To everyone talking/asking about Gohan becoming SSG: To be honest, besides the irony of Gohan becoming SSG, I don't really have much for Super. I have multiple endings in mind, so I could go there, but only if I get more ideas for Super. Problem is, the changes made so far aren't really going to have much of an impact on the overall story of Super.
I guess, in the end, I'm not willing to stretch this past it's limit, or put in 'filler' chapters.
To Abyssdoor: In his defence, Goku probably wanted to see all his friends again, and have some fun with them. Yeah, it's a lame excuse, but it's all I got.
In my honest opinion, Goku coming back because of Majin Buu, rather than it just so happening to be on that very day would have been so much better.
To Gyroplex14: I do have some sort of schedule, in fact, and I usually have one or more 'ready' chapters sitting in my folders, but like I said before, I like being ahead a little, so I can change a few things. If it's already uploaded, I can't do that.
As for the schedule itself, I do have one, but I'm not married to it. I will delay a chapter if I feel it isn't ready.
To RenegadeForLife: To be fair, the people in the world of DBZ do have a bit of a weirdness censor. Like the dinosaurs, the animal people, the aliens, or when Perunga was summoned, it caused a bit of a stir, but then people realised it was above Capsule Corp, they just ignored it.
Come on, people, it's a giant dragon, and it's right THERE!
And don't get me started on Goku transforming into SSJ3, shaking up the planet, and the whole population was telepathically present. And then, when Vegeta asks them to donate energy after being revived, what do they do? Ignore it.
Personally, I think the whole world is stupid.
To Caspian123: You forgot to mention how there used to be an entire species of them, and they absolutely love to fight. :)
I think in most other series the Saiyans, or even only one of them, would be an absolute nightmare, and the ultimate evil to defeat.
(Scratches chin.) I wonder if I can work with that.
But yeah, the idea of a Super Saiyan being terrifying rather than something pretty is what shaped a large part of this fic.
As for the moments you await, well, no spoilers. :)
To Anilime Ahsim: I think I'm going to ignore Bojack, since it's a movie, and at this point it doesn't bring anything new to the table, so it wouldn't be more than a mere mention.
I mean, I could but it would probably be some kind of filler, and I'm not really willing to do that. This story is going to be long enough by itself already.
One more thing, I do not have a schedule or anything. I don't even write regularly, so I can't promise anything. Though I do usually only update on Fridays. I guess it brings me luck, somehow.
Besides, I like to take my time. I think writing a story is like a fart. If you try to force it you'll probably end up with shit.
And with those wise words, let us get to the chapter.
Chapter 10
Injustice
In a basement, someplace.
A lone light bulb suspended from the ceiling was casting a dim light throughout the large room. This was likely intended to demoralize the captives held here.
A man had just regained consciousness. His left eye wouldn't open, every breath sent waves of pain through his left side, and judging by the taste of iron, something had been bleeding in his mouth.
He was sitting down on the ground with his legs stretched straight out, and his back against something hard, some kind of pole. He tugged on the ropes binding his hands. They were tied to the ground, or near the ground behind him, he couldn't see.
Cringing at the pain caused by attempting to move himself, he attempted to lean heavier against the pole for some kind of support. His heart was pounding. Not for the first time since this ordeal had started, he felt fear. Genuine fear.
He needed a second to orient himself. What had happened?
He had arrived at the place the call had came from. An apartment building, and abandoned, from the looks of the thing. No one to be seen.
Until he walked around the corner, into a hallway with doors on both sides. Once he passed the first ones, a someone yelled, and the doors were thrown open, people running out.
People armed with clubs and tasers.
He didn't go gently. He was pretty sure he broke someone's ribs, a few noses, arms, legs and fingers. Seven people he knocked down. But at number eight he slipped his guard, and he was the one to go down. And there were still six more guys, at the least. Then nothing. He supposed he should count himself lucky he wasn't beaten to death then and there.
He sighed. Looking at the room in front of him, he realized that he could make out more details. His heart was slowing down. That was good.
The walls were grey brick. He thought for a second that maybe he could punch through it, until he noticed some barred windows at the top of all the walls. Which meant he was in a basement.
Back to thinking it was. Unfortunately, that's about all he could do right now. In his current condition, freeing himself was off the table.
Had those people been waiting for him? If so, then perhaps would have been better if he had died then and there.
No point in thinking that. He was here, and alive. Where was here anyway?
He looked around the room. His focus was clearing up even more now. Wherever this place was, he wasn't alone. He must be in worse shape than he thought. He hadn't even seen them until now. Several men, women, and even two children were tied to the wall.
Unlike them, he seemed to be on a small platform, as if he was the centrepiece of this cruel collection. He didn't know for sure, since he couldn't turn around, but he seemed to be in the middle as well.
Who were those people anyway? And why were they tied up with him? He looked around. Some were looking around as well, some had their heads hung, and he wasn't sure if they were conscious or simply waiting for something.
No one seemed to be looking in his direction. Had he been recognised? He had no moustache, and no afro, wearing baggy clothes to hide his large body. And judging from how his face felt, it must have been swollen slightly as well.
He must be looking very differently from the Hercule Satan they knew. And that just gave him a little hope. It could mean that the people who captured him didn't know who he was.
But that just rose another question.
If he wasn't taken because he was recognised, then why was he?
And all of this couldn't repress a growing feeling of worry. Videl's call came from that place. Was she captured as well?
Gohan spent a bit of time flying about. Bulma's words kept coming back to his mind. "Most of the people who worship you now only do it out of fear."
