"Are you okay?" Miguel gave the boy one of the cups of cocoa the officers handed them.

"Y-yeah! I'm a tough guy! I don't cry at nothing, I'm…" The boy, a young Hercule, trembled.

Miguel smiled sadly, "It's alright, I understand, that was a really scary man, wasn't it? Why did you make fun of his hair?"

The boy looked down in shame. He had been feeling great lately. Despite being only 14, he was a world champion boxer, MMA fighter, professional wrestler, and a sumo wrestler. He was Hercule, the strongest kid in the world. He turned to the body bag containing his master, head of the Satan Dojo. To celebrate his recent win, they went to Orange City's best restaurant. "Le Pet de Fromage et Le trou Du Caca Brûlant." There, they ate and discussed Hercule's future.

"Kid, you've really done amazing, you've made our gym proud." The man, named Damon, smiled.

"Hahaha! You know me, boss! It was nothing, just showed them the old Satan classic!" Mark got out from the chair and began shadowboxing. To any amateurs, his moves seemed expert. To an expert, Hercule was definitely better than average, especially for a kid, but most definitely not a master. Despite that, Hercule was born with monstrous strength, for a human of course, which carried him through most of the human-only sports, and even a few human/animal person competitions. Damon noticed his talents and recruited Hercule to the Satan Dojo. There, he taught Hercule a great number of martial arts and pro-wrestling moves. In many ways, Hercule was more of a performer than an actual martial artist, but because of his power, he won against actual fighters, making him a multi-city household name.

"Hercule, I think it's time for you to enter the big leagues."

Hercule had been in the middle of listening in to the new singer, a young and pretty girl by the name of Miguel when his coach turned to him. "Huh?" Mark was confused, he was already world-famous, wasn't he? "What big leagues?"

Damon took a sip of gin, "it's a trade secret amongst the fighters, what have you done? It's great, real major league stuff, but there's something even greater, the Super Major Leagues, fighters that'll put your opponents to shame kid, I think you're ready Mark."

"Pft, more like, you've been protecting them from me. What exactly is this thing anyway?"

"In less than three months we'll have the 23rd Budokai Tenkaichi, legendary martial artists who find all of the challenges you've gone through beneath them will attend, the prize money is no joke either, but man oh man, it's all about the connections and prestige. It's always been my dream to either win this thing or send someone to the championship."

"Well then, in 2 months your dream will come true." Hercule burst out laughing.

"Can you shut up?" A voice interrupted the two cajoling friends. "I'm trying to listen to that sonorous singing voice."

The two men turned to see another man-eating spaghetti and scallops. He wore a pink long coat and had a ponytail.

"Pft, shut up, it's a free continent." Hercule blew raspberries at the man.

"How about you take yourself and your ugly hair cut out of here unless you have a death wish." Damon grouwled.

Tao PaiPai reacted to the insult almost calmly, he walked over to the two, stabbed Damon in the chest, and broke Hercule's arm before the latter could react.

"...I messed up."

"How did you mess up? What kind of psycho kills someone for making fun of their hair? It's one thing to beat the crap out of them." Jazz walked towards them.

"Jazz!" Miguel ran over to give him a hug. "It's been so long! Look at you! You've gotten taller! And your hair!"

Mark gave Jazz a suspicious look, he was wearing a gold and green shirt of similar design to Mercenary Tao's. "Who are you?" He asked.

Miguel turned, "oh! I'm so sorry, I forgot, I am Miguel, this is a good friend of mine, Jazz." She turned to Jazz, "this is my new friend, his name is…"

"Hercule, but my opponents and fans call me Mr. Satan after I've beaten them. So you'll have to call me that too." He puffed up his chest, trying to retain a smidgen of pride.

"Cool, nice to meet you Hercule." Jazz turned to Miguel, "your dad wanted to give you this letter."

Miguel's face lit up as she took the letter, in turn, Mark's face darkened.

'Yo… is he jealous?!' Jazz almost felt like laughing. He turned to look at Miguel, she had straight black hair and deep blue eyes. 'Oh, well, she is actually pretty cute, those eyes are almost as bright and colorful as Bulma's…' He turned to look at Mark, who looked away.

"Jazz!" Miguel asked "please, do come eat supper with me! I would like to introduce you to my aunt and to the city!"

Hercule could only watch helplessly as he was taken by a group of paramedics to the hospital. Jazz made note of the hospital it was heading to as he followed Miguel to the home her aunt stayed in. The woman, a tall stick of a woman with blonde hair and blue eyes seemed less than thrilled over the fact her niece brought a boy over, but on the assurance that Jazz was just a friend, and from what she heard of the fiasco in the bar, she was happy someone escorted Miguel back home, as her detail seemed to have fled upon Mercenary Tao's outburst.

