A/N: This chapter seemed to flow better in my head, and I'm not personally too happy with how it came out, but hopefully at least a few of you enjoy this latest update.
Warrior Instincts
Ch.19- The dark knight descends
"Evil Containment Wave!"
"No! Not this time, human!"
The whole world seemed to be lost in an eerie shroud of green then, and Krillin watched from his place in the dirt as both Master Roshi and King Piccolo seemed to get swallowed up by the elderly martial artist's attack.
A hideous whaling noise filled the air and Krillin felt an unpleasant tingle race down his spine as it rang in his ears, yet the young teen forced his eyes to stay focused on the battle of wills before him.
He needed to see his teacher be victorious.
Suddenly though there was a loud boom, and a concussive explosion ripped through the surrounding streets. Krillin flinched as a piece of debri struck him in the forehead, but he did his best to ignore the pain even as a steady stream of blood oozed from the wound.
Finally, all was silent, and even the noises of the city stopped as if waiting for the big reveal. Though Krillin was sure it had more to do with the people's fear for the unknown origin of the ruckus.
The cloud of dust that Roshi's sealing technique kicked up had begun to dissipate though, and in the remaining shroud one could begin to make out a single figure standing in its shade…
A tall figure.
'No...no, it c-can't be!'
One who, as the cloudy blanket was lifted, wore a sadistically excited grin that showed off a set of vicious fangs.
'How!? Master said that technique was unbeatable! H-How could he still be standing!?'
And then that's when he saw it.
There, lying in a bloody heap at Piccolo's feet, was the dead body of Muten Roshi.
The man's face was a twisted mask of agony and pain, with a crimson stream staining his goatee and a gaping hole punched through Roshi's sternum.
Krillin felt his heart break at the sight and he began to cry, but the young fighter forced himself to choke back his own sobs at the realization Piccolo hadn't actually spotted him yet.
The demon probably assumed he was dead.
So, pressing his face painfully into the street and locking his shoulders so they didn't shake, Krillin was forced to listen as his master's murderer goatee about his victory before flying off.
"Perfect! I wasn't sure my arm would stretch far enough in time, but it worked! And now, with the last of the humans who know about that despicable technique out of the way my rule over this planet is assured!"
Piccolo's vile laughter rang in Krillin's ears long after the villain blasted off into the sky, and it would be another half-hour before the young man would find the strength to climb to his feet.
Cradling Roshi's lifeless corpse in his arms, Krillin wept even as he picked up the anguished cries of West City's citizens
He'd failed, his master had failed…
And now the Earth was doomed.
The heartbreak of the dream followed poor Krillin into the waking world even as he was being shaken awake.
"Krillin, hey, get up you idiot this is important!"
"G-Go away, I'm not in the mood right now."
Bulma's eyes narrowed before she reeled back and slapped the young man in the head.
"Well, get in the mood, moron! This is serious!"
"Ow! Bulma what the hell!? Why don't you bother someone else?"
"Because I need the strongest fighter we've got, and since Goku still isn't here yet that leaves me with you!"
Krillin rubbed his sore noggin while sitting up in the cot he'd laid out on the floor, the young warriors face a mask of agitation and sadness.
"Goku's not here cause he knows he can't win either, I've told you that a million times in the last two weeks, how much longer before you just accept it!?"
Bulma's nostrils flared as she grabbed a fistful of Krillin's tank top.
"And I've told you to keep your opinions to yourself! Now quit moping and get up; you need to hear this!"
Groaning as the blue-haired girl stood back and waited for him, Krillin finally forced himself to do as she asked, stretching as he heated himself to his feet.
"There, I'm up, now whatdya want Bulma?"
She'd been up late again, he could see it in the bags under her eyes and the way her once shimmering hair now stuck out like a bird nest.
Yet there was an alertness in that half-lidded gaze, and even as she covered up with a stained crop top and cargo pants Bulma Briefs still managed to be the most beautiful woman in the room.
A hard thing to notice though when one's eyes were instead drawn to the various rifles and handguns strapped to her slender, sexy body.
"I was up early this morning, checking the radio feeds from other survival camps, and I found out that there's going to be another offering to King Piccolo at Kanzai Stadium this afternoon!"
Krillin flinched at the news; there seemed to be an 'offering' every day.
"H-How many this time?"
"A hundred; half of them are believed to be children."
"Damn it!"
Bulma folded her arms, "So you see why I wanted you up? Krillin I'm serious, you're these people's only hope right now. With Tien off fighting alone and the twins still recovering from his assault on my house, there's just no one else strong enough to stand up to those monsters!"
"Well what about you? I've seen you take them out with your weapons before, why don't you go out there and-"
"And get myself killed!? Don't be an idiot! My way only works when they aren't paying attention! Besides, the twins aren't in any shape to protect me against so many at once right now; Kami above what's gotten into you!?"
