Chapter 1: The Game Begins

"So, where's the damn food?!" a man snarled.

For a show that depends on making alliances and keeping a target off your back, this guy obviously didn't get the memo. This guy was short, angry, and had a face that looked like it never smiled in his entire life. The amount of hair care products to get the full length of his hair to stand up straight like that must be staggering. And all his purple suit needed to complete the outfit was a large hat with a feather in it. Every inch of his poster exuded a combination of a reared-back cobra and a rattlesnake's tail as he tapped his fingers impatiently on the table.

He alone sat at a table on the deck of the large yacht. Everyone else has gathered together towards the rear and were introducing themselves to each other. That the producers didn't do their homework correctly was already evident. Two of them knew each other, probably even sexually.

Michael, the millionaire tech CEO best known for being the Lover's Oasis: Women's Edition semifinalist two years before and the tabloid favorite Lisa, who would jump from one famous boyfriend to the next. She was hanging on to him playing arm candy while he naturally smiled and projected charisma.

If they ended up on the same team, they would rule it. And if they both made it to merger, they would dominate it. At least that is what the man thought as he was watching the group out of the corner of his eye. Michael had already completely disarmed his opponents. The wine glass in his hand was completely untouched while others were already half gone. He had put it to his lips a few times, but the level never dropped. He had done this before, manipulating those around him without them realizing it.

The others had already divided themselves into social groups by who they were standing closest to. Becky was the only person other than Michael that Lisa was acknowledging to exist. She would be either a third wheel or a valuable partner depending on how the split goes.

The three athletes, Jamal, Ichiro and Hassim were all standing next to each other and talking when Michael wasn't leading the conversation. Jamal had already pantomimed several sports motions and did a short dance. Open and enthusiastic, the man concluded. His skills at trickery will not likely not translate out of the stadium. Jamal and Ichiro had barely touched the wine while Hassim hadn't even picked up a glass. These men liked being in control of themselves.

Another person was also not drinking. An Asian woman dressed like a girl's baby doll. Sugar Pedal, the K-pop singer. She had said something earlier that had made everyone turn awkward and silent towards her, but the man did not understand why it received this reaction. He had also recited scripts every interview and had never watched a single episode of this show. He could tell she wasn't lying when she said she had competed in several survival shows and declared she was going to sing her way to the top, but if there was a singing contest as part of this show, his wife would have said so.

One man had burst into laughter when she said that, the other musician, Jerry. He was the drummer of the man's favorite rock band, Black Slaughterhouse, but he wasn't about to allow that to become a weakness. If it had not been for the band jacket, he wouldn't have recognized him wearing glasses and having his mohawk in a natural hair color and braided flat into a ponytail.

A middle-aged man with a modest beer gut had slapped his shoulder ordering him to stop. It was Bob, the high school sport's coach. He then moved to stand next to Sugar Pedal and exchanged a few sentences while he had pointed towards a table with his thumb. He had appointed himself her protector. That impulse will make him vulnerable to backstabbing, the man thought. Bob had been standing with Daisuke, a false warrior who taught children martial arts as a game and not a life and death struggle for victory.

There was nothing special about the others in the man's eyes.

Two men were so boring they were completely interchangeable. Sam worked at the central capital while Nick did taxes. Whichever one it was seemed slightly ill at eased towards one or more of the athletes, but nothing else. The two women both had their hair pulled into a clip at the back of their heads. The older one was probably the teacher Vickie while the younger one was Jessica the yoga instructor.

Then there was the only person that made the man nervous, Casey. She had spent the conversation talking about horses and children. But it was what she was wearing that made his worry about the promise he made to his wife. A white T-shirt with the green alien face symbol with the words "They Exist" under it. She was also wearing UFO earrings with a stick figure as the daggle representing a person being kidnapped, and had left the green alien plushie she brought at her seat at the table. She was one of THOSE people, and that made her dangerous. Because just by coincidence any crazy accusations she could make about him — would be correct.

Because he was Vegeta the IV, Prince of all Saiyans.

Since a commenter was not satisfied with the warning labels in this story, I will add a note here. If you are not comfortable with North Korean bridal trafficking, South Korean mob violence and involvement in the music industry, a racist and violent Karen with terminal affluenza, and a wealthy, charming, manipulative, gaslighting Richard who has the world wrapped around his pinkie finger, then this story is not for you. The TV show in this story is based on one that famously has 39 days. Every day will have it's own chapter, but rarely, if too long will be split in two. This will be a long ride. Please be patient and remember, no matter how dark it gets, this is Dragon Ball. It just means someone is summoning Shenron somewhere.