"Hmph, you just can't get good help anymore." The woman, Seraphina, groaned in annoyance. "Those men won't be getting their money anymore." She took out her phone and began barking into it. As she did, Jazz and Miguel were conversing.

"I heard a bit of your singing, you were amazing." Jazz smiled lightly.

"Oh! Thanks!" Miguel blushed. "I've been practicing lots, and I don't want to let my dad down! He put in a lot of money, and Aunt Seraphina can be tough, but she's always by my side. Sometimes, the stuffy record label guys say they want to have a meeting with me and tell her she can't come, she talks to them in private and they agree to post the deals, but they always look so pale and terrified."

Jazz smiled strangely, "can you tell me the names of those pe… Promoters and Dealers?" He made mental notes of their names.

Eventually, the sunset and Miguel's aunt cut their talks short.

"Yes yes, it's time for my cute little angel to go to sleep, and her little friend can leave now."

"Aunty!" Miguel sounded genuinely upset by her aunt's brusqueness, but Jazz cut her off.

"My apologies, I was simply enjoying the atmosphere, it's been a long time since I've seen Miguel, and it's always a unique experience to catch up with an old friend." He put away his plates in the sink, and with expert precision, washed and arranged the dishes. "I do apologize." He bowed and left.

'Alright… well,' Jazz was in the form of Shenron, with a few key differences: instead of arms and legs, massive bird wings sprouted from his body, flapping and sailing in tandem like the undulating legs of a centipede or the rhythmic rowing of a Viking longship. He sailed through the night air nearly silently until he came across his first target.

Imaj Erkof sat in his living room, he was sipping a glass of wine and ruminating. "Damn… she is a beautiful singer, for one so young…" He sighed wistfully as he thought about the girl who had been in his office today. Miguel was a talented singer, and he could tell she would one day become a world hit. He often enjoyed having a taste of pleasure from talented young girls and ladies he knew would become famous, a byproduct of his own complicated past. Angrily, he put away his drink as he thought of the girl's aunt, Seraphina.

"Damn Bitch… so what your husband works for the fucking President, you know the nature of the business, if we all boycott her she's got no future unless she wags her tail a few times and begs for it." He snorted, "if only my associates weren't such cowards…"

"Better to be cowards than hell-bound…" A voice echoed throughout the room.

"WHAT THE!" Imaj screamed, who the hell are you?! Don't you know who I am?!"

"Imaj Erkof, 45-year-old business Mogul, self-proclaimed eternal bachelor, owner of Magic Hour Studios, and a gross pedophile."

"Oh?!" Imaj smirked, "What? Are you an angry fan?! Who is it, Helen Master? Myuki Troy? Ooh, is it Vegas Toledo? Pfft, you think you can scare me?" He reached for his emergency silent alarm, part of the city's police force was on his payroll, so whatever this person planned, it'd be over soon. "What are you using, some sort of microphone? I must say I'm surprised you were able to sneak in. Who sent you?"

"I came from Hell, you see, Erkof, misery loves company, so we'd love to speed up your trip."

Erkof scoffed and laughed, then the floor under him caught on fire. His shrill screams were drowned out by a deep, demonic roar, as bursting through the ceiling a massive demon came down. It was humanoid in shape and covered in thick hide and ribbed scales. It sported massive leathery wings and a thick corded tail with ridges like an alligator. Its legs curved like that of a beast, ending in massive three-toed claws. Despite being naked, it had no discernable markings of sex, no nipples, no groinal organs of any kind, and its face, simply an open-mouthed skull with fangs and curved ram-like horns was the stuff of nightmares. To make matters worse, the monster was on fire. No, to say it was on fire did not begin to cover it, the creature seemed to be partially made of fire, every time it tensed a muscle, flames seemed to billow out as if instead of blood, fire filled its veins. It spoke again, and this time, Erkof could make out two voices, that of a man and woman, though neither were kind.

"Erkof…" the voice began, "I so enjoyed watching your escapades? Do you know why?" The demon smiled, "I love watching humans pave their fall to hell, it fills me with great joy…" He shivered in joy, and reached a hand, lightning-fast, to grab the man.

"W-wait!" Erkof screamed, "I-I'll… I'll confess! Please! Let me repent! Let me Repent!"

The demon cocked its head. "Repent? Why would I let you do that?"

"A-aren't y-you supposed to give us a chance?!"

"Did you give your victims a chance?"