He remembered what Erasa had answered him. "You are glowing and flying and being incredibly powerful, it can be a little scary."
'But why?' He asked himself again. He looked at his hand as he gathered energy in it. 'Why are people afraid? I'm not threatening anyone, am I? Do they really think I just randomly killed seven people? But why?'
He let the energy fade and clenched his hand to a fist.
'I… I don't understand.'
Hercule wished he had a watch, or a clock, or even a bit of sunlight on the floor, anything to tell him the time. How long had he been out? Had he been moved after he was knocked out? If so, where to?
He had been looking around, having literally nothing better to do, for a few minutes.
In this time, his daze had worn off, and he was pretty sure he had a large bruise on his left side, if not outright broken ribs. He also found a loose tooth, probably where the blood was coming from, and was currently wondering if he should try to force it out, or leave it.
"Hey." A man to his left called. And looked straight at him. Oh dear, does he know? "You don't look so good." The man continued.
"I got a bit of a beating." He admitted, warping his voice somewhat.
"That's pretty obvious." The man returned. "Your entire face is blue and swollen, man."
"That sounds about right." He replied. "How long was I out?"
"Don't know, but they brought you in here at least half an hour ago." The man answered. "And you already looked like that. What happened to you anyway? None of the rest of us got beaten."
"I didn't cooperate." He avoided the question.
"You didn't?" The man actually looked surprised. As did the other people listening in, which was basically everyone. It was the only sound in the room, so not listening in might be a bit hard. "You're lucky they didn't shoot you on the spot, man."
"Shoot me?" He tried to raise his eyebrows, but couldn't really tell if he did. He also strained his memory. "I don't remember seeing any guns. Just a bunch of people with clubs and tasers jumping me."
"Jumping you?" Someone else added it. "You weren't plucked from the streets at gunpoint?"
"You know, they were pretty excited when they brought him in." Another continued to the second. "He must be someone special."
"Yeah." A fourth agreed. "Who are you?"
"Does it matter?" Hercule replied. As long as people didn't know who he was, he had hope of walking out again. "I was in a place looking for my daughter."
"Your daughter?" The first repeated. "Did she get lost?"
"We got separated." He replied. "She's not here, is she?" He suddenly worried.
"Not sure." The man replied. "There's a couple of unconscious people brought in just after you. They knocked us all out with some kind of drug. What does she look like?"
"She's eighteen, black hair, not very tall." Hercule started.
The man looked to a place behind him. "Does she have a mole on her forehead?"
"No." He replied.
"Then I don't think she's here." The reply came, to his relief.
But where was here? And what was going to happen to them?
And just because Videl wasn't here, it didn't mean she wasn't taken by these guys.
Who are those guys? And what do they want?
"Hey." He called to the guy who first addressed him. "Who are those guys anyway? And what do they want with us?"
"They're cultists of some sort." The man made some kind of shrug. "As for what they want, not a clue. Hopefully not to sacrifice us for the glory of the Golden God, or something screwed up like that."
"Hopefully." Hercule sighed. He had a bad feeling about this.
Gohan was about to make his way home when Piccolo telepathically contacted him. He told him that Videl was going to reach the top soon, and if he wanted to be there.
Of course he did, so off he went, to Korin Tower.
"Hey, Sharpner." Erasa suddenly called him. The two had been sitting around still trying to comprehend the things told to them.
Aliens, Super Saiyans, Gohan's father, Bulma…
Yeah, it was a lot to take in, and something told them they had only just scratched the surface. So they sat in silence, thinking it over.
Well, up until Erasa got bored and decided she'd rather talk about something. And she had a topic.
"What is it?" He looked up at her.
"I was wondering, you and Videl are pretty good fighters, and looks like Gohan is a Martial Artist as well." She started. "Maybe you could show me a few things?"
"What?" Was all he said.
…
Then he spoke the only thing on his mind.
"What?"
"Oh, come on, don't give me that." She looked at him in annoyance. "I know I've never liked fighting, but it's different now. I trust you, but I want to be able to defend myself."
"And I'm sure Gohan having an interest in fighting has nothing to do with it." He teased her a little.
This made Erasa shift colours faster than even Gohan could. "No."
"Sure." Sharpner teased her a little more. And he thought it over for a second.
She was right, things were different now. The world had changed. Gone was the safety of the police, or the protection of the law.
Golden City was turned upside down.
"Alright, I'll show you a few things." He agreed, and promptly made some space by pushing the sofa away and moving the table.
"Lesson one." He started.
"Wait, right now?" She didn't expect that.
"Sure, did you have anything better to do?" He baited her.
"Well, I… fine." She gave in. "What we doing first? Dynamite Kick? Megaton Punch?" Despite not expecting to start then and there, she couldn't help but feel a little excited.
"Let's start with the basics." He shot her down.
"Basics?" She repeated, disappointed.
"They are very important." He replied calmly. "How can you expect to launch a Dynamite Kick if you don't even have a proper stance?"
"But why is that important?" She asked.
"Let's see, how do I explain?" He wondered for a second. "You know those katas Videl and I used to practice?"
"Ah, those little dances of yours?" She answered cheekily.
"They are not… ok, they're a little like dances." He humoured her. "But that is important. Martial Arts isn't about fancy moves or kicking ass, it's about teaching the body to move in a certain way."
"Why is that important?" She asked, disbelieving.
"You know, I once asked Mr. Satan that very same question, and he… you know what? I'll just show you instead." He changed his mind.
"Show what?" She didn't understand.
