A blank limo pulled up to the front of the vast mansion where a throng of cheering admirers were gathered in unison shouting a name. Two figures in black suit and ties gingerly stepped out of the vehicle. The two gazed unblinkingly through their dark sunglasses at the bright and lively scene before them. One of them was a tall strongly built middle aged black male with a head full of curly hair. Standing under the scorching sun, his very presence shimmered. The second, shorter of the two was likewise middle-aged. But whereas her companion was tall and muscular, she was shorter and lithe with a pale skin complexion contrasting with her rosy lips.
"After you dear," he said. His voice barely audible over the near roar emanating from the festive crowd.
"Ever the gentleman. But why is it this is only ever so when we're out in public?" she inquired.
"Only in public? I do believe you have me mistaken for someone who's not the consummate gentleman. Besides, I wanted to make a good impression on the savior of the planet," he said. "After all, wouldn't want to get on the bad side from someone who could flatten me in one blow."
"That's funny, you always seem to get on my bad side."
"I said flatten me with one blow, not just blow me."
He could almost see her rolling her eyes under those dark sunglasses of her while she cocked her head and gave him that look.
"Just remember when we're inside, let me do all the talking. Last thing we need is a scene with the media," the shorter of the two said. "Should be a simple enough task, even for the likes of you."
"Like I said, after you my dear."
Flashing their badges, the two made their way through the milling, reveling crowd and onto the front veranda of the towering ornate mansion. The man pressed the doorbell and waited for the response. A few minutes elapsed before the door creaked opened revealing not a butler as expected but a medium height teenage girl around 13 or 14 years of age. She was wearing a black belt around her waist over a crimson dark loose-fitting karate gi and an irritated scowl. Her hair was swept back into a pair of pony-tails, its dark features seemingly accentuating glowering glare. Her eyes were even darker yet.
"What do you want, more fans seeking autographs from the great champion?" came the snarling challenge.
"Aahhh, you must be Videl. I've heard a great many things about you," said the taller one with a white toothy grin and a proffered hand for a shake. "Although seeing you in the flesh I can definitely see how exactly you managed to charm the media so." He wasn't terribly surprised when the feisty girl declined his invitation for a handshake.
"Ahumm…" the shorter woman slightly coughed before elbowing her companion in the stomach. "I'm Agent Burdett, and this is Agent Hamilton. We're with the Federal Investigation Bureau and are here to see your father. " The pair flashed their badges. "We called ahead of time to arrange an appointment, but if this is a bad time…"
Videl's eyes slightly widened in surprise. "You… you're with the government? Y…yeah. Come right in. You guys can have a seat on the couch. I'll get my dad." Anything to get away from him and his legions of fawning fans. Ugh... why did he have to have me demonstrate his fighting moves to them. He can do them just fine by himself or one of his many so-called students. God, they should be in a circus not a fighting dojo! Why my father ever took them on as students or is considering this newest batch is beyond me.
She led the two inside the mansion, past the atrium, and through several long winding hallways before settling on what looked like a gigantic meeting room. Inside, the room was filled with a large wooden rectangular table with several luxurious chairs scattered about, not to mention the veritable array of life-sized busts of the champion himself. Trophies and pictures filled the view, adorning nearly every square inch of the walls and ceiling. Nestled on top of the table was what looked like a 15 ft. statue replica of Hercule Satan striking a pose, flexing both biceps over a toppled Cell. In the background, you could almost still hear the nearly imperceptible chants of the adoring fans outside, "Hercule! Hercule! Hercule! Hercule!"
After several minutes, a brief scuffling of footsteps heralded the entrance of Hercule Satan. He was wearing a large cape draped across his back and a loose golden tank-top revealing his muscular chest and arms.
"Hello there! It's good to have representatives of the newly formed government in my home," he said, striking a pose holding up two fingers in a V. "Of course, I guess I should've expected this visit sooner or later. You guys probably want to give me a medal or two for saving the world and everything."
The two agents merely nodded and smiled back.
