Videl's morning started around 5 o'clock, she had been woken up by her watch beeping, signaling the finding of a body, all sleepiness had suddenly been washed away by that. She was sure the body found was part of the victims of the 'vigilante' that had been wandering for a while now. She had gotten all the basic details, a body found just ten blocks away from the police department, and that her presence was needed desperately. Videl had made her goal to find the responsible behind the murders, she had studied them all and spent most of her summer trying to crack the case but to no avail.

She disliked the name of 'vigilante' that the town used to describe him, to her, he was just a plain murderer, a man just like the ones he killed. He had no regard for the law, nor he had the courage or decency to show his face or stick around enough to be held accountable for his actions. She had been drawn to that man since she took over the case of his fourth victim, another murderer. However, she was quickly disgusted by the state the body was left in. His face had been beaten to a pulp, had been tied up like an animal and a small note had been left, the only note that would ever be found. 'To serve and protect, my ass'.

It wasn't the note that made Videl hate the man so much, the note itself was something normal that many other citizens shouted at the police force once in a while. It was the body. The murder wasn't made with justice in mind, had it been true justice, then he would've perhaps hit him unconscious and tied him up to be found by the police and face the consequences. But no, instead, he had decided to not just kill the man but kill him in such...savage way. It had been done in rage, spite and hate. It disgusted Videl.

But she realized that in his hate, there was a goal, she hadn't cleared the goal out in its totality but it was somewhere between ending crime and giving his 'justice'. And he went to great lengths to show that, that he wasn't just a killer for fun-no, he was a killer with a goal. She remembered finding the body of a man who showed heavy signs of torture, and a cassette tape, the cassette revealed the man confessing to crimes he had committed years ago. Not once the voice of the mysterious murderer was heard, and Videl ended the tape as the screams got worse.

It had been a horrible experience to sit down with the wife and children of that man and tell them he had been a horrible human once. Now, she hadn't any sympathy for the man, but still, it was a ghastly way to go.

She arrived at the crime scene around thirty minutes after five o'clock. It unnerved her that no more than fourteen hours ago she had stepped foot in that precinct and that perhaps she had crossed paths with the murderer and she hadn't noticed. It also unnerved her that they had been so close to him and he still got away with it, he was playing with them by now. She shook her head as she walked determined on the sidewalk still damped by the rain that had stopped around an hour ago.

The policemen greeted her with polite nods as she crossed the yellow tape, she noticed that the media outlets weren't yet on the scene but she knew it would only be a matter of time. They loved to suck on anything that had something to do with the 'vigilante', and in part, Videl blamed them too for hyping up the whole myth of the justiciar. It gave that son of a bitch an easy way out, it gave him a justifiable excuse to continue on his murder spree.

She studied the alley, it was downright horrible. It was narrow and although it had an exit, it reeked out trash and cigarettes, it was an awful smell of rotting things and the worst thing is that she didn't know if that was the smell of the alley or that was the body found dead. She didn't want to know. She searched for the person in charge and found the chief and a few of his men surrounding a wall and a bunch of trash bags, he was frowning but when he saw her, he formed a small smile and waved at her.

"Hey, chief," she greeted and the man sighed in relief.

"Miss Videl, thank Kami you're here, this one crossed the line."

She frowned. "Is it really that bad?"

The chief stared at her confusedly for a second then comprehended that she thought he was talking about the state of the body. He couldn't blame her, they were usually gory themselves. He shook his head and gave a small chuckle. "The body itself isn't that bad, actually, I think it's better than any other we've found. It's the fact it was made at such proximity that perturbs us."

Videl decided to see the body herself, the chief moved out of her way and she looked down. It wasn't that bad, the chief wasn't lying. The man who had once been known as Kiu Orts was laying on the trash, supported by the brick wall, his neck was in an abnormal position, his eyes bloodshot and lifeless, bruises forming in one of his wrists and saliva mixed with other bodily fluids oozing from his mouth. It wasn't the best, in the end, no body is but it was in way better condition than the others.

"A citizen was passing by and found him. Which was a shocker because just a few hours ago I had seen him alive, I was there when he was arrested and when," he bowed his head in shame. "When we had to let him go by lack of evidence, I suppose that's when our vigilante made his move."