"You'll see." He replied, and tapped himself on the cheek. "Punch me, right here."
"I'll never hit." She protested.
"That's not the point." He said calmly. Suspicious.
"Will this hurt?" She then asked.
"Only me if you hit me." He answered. "Come on, punch me."
Erasa gave in, and drew back her right hand.
"Wait!" He suddenly exclaimed. "Ok, never mind, it's a proper fist, not a fingers around the thumb one."
"Of course, you think I'm some kind of idiot?" She threw back, insulted.
"You'd be surprised how many people do that." He rolled his eyes as he said it. "You will break your thumb like that. Oh well, punch me."
She did. Or tried. Sharpner brought up his left hand and caught it.
A soft tab was heard as her his struck his palm.
"Good." He nodded. "Now with your left."
She drew back her left hand and struck.
Tab.
"Right again." He commanded.
"Left."
Tab.
"Right."
Tab.
"Keep going as fast as you can."
Tab.
Tab.
Tab.
Tab.
Tab.
Tab.
Tab.
"Ok, good." He then stated.
Tab. One last punch that was already on its way.
"What's the point?" She wondered out loud.
"You'll see. Now, I want you to punch in a different way." He walked behind her and grabbed her right hand, pushing it up to her shoulder. "Now, strike out with a straight line."
She did so. "That feels weak." She complained.
"That's because it is only step one. Do it again."
Again she moved her fist in a straight punch.
"Faster." He said. "Good, now, when you punch, I want you to start here." He twisted her shoulders back, and pushed up her hand. "Turn your shoulders as you punch."
Again she did it. And again. And again.
"Ok, good." Sharpner nodded. "Now do it with your left."
Suddenly trying to mirror the movement was a little confusing, but Sharpner helpfully guided her arm and shoulders into the proper movements.
She made a few air punches with her left as well, and then he made yet another adjustment.
"When you punch with your right hand, I want you to move your left up to your shoulder."
"Why?" She questioned.
"Just do it."
She did. Her punch was a little sloppy, but after a few tries she figured out the right movement.
And then he made her mirror it with her left.
"Final step." He said once satisfied. "Punch me, then keep still."
She did, in the way he just taught her, with a straight right punch, turning her shoulders into it, and raising her left to her shoulder.
Tab.
"Now, from that position, punch with your left."
She drew back her right, and with the motion switched to her left, mirroring what she did just now.
Tab.
"Good." He nodded. "Keep switching like that."
Tab.
Tab.
"Faster!"
Tab. Tab. Tab. Tab. Tab. Tab. Tab. Tab. Tab. Tab. Tab. Tab.
"This is stupid." Erasa suddenly stopped. Mostly because the back and forth movements of her shoulders were being copied by her breasts, and she just noticed.
"It kinda is." Sharpner admitted, doing his best to ignore that. "But you're also doing better than you did before. Didn't you notice? Thanks to a proper line of punching, your fist has less distance to cover, making each punch faster. With the turning of your shoulders you've added extra strength to each punch, and by raising your other arm as you punch, you're immediately ready for the next one, significantly cutting the time between your punches."
Erasa looked at her hands for a second, thinking back and comparing her two assaults on Sharpner. She wasn't sure about punching harder, but the second set was clearly much faster.
Seeing realisation dawn in her eyes, Sharpner continued. "And that is the power of proper form."
"So this is how you throw a proper punch?" Erasa wondered.
"Not quite, there's also footwork, legwork, and hipwork." He shot her down again. "Ideally, a good punch has the strength of your entire body behind it, all the way down from your toes. And then there's still kicks, falling and rolling without hurting yourself, very important. And drills, of course."
"Dances." She threw at him.
He ignored it. He was in teaching mode now. "If proper form improves a single attack, then drills let you fluently go from one attack to the other. We practice both of these so much so we don't have think about it anymore, we do so automatically. The body must learn, we call it."
"And then?"
"Then there are still grapples and strangleholds, and how to break or avoid them."
"And when I've learned all that?"
"When you've mastered all that, you may call yourself a black belt."
"Wait what?" She wasn't quite sure she heard that one right.
"Because that's all there really is to a black belt." He continued. "Mastery of the basics. I have a black belt, but I am a novice next to the real masters."
"Ah." She nodded. "So, where do I start?"
"You might want change though." He said, looking at the roof rather than at Erasa. "And put on a sports bra, or something like that."
"Aha!" She nearly yelled, protectively crossing her arms over her chest. "So you were looking."
"They were right there!" He gestured to them. "It was hard to miss. And I'm a guy, I can't help it."
"So even a black belt is useless ageist these, huh?" Erasa suddenly got a bad idea. "So whenever I'm up against a guy, all I have to do is pull out my weapons of mass distraction, and he'll be off guard."
"Sad thing is, that would probably work." He muttered. "But having the element of surprise won't do you any good if you can't make use of it. And that's how we get back to the basics."
Erasa sighed, but taking enjoyment in how uncomfortable Sharpner was. "I own a couple of sports bras. I never actually used them though, so I didn't bring them along."
She followed her father down the stairs, to the basement of the apartment complex. She had heard he had been busy, and got a small crowd of people.
Originally, they had been intending to broadcast this from the basement. Everything had already been built and set up. Only the cameras remained.
But her father had changed his mind. They were going to go to the parking lot nearby, and do the whole thing out in the open. Their actions were noble and just. Thus, there was no reason to hide.
But that meant that a lot of work needed to be done. They cleared the cars and debris, and built a bit of a podium so the people could see properly. They added a few poles with wires to keep the crowd organized, but who would dare cause a scene?