"I-I…"

"I thought not…"

"WAIT!" Erkof took out his phone quickly.

-"Orange City 911, what's the address of your emergency?"~

"Hello?" Erkof began fearfully.

-"Yes sir? What's your emergency?"

Erkof turned to the demon, who simply watched Erkof with interest.

"I'm…" Erkof swallowed painfully, "I'm turning myself in… I am Imaj Erkof, of Magic Hour Studios, I live on the corner of Red Street and Banana Road… I've… oh god…"

The demon grinned, causing Erkof to confess his crimes. He noticed, that as he confessed, the demon seemed to grow angrier and angrier, and smaller and smaller. "YES! I'm here, at my house! Take me away!"

-"The police are on their way, unlock your doors and allow them in, do not resist arrest."~

Erkof looked around, the demon was gone. He laughed, the only ones who knew were the operator and the cops who'd come, it wouldn't take too much to pay them off he thought.

A flaming claw appeared around his throat. "Lying already Imaj...cute, truly cute, I'm almost in love, in fact, seeing you gets me all excited, would you… like to satisfy me? It can take you places, there are things in hell you won't be able to experience without me Erkof…"

Erkof screamed and fainted. The demon, an almost perfect recreation of the Balrog from Lord of the Rings, smirked and disappeared in a cloud of dust, turning into a gnat and flying away. Jazz felt sick to his stomach. Before confronting Erkof he searched his home and found his personal computer. The password was… "password", so it was easy to get on and find all of Erkof's files and documents, which he quickly made copies of and emailed to a fake email he set up at Orange City Highschool's community area in their library. He also set up a hidden Polaroid video recorder in the corner of Imaj's main office where his computer was on display. The camera and sound quality were cheap, but it would be clear enough to hear the officers, hopefully, the man would say something to those officers that would make it easier to arrest him, and he'd attempt to come back the next night to take the camera.

"But… this is supposed to be Dragon Ball… right?" He was confused, Dragon Ball was a gag manga, how could something like this occur in a gag manga? But he then laughed at his own thoughts, at the very least, the people in front of him were real, even the green-skinned Namekians seemed real to him. "Damnit…" Jazz closed his eyes, "damnit!"

Jazz had nowhere to rest for the night, so he decided to fly to the roof of the apartment complex Miguel was in, he'd turn into a wolf or bear or something to handle the cold and exposure. As he neared the complex he narrowed his eyes. He heard the sounds of men shouting and crying out in pain, mixed with women screaming in terror. He traced the noise to Miguel's Aunt's apartment and burst in. What met him was a strange sight indeed.

Mark was covered in various wounds and bleeding all over, his broken arm was in a cast, and his knuckles were worn down. On the floor were several big, imposing men in dark-grey uniforms. The men were groaning in pain or not moving, and Miguel was crying while embracing Mark, whose expression was twisted in hot anger, like that of a demon. Miguel's aunt, Seraphina, was on the phone, her face was red with rage. "These idiots! They get fired, so they decide since we don't have a detail yet, they'll come up here?!" She kicked one of the groaning men. She turned to look at Jazz. "Great, what are you doing here?!"

Jazz ignored her mood. "What happened!?"

Seraphina explained that the guards they hired were contacted and told that their contract was null due to their abandonment of their client, Miguel, and that she would be reporting their actions. The Head of security tried to argue the circumstances, but she would not have it, at the least, they should have tried to escort her off-premises. Evidently from the smell, the men had gotten piss drunk. Emboldened by their new stupor, the men came to confront Seraphina, and when rejected outright, they broke in.

"That was when Mark swooped in and blew them all away!" Miguel said with a fevered expression. "He said, 'You won't touch a hair on their head when I'm here!'" Mark looked down in embarrassment while Seraphina smiled in approval, "you were a brave, strong young man." She looked over at Mark's broken arm with pity.

"Uh… it was nothing…" Hercule was embarrassed.

Jazz smirked. "It wasn't just nothing, you did amazingly." He turned to Seraphina, "are the police on their way?" The woman nodded. "That's good, I'm glad you guys are safe. But I think you might need a security team or something."

"Pft… like I'd trust another suggestion." Seraphina groaned.

"Suggestion?"

She scoffed, "that bastard Imaj recommended those fuckers…" Jazz suddenly regretted not burning the man alive.

"Now don't be mean!" Miguel, oblivious, said, "I'm sure Mr. Erkof meant to get us the best team. And that Mercenary Tao guy was scary!"

"Be that as it may, I can't just let you go around without any protection."

"Err… I can!" Mark shouted excitedly, "I can protect her!"

