Chapter One: A Call for Work

The stench of sweat and urine hung in the air. Vegeta shifted under the warm and cozy covers of his bed-sheets, his ebony spikes pressing against the hard wooden bedframe. He was completely hopeless. Out of money and now out of a job, too. What was he going to do with his life? He was worse than hopeless. He was utterly pathetic.

He sighed, slumping into the mattress below him and pulling the single sheet up to his chin so that none of the sweet warmth could escape him. He removed his sticky hands from his pants and sighed. It was the small pleasures in life that kept him going sometimes.

His apartment was a mess. It was even more miserable than he was. Mud was splashed over the already-stained carpets from his unwashed hiking boots and there was a thin layer of potato chips on the single two-foot high coffee table. It was the only one in the entire apartment.

The room was basically a middle-sized space that served as a kitchen, living room and bedroom all in one. There was a small closet-like area that held a toilet and two-foot high sink that always overflowed. Plus, the toilet didn't flush, giving the room a perfectly good reason to stink like urine. And there was no door separating the bathroom from the rest of the living quarters. The bathroom was more like a closet than a bathroom anyway. It didn't matter. Vegeta couldn't afford plumbing. He couldn't even afford dinner for a week. He was out of money. He hadn't been hired for a job in what seemed like an eternity. He needed to get out of his slump sooner or later, or he was going to rot like the walls behind his refrigerator.

Vegeta rolled over to face his clock. It was blank. Right. He didn't pay the electric bill last month. How could he forget? He had to use the remainder of his money to pay for much-needed food.

And then a piercing sound erupted through Vegeta's ears. He loudly groaned and pulled the sheets higher up so that they covered his entire head. How did he get like this? He was the best of the best. He was widely known for the things he could accomplish. Why was he living in such a filthy place? This was repulsive for someone of his talents. He guessed it could be because of his high prices for work. When it came to the business he did, he expected to be rewarded handsomely for his efforts. Not many people could do what he did. And no one could do it as quickly and efficiently as he could. High prices were a small price to pay for his type of work.

There was the piercing noise again. Vegeta moaned and sat up, the sheets falling off his bare chest and exposing him to the cool breeze coming in through his shattered window. It had only come with a screen because the glass had come broken, and the room's previous guest had looked to have tried to rip the entire window out of the wall. The torn paint proved as much.

Realizing that it was his cell phone ringing, his ears perked up. Could it really be? No one ever called his cell phone unless it was for an assignment! He only paid the damn thing every month for the sole purpose of hoping that someone would call him for work.

Vegeta jumped out of bed and raced to a pile of papers and potato chips scattered over the ground beneath the coffee table. He dropped to his knees and, as another ring came, he pushed the papers and other obstacles aside until he had dug his way to his gray phone.

He instantly opened it and put it to his ear without checking the ID of his caller. It didn't matter. At this point, he would work for whoever asked him to.

"Hello?" he asked expectantly, sitting back and feeling a potato chip crunch under his muscled weight.

"Hello. Yes, uhm… Is this Vegeta Ouji?" It was the voice of an older man. Vegeta pictured him with a head of white hair and sagging skin on his arms and face. He could almost visualize the old man's bags under his eyes and the extra pair of chins attached to his neck and face.

"It is." Vegeta couldn't wait. This was definitely a call for work. No longer would he be staying in this dump. He was going to get himself out of here! He was going to use his reward for this assignment to buy himself a house. A real house. Nothing like this run-down shit-hole that he was currently forced to live in. He was going to treat himself like fucking royalty when this was over with.

"Yes, uhm… We have a job for you. Your sponsor is a man named Frieza and he hears that you are in a class of your own in this line of work. Is that correct?" The man seemed uncertain of Vegeta's abilities as he spoke. It seemed as if he didn't believe such things. As if it was nonsense to him. Vegeta could only picture what he would have done to the man had he been standing face-to-face with him. He'd show him just how capable he really was.

"I am. But what's that to you? What is this job? And why is this Frieza guy not calling me himself? Why do I have to speak with a low-life such as yourself?"

"Master Frieza is much too busy to be making phone calls at this time of day. He has many things to do and very little time before he begins his plan."

"And what is this plan of his?"

"I am not at liberty to disclose that information, Mr. Ouji. But if you'd just answer my question, then we could get on with more important matters."

"Yes, I'm ready and willing to work for this man, Frieza. But I'll have you know that I'm an expensive man to cover in such situations as these. I expect to be rewarded generously for my work."

"Money isn't an issue, Mr. Ouji. Master Frieza is one of the richest men on the planet, if not the single richest. I'm sure he'll give you whatever amount it is that you require to do this job and more for your invaluable services to his cause. Your sponsor is willing to pay any amount you demand. He's bringing a team of only the best together and he wants you to be part of it at any cost. This I can guarantee myself."

"I like the man already. What's the assignment and when do I start?"