No. Security wouldn't be a problem. Not at all.
Or so her father thought.
She thought this might get a little ugly, but it would be worth it. She might even gain the attention of the Golden God himself. They were doing this whole thing for him after all. It had been perfectly planned out over the last few days. There had been a lot of logistics to go through. Recruiting, property acquisition, material acquisition, construction management, broadcast scheduling, the list goes on. All that was left was the podium, the cameras and few acolytes to handle them.
It was a lot of work. But it was still worth it. Especially now that they had their trump card locked away in the basement. They only planted their bait on a whim, not actually expecting it to pay off.
A fake voicemail of Videl.
The stupid idiot he was, the fraud had fallen for their trap. And got captured like the chump he was.
When the followers had brought him in, she hardly believed her eyes. He looked different, and not just because his face was beaten in. Looked like some of the followers couldn't help themselves and relieved a bit of stress.
But she recognised him anyway, even without his afro, beard or his usual outfit.
"Angela." Her father called her. "Has the podium been finished?"
"Not yet." She replied. "But we do have all of the wood and stuff, so it shouldn't be long."
"And did you check the weather forecast?" He asked.
"Forecast? Wasn't Sunny Bridges found dead in his basement?" She replied, somewhat annoyed he didn't bother checking himself.
"Oh." Her father nodded. "No matter. It will be fine. The Golden God will provide for us."
From there, they walked on silently.
The two of them had joined a following. A cult, sort of, devoted to restoring the honour of the Golden God. It was founded by an associate of Gohan's, who went by the name of David. Gohan spoke to him, in dreams and visions, telling him of his will.
He was the perfect man for the job. He had a smooth and silky voice, and was good at convincing people to listen to him.
She was a figurehead, because she had personally conversed with the Golden God, but she didn't actually have to do anything.
Her father made sure everything went smoothly. He had a private business in the transport sector, so he knew what he was doing.
They had been busy all day today, which she did regret, because it was today that Gohan returned to the school. She could have been there, in his presence. But no, she was busy working. Oh well, at least she knew for sure he was still around.
Today she'd prove her devotion to him, and maybe, hopefully, he'd take her at his side as his priestess. Then that phone call came in, telling her Hercule had been captured, and her chances just went up considerably.
So she and her father raced here. Meanwhile, her father pulled a few strings to change the plan, to get the parking lot cleared and a podium built.
They reached the bottom of the stairs.
Her father opened the door. It was dark, and smelled of sweat. At the walls there were several people tied down. Disbelievers. Heretics. People who refused to believe in Gohan's power. People that still clung to Hercule and his lies, unwilling to see the truth, and claiming smoke and mirrors, even after the Golden God had proven himself already.
The world was better off without them and their filth.
"There you are." Her father addressed the disgusting pig in the middle of the room. He kicked the tied up man for good measure. "It is time to face the consequences of your lies."
The former champion spat out some blood. "What?" He sounded.
"Oh, look, how cute." Her father kicked him again. "He thinks we don't know who he is."
She huffed arrogantly. "Did you really think you could get away with this. Especially after the Golden God returned?"
"Gohan never wanted any of this." He protested.
Angela, infuriated, reached in her bag and pulled out her teaser, which she pressed into his neck without hesitation. He screamed and twitched in pain.
"Don't you dare take his name on those filthy lips of yours!" She spat.
"Don't go overboard." Her father said aside to her. "We need him to be aware. As stupid as he is, even he should have the opportunity to listen to the word of the Golden God."
He addressed the pig again. "Seriously though, if I had known you'd be stupid enough to just walk in here I just would've sent an invitation."
Hercule grimaced at them, showing his bloody teeth.
"Getting that clip to sound right wasn't easy, you know?" Her father continued.
"Where is Videl?" Hercule then demanded.
"You don't know, do you?" Her father replied gleefully. "Of course you don't, you wouldn't have showed up if you did. Ah, the trap worked perfectly. I only wish I was there to see it myself."
"WHERE IS VIDEL?!" He screamed at them. She expected her father to kick or punch him, but he just laughed.
"She was never here, you nitwit." He mocked, flicking Hercule's forehead while at it. "You're as stupid as you are ugly, aren't you?"
Hercule didn't seem to listed. He just sighed. "Oh, thank Kami."
"Yeah, thank Kami." Angela added in. "Just know that Kami and the Golden God are associated."
"What?" He asked.
"Oh, you didn't know?" She couldn't help but feel satisfied. "Kami even speaks to him telepathically. So don't bother thanking Kami, he had nothing to do with this."
"Besides." Her father continued. "When we find her, and we will, the men are going to have a little fun with her."
"Eh, dad, I'm pretty sure the Golden God wouldn't approve of that." She objected hesitantly.
"This guy didn't need to know that." He replied, a little annoyed.
While she was slightly relieved that it was just to torture the trash before them; her father casually mentioning raping a girl her age had made her a bit uncomfortable.
"Oh well." Her father shrugged. "Have fun in here. And have fun explaining to these people why you ran away if it was all just a trick."
The two turned and left again.
As soon as the preparations were complete, they would have their broadcast. The world would finally hear the teachings of the prophet David.
The heretic would finally be brought to holy justice.
The Golden God would finally be appeased.
All with a public execution.
Erasa let out a sigh of content. She was laying facedown on Sharpner's bed, barely hearing the TV as she felt his hands go over her bare back. Somewhere between practicing martial arts and now she managed to convince Sharpner to give her a back-massage.