"I'm afraid alright!?"
Bulma jolted at the sheer volume of Krillin's anger and self-loathing before the area went quiet.
They'd hunkered down in her family's nuclear shelter under the house, and that's to the floor design weren't in any danger of being discovered unless one of Piccolo's spawn literally watched them use the exit.
This allowed Krillin to unleash the full brunt of his pain and anger without worrying they'd be discovered.
"I watched the strongest fighter I know try everything in his power to stop that...that monster, and it wasn't even close to enough! If Master Roshi didn't stand a chance against them, then what hope do I have Bulma!?"
The disheveled genius just narrowed her eyes at the younger teen though.
"I'm not telling you to beat them Krillin, I'm asking you to help those children escape! Piccolo isn't even at the stadium right now, I'm sure together we can take on whoever is though; you've beaten that freak's minions before!"
"But what if I can't this time!? O-Or what if you're wrong and Piccolo is there; we'll both die!"
Bulma threw her hands up and hollered, but then a new voice called from the doorway.
"Forget about him Bulma, I'll go with you."
Yamcha was leaning against the frame, his arms crossed and showing off a series of bandages wrapped around the former bandit's bicep. He'd been quick to find her after Piccolo's army began to descend upon Earth, and made a vow to protect the blue-haired beauty at all costs.
However, seeing her admirer left a nauseous feeling in Bulma's gut. She'd avoided asking the scruffy young man because the Capsule Corp. heiress didn't trust Yamcha to keep her alive! Just remembering how he got those bandages made Bulma worry for her own safety.
Sadly, it would seem he was the blue-haired beauty's only hope, so with a growl Bulma sent one last glare at Krillin.
"Fine! Be a coward! I'll go and save those people, you just wait here and cry in the corner for the day our luck runs out and one of them does find this place."
She made it to the door before stopping one last time, not even bothering to look over her shoulder as she told the former monk:
"You used to act like Goku's rival, right? Well, what do you think he'd do right now?"
With that, Bulma shut the door and left the bald teen to stew in his thoughts.
xXx
'I know what I said, but this is still fucking crazy,' the female genius berated herself as she carefully moved through the streets.
The offerings took place all over the globe, but Bulma quickly noticed that more often than not Piccolo preferred to keep himself centered around Japan. To her, it seemed as though he feared the uprising of the martial arts community as a whole, and wanted to keep it stamped out.
Yet for whatever his reasoning, Bulma prayed just this once that the monster was off in another part of the world so that it gave her time to slip in and out of Kanzai Stadium. The bigger problem though, was that this would be Bulma's first rescue attempt with only Yamcha for backup..
'It doesn't help that idiot Tien decides he's better off fighting them all by himself! What a moron! He can't seriously think he's a match for King Piccolo after what Krillin's told me!'
However this raised another question as Bulma dove into the shadows of an alley to avoid being spotted by one of the spawn who could fly…
What chance did she have if left all alone?
Another tidbit Bulma had theorized was that Piccolo shared a mental link with all he sired, since the fierce demon seemed to always show up after one of them were slain.
'That means I've got maybe thirty minutes to get in and get out of there,' she calculated as the stadium came into view.
But even this depended on just where King Piccolo was in the moment she started the rescue. So they needed to be quick, and as quiet as possible if there was any hope of saving the citizens trapped in Kanzai.
So with the first pair of goons in sight, Bulma checked the silencers on her weapons and set her watch before taking aim.
In 3…2…1…
Thwack! Thwack!
Hardly a second passed between each shot, but even as the monster's bodies dropped to the pavement Bulma waited another five seconds to make sure everything was clear before rushing up towards the entrance.
"Bulma," Yamcha hissed as they moved, "do you know where the people are being kept?"
"Considering there's so many, my guess would be that Piccolo's goons are stashing them in the field."
"B-But that means-"
"I know what it means lunk-head; that's why I needed someone to come with me! Now just shut up before your loud whining gets us caught."
With Yamcha taking point the two scurried through the arena as quietly as they could, doing their best to push the sound of children crying far from their minds while keeping an eye out for any enemies that may be patrolling the halls.
For Bulma, making it to the cheap seats so easily made her nervous. But as she peeked out from behind a wall to see the field those feelings turned to fury and disgust.
"I thought I told you to keep that brat quiet!"
She watched as a mother shielded her blanket-wrapped baby from the snarling gaze of Piccolo's spawn, the infant's cries having been the same Bulma had heard moments before.
"I'm trying," the mother sobbed, "b-but you're scaring her! Please, can't you just let us go; what have we ever done to any of you!?"
"Shut your mouth human! I've had just about enough of you and that disgusting sack of flesh you call a 'child'; maybe you'll learn to be a little more quiet in the next dimension!"