Videl's mind went to the note they had found in the crime scene of the fourth victim. And she rolled her eyes.

To protect and serve, my ass.

There was this saying 'We all are products of our environment and she guessed it applied to this. As much as he hated to agree with a murderer, he was right in the incompetence of the police force. There some men who tried their best, she knew for she had met and worked with them, but a lot of the times the cops were counting on her or her dad to help them out. Not exactly ideal, and Videl herself had been thinking of ways to change it. However, what the murderer was doing could never be justified. People had to answer to true justice, not being killed for personal reasons.

"Any witnesses?" Her tone was rough but present, they knew she meant business now.

"I'm afraid not. It had been really late at night and with the pouring rain, no many people were out on the streets. One man who lives here said he saw nothing out of the ordinary. The raindrops masked the sound of anything if the victim had screamed or something, we don't have any leads, it's like he's a ninja or something."

"Yeah, well, ninja or not he must make some mistakes, and all we gotta do is find them."

The chief sighed in defeat. "Better said than done, times like these really make me miss the Great Saiyaman."

Videl's frown deepened. She remembered that...well, aide would be the word for lack of anything else. She had never actually crossed his path or met him but she knew people who did. They described him as a very caricatural-like man, with an idiotic outfit to mask his identity. He was everything this murderer was not, and even if Videl felt annoyed by the help that clown had provided, at least, he always tried to go for the peaceful route, never killing the bad guys, unlike this dude.

He disappeared around the time the murderer came around, so, give or take some nine months. Theories surfaced all around the town, people believed he was killed by the new vigilante, others thought he been done with their bullying remarks and sent the other dude. Frankly, Videl could care less, but she couldn't deny in the few months he had been around, the city was slightly better.

"Yeah, well, he's gone and here we are, no need to dwell about it."

The chief regained his posture, and he cleared his throat. "Right, so what do you think, Miss Videl?"

The girl sighed. "Well, for the state of the body I suspect he was in a hurry, he finished the job rather quickly and painless. And he also knew where Kiu would be, so that means he had already been following for quite a while."

"Maybe he was just benevolent?"

She shook her head. "Unlikely, he would've made him suffer, I'm sure if he had only had the time. Are you sure there aren't any other witnesses?"

The chief nodded. "Yeah, no one saw or heard anything, the rain and time of the night made sure of that."

"He's smart. I doubt he was planning on making it rain but he used his surroundings, what one could see as an obstacle, to help mask his crime. He's good at improvising."

"Well, what now?"

Videl turned to face him. "Let's take everything we have on Kiu and the victims of the murderer, maybe we can see some sort of more specific pattern and know who he will strike next."

"Surely, Miss Videl, right on it," the chief nodded as he hurried off.

Videl then turned her gaze unto Kiu. She thought about what had he done to deserve such out-of-the-ordinary death. Was the murderer busy? Was he tired? Annoyed by the rain? Kiu had seen the man's face, heard his voice probably and saw who he was, Videl wanted with such desperation that he could be somehow brought back from the dead, just enough to let her known who was the man behind the murders. She had no leads, as much as she hated to admit, and no human she knew was capable of such incredible strength as the murderer used. It was almost as if he was stronger than her dad.

She shook her head at that thought, no one was stronger than her dad. He had been the one who defeated Cell, the savior of the world, no one could ever top that. Even if it was a murderer. But still, unusual skills popped out in those murders and Videl was left even more curious to know who was responsible for them. What was he doing right now? Was he planning his next hit? Was he somewhere with them? That made her jerk her head in all directions.

Get a grip.

She sighed and took her gaze away from the dead body. She saw the media outlets beginning to crowd the crime scene, she made a face, she didn't want to deal with them right now. Publicity stunts were her father's domain, she was happy remaining on the sidelines doing actual work. She walked away, in the opposite direction with a deep frown on her face. She wondered, what was the murderer doing right now? Something horrible, she imagined, for she didn't see him as something more than a disgusting being. And what could a disgusting being be doing than something horrible?