Okay. Tricked might be a better word. She casually asked him to help her loosen her muscles, and that's where she mentioned a massage would be really helpful. It was more of a back-rub, considering the guy had no clue what he was doing, but she wasn't picky.
Sharpner had needed a few pointers at first, mostly her telling him to press down harder and more evenly. Now, after some time she let her mind wander freely as she felt her body turn to jelly, had two certain parts doing their best to pierce the mattress, and she wasn't entirely sure if her panties were still dry.
But this was just what she needed. The stress had been building up since Gohan's reveal. Or rescue, considering why he did it. Perhaps intervention would be more accurate?
Anyway, there had been a lot of tension and fear, and now she finally had a chance to lay down and relax. So she did, and was planning on dragging it out for as long as she could.
Sharpner knew what she was doing, but decided to let her have this one. Besides, feeling her soft and smooth skin beneath his palms, hearing, and feeling, her satisfied voice, it was a good way to relax himself as well.
Then Erasa heard something that struck a nerve. Her immediate thought was of Videl. She pushed up to look at TV.
"What is it?" Sharpner asked.
"I think I heard something about Videl." She replied.
"These people have reserved some time on the broadcast to sent a message to the world, and attempt to get the attention of the Golden God himself."
"Another program to grace Gohan." Sharpner said with some distaste.
"We tried to do that too, you know?" Erasa pointed out the hypocrisy in that statement. "Also, don't stop."
He grumbled, but acknowledged it. And continued, though his attention was clearly on the TV now. But so was Erasa's.
"We're not entirely sure how and why, but we do know they have been planning this for some time now. And apparently Hercule Satan seems to be involved."
"Oh, it was about Videl's dad." Erasa concluded, resting her chin on her wrists.
The scene switched, to show a couple of people on a wooden podium.
"Hey, that's Angela." She pointed out the obvious.
"I guess that makes that guy Angela's dad." Sharpner added. "What are they doing?"
The two stood in the middle of a small group, close by a wooden pole, with something covered by a large cloth.
"Behold!" Angela's father yelled, as he grabbed the cloth, and pulled it off.
Erasa shot up, forgetting she had undone her bra and was now effectively topless. Sharpner didn't notice, as his own eyes were fixed on the screen.
"Your champion!"
"Mom!" Bulma heard Trunks call her through the house. She would have told him off, had he not yelled with such a panicked tone.
"Over here!" She replied from her lab. It took him a whole second to flash into the room where she and her father were working.
"Mom, grandma said something bad is happening in Satan City." He said quickly "It's on TV."
"What channel?" She asked, figuring it would be faster to just look for herself than to ask Trunks what was going on.
"ZTV."
Mr. Briefs turned the TV in the lab on, and to the right channel.
"... champion!"
Despite the obvious beating he had gotten, they instantly recognised him.
"It is time to serve justice!" A man with orange/red hair called. "Today, the Golden God will get his sacrificial due."
Bulma turned to her son. "GO!" She yelled at him.
Not wasting a moment, and breaking every rule about flying and Super Saiyans while at it, he shot through the window and left for Golden City.
Angela stepped back a little. Knowing she was on live TV now made her feel a little nervous.
Her father had revealed Hercule to the world, declared their allegiance to the Golden God and would bring justice in his name.
He spent several minutes telling the world of Hercule's crimes, not that anyone had to be reminded, but it gave the whole thing the trial feel they were aiming for. It included fraud, deception, theft, rape, since he basically tricked women with a false identity, some more fraud, slander and workings against the Golden God.
Hercule didn't do much, no pleading, no crying, nothing to make the whole thing more interesting. He seemed to be indifferent to his fate.
Luckily, this wasn't just about him. Before they got hold of the grand prize himself, they had something else planned. Show the world what happens to disbelievers. That's why those other people had been rounded up. To make a point.
The only real difference Hercule's presence made was them deciding to make the whole thing more glamorous.
"Now!" Her father yelled. "It is time to place justice! But don't worry, we won't start with you." He addressed Hercule, though still loud enough for the cameras. "Part of your punishment will be watching the ones you have deceived face judgement before the prophet!"
This was where the camera would zoom out. Hercule's pole was in the middle, but not the only one. On both sides were a row of poles, each of them had someone tied to it. Tied and gagged.
There was also a large crowd before them. So far they had been relatively silent, but now they let themselves be heard, throwing insults and profanities at Hercule, and at the other tied up people.
They waited for the crowd to calm down a bit, then she, her father and the third man walked from the others, to the other captives on the side.
"And for you, disbelievers, we have a message." Her father stated.
This was where the third man, David, took over. "I am the chosen prophet of the Golden God." He announced boldly. "I enact his will, and speak his words. Those who do not follow the will of our leader, those that do not heed, those that do not thank the Golden God for his works, all those will face judgement. These are people who tried to persuade people with a lie. The lie of Satan. It is an insult to our saviour. The mere existence of this lie is a stain on his honour. It must not be allowed to exist."
He turned to the first in the row, a young man, whose voice was muffled by his gag. "In the name of our saviour, the Golden God, and by the power vested in me by him, for the crimes committed against his name, I hereby sentence you to die." He spoke so silky he almost sang the sentence.
"No!" Hercule yelled. Ah, this was exactly what they were hoping for.
"Yes." Angela stated, a small gleeful smile on one side of her mouth.
"Don't do this." He continued, his eyes wide as he pleaded. "I'm the one you want."