"You are to meet with the rest of the team at a specific location. It's a base in a forest that Frieza believes is home to many of the species that you hunt. In fact, he believes that it is home to the majority of the population. This is why he's taking action immediately. You will meet at the base by this afternoon. I'm guessing you already know where it will be, seeing as you're so good at this?" The man's tone was mocking, but now it was Vegeta's turn to mock.

"In fact I know exactly which forest you're speaking of. I've known about the Angels' whereabouts for a while now. And I'm sure that there is other information that I have that will be of value to this Frieza man. Although, my facts on this will cost extra. I don't share my knowledge for free, you know."

The man was speechless. Vegeta chuckled into the phone. He knew he had won this indirect argument by a landslide. He stood, keeping the phone to his ear as he continued.

"And what's the assignment?" Vegeta pressed. He wasn't enjoying the evasive answers he had been receiving. It seemed too deceptive for his liking. Something about this assignment wasn't going to be like anything he had ever done, he deduced from the man's secretiveness. No one ever kept things from him when he was on an assignment. His sponsors always wanted him to know everything so that he wouldn't fail. When someone hired him, they knew the cost, and they always wanted to job done right in as little time as humanly possible.

"Master Frieza wishes for that information to be disclosed at the rendezvous point in the forest. He specifically told me not to reveal specific pieces of information over a phone line. A presentation will be given at the base to answer any questions you may have. Can you handle that, Mr. Ouji?" That last part sounded like another attempt at mockery to Vegeta, but he ignored it. If this Frieza clown was willing to pay any price, Vegeta just might bankrupt him. He wasn't going to be treated like a prince. He was going to treat himself to a king's way of life when this was done and over with. He would never need to work another day in his entire life… The only problem was that he had to complete the job first. That was the way these jobs always worked. He didn't mind though. If anyone could do it, he could. And if he couldn't do it, then no one else in the world could. It was either him or no one. Simple as that.

Feeling pleased with himself, Vegeta asked another question. "When can we talk about my pay?" He walked over to a pile of clothes on top of the counter in the kitchen section of the small apartment. He grabbed a blue spandex shirt off the top of the pile and threw it on, still holding the phone to his ear with one shoulder as he pulled it down over his muscled stomach. He took a moment to admire his own flawless features.

"Your sponsor said it can be anything you wish. Name your price now and I will give him the message that you have agreed. Or you can think about it and give your price at the base."

"If I tell you now, then what am I agreeing to?" he asked suspiciously. "You said you can't tell me what the assignment is over this phone line."

"That is the point, Mr. Ouji. Master Frieza wishes everyone's full cooperation in this, including you. That means that you name your price and agree to the assignment with a legal contract. Then you get the job's information. You must complete it to get your pay, and that keeps you from backing out of it."

Vegeta mentally snorted. No one could keep him from anything. But he wasn't going to tell that to the old man. Some things were better left unsaid when it came to work.

"Oh, and another thing. Master Frieza wishes for you to lead this assignment, seeing as he feels that you are the best of all his recruits."

Vegeta smirked. "It sounds like this is going to fun."

"We'll see you at the base in one hour, then?" the old man asked and Vegeta nodded to himself.

"One hour it is."

The man hung up the line and Vegeta set his phone down on the counter, avoiding placing it in a puddle of tap water that was still there from a couple days ago.

He walked to his bed in the back right corner of the room and got down on one knee. Holding himself up with one arm on the bed, he leaned his head down to look under it. When he found the large metal box, he gripped the handle and hauled it out from under the bed.

He sat down on the ground and placed the metal box on his lap. Filling in the correct six-number combination, the lock popped open and he lifted the lid to reveal what was inside. Vegeta smiled. He hadn't opened this box in a while. The last time he closed it had been when he had finished his last assignment.

He wondered if he should bring only what he believed he would need, or if he should just bring the whole box of supplies with him when he left. Deciding that once he was gone, he never wanted to see this place again, he settled on bringing the entire box. He grabbed a plastic shopping bag that had been lying next to him and flapped it open. He stood and grabbed his pile of blue spandex clothing off the counter and shoved them into the bag. He was never coming back to this dump, so he was going to bring everything with him, not just the large metal box.

He then grabbed the only unopened bag of chips he owned and shoved them in the plastic bag as well, on top of his clothes. There really wasn't anything else that he owned that he cared about enough to bring with him. The chips had been a stretch. The only thing he really cared about was the metal box. And more importantly, the things inside of it.

Trying to brush his fingers through his hair, he grunted. There were too many knots to even get a couple inches through. Vegeta dislodged his fingers from the tangled mess and grabbed his phone, pocketing it before kicking open the door. It didn't have a door knob or even a lock, so kicking it easily did the job.

He walked back over to the box and closed the cover, locking it and resetting the combination. He lifted it off the ground by the handle and looked at the underside. A thick white piece of tape was slowly peeling off from the corners. In his own messy handwriting it read: Hunting Equipment.

He gripped one of the already peeling corners of the tape and ripped it off. It left sticky residue behind on the metal, but he didn't care enough to pay it any heed. He grabbed the plastic bag of clothes and chips and exited the room by the open door.