Just before the lunch break, Gohan felt something run down his nose and drip into his upper lip, it was warm and liquid. He brought his hand under his nose, and when he pulled it out, he saw the patch of red covering his finger. He sighed in annoyance. Getting nosebleeds were becoming a normal occurrence, he thought of it as a seasonal thing, maybe the heat of the summer and pizza oven mixed with the stress made him get nosebleeds. He didn't know, he didn't care much, they were harmless but were annoying.

He was sure he was breaking some health codes by standing in the kitchen bleeding vigorously from his nose.

"Hey, kid, you okay?" Mister Abi asked him, trying to shield him from the customers, Gohan didn't know if it was because he was being considerate or because he didn't want him scaring away customers.

"Yeah," he answered, trying to get the bleeding under control. "I just need a napkin or some kind of tissue."

It was the first time he had had one of those at work, usually, he had them on the way to work or study. Hell, he had them once or twice while he was 'working'. He gave a weak smile as he walked to the counter, trying to hide his bleeding the best he could, although he had the feeling the blood was smearing all over his face. Quickly, he grabbed two napkins and stuffed them in the orifices of his nose. He vaguely remembered his mother saying he had to look upwards to stop the bleeding, then he heard Bulma say you could suffocate from that but as of now, he hadn't died.

Maybe today is going to be the day, he thought darkly.

"Take your lunch break now, alright?" His boss said, giving him a little smile as he went back to the tomato sauce.

Their lunch break wasn't much of a lunch break, not completely. It consisted of them getting around forty minutes to eat their lunch at the back of the building, in the one-way alley next to the trash and stupid graffiti. Mister Abi couldn't afford to get them a room or just make them eat at a table with the other clients. Glen didn't mind, he had a small bouncing ball under one of the trash cans outside and would bounce it off the brick wall in front of them.

Gohan would sometimes catch it and throw it so Glen could catch it, and they had a little game to pass the time. But usually, he just took that time as a smoke break.

He sat down on the doorsteps of the backdoor. He felt ridiculous with two tissues sticking out of his nose and red staining his hands and probably his face. He closed his eyes for a moment, took a second to hear the city sounds. He liked some of them, disliked others, and overall, enjoyed the relative calm of Mount Paozu. Right now, he could hear the traffic and chatting of people on the streets. Gohan was tired, no, he was exhausted. He wanted to take a vacation so badly but killing Kiu was just the beginning, he would overthrow his organization off Satan City.

He opened his eyes and looked down at his hands. They were stained with his blood, which was beginning to dry. He looked at them for a while, he didn't even realize they were shaking ever so slightly. He thought of all the times his hands had been stained with blood, the earliest, he knew he had been four. Five if he thought of all the times his hands had been stained by the blood of someone he loved.

Mister Piccolo...

His hands hadn't been covered in red, fiery blood but instead purple and thick one. His mentor's blood. The man who had taught him how to survive in the wild and who hadn't left him when everyone he knew had.

The smell of burned flesh came into his mind.

Mister Piccolo...

He felt someone grab him by the shoulder and he immediately brought his hand to the arm of said person and pulled the body forward, he didn't know who it was until he saw Glen, his back on the concrete with a pained expression on his face.

"Fuck, Glen, I'm sorry!"

Glen groaned in pain but even in his misery, he looked amused. "The fuck, Gohan, when did you learn how to incapacitate me?"

He brought his hands to the back of his head and chuckled nervously. "I was taught self-defence when I was a kid, I hope I didn't hurt you so badly," he helped Glen to his feet.

"You okay? I heard you had a nosebleed. Waited for lunch to go see you, didn't think I would get my ass kicked."

Even though Gohan knew he was joking, he couldn't help but feel the sting of guilt build upon his body. It constricted his chest and made him feel awful. You can't do anything right, you see You hurt everyone you touch. He frowned and internally sent his conscience or whatever that was to fuck off. But the guilt didn't leave him. "I'm sorry."

Glen smiled, albeit his face still contorted in slight pain. "Don't sweat it, dude, sweet that you can defend yourself like that. Maybe you can even protect yourself from the vigilante harassing our city."