"No, you're just an extra." Angela said a variation of her line. "What we want is for the world to see what happens when you defy Son Gohan."
"Stop this!" He yelled. "This is madness! This is not what Gohan wants!"
She kicked him in the head.
"Don't you speak his name, you vile pig!" She snarled, letting her anger take over for a moment, forgetting she was still on live TV.
"Calm yourself, dear." David behind her called in his smooth voice. "His time will come. For now, let us continue. There are people who need to face judgement."
One of the other people with them reached behind his back and pulled out a handgun, which he loaded.
"Show them we mean…" David started, but stopped in the middle. People weren't paying attention anymore anyway.
A large explosion rang through the air, coming from the top of one of the taller buildings, slightly crumbling it in the process.
It was a bright golden flash, blinding the people below. Then a figure started floating over, engulfed in gold, as only the Golden God could be.
But it wasn't. The person who landed was not the tall, handsome young man. This was child, wearing a green gi, but with unmistakable glowing golden hair.
Not unlike the Delivery Boy at the Cell Games.
There was a tangible silence as the kid landed. "Stop." He said, with a surprisingly calm and level voice.
"And who are you?" David asked, sounding eerily calm.
"A friend of Gohan's." The child replied. "Do you have any idea how angry he is going to be when he hears about this? It will make your so-called Day of Vengeance look tame. And that is still nothing compared to what my father will do if he gets angry."
"Oh, please." The man grinned. He actually grinned. "We are enacting the will of the Golden God. If you try to stop us, you will be the one who faces his wrath."
"That is a lie and you know it!" The kid returned.
'Wait, what is going on here?' Angela suddenly wondered. 'This kid was clearly like Gohan, so why is David talking back to him?'
"Are you calling me, the chosen prophet of the Golden God, a liar?" He asked, sounding angry. Yet Angela could tell it was an act.
"Yes." The kid replied unfazed. "I am."
"Annoying." He grimaced. "Let's have a few words in private." He walked up to the glowing kid, and went on one knee to come face to face with him. He continued too softly for the cameras to catch, but Angela, who was standing closely, could hear them.
"I know your secret." The man said in a soft but threatening tone. "Either you play along or I will expose you."
"Which one?" The kid asked unflinchingly.
"What?" David was taken aback.
"Which secret do you know?" Golden Boy asked him. "We have tons."
"All of them." The man stated.
"I doubt that. If you did, you wouldn't be talking to me like that." The kid replied with a cocky grin.
"Oh, trust me, I do." David said in a low tone very uncharacteristic of him. "And don't bother threatening me, I know how your tricks work, they can't affect me."
'Wait, tricks?' Angela was frozen to the spot, feeling fear clutch her heart. 'What is going on here? Why is he talking about it being tricks? Isn't he the chosen prophet of Gohan?'
"Do you now?" The kid continued, an amused smile on his lips. "And what will you do?"
"I want you to bring this so-called Golden God a message." David continued. "I can work the masses with ease. If he tries to work against me, I will destroy him. But if he plays along, we can all walk away rich."
"Rich?" The boy repeated, tilting his head ever so slightly.
"Oh, yes." The man nodded with a confident smile. "Very rich."
This made the boy grin. "But you made a mistake. You tried to bluff me. If you know who I am, then you would know what I can do."
"That won't work, I know what you really are." The man said annoyed.
"No, you don't." The kid said, equally annoyed. He swung his hand as if to make a lazy swat at a fly. He didn't even make contact. Yet the man was flung away, flying a few meters and skidding across the wood for a few more.
"Oops, that was too much." The kid shrugged.
Angela looked at David on the ground. 'Did he just really… but he wasn't he chosen… but… Gohan had…'
She looked back to the kid who so casually flicked him away. He said Gohan would be angry with them. She believed she was doing what Gohan wanted. But if that guy… he suddenly said something that went against everything he said so far.
"We can all walk away rich." As if he never believed in the first place.
"Do you have any idea how angry he is going to be when he hears about this?" She remembered the kid saying.
They were in very deep trouble. She turned to her father, who was still standing by the other prisoners. But the moment she did so, the golden kid flashed in front of her.
"And where do you think you're going?" He asked her. "Gohan is on his way here."
"He is?" Her throat clenched, and her voice came out as a squeal.
Behind her, David had gotten up, only a scratch on his elbow. "Now you listen here, kid!" He was no longer pretending to be nice. Gone was his smooth voice. It sent shivers down Angela's spine.
"Or what, you'll badmouth me?" The kid returned.
"Or you will incur the wrath of the Golden God!" The man threatened.
"He's coming, why don't you ask him yourself?" The kid asked, pointing over his shoulder.
A low noise, not unlike rolling thunder, rang through the air, and could be felt in the ground.
"Correction, he's here." The kid stated.
Eyes went up to the sky, from where the sound seemed to have came from, looking for the familiar bright golden light.
There was no such thing, though there were a few dark clouds making their way across the sky, even though there were not supposed to be any at all.
And a small figure, dark in contrast with the bright blue sky, moved towards the podium.
Only a few seconds later someone set down just by the golden kid.
No glowing hair, it was raven-black. No piercing teal eyes, they were as dark as always. He was wearing a purple gi, accented with red and blue, showing off his muscled arms and chest.
Son Gohan, in his Human form, had made his appearance.
He looked left, then right, letting his eyes slide over the row of tied down prisoners.
He didn't speak, and no one else dared either. If it had been quiet before, it was nothing compared to the silence now, as many people didn't even dare breathe.
It was clear that there was only one person there who had the right to speak.
