Pursual
Chapter 5: City Sojourn
A/N: Hey everyone! Just so you know I made some edits to chapter one. Now it should read much better and all that jazz. I'm also still reviewing the earlier chapters and editing as I write the new ones. Hope you enjoy this chapter! It's a bit on the longer side compared to the previous ones.
Fire and blood filled her sight- the destruction wrought about in the forest was almost unimaginable. In that moment, when the boy stepped forward and guns erupted into madness, her training and her nerve evaporated. Despair and hopelessness overwhelmed her and provided the sole fuel for her desperate run. Bullets flew through the air and accentuated, dying screams contributed to the cacophony of death. Flames appeared from nowhere, sweeping across the forest with as if they possessed. Still, she charged forward and jumped into a ditch.
It was a scene right out of a nightmare.
An explosion rocked the ground and the air, causing her to shake as the dirt shifted under her body. Hands pressed over her ears, she shut her eyes, willing herself to another place, another time, to a memory far away from what was now happening.
The firing had, she dulled noted, finally stopped. The forest had grown silent, save for the sound of crackling wood and leaves. The explosion was reverberating into the distance. Horrible dread swept over her, threatening to completely rob her of any physical movement. Slowly, she lifted herself slightly from the ditch and looked around. Other than a few spots here and there where fire was overtaking the brush, the forest was clear of anything or anyone.
Cautiously, she stood up, walking over as silently as she could to the path she had run from. As she moved closer she realized that she was walking through an area where a whole belt of grenades had gone off, pocketing the dirt here and there with small holes.
When she exited the forest, the devastation was immediately present. Four bodies laid on the ground, their eyes and mouths open from shock. Weapons were strewn on the ground next to them, smeared in blood. From the looks of it, they were slaughtered.
Rayne stepped over to the nearest soldier. Her second-in-command, Pako, had a gaping hole through his gut. His guts were flung out over him like ghastly ribbon paper, folded and crumpled onto itself. It was in that moment of recognition that a blinding strike collided with the side of her head. She heard a grotesque craaack as she fell towards the ground, no surer signal that the blow had fractured her skull. By the time she fully collapsed, almost all consciousness had been driven away by the overwhelming pain. She did hold on, however, to hear one last thing.
"Remember who did this. Remember Kakarot."
Then, oblivion.
0o0o0
Yamcha had appreciated the newfound atmosphere of the team. Though he wouldn't admit it to anyone else, nearly falling to his death had shaken him to the point where he felt it hard to find his old confidence - or was that just blind rashness? Regardless, he had come to find comfort in his companions.
I guess it's been a long time since me and Puar have looked out for anyone other than ourselves. From his bedroll Yamcha momentarily opened his eyes and glanced at Puar, who slept peacefully about ten feet away. She was curled up around the extinguished fire.
Ever since Yamcha and Krillin had mended the bridge between them, the entire party was much more at ease. Bulma and Puar certainly seemed happier and more cheerful by the day. Yamcha was happy to see it. Krillin had taken the initiative with training, continuing his effort to explain ki to him to help him better access the Wolf Fang Fist. So far they haven't been very successful, but Yamcha wasn't discouraged. Krillin was smarter than he gave himself credit for. If anyone could figure out ki through trial and error, it'd be him.
Overall, the entire experiences wasn't what Yamcha had been expecting. We're definitely still teenagers, and we have a long way to go before we can unanimously agree on dish-washing duties, but this trip is turning out to be more civil than I would have imagined.
Hopefully, that gives me a chance... Then again, how am I supposed to make a move with two other people always around? Bulma… you should smile more. His mind a mix of anxiety and adoration, the former bandit drifted off to sleep.
0o0o0
They set out early the next day. Bulma insisted that she needed to go to a city and restock on supplies. When Krillin questioned why she had said they had enough supplies a few days ago, she grumbled red-faced and said that she had miscounted.
I'm not going to bring that up again, Yamcha thought as he rested his head on his arm and looked out to the countryside around them. One of the first things he learned while traveling with Bulma is that she wasn't to be challenged. Once she made up her mind, that was that. Thus, the four of them traveled in Bulma's jeep. Silence rested over the vehicle as they drove to the nearest settlement, Rose City.
He saw endless fields of planted crops; every once in a while an errant stream or slow-moving tractor would break up this monotony. Yamcha registered the fact that if he had never left his village, he might have been one of the people milling the fields right now. They sure don't look happy. Then again, my village was in the desert; more likely I'd be spearing snakes.