Gohan sat down once again, took a cigarette out of his jeans pocket and with the small zippo he had with him, lit it up. He shouldn't be smoking while his nose was clogged with dry blood and tissue but he didn't care, he had had a shit day so far and deserved a bone to be thrown at him. Slowly, he took out the now red tissue off him, he sighed as he saw the amount of blood absorbed in them, then he threw them in one of the trash cans.

Glen sat down next to him. "You look awful, your face is covered in blood, not to forget your hands. Today isn't your day, huh?"

"I guess you can say that."

"May I ask what made you flip me over your shoulder?"

Gohan exhaled the smoke and shrugged. "I was in deep thought."

"Well, remind me to never snap you out of your dreams if you take a nap at work."

They sat down in silence for a while, a silence that was between awkward and comfortable. Gohan hated the fact he had slipped so much today, he just didn't think his mother would ask him to consider going to school there. Work wasn't daily, he had an escape, his mountains when he got too overwhelmed. He had a way out. If he went to school there, his escape would stop existing and he could face the consequences of his actions. They just didn't understand, he was helping them.

Why couldn't they see that?

"They say the vigilante can stop clocks with just staring at them, some even say he's stronger than Mr. Satan," Glen broke the silence, he had brought his lunch, unlike his co-worker, and was sinking his teeth on a sandwich.

"People really have no stuff to do in their lives than gossip about that man."

"Hey, it's entertaining. There was even another vigilante before the current one, you weren't working with us yet so you missed it."

This did lift Gohan's interest, he hadn't heard about the other vigilante in so long. "Oh, yeah?"

Glen nodded. "Yes, he called himself Great Saiyaman, not going to lie he was a bit of a clown, made exaggerated poses and had a stupid costume but he was there to help people. He was more open to things, in a way this new vigilante isn't."

Gohan remembered the Great Saiyaman, his first secret identity when he had started his justiciar ways. The poses he had taken them from the Special Forces of Frieza, still so present in his mind. To be honest, he had fun with that character, it had been a way to let steam out. Be, in some sort of way, who he didn't get to be because of the circumstances. He bullshitted most of his way into superhero status, the ridiculous poses and his stupid name but he enjoyed it.

In a way, he never had again.

"How so?" He asked as he took a drag out of his cigarette.

"He believed in second chances, I guess. He didn't kill the bad guys even though they deserved it. I think he knew sometimes living is worse than death, another way of giving justice."

A frown and then a bitter chuckle. "Then why isn't he here?" I clearly remember all those-well, most of the criminals going back to their damn crimes without a second thought.

Glen shrugged. "Beats me but it was fun while it lasted," he laughed.

Gohan said nothing as he kept smoking, the silence now becoming deafening. Then he sighed. "Well, nothing gold can stay."

"Did you bring your lunch?"

As in cue, Gohan's stomach growled. "Too busy trying to stop the bleeding."

"Here, I know it isn't much but hey," he had taken half of his sandwich and offered it to Gohan.

"No, it's okay-"

"Come on, we still have some hours left and you won't be able to eat in the small breaks we have."

"I don't-it's your food. You have to eat as well."

"For Kami's sake, I am not offering you a brand-new Capsule Corps car, it's a damn sandwich, take it."

Hesitantly, he took it and gave a small smile as thanks. Glen looked satisfied with himself, he placed his sandwich on the plastic bag it came in, then lifted the trash can at his right where the small bouncing ball laid. With a mischievous smile, he went back to his seat. "You gonna play or watch?"

The first cigarette had been smoked to the filter and Gohan threw the butt out on the concrete, he then took another one and lit it up. Giving it one long drag, he shook his head. "Watch."

Glen laughed once more. "One piece of advice, Gohan?"

"Yeah?"

"Before going back, clean your face, you seriously giving me serial killer vibes."

The laugh escaped his lips before he could stop it. "Sure, thanks, I appreciated it."

Finally, around six o'clock, his shift had finished. Glen had left a few hours ago, leaving Gohan and Mister Abi to try and keep the restaurant alive. Nevertheless, the owner had decided to close early, because by six the place was deserted. Had circumstances been different, Gohan might've liked that he got to finish early but instead, it was worrisome because it meant less pay, less money. More problems. Still, Gohan had said goodbye to Mister Abi and thanked him for not firing him on the spot for bleeding out in public. The old man shrugged and smiled, saying he didn't have anyone else to hire. Again, Gohan didn't know if he meant it as a compliment or not, it was difficult to with that man.

