Whenever Krillin felt that he had triumphed, that he had finally won, a new challenge inevitably arose, always harder than the last. This time, the conflict he was met with was mightier than ever before, one which could only be resolved by weeks of intense training and unlimited encouragement. This was greater than Cell, greater than Frieza, greater than anything else he had ever been met with in his many long years of fighting; where was the "K" key?
He sat, his back erect, staring blankly at the computer screen that sat in front of him. His finger traced each button on the keyboard, trying to remember where that stupid K key was. Alas, after a stern few minutes of complete concentration, he surrendered, turning his head down to face the keyboard. There it lay, in the position it always was, enjoying a nice chat with L while I sat rudely atop him. Krillin's clumsy index finger came down on it, before the letter popped up simultaneously on the screen.
With this letter typed, he resumed his memo. Now that he was actually facing the keyboard, he was able to gracefully finish up the memorandum. He then accidentally sent it off to everyone in his contacts, despite the fact that only about 3 of them actually needed the document.
He glanced at the time - it was 5:00. On a normal day, he would remain in the office for another 4 hours, but today was no normal day. People had already begun shuffling out of the office, in a hurry to resume their lonesome personal lives. With haste he packed his supplies up, careful to avoid his boss' imaginary glare. He stood up while hunched over, trying to hide his face from his superiors. He blended in, however, with all the other people leaving, thus meaning that this "stealth" only made him all the more conspicuous.
He had once more shown up in the early hours of the morn, and as such he received a prime parking spot. After but mere moments, he was in his sloppily parked car once more, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He inserted his key into the ignition, shifted the gear into drive, and pressed down on the gas pedal. With a sputter and a vroom, the wheels began rotating. Krillin's car was leaving the workplace.
18 wouldn't be expecting him home so early; he usually would not return until 10 at night, when he would fall into a deep slumber. This gave him 5 hours. He had 5 hours to work with, and maybe that would be enough. Maybe not.
After many a near accident, he found a parking garage. Granted, it was damp, shady, and altogether pretty sketchy, but for Krillin's needs it was perfect. He drove right in, before parking. He opened up the door of the car and began to step out, but then he quickly reentered the vehicle. Grabbing back into the passenger seat, he picked up his mask once more, before sliding it onto his face. Perfect.
He stood back up out of the car. Had he any sense, he would have surely realized that such a flashy mask would have alerted authorities. Of course, Krillin had no street sense, being nothing but a rural country man. He stepped about, trying to figure out where to go. After countless seconds of contemplation, he chose to ascend up the roof. From there, he would have a mighty fine view of the city, allowing him to begin his crime-fighting escapades. Yeah.
The parking garage had plenty enough open spaces on the exterior walls, so, with great haste, he jumped out of one. With grace he flew up, attracting a multitude of wandering eyes. Of course, they all came to accept it as special effects trickery, before quickly moving on with their busy lives. After all, amazement can wait.
Given his incredible speed, he found the roof quite quickly. He stood atop it, hoping to find some sorts of crimes going on down in the city, like maybe a rifleman going on a killing spree or maybe a postal worker stabbing people mercilessly. The fatal flaw in this impeccable plan was that Krillin couldn't see worth half of a damn from atop the building, meaning that he might have to revise his idea a little bit.
He jumped off the building with finesse, before landing solidly on the ground. Think, Krillin, think! he pondered to himself. How can I find crime? The first solution he thought of was to follow the screams of victims, but that was no good. In the busy city afternoon, you couldn't hear a thing outside of the beeping of horns and the sirens wailing.
Due to his lack of a panoramic view and the incessant cacophony of the area, Krillin was unable to track down any crime using his hearing or sight. Smelling, tasting, and touch were of course ridiculous senses to use here, meaning that all five senses were rendered useless. Heh… if only he had a sixth sense to use here, that one might be helpful.
That's it! His sixth sense! His ability to sense ki! By scanning the area for evil ki, Krillin would be able to detect the areas of extreme evil and therefore find crime scenes. He closed his eyes, intensely focusing upon the rest of the city. There were innumerable sources of ki in the city, but in only a few of them could Krillin find intense evil ki.
You see, every person has a source of inner ki. This ki reflects the temperament of the owner of the ki, meaning that, if one was to be in a state of neither morality nor immorality, his ki is completely neutral. When one performs a good deed or is kind to another person, his ki reflects this, becoming good ki. Alternately, if a person is to commit a crime or act meanly to another, his ki will become negative. Depending upon the severity of the person's action, his ki will become more or less intense, in its respective dogma.
Krillin naturally found the area of the strongest evil ki, which was in the inner city, surprise surprise. With speed he flew over to the area, the wind bristling through the forming buds of his hair. People were now staring at him in unbelieving awe, their eyes wide and their chins resting on the floor. Krillin took no notice, instead continuing to fly in oblivion toward the area of intense evil. He whizzed about cars, flew over small buildings, and, for the first time since he had come to the city, he felt free.
He came to the source of the maleficent resonations within moments. Landing upon the ground, he surveyed the area. The source of the evil was immediately apparent; people were staring at a bank, pointing at it and screaming fearful nothings into the air. Two of the windows were broken, the front door completely pulverized. Demands erupted from the building; the demands were spoken with faux-arrogance, in an almost trembling voice.