"Well, you are strong…" Seraphina began, "but it can't just be you!" She shook her head, "you are a literal child, and I can't in good conscious let one child take care of another like that?"

"What about two kids?" Jazz asked, "I can help, Mark will be the personal guard, and I'll be the perimeter detail." Mark looked almost upset but brightened up at Jazz's suggestion, which would allow him to be closest to Miguel.

"Hmph, what's a weak boy like you capable of?" Mark asked.

Jazz smiled, "I may not look it, but I am relatively skilled." Dust exploded around him as he transformed into a perfect replica of Mark. "And I can pretend to be anyone," he transformed into Seraphina, then the Farmer, then Mercenary Tao, "or anything." He finished off by turning into a chopper motorcycle.

Miguel clapped in awe while Mark paled in fright. "Freak!"

"Mark! How dare you!" Miguel shouted angrily, causing Mark to flinch.

Seraphina looked at Jazz, "Hmm, so you went to the Southern Transformation school?"

"You know about it?" Jazz asked.

"Of course, I'm surprised they let a human attend."

Jazz laughed. "True, I actually came to the city… there's another student, a trouble maker by the name of Jared I'm after."

"Really?" Miguel asked, "what does he look like?"

Jazz shook his head, "no real idea? But I've got to find him before he makes too many waves in the city. He's a troublemaker, transforms into demon-like forms, sets himself on fire."

"I'll help you find him if I have the time, but I take it you're strong!" Seraphina asked. When Jazz nodded she smiled, "alright then. I'll hire both of you, how does 60,000 Zeni a month sound? I'll also provide rooms for rent in this apartment building, and foot the bill for Mark's broken arm."

Jazz nodded, "I like that, I just have a few conditions."

"Oh?" Seraphina frowned, "I'm already making such generous offers, what could you want?"

"There's a place I have to visit every full moon, so I'll need to leave the day of or at least 12 hours before at the earliest. Also, in three months there will be a Martial Arts tournament, the Budokai Tenkaichi, I want to attend. Lastly, in three month's time, every full moon, I will have to take on a specific… transformation, it will be dog or wolf-like, but it should likely only be once a month. You can dock my pay regularly."

"I see…" Seraphina shook her head. "I can accept these terms, basically, you're asking for one to three days off a month. So you're okay working weekends, and night detail too?"

"Aunty!" Miguel shouted.

"Are you implying 24-hour coverage?!" Hercule asked, flabbergasted.

Jazz, however, to everyone's surprise, quickly nodded.

"Yeah, sure whatever.

...

Jasper(Jazz) Duncan

Age: 15 (and 9 months), physical appearance: 15-16

Hair color: Red

Skin color: white

Race: Quarter Caucasian(White American of English-Irish descent), Quarter Asian (Korean), Quarter Black(African-American), Quarter Hispanic (Cuban)

Height: 5ft 9inches | 175 centimeters (69 inches, nice)

Weight: 157 lbs | 71 kilograms (the namekians granted him a pair of 10, 15, and 20 kilogram wrist and ankle weights. (3 sets of weighted clothing in total, 4 parts each, 22 pounds, 33 pounds, and 44 pounds respectively, currently using 15 kg (33 lbs) weights.

Skills: Decent Sports Talent for Age, Semi-Above Average Intellect for age, intermediate martial arts skills, average ki control, good pain tolerance, trap building, intermediate weapons mastery, basic boxing, basic mma, street fighting skills

Powers: Magic Materialization (Fire) (Intermediate Understanding)

General magic: Rudimentary Understanding

Max Power/ Pump Up,

Shapeshifting, Mastered Skill level (indefinite)

Noble Werewolf (dormant)

Powerlevel: 50, will raise to 75 temporarily when using Pump Up/Max Power

Afterword:

Unfortunately wherever you go, there are evil people around, fortunately, Jazz has the strength required to kick ass and take names. But as you can see, he's not exactly the boyscout superman type that lets the law do everything, nor is he exactly the Batman "I live for justice and to take vengeance on all criminals" or Goku's carefree "as long as you don't physically hurt anyone, it's no real big deal." There was someone he cared for who was almost hurt, and he chose to exercise his power when he realized the person trying to take advantage was doing something both illegal and immoral. As for Hercule's introduction? He's about as old as Krillin (born the same year), and supposedly was born with astounding strength. At the least he is actually pretty strong for a human, I'd rate him at a powerlevel above 30 in the cannon. (Of course, this is as a full fledged adult.) I'd peg a teen Mark at a power level of between 7 and 9 (but likely stronger than Krillin). But as I'm sure you'll guess, that's about to change.