Soon enough, the countryside gave way to denser and denser buildings, finally enveloping the road fully. Bulma mentioned something along the lines of 'might as well get some gas while we're here' and pulled off the road into a gas station. As she got out to examine the gas pump, Yamcha took the chance to stretch his limbs and walk around.
The gas station sat in a semi-busy intersection. Cars and trucks intermittently passed by as the light switched from green to red and back again. A diverse mix of people walked by, from normal old humans to dogs, cats and rabbits. It was beautiful in a 'take a picture' kind of way.
Though it was odd that the gas station- Yamcha noticed- had a giant pig sticker plastered over it. He began to notice that the symbol was all over; the supermarket had pig stickers in its windows. The car-wash was a pig head with a mouth for the cars to go through. The butcher's was closed. What, does the city have a big pig population and they like these businesses? I haven't seen a single pig walking the street.
Yamcha scratched his head. When he turned back to his companions to judge whether they were seeing what he was seeing, he saw that the three of them had gotten into a conversation with a dog police officer flanked by two cats who together looked particularly mad. Uh-oh. Yamcha walked over to the intensifying conversation.
"...and I told YOU that I won't be paying that!" Bulma said while pointing a finger at the dog policeman. "What kind of city has a visitor tax anyway?"
The officer looked shaken for a second, but doubled down and showed his teeth. "The kind that you're in. If you don't pay the tax then me and my officers will have to repossess some of your items." He eyed the jeep hungrily. "That car would probably cover the costs…"
Bulma was about to explode in anger when Yamcha rushed forward and placed his arms on her shoulders to calm her and hold her back. "Let's not get crazy here. Mr. Policeman, is there any court and person we can complain about this tax to? You have a courtroom in… where are we? Rose City?"
"Actually, it's Oolongopolis. And no, there's no one you can 'complain' to. If you have a problem with the tax we can take you in shackles to our mayor." The dog police officer looked ready to pounce.
Yamcha was opening his mouth to respond when someone cut him off. "We'll do that!" Puar said hastily.
Three heads turned to Puar simultaneously, all talking at once.
"What?"
"Why?"
"No way in hell I'm doing that!"
Puar smiled sheepishly towards the officer. "Sir, if I could talk to my friends for a second…" The officer frowned, then gave a curt nod to Puar. The cat floated over a couple feet and gestured for the three others to come over. "Guys," she whispered when they were finally close enough, "I know what I'm doing."
Bulma shook her head. "Not good enough! Explain to us what you plan to gain by getting us all imprisoned!"
"Well, I'm working off a hunch at best, but I think I know who the mayor is. Remember what the officer said? The city's name? It's Oolongopolis. It just so happens I knew a particularly selfish and egotistical person named Oolong in shapeshifter school.
"Wait, you went to shapeshifter school?" Krillin asked, eyes widening.
"Not important! What matters is that this Oolong person is probably the mayor the officer is talking about."
Yamcha snapped his fingers. "Hold on. Is Oolong a pig?"
Puar furrowed her eyes. "I think so. I can't be sure, but that was definitely his most common form he took at school…"
"Look around us!" Yamcha gestured towards the buildings on the intersection. "Notice the pig stickers? This reeks of overblown self-importance. Fits the bill of a pig named Oolong."
"Okay, so we know who the mayor is. How does that help us if we're delivered to him in chains?" Bulma interjected.
"It's simple." Puar answered. "I'm a much better shapeshifter than him. I can beat him or trick him in a one-on-one fight and free you all in the process. And I'd rather do that in a throne room with a few guards around than out here in public with a bunch of innocent civilians…"
Bulma seemed ready to yell, but then she sighed. "You have a point, damn you. Fine. We go in chains. I swear to god, though, if we come back and my jeep is gone there'll be hell to pay."
Puar smiled. "I can accept those terms." She turned back to the policemen. "Okay! We're not paying the tax so we're ready to be arrested! Take us to the mayor!"
The confused look on the dog policeman's face as he gestured for his two officers to get the cuffs was priceless.
0o0o0
Rayne wasn't sure what came first. Tediously, she became more and more aware of sensation. Sensation undefined, unbounded, unrecognizable, washing and receding over her mind. Some time passed before she finally understood that she was being touched. Something rested on her head, though it felt weird, ethereal, as if either it or her body didn't exist.
She opened her eyes. Through blurry vision - my sight, what happened, my sight - she could see a face hovering over her. The eyes were taut, looking down at her but not into her eyes. Black hair fell down out of a strange plumed helmet. Overall, the girl looked… rural? Whatever was her style, it certainly wasn't familiar.