"No," she screamed while the monster raised his claws into the air, "please, no! Somebody, anybody, help us!"
'Thwack'
With her eyes closed, the mother didn't see the way her would-be killer's body stiffened or the bloody hole that now colored his pasty green forehead. It wasn't until she no longer felt the monster's cold shadow, and heard something drop like a rock to the ground, that the woman dared to open her eyes.
Dead. The creature who'd been ready to send her and her baby to the great beyond, was instead laying face-down in the turf with blood pooling under a gaping mouth full of fangs.
Instantly, every other monster keeping watch over the imprisoned humans jumped into an uproar at the slaughter of their kin. They turned their eyes up towards the stadium seats, and each of the scaly-faced demons snarled as a single human came leaping down at them.
"Why don't you freaks pick on somebody your own size!?"
But even as he challenged them Yamcha could feel his heart in his throat, and the way his knees shook as he looked around at the small army of enemies staring back at him. Only the knowledge that running would leave Bulma defenseless kept the former bandit from abandoning Kanzi Stadium's prisoners to their fate.
"I don't know who you think you are, human, but you're about to suffer dearly for what you've just done!"
"When we're through with you, you'll beg for death!"
The former bandit did his best to look confident as he shifted into a fighting stance, making sure to keep each opponent in sight while calling up every ounce of power sleeping within himself.
"We'll see about that, you group of overgrown goblins! If you had any idea of who you're about to mess with, you'd all be screaming for Piccolo to come save your sorry butts; Yamcha the Desert Bandit stands above all!"
Grins and mocking chuckles were the response of Piccolo's spawn as they slowly began to creep in, closing Yamcha into a tight circle. He couldn't feel their power, but over the last two weeks Yamcha had discovered that each of Piccolo's 'children' were at least equal in strength to himself at their weakest. Hearing horror stories from Krillin back at the bunker however, the former bandit swallowed hard as he prayed none of these monsters were as powerful as the one known as 'Tamborine'.
A move from his peripheral drew Yamcha's attention away from his fears though, and soon enough the young man was leaping into the air so as not to be smashed by an elbow to the skull. Flipping over the circle of demos, Yamcha landed shakely on his feet before finding himself about to be overrun by Piccolo's spawn!
"Raha-Argh!"
"Grah!"
"Nrgh!"
Underneath their own battle cries and lust for blood, Drum and his brethren were too focused on their prey to notice Bulma up in the stands taking aim until it was too late. Unloading her rifle from above, the blue-haired genius managed to thin her allies' enemies by half before they got their guards up and the bullets bounced off of them.
"You two take the scrawny human," Drum ordered, "I'll head up and see about that sneaky little mosquito giving us trouble!"
Hearing this, Yamcha's eyes go wide and he lashes out at the two monsters charged to keep him busy.
"No!"
But it was too late. Drum's powerful legs pushed him off the ground and up into the bleachers before propelling the rotund fiend the rest of the way so that he soon stood before a crouching Bulma.
The teen beauty's own eyes filled with shock at being discovered so quickly before they narrowed, and Capsule Corps' heiress swapped her gun for a sticky grenade.
"Eat this, freak!"
With the explosive flying through the air between them, Bulma threw herself over the stadium seats and skipped down the bleachers like stones in a river while hitting a button on the wrist-mounted terminal she explosion that followed was hot against her back, and the stench of burnt flesh made the young woman want to puke, but Bulma shoved all those discomforts from her mind and simply pushed to get as far away from her enemy as possible.
'Because there's no way that was enough to stop him!'
And, seemingly to agree, Drum's furious cries came echoing from within the ball of fire he'd been swallowed by.
"Damn you! Filthy wench; I'll fucking kill you for that!"
"Shit!"
"Bulma, get over here, hurry!"
Her eyes were blazing with indignation as she leap-frogged over another set of seats to finally make it onto the turf, "What the hell do you think I'm trying to do!? You think I'm running like this for my health, moron!?"
Just as Bulma managed to stride to safety behind her fellow freedom fighter, their enemy came barreling down at them with bloodshot eyes, and fangs glistening when Drum noticed both of his kin had been defeated.
"Your pals weren't much of a challenge," Yamcha puffed out his chest as he made sure to stand resolutely in front of the girl he fancied, "so what makes a freakshow like you think they'll stand any better chance?"
"If that's how you feel; how about I give it a try?"
A cold shiver ran up Bulma's spine as that voice echoed in her ear, and she could see the way Yamcha's muscles tensed at the same time.
The pit in her stomach grew, and with every ounce of willpower she could muster Bulma turned her gaze skyward...and felt her heart stop at what she found.
His large, muscular form hovered high above the stadium, with shadows playing across the green scourge's goblin-like face, but there was no denying who had finally arrived.
King Piccolo.
Cold, cruel laughter filled the arena then as humanity's worst nightmare began to descend upon the captured citizens.