"Hello to you as well. Of course we would love to discuss what had happened in the Cell Games with you Mr. Satan," Agent Burdette serenely answered. "That way we can determine exactly would your reward should be."
"Haha, alright. Sounds great by me," said Hercule. "Listen Videl sweetie, us grown-ups are gonna have a nice discussion. Would you mind leaving us alone for a few minutes? I think there's a couple of fans from the tour still waiting in the back. Show them around the house and the dojo, and maybe a couple of moves, but nothing too fancy Don't wanna give all my secret techniques away on a free tour. Oh, and make sure they don't touch anything? Got it? Thanks."
"Oh Dad, Come On! You know that I was going to go train later!"
"Sweetie, think of this as training, you'll get to show everyone how tough and refined your skills are! This way, one day you can be as famous as me."
"Fine, whatever," came the curt reply before the raven haired girl turned and stomped out of the room.
"So," the large afro-haired man said, reclining down on a large soft seat with a large grin on his face, hands holding the back of his head and his legs plopped on top of another chair, "what is it going to be this time? I like the golden medals the best, they're the shiniest and I think they really accentuate my figure, you know?"
"Actually, we have these for you," said Hamilton pulling out a folder of photos from inside his jacket and plopping them in front of Mr. Satan.
Hercule's eyebrows creased into a frown as he reached over to pick up the stack of folders. Taking the first one out his eyes widened suddenly.
"These are… these are…"
"Yes, these are photos of the Cell Games," Agent Burdett responded matter-of-factly.
"But how? All the cameras… they were destroyed or damaged there!"
"Oh… you know, satellites, aerial reconnaissance, that sort of thing. A lot of our cameras did break thanks to all the energy being emitted from the battle, but we had a couple of special ones out there just floating around for a special occasion. Of course, all that dust floating around made getting clear photos even harder, but hey, you should rest assured that your tax dollars bought the best cameras money could buy. But that shouldn't concern you," Hamilton said. "What you should be focusing on are the pictures. Now, imagine what people are going to say when they find out you've been lying to them for nigh over two years. Two years! Not to mention all that money you've been making from endorsements and increased Satan Dojo memberships. Why the public backlash would be… well it wouldn't be terribly pleasant, don't you think?"
"I don't believe you," Hercules shouted, standing up. "These are obviously fake, and you're just here to blackmail me. Yes, that's right. You're too cowardly to face me head-on so you resort to these, these slanderous lies! Besides, if these are real, why would you wait two years before releasing them"
"Now now," Burdett said reassuringly, raising both hands to try to calm the man down. "We're not here to publicly humiliate you or anything. As for why we chose to wait? Well, that's unimportant as well. The fact of the matter is we're here, these photos are genuine. But you have nothing to fear from us Mr. Satan. No, all we want is a partnership of sorts. You scratch our back, we'll scratch yours. That sort of thing"
"I… I..." This Can't Be Happening! Satan gulped, struggling to find some words before slowly sitting back down, struggling to prevent his whole world and his facade from crumbling down.
Burdett leaned forwarded with a friendly grin on her face, "The public doesn't need to know what happened, in fact my superiors would love to make you the face of the new government. We will give you our ringing endorsement. After a few years, not a single child will not know the name Hercules Satan. After all, the people still need a hero to rally behind, and we already have one in you. No, what we need is for you to tell us everything you know about what happened at the Cell Games. That's it, nothing more. It's so simple really"
"And if I refuse?" Hercules barely whispered, not trusting this unctuous woman for a second yet too afraid of breaking eye contact with her.
Burdett slightly frowned, "If you refuse? Then, you'll be talking to my friend Agent Hamilton over here."
Crack-crack! Hercules was startled out of his gaze as he noticed Hamilton cracking his knuckles. No wait, his glowing knuckles! Which are attached to the rest of his glowing hand!
"And Agent Hamilton over here will show you how all those tricks you keep harping on about aren't really tricks. But you already knew that didn't you?"