He turned to look at Angela. She felt her knees shake, barely able to keep standing. His glance was not one of anger nor praise. They held no joy, no sadness, no kindness. Nothing but pure disappointment.
And it was this visible disappointment that froze her over, and made her knees tremble.
He didn't look for long, as he looked back to the prisoners.
"Let them go." He said, finally breaking the silence.
At once, the people that followed David jumped into action, cutting ropes as if their lives depended on it. Perhaps it did.
"What are you doing?" David had regained the use of his voice. "Those are our examples."
"Examples of what, exactly?" Gohan asked him, sounding calm and level.
"Of what happens when you defy the Golden God." David replied without blinking.
"I see." He said. For a moment it seemed it became darker, but it was just a cloud passing in front of the sun. "Though I do not remember giving such an order."
David scowled at him, with an expression that said 'Work with me here.'. "Dude, listen." He said in a low voice. "You got a major gig going on here, but you clearly don't know what to do with it. You'll need me if you want to profit properly from it."
"Profit?" Gohan repeated, sounding angry, finally using another tone than that calm and level one. "Do you think I'm after profit? And more so, do you believe I wanted to show myself?" He raised his voice for all to hear.
Angela noticed a small wind picking up, as it rustled her orange hair.
"I know your tricks, don't bother threatening me!" David hissed. "Either you work with me, or I will destroy you!"
Gohan stepped by him, not even bothering with a reply, paying the man no more heed. Instead, he looked down at the prime piece of their show, Mr. Satan, who was still tied up.
"Here." He said, as he simply tore the thick ropes off. "Can you stand?"
"I think so." Hercule replied, a little frightful, but also relieved. "Listen, I… I'm sorry. For everything."
"Sorry?" David came in between. "That's it? You're sorry? Do you think you can get off just by giving an apology?"
Hercule looked down in shame. "I don't have anything else to give."
"You damn right, and you deserve everyth…"
"Shut up!" Gohan interrupted him.
"Just kill him." The kid suggested from the back. The casual way he suggested it sent chills down Angela's back.
"You are not Son Gohan!" David then declared. Angela wondered what that guy was doing. Did he honestly believe he could talk down to Gohan and get away with it? Did he honestly believe all of those things he had seen were just trickery?
"You are an impostor, here to take advantage of the goodwill of the people!" He accused.
'No that's you!' Angela thought, feeling her anger bubbling up. Realisation was starting to catch up, and with it a hatred she had never felt before. This hypocritical bastard had been pretending to be Gohan's servant, lulled the people into thinking they were doing the bidding of the Golden God, even condemning other people to death.
All of this just to get rich!
If Gohan hadn't been there, Angela would have loved tearing into him. But she was an accomplice, an unwitting one, but one nonetheless, and it was not her place to speak. Not with a physical god here.
Said god didn't as much as flinch. In fact, he didn't show any emotion at all.
Perhaps it would have been easier if he had.
"Don't be fooled by his calm face." In this time, the glowing kid had walked up next to her. She hadn't even noticed him. "Gohan is livid right now."
"H… how do you know?" She asked, hoping he wouldn't get angry at her. 'Should I kneel? Should I have knelt when he got here?'
"Just a feeling." The kid shrugged, not even looking at her anymore.
"A feeling?" Angela picked up. This struck something in her memory. "You mean like feeling lifeforce?"
"Wait, you know about that?" He looked surprised.
"Gohan said something about that a while back." She explained herself quickly.
"Well, it's not exactly… forget it." The kid changed his mind. "Yes, I can sense it, and with it the emotions it carries. Like I can feel your fear right now."
In this time, Gohan and David had a little staring contest.
"And who do you think you are?" Gohan finally asked.
"I am the prophet of the Golden God." David replied loudly. "I speak to him through dreams and visions." He started. Then he let his eyes roll back, and turned his face to the sky. "The Golden God is giving me a vision." He claimed.
"Heh!" The Golden Kid sounded from the sidelines. "Is he telling you you're full of shit?"
David ignored it. "He says you are an evil worker, here to lead us astray from the path!" He called in a dramatic voice.
Angela couldn't help but feel disgusted. It was the very same voice he had used so often, and had her cling to his lips. Now it fuelled her anger.
Another cloud passed by the sun, and this time the sun didn't return. Angela looked up, and saw many dark clouds gathering overhead. But today was supposed to be sunny. Now there was barely a spot of blue left.
And it seemed to get colder as well, though it might just be the wind.
"You are interfering in his judgement!" David then declared.
"Judgement?!" Gohan spat, his calm face breaking. "Do you call this justice? Innocent people dragged out of their homes to be executed without trial solely for what they believe? What have they ever done to you?"
A low rumble echoed, this time actual thunder, coming from above. It seemed to be getting darker as the clouds were getting thicker.
"The Golden God does not impose himself on us." David spoke, but his voice betrayed his insecurity. "He wishes us to place justice upon those who wronged him."
"Justice." Gohan repeated, looking disgusted. "On what ground?"
"What?" David was once again thrown for a loop.
"On what ground are you judging him?" Gohan asked, his voice low and threatening.
"For his crimes against the Golden God!" The fake prophet declared.
"Such as?"
"Stealing the accomplishment of the Golden God himself and using his fame to gain himself riches." David replied. Oh, the hypocrite.
"Where were you during the Cell Games?" Gohan then asked.
"What?"
"You heard me!" He declared.
"I was at my home watching the TV." David replied, clearly not understanding.
"I see." Gohan replied, and turned around, looking at Angela's father now. "And where were you during the Cell Games?"