He was, nevertheless, too wired up to just go home as he stood aimlessly in the streets, and he wouldn't even try to find the second-in-command of Kiu. The police were really mad at him, they thought he was mocking them (which he wasn't) and had doubled their patrols, he had heard four in less than an hour pass by. With all that energy contained in him, Gohan knew he had to get it out in a way but his options were thinning with time.

Then, he got an idea, and he groaned. But having no other choice, he knew he had to do it. It will be fun, don't worry, he tried telling himself. It may, he corrected himself.

After getting into a building, going all the way to their roof, then very carefully, making sure no one saw him, took flight and flew for some minutes, he arrived at West City. Fighting with Vegeta was something Gohan tried to avoid, his mother wasn't a big fan of him coming home with bruises and cuts all over his body, and usually, they ended up breaking something or making the house and its surroundings shake. Also, because of Vegeta's whining and complaining, mostly unwanted, of course, not that he cared.

Gohan's training after the Cell Games had never been consistent, he had spent the first six months training-more like obsessing with fights that his family and friends had to intervene after he pushed himself to sickness. Then, he had stopped training altogether, spent his time studying and helping his mom for months. After a while, he began training again, then stopping, and resuming. His training, if he could call it that, came at moments, sometimes weeks, others days, it was out of the moment. His spars with Vegeta were ways of letting off steam and once in a while an actual fight.

The prince claimed Gohan wasn't using all his energy, all his power, even when he was kicking his butt while Gohan knew that short man was saying it just to get him angry. Vegeta, after a fight, loved to remind him he had no balance at all in his way of fighting, either he let the rage and emotions take control of him or he could barely dodge a punch. The last time he went to visit, that man had said even the incompetent Mr. Satan could beat him which prompted a fight that ended up in black eyes and a dislocated shoulder on Vegeta's side.

Gohan had started to pick up the pace again in his training, perhaps gain that balance they all chastised him about. But today he didn't care much about balance, he wanted a good fight and he knew the last full-blooded Saiyan could give it to him. Or, at least, be his punching bag.

He arrived at Capsule Corp doors and he knew Vegeta had already sensed his ki, Gohan had already sensed him, he was in the Gravity Room, probably doing all he ever did, training to become stronger. He knocked on the doors, to be greeted almost immediately by Dr. Briefs, sporting his usual rectangular glasses, a lab coat and a cigarette hanging from his lower lip. "Ah, Gohan! Long time no see, come in, come in!"

"Thank you, doctor."

"How's work? How's life? Everything fine?"

Gohan smiled, as he entered, the doctor was always such a chatty person but he didn't mind it, not as he did with other people, he admired the doctor in a way, he had let him borrow all sorts of books when he was young and had even let him help him build some of his eccentric inventions. "Yeah, just got off work, decided to pass by."

Dr. Briefs laughed. "You must stay for dinner, even better," he got closer to him. "I'm working on another invention and I need the help, you up for the task?"

"Well, I was searching for Vegeta, I got something to do with him."

"Ah, he's training with my grandson in the Gravity Room, he'll be out in a few. You're going to spar with him? Ooh! I enjoy your games, it's fascinating how you Saiyans can endure..."

And he began ranting about the genetics of the Saiyans, their endurance and how he was trying to apply those in his inventions. Gohan listened with gusto, he loved how the mind could hold so much and bring into life so many things. He knew humans weren't the most advanced people in the universe but still, science was always testing the limits of everything. Fighting usually brought destruction and death while science brought discovery and life.

"What's the project you're working on, doctor?"

Dr. Briefs eyes glinted behind his glasses and he let a puff of smoke right in Gohan's face, who didn't mind, he would take any nicotine he could, even second-hand smoke. "It came to my daughter and me a few weeks ago at dinner. We called it ABOS. Adaptive Battlefield Memory Simulator."

Memories, what about memories? "A battlefield of memories?"