"I'll admit to being impressed though; you lot have lasted far longer than I'd ever imagined. But it's truly a futile effort, because soon you'll all be nothing but food for me and my children!"
"N-Not if I have anything to say about it!"
Piccolo sneered in taunting delight as he stared down his latest 'challenger', a feeling of deep satisfaction welling up within at just the thought of what sorts of torment he would soon inflict upon this entire stadium.
'But first, the boy.'
"It's funny; I'm getting a bit of deja vu. What is it about this woman, that the men of your pathetic species are so quick to put themselves between she and I?"
The fiend's large, yellow eyes flickered over to his spawn for a moment, "I'm any case Drum, I want you to stay out of this until I say otherwise; these two are mine."
Yamcha just did his best to steady his breathing, opening and closing both fists as he stared down the very monster who defeated a legend like Muten Roshi.
"Hmm, what's this, cat got your tongue? No matter, I'd much rather hear you scream!"
The speed his enemy moved at was well beyond what Diablo Desert's bandit could follow, and soon enough the young man had a mouthful of blood as he felt Piccolo's giant fist crash against his face.
"Argh!"
"Yamcha!"
Bulma ducked out from behind the stricken martial artist, diving to the ground and rolling in the dirt as she unclipped a pistol from her waist.
"Nice try, fool!"
A wall of invisible force slammed the young woman like a train and sent her rolling back with a cry of pain before she could even fire a shot.
"Leave her alone!"
Yamcha's aura flared with his rage and he rushed Piccolo in a blind frenzy. Fists and legs swung wildly, but the man's enemy simply scoffed as he easily danced away from each and every strike.
"So then, this is what's left of the martial arts community," Piccolo grabbed Yamcha's fist, "what a pitiful display; and to think, I used to fear what your kind was capable of."
'CRACK'
"AAAARGH!"
With a single squeeze Yamcha's hand was shattered, and he dropped to his knees as he wailed in agony. Tears quickly filled the man's eyes, and as Piccolo switched to slowly crushing his skull those cries turned to sobs of pain and fear.
"No, stop! Please! I-I don't wanna die like this! PLEASE!"
"Then you should have thought about that before getting in my way!"
Piccolo felt the tips of his claws begin to sink into the human's skull, the flesh giving way and warm blood coating the monster's fingertips.
This new pain sent Yamcha's heart slamming against his ribs, and snot trailed down the former bandit's nose as he made a pitiful attempt to free himself.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please spare me!"
"Not a chance," Piccolo chuckled darkly, "you wouldn't even be good enough to feed to my children. You've made your bed, now it's time to sleep in it...forever!"
With his prey screaming and the hunger for the chance to further humiliate him filling Piccolo's brain, he didn't notice the movement out of the corner of his eye, never realizing that Drum's own gaze was solely focused on watching Yamcha's agony as well.
'Thwack'
"RRRAAAWWW!"
So when Bulma finally managed to turn over, and see beyond the blood dripping into her eye, the single shot she took at King Piccolo's side went completely unnoticed until it was too late.
The second those claws left him, Yamcha fell on his side nearly unconscious from the pain, with only Piccolo's snarling to echo in the former bandit's ears.
For the Demon King, his pupils nearly vanished and a vein pulsed steadily against the giant's forehead as he turned to stare hatefully at the one who'd wounded him.
"You!"
"Ah!"
Poor Bulma didn't even have a chance to think about escaping before she was snagged by Piccolo's extended arm; those claws shredding through her shirt as he dragged the girl forward.
A second later they were face-to-face, and the heiress struggled not to vomit from the stench of raw meat wafting on every breath that left Piccolo's lips.
"Had I known what a literal thorn you'd be in my side, I'd have killed you that first day we crossed paths. But don't worry; I'll fix that now~"
Bulma's small, gloved hands came up and wrapped their slender fingers around the thick muscles of her captor's forearm, desperate to free herself as he broke out into a chorus of hideous laughter.
By now the people who'd been captured had long since fled, leaving only a broken fighter and helpless heiress to drown under the dark aura of King Piccolo.
Or so they thought.
"If you don't get your hands off of her, you'll have more than just a thorn in your side to worry about, fool."
'That voice!'
It was one she'd grown fond of, to the point that even as he spoke like an emissary of death itself Bulma's heart still fluttered at the sound of it.
And as she looked up beyond Piccolo's hulking mass, the heiress of Capsule Corp could make out the silhouette of his growing muscles and wild dark hair.
A tail flicked restlessly from side-to-side, and there was a stern mask of displeasure settled neatly over his face.
Yet it was the eyes that did it for Bulma.
As behind a wall of cold fire she noticed the warming light of protection, and a promise to keep her safe that had been struck over a year ago on their first meeting…
"G-Goku."
xXx