"Give me - the money! Gimme all the money!" the crook's voice hollered, his voice shaky, yet gaining confidence as it continued. Krillin stepped inside the building, drawing gasps from the onlookers. He found that the robber was holding a gun and a sack, one which was pointed at the clerk's head and the other of which was accumulating money.
"Stop," Krillin projected across the building, prompting the thief to turn back. He sniggered at Krillin's silly mask, before asking the teller for more cash. Krillin zoomed up to him in but an instant, swatting the gun out of the crook's hand. Krillin grabbed the stealer by the collar, before turning the criminal around to face him. "Why'd you do that?" Krillin asked, which was soon to become the question he always asked after apprehending a perpetrator.
"I… I wanted the bucks, man. I needed the bucks," the law-breaker replied, short of words. "Please don't kill me, bro! I don't wanna die here!" he continued hysterically. Krillin, not bothering to utter a response to this, began to fly out of the bank with the criminal. He planned to take him to the police station, but he found police-bots to be waiting right outside of the building. Handing the crook over to them, he noticed a change in their appearance.
"Hey… y'all don't look the same as you usually do. Were y'all upgraded?" Krillin asked, with an inquisitive expression. He then fully gave them the robber, allowing them to take full custody of the man. They cuffed him up and sat him down in the police car.
"We're the new model of androids in this line. We're the FurryBot 2.0!" a particularly perky cop responded. "For all intents and purposes, we are machines made again." Krillin, satisfied with this answer, flew away, seeking out a new crime to stop.
Such a routine became the basis of Krillin's life. 18 never knew the better of it, and Krillin's boss never confronted him on his earlier departure time. He fought crime, handed the evil-doers into the cops, and became a hero of the city. Despite this crime-fighting, though, he still found time to work and spend time with his fiancée. Krillin was managing it all.
"Look! There goes KaiMan!" KaiMan was the city's superhero name for Krillin, as he never sought to provide a name himself. To the public eye, Krillin was aloof, rarely sparing them even the slightest address. He fought crime; there was no need for publicity or popularity to Krillin. He did this because it felt right to him, not because he wanted the city to like him.
On this particular night, Krillin found himself to be atop a building, searching for bad ki around the city. Crime was coming to be harder to find nowadays; perhaps because of Krillin's looming presence, the crime rates were down. But this was of no matter, for there was always the occasional crime or two going on. After scanning around for a moment or two, he did find a properly nasty ki at a shopping mart.
Surely it was just another robbery, so Krillin nose dived off of the building and swooped upwards, dashing through the obstacles in his way. He found himself able to easily break 120 miles per hour without breaking a sweat, meaning he moved faster than any police car could. As such, he always arrived at the scene first, meaning that no policeman ever had to risk himself while Krillin was on duty.
He arrived at the shopping mall in seconds. He peered inside the mart… nothing. Everything was proceeding as it did normally. It could have been a shoplifter… but that wouldn't produce such powerful signals. And then he heard the screams. They were blood curdling hollers of fright, but not unlike anything that Krillin hadn't heard before. Any other human (besides perhaps Tien) would have been horribly shocked, but it was almost commonplace for Krillin to hear such screams. He tracked down the source of the sound.
Hidden in a back alley was a gang of people, all of whom were circled around one man. Krillin hopped over to them, and, with a few small pushes, separated the group. Krillin took the target of their attacks and pulled him up, asking him, "Why'd they attack you?"
The man, with a timid demeanor, replied, "Uh, Mr. KaiMan, My name's Mr. Michael Apachee. I don't exactly know why they attacked me. They all just came rushing at me, calling me a terrorist. Then they stabbed me real good and hurt me. If you hadn't gotten here right when you did, I probably would've died. I dunno if the cops have even been called yet." Krillin stared into his eyes. His eyes were glassy, apathetic, and cold. They stared back into Krillin's head without waver.
"Uh, okay. You got a phone? Call the police if you do. I'll – I'll hang around until they come." With this, the man pulled out his portable phone, before alerting the police of the battery. However, Michael Apachee, bloody as he might have been, had accomplished something very important; he had figured "KaiMan" out.
King Furry was, as always, swamped with work. Sleep escaped him… it may have been days, perhaps a week, since he had last slept. A tower of paperwork stood beside his royal throne, seeming as though it were about to fall over every moment, but then deciding to balance itself out.
"More paperwork, sir," spoke a loyal servant, as he entered the room. "Mainly just requests for permission this time. Not quite so much legislature this round." The servant gently set the new stack of papers down atop the already monolithic skyscraper of papers.
"Hmph. Is the public situation is still fine?" Furry asked, more out of hollow responsibility than out of genuine interest.
"Yes, the public situation is fine, your highness. There is a new superhero out there, like the Golden Fighters a while back, named KaiMan ," responded the servant, although even he knew not much of the state of the nation.
"I'm sure he'll soon leave too. What's he up to? Fighting aliens too?" Furry asked, stifling a laugh.
"Just fighting petty crime, sir. He's doing a great job at it, too. Crime rate's down quite a bit," the servant replied, hoping that Furry would not pry for any more information.
Catching on to his servant's hopes, Furry responded, "Thanks for the information. You may go now." The servant bowed and left, exiting the King's domain. Now that he was once more on his own, Furry began to, with not but a glance at most of the documents, stamp away at the papers. He was just doing his job.