"It's mostly in the mind, which makes it trickier but it's basically an electroencephalogram that's hooked up to a machine which taps into the hippocampus and makes this virtual reality battlefield from memories of the user then it connects to the cerebral cortex so the user can move and be in that reality. He can fight and everything, being it all real without having to destroy physical stuff! Amazing, right?"

Gohan was out of words. But his silence was enough for the doctor to continue.

"It's tricky," he sighed. "We have to make the machine a perfect fit, make the cerebral cortex, the hippocampus and even the dorsal posterior insula-"

"Pain? You're telling me you want to make pain, real pain is felt with that machine?" Gohan interrupted, too stunned and excited to wait.

"Well, of course!" The doctor laughed. "My son-in-law thinks fighting is useless without pain. And we must make it as realistic as possible. Right now we're programming it, building some of the parts."

"Amazing..." Gohan breathed out.

"Gohan, I didn't expect to see you, how are you?" A feminine voice rang out.

Bulma Briefs followed by a sweaty Vegeta was walking towards Gohan. The teenager smiled, breaking from the spell of the newest invention of Capsule Corps. "Good, good."

Vegeta grunted. "What are you doing here? Wanna rematch for last time?"

"Augh! Just because Gohan is here, it doesn't mean he will fight with you," Bulma chastised her husband.

Gohan, however, chuckled. "Actually, I'll take you in that offer, I need a good spar," then he eyed the man. "That, of course, if you can take it."

"Of course I can you insolent brat! You got lucky last time but this time I won't be so generous."

"Good, I never expected you to be."

Bulma sighed. "You Saiyans, just don't break anything worth it because last time it took me weeks to get the GR to work again."

"I'll try," Gohan said.

"I'll make no promises such as that, woman," Vegeta snarled and then looked at Gohan. "Now, you with me."

Once in the Gravity Room, which looked like a mess because of the prior training session, Vegeta, who was grumbling about how Bulma was an insufferable woman, threw Gohan a training gi. It was the one Gohan had adopted in honor of his two masters, his father and Mister Piccolo. In a matter of minutes, he was ready. Odd enough, Gohan saw Vegeta as a good friend, prideful and spiteful but he was one of the few who apart from the insults, let him be. He didn't speak with him or tried to but he was there, ready to fight when he needed it. He was the only person who knew about his secret identity.

He never asked questions, thank Kami.

"Rules?" Gohan asked as he tightened the red belt around his hips.

"No power blasts," Vegeta grunted, then added. "Not like you can do a Kamehameha for that matter but still."

"I've had a shit day, so, unless you want a dislocated shoulder, fuck off."

To put salt in the wound, Gohan had found out a few weeks after the Cell Games that he was unable to make a Kamehameha, it was impossible for him. Most of his attacks were weakened, no matter how hard he trained. Mister Piccolo had concluded that he had some kind of mental block that made him unable to produce a clean energy attack, that he needed to sort out his 'inner trouble' to unblock them. Gohan found it tragically funny, the boy who defeated Cell by a Kamehameha, couldn't even do it anymore.

"I don't give a shit," was the answer he heard before he threw himself at him.

Gohan dodged the jab with ease, and found an opening in Vegeta's chest, he wasn't quick enough and the man blocked his attack with his right arm, trying again, Vegeta went for his face, Gohan barely blocked it with his left forearm. Angry at that, the full-blooded Saiyan butted his head. Gohan felt the pain explode in his nose and front. He took a few steps back and brought his hand to his nose, it was soaked in a matter of seconds, and by touch, he saw it was crooked.

"Fucking asshole, you broke my nose!"

Vegeta took that opportunity to grab him by the neck, just like Gohan had done to Kiu less than twenty-four hours ago, then slammed him onto the metal wall. With his free hand, he punched him in his stomach, repeatedly, as the teen coughed and gasped for air. "I thought you would've put a fight, pathetic."

That's when he felt his Ki elevate, with a smirk, he pressed down more. Gohan, by his part, took the next punch right into the palm of his right hand, with a death grip, he squeezed it hard. The sound of bones breaking, a grunt and the sudden pullback around his throat, made him smile. Vegeta had, out of pain, taken his hand off his throat but Gohan, still gripping to it, brought his left hand to his opponent's shoulder and kicked him in the stomach, hard.

