how he was going to achieve that goal – he didn't care either. Only
the "rich" part interested him.
After a short pause, Peter jumped up from the
bench he was lying on. "I, Peter Satan will be rich!" he declared loudly, as if
saying the statement loud enough will make it comes true. "No more sleeping on
streets for this man, no way! You just watch! Someday, I'll be drinking water
out of a gold cup, eating dinner with silver tableware, and wearing diamond
rings on every finger."
A couple walked by him and flashed him a pity
look. "Oh honey, look at the poor homeless man!" the woman shook her head in
pity. "He has gone mad!"
"Don't worry dear," the man sling one of his
arms around the woman and pulled her towards him in a protective gesture. "He
won't hurt us."
"What did you say?" Peter glared at the
couple; they glanced at him in surprise and quickly scurried away. "I will be
rich!" he yelled at their backs. "I'll have a whole city!"
He pulled the collar of his old winter coat up
to his face and sat back down on the bench. The hard wind cut into his skin
like needles. "Shit," he cursed silently. "I need money, but how can I get
money?"
He knew that he could go and get a job as a
construction worker or even a store clerk if he wanted to – he was young,
strong, and had attended a few years of college. But he didn't like those jobs
because they pay too little.
"Damn," he started stomping on an empty coffee
cup that was lying beside his foot; taking out all his anger on it. "How can I
get rich? How? I want money! MONEY!" his voice started rising until it had reached
a scream.
Only a couple of squirrels took notice of his
presence. They quickly dropped the acorn they were carrying and ran away. Other
than that, there was silence. An empty park stared back at him. All the other
people had gone back to their warm little homes.
Just when thing couldn't possibly get any
worse, a policeman came by. "Excuse me, sir." He said to Peter. "But you have
to get out of this park in five minutes, there's going to be a big winter
parade here."
Peter grunted but what can he do? He knew
better than to oppose a police so he slowly stood up and walked towards the
exit unwillingly. 'Now what?' he wondered as he strolled around in the streets;
his legs are sore from walking so much and his stomach growled.
All of a sudden, a bar came in sight, Peter
eagerly walked towards the door and put his hand on the silver knob but
hesitated before going in. "Ah what the heck," he muttered to himself before
pushing open the door and stepping in. "If they kick me out then that's just
fine."
The bar was rundown and shabby looking, but it
felt good to be shield from the bitter wind. Peter sighed a breath of relief
and found a small corner to stand by. Now he prays that nobody had noticed him
for he had no money to buy any drinks.
"Hey you," a smooth, silky voice said.
Peter jumped in surprised. He whipped his head
around and found himself staring into the eyes of the most beautiful woman he
had ever laid his eyes on.
She has long, black hair tied up in a ponytail
and large almond eyes that are outlined by a thick layer of red eye shadow. Her
skin was creamy white and her little cherry lips curved up to form a tiny
smile. She was wearing a tiny little white tube top and a pair of black
skin-tight jeans that showed off her curves very, very well. A pair of black
hiking boots completed her outfit.
"Oh," Peter breathed. He couldn't help it; the
sight of her just seemed to take his breath away. 'Is this beautiful creature
talking to me? Or is it somebody behind me?' Peter wondered as he peered over his
shoulders to see if anyone is standing there.
"Yeah, I'm talking to you," she said, slowly
moving towards him and inching a finger up his arm. "Care for some company?"
"Sure," he replied, moving over a little to
make room for her. His heart was pumping furiously inside his chest.
"So…what's your name?" the woman asked. Now
her hand was sling casually on his shoulder. She was so close to him that Peter
could detect the odour of alcohol on her breath. 'No wonder,' he thought
bitterly. 'Nobody in their right mind would come near me.'
"Peter," he told her nevertheless. He might as
well take advantage of this situation. "And what's yours?"
"Me?" she pointed towards her chest
innocently. "What do I look like? You decided."
"Hmm," Peter bit his lips and surveyed the
woman's face carefully. She watched him amusingly and even winked at him at
some point, causing a light blush to appear on his cheeks. "You look like a
Lena."
"Then my name is Lena," the woman decided.
"Peter, how 'bout a dance?" she gestured towards the dance floor with her
thumb.
Peter hesitated – he wasn't a very good
dancer, in fact, he haven't danced at all since his mother made him dancing
lessons when he was eight. "Dancing will teach you to have good posture," he
recalled his mother saying to him when he protested loudly to the lessons.
Posture? Bullshit. All the lesson did was earn him a "sassy" title among the
boys.
She noticed his distress. "Relax," she purred
and grabbed his hands. She placed them directly on top of her butt. The blush
on Peter's cheeks grew deeper. Lena laughed. "Gosh, you are those uptight ones,
right?"
"No…of course not." He responded but his
voiced gave him away.
"It's alright," said Lena, she lifted his
hands and put them at her waist. "Better?"
He nodded and they started whirling to the
music. After a while, Peter began to relax. 'Hey, I'm actually getting the hang
of this!' he thought excitedly and a smile appeared on his face – the first one
for a whole month.
"So Peter, why is a handsome fellow like you doing
here and looking so blue?" Lena suddenly leaned over towards his shoulder and
whispered in his ear. Her warm breath tickled his ear.
"I want to be rich," he told her. He was
surprised at his bluntness but he feel like he can tell her everything. She was
the only friendly face he had seen since his family was killed. "I want to have
money and lots of it."
She laughed again. This time, it was a sad
laugh. "We all do Peter," she said quietly. "But do you have a plan to get
money? Like getting a job and starting a company or something like that?"
He shook his head. "Nope."
"Then my friend, you're not going to get
rich." She sighed and broke away from his grasp. She walked towards the bar and
hopped onto one of those tall wooden stools then beckoned for him to follow.
He did obediently.
"Two beers please," Lena called to the
bartender who quickly whipped out two glass mugs and fill them to the rim with
the foamy brown liquid.
Peter looked in alarm at the mug placed in
front of him. He didn't have a cent in his pockets and unless he decides to
sell his coat or another piece of clothing, he's not going to be able to pay
for the drink.
"Relax," Lena's voice said. "The drinks are on
me."
"Well…thank you then," Peter said as he lifted
the drink towards his lips and took a small sip.
Lena just stared at her drink and there was an
awkward silence between them. Finally, she spoke up again. "Do you know how to
fight, Pete?"
"Me?" he was surprised at her question. He was
actually quite a good fighter. Ever since the horrible dancing lessons, the
older boys seemed to like picking on him for their victim of the day. After a
broken nose and countless black eyes, he had learned to fight back. A couple of
times, he had even managed to give the older boys a black eye or two but of
course, this was a long time ago. "Kind of."
"You know, if you can fight, then you just
might strike it rich at the upcoming Tenkaichi Budoukai." Lena stated before
she threw some cash down beside her drink, stood up from her seat and exited
the bar.
"Wait!" Peter called after her but she didn't
seemed to hear him. 'Damn!' he cursed silently. He grabbed his beer and took a
long swing. 'Women are the same,' he thought angrily. 'All they want are money
so the minute she heard that I'm penniless, she leaves me."
But her beautiful face black into his mind and
her last words played back. "If you can fight, then you might just strike it
rich at the upcoming Tenkaichi Budoukai."
'Hey! Wait a minute! Tenkaichi Budoukai? What
the heck is that?'
~End
of Chapter 1~
Author's note: Like it or hate it…please review.
Thank you.