"At my parent's." He replied, also not understanding.
"And you?" He addressed her.
"With my father."
"And where were you?" He then asked another cultist.
One by one, everyone declared they were someplace safe, watching the Cell Games on the TV. After he was done, Gohan walked back to the middle of the podium.
"Now, can anyone tell me where Hercule Satan was during the Cell Games?" He asked.
Silence. Finally people understood what he was getting at. Most people looked down in shame, but no one replied.
And someone was going to have to, Gohan had asked a question, and him becoming even angrier, well, let's not think about that.
Summoning her courage, Angela spoke up. "At the Cell Games." She said softly.
"Indeed." Gohan replied. "When the world was in danger, when Cell had proven himself to be a global threat, while all of you were hiding in your comfortable homes and watching the TV in the hope someone else would save you, Hercule showed up to fight. He was ready to risk it all for the sake of the world. If you were not there that day, you have no right to judge him!"
"He has stolen from the world, and he will face the consequences." David addressed him. "As will you, impostor!"
Did he really believe Gohan was an impostor? Angela doubted it. He was a man who was clinging to the beliefs of trickery, to justify himself and his claims.
But who was she to judge? A few weeks ago she would have laughed in Gohan's face if he told her the truth.
A flash went off overhead, and a low crackle followed.
'Is he doing that?' Angela suddenly wondered. 'Is he really that powerful, to do that while being in his Human form?' She looked up at the gathering clouds. 'Or is it a side effect, a reflection of his emotions?' She looked back at the boy in question. 'If so, then just how powerful is he?'
"And I suppose you will be the one to enact these consequences, in my name no less?" Gohan asked him. The wind was starting to pick up, reminding Angela of the day he revealed his power to the world. "You would have him, and all of these other people, convicted for fraud, when you yourself have lied and deceived for your own personal gain. You condemned them to death so you could get rich."
Gohan's tone was starting to get louder. "You abused the trust people put in you, and were ready to drop them the moment you no longer needed them! You are taking advantage of the confusion to set yourself up at the cost of everyone around you!"
"I am the prophet of the Golden God!" David yelled back. "And you will respect me, or he himself will…" He stopped when a clash of lightning hit the lightning rod of a nearby building, momentarily flashing the entire place in bright pink, and the loud crackle echoed many times off the nearby buildings.
Only now did the people realise how much darker it had become, as the thick clouds were blocking out the sun.
It took a few seconds for the noise to die down. Long seconds. David stood as if petrified, fear now plainly visible on his face.
"How dare you?!" Gohan had dropped the calm attitude, and now spoke with a seething rage, his gentle face disfigured by a grimace, his dark eyes flickering. "What made you think you could get away with this?!"
He swung his hand for emphasis, creating a gust of wind that blew people off their feet.
"I never wanted any of this!" He called loudly. "Who gave you the right to judge in my name?!"
The crack of thunder rang, as no less than four lightning bolts hit the nearby buildings within a split second. The flashes lit up the entire area in a pink hue before everything became darker again.
The wind was violent now, making it harder to breathe.
"No, please!" The man fell to his knees, barely audible over the echoing rumbles of the thunder. "I was only trying to bring your justice to these wrongdoers, I never tried to gain anything."
Gohan didn't reply immediately, he didn't even look at the man. He had his eyes, closed, and took a few deep breaths.
Then he opened them again, and lowered them to the shivering figure on the ground. "Even now you try to lie your way out." He replied using that tranquel voice again. "You want my justice? I charge you with crimes against humanity, fraud, persuading others to commit manslaughter. You will be tried by the courts. The government. As it should be!"
He turned his back on the self-proclaimed prophet. A few of the more brave former followers grabbed David by the arms and dragged him along.
Gohan stood silently for a moment.
"What is wrong with you people?" He then asked, no one in particular. "I have fought battles the likes of which you can not even imagine. I have sacrificed years of my life to keep this planet safe. And what did you do? You let yourselves be consumed by greed, committing crime after crime, breaking the peace I worked so hard to gain."
He no longer sounded angry, just sad. Hurt, even, matching his facial expression.
"I've heard preaches about righting wrongs, but what came off it? I have taken a look at many of these so-called rightings. The money that belonged to Hercule Satan was seized in my name, but I never saw a zeni of it! Not just his personal accounts, but the money of his companies, charities, even his daughter's trust fund, it all went into the pockets of a few people! And they called it justice!
How many people have been taking advantage of the confusion to better themselves at the cost of others?
How many times have people invoked the name of the Golden God to justify taking whatever they want?
Many times I have been asked what it is I want. What I want is for this senseless fighting to stop. Cooperate instead of fighting over everything.
Is that really so hard?"
A few drops started falling from the sky, soon followed by many more, as the dark clouds overhead started to release their holdings.
Gohan turned to the Golden Kid. "Take him to… your place." He gestured to Hercule. The kid nodded, took Hercule under the arm, and took off.
As did Gohan.
Bulma crossed her arms, not having missed a single thing, thanks to the cameras that were broadcasting everything worldwide.
This had not been a good way for Gohan to express himself, and would probably not go the way he had in mind.
Not to mention he kind off blamed the entirety of humanity for the acts of the few.
But in the end, Gohan was only just a teenager, and this was a matter close to his heart.
She thought about his words. Specifically about the part where he mentioned Hercule's money being seized, and people abusing his name for their own ends.
No matter how she looked at it, it just didn't fit.
These were symptoms, not causes.
End of Chapter
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