Vegeta spat off blood and spit. And Gohan threw him across the room, hitting the other side with a thump and making a dent. In a matter of seconds, he was already next to him, not giving him a chance to recover, grabbed him by the collar and lifted him, with a smirk of clear enjoyment, he proceeded to punch Vegeta. Not enough to make him drop unconscious but just hard enough to repay him his broken nose. Blood splattered on the walls and floor.

"Co-coward!"

He pushed Gohan off him, then, he appeared above him and brought his elbow down. Gohan fell with a shout of pain. Vegeta, smiled, satisfied with his attack. While down, he proceeded to stomp on his hand, breaking it. Gohan didn't scream, he just bit his tongue so hard it bled. Then, Vegeta rolled him over and kicked him on the gut. "Is this all you got? Is this who beat Cell? I just see a stupid kid wasting my time."

Gohan's ki elevated even more and with a shout, he got up again.

With a face of determination and fury, he spat blood. Vegeta smirked, feeling that this was beginning to be a true challenge. He made the first move but Gohan dodged it, he tried again but he continued to flee, blocking his attacks with his speed. No matter how hard the prince tried, it seemed he could no longer hit him, it made him grow frustrated. Gohan managed to get in a few punches and kicks, the pain angering Vegeta even more. "You stupid brat! Don't run! You coward! Can't even handle a just fight anymore, got to either kill pathetic humans or hope daddy sacrifices himself!"

That's when he knew he went too far. The brat seemed hurt at first, then his eyes seemed to zone out.

Gohan materialized in front of him, face covered in blood, crooked nose and a black eye. But Vegeta found himself staring at the same eyes that faced Cell, it brought a sense of doom in him. But he couldn't form a word before his hand met his jaw, lifting him, then in a blink of a second, he was above him, now it was him who elbowed him down and as he fell hard on the floor, Vegeta managed to roll to the right to avoid Gohan's knee.

But the half-blooded Saiyan wasn't done. He grabbed him and wrapped his arms around the wounded man, and pressed really hard. Vegeta felt the pressure and gave a scream of pain. He had gone too far by bringing the brat's dead father, he must've had a shit day. And even if he didn't like to admit it, even with pure raw power, Gohan was stronger than him. "Is this what you want?" Even his tone was venom.

Vegeta managed to butthead him and spat on him, perhaps not enough to wound him but it was enough to make him drop him. "Okay, it's over," he croaked. But Gohan didn't seem to get it.

He wiped off the spit mixed with blood and then, with full force, slammed him into the wall where he continued to slam him repeatedly on the wall. With such force that Vegeta knew that if he didn't do something, he would end up dead. Throwing the fucking rules out of the window, he gathered enough energy to do a Galick Gun, it threw Gohan out of the Gravity Room, piercing the walls and landing on Dr. Briefs workshop.

Vegeta knew Gohan wouldn't stop. He could feel his son's ki approach, followed by his wife and father-in-law. He had to snap Gohan out of it, whatever he was. He popped up in front of him, he was still down but just as soon as Vegeta's feet were in his view, he tried to uppercut him. The prince blocked it and then, he looked around the room, something had to snap him out of it. His eyes locked in a branding iron with a crescent moon in the forge. Quickly, he took it, and before Gohan could do anything else, he pushed the branding iron on his right shoulder blade, burning him.

The half-Saiyan screamed in pain as he felt the burning iron contact his skin. Then, his zone-out eyes finally zoned in and he realized where he was, what he was doing and what he did. Vegeta dropped the branding iron and sighed, defeated and slumped over the hard floor. Gohan grabbed his shoulder in agony. "Fucking asshole, you burned me."

"As you said, fuck off."

Bulma appeared with Trunks, both of them looked horrified. Well, Trunks looked more excited than anything. Vegeta looked dead serious in the eyes of his wife.

"It was a draw."

"I need a cigarette," Gohan's hoarse voice spoke.

He was met with two death glares, he sighed apologetically.

"I know, I know, balance."