Rayne must have been staring at her for a long time unknowingly, because the girl's eyes moved to hers. "Please, be still." Her hands were working on something near her, next to her head. I don't-
And then she remembered. The fear. The pain. The words. She gasped, reliving her last moments before unconsciousness, falling, drowning-
"BE STILL!"
She was back in the present. She was laying on the forest floor, the face looking down at her still in deep concentration. I remember. He hit me. He shattered my skull. "My skull," she gasped, "You're fixing my skull."
"Yes, I am."
She laid there, processing her situation. "Why don't I feel anything? Pain, that is."
"I rubbed a paste made from a plant that basically turns off your nerve receptors for a time. Didn't want you waking up in agony while I'm setting shards of skull."
A moment of panic swept over Rayne. With a few deep breaths, she calmed herself. "This doesn't make any sense," she stated. "My skull was fractured. I should be dead."
"Honestly, you should. But the way the skull was broken… well, it's almost as if whoever did this intentionally broke it just enough so that you'd feel excruciating pain but not actually die from it. Or, at least not immediately. If not treated quickly, it would have been fatal. You're lucky I was around." At that, the girl flashed a smile for the first time in the conversation.
Even in her impaired state, Rayne still had a semblance of sense about her. "What you just described is impossible. If my skull was totally shattered then my brain should have been destroyed, or at the very seriously damaged. Brain fluid should be running down my neck right now"
"That's just it… your skin," the girl said, "it's intact. Mighty bruised, yes, but intact. I think the same is true for your brain. It was just the skull… and that's it.
That kid… what kind of monster is he? To be able to pinpoint obliterate parts of my body at will, he must not only have power but incredible malice… She shuddered. With her eyes, Rayne desperately tried to look around, yet they were still blinded by blurriness. Conversation would have to do for now. "Who are you?"
"I just happen to be a hunter, that's all. And my game has proven to be very elusive."
"What do you hunt?"
"Well, that should be obvious. I hunt the person who did this to you."
It took a while for Chi-Chi - the girl's name, Rayne would learn but a few moments before passing out from pain as the plant's effects wore off - to finish re-positioning the fragments of her skull. Admittedly, Rayne was unconscious for a vast majority of that time. Medically, what Chi-Chi did was impossible; yet here Rayne now sat, half of her head wrapped in gauze and bandages. She found comfort by staring into the fire being tended by her savior. In her hand she sipped a tea brewed for her discomfort, which Chi-Chi insisted would help ease the ever-present dull, throbbing pain Rayne would feel for weeks, maybe months to come.
For the first time in her life she could remember, Rayne felt a lack of urgency to think of triumph and failure as her old self would have done. To analyze a situation obsessively until all she saw were paths and not people. The prospect of death had, strangely, relaxed her immensely. As far as she was concerned, the only thing that mattered to her at the moment was the cup of tea in her hand, and the shorter, most likely younger girl opposite of her. She didn't care she was more or less dead, either professionally or officially, to the Red Ribbon Army. She didn't care that a young boy had killed her entire squad. These were things to consider later.
Chi-Chi finished adding fuel to the fire, judging the wood burning to be sufficient for the rest of the night. She sat back and used her arms to prop herself up from the ground, closing her eyes and sighing. Rayne sipped her tea.
After a few moments, Chi-Chi seemed to have finished her mental rest and straightened. She gazed at Rayne with a purpose. "I understand that you've been through a lot," she asked, "but finding and stopping the person who did this to you is important to me. What happened?"
Ah, so sooner rather than later. With the faintest of nods, Rayne took one last sip of the tea and put it down next to her. After gathering her thoughts, she began. "I was a soldier with the Red Ribbon Army. The details and reasons for why this was the case are irrelevant."
Outwardly, Chi-Chi didn't react, but she mentally registered what had just happened. That's as an abrupt throwing up of a mental wall I've ever seen. Best not to broach that topic anytime soon. "So you were on a mission, then?"
Rayne nodded. "Yes, we were sent out to investigate one of our bases going dark… or at least, the three people we had in the first village we went to. They were posted there to keep an eye open for anything suspicious."
"Keep their eyes open? For what?"
Rayne tilted her head in thought. "To be honest, I never really thought about that. The Red Ribbon Army is so secretive that I doubt anyone below the top guys actually knew what they were looking for. It's likely that they were given just enough info to recognize what they were looking for, not understand it."
Rayne paused for a second. "Regardless, we were sent to the village to make contact with our people there. Instead, we found a war zone. The village had been completely destroyed."
"Wait, can we backtrack for a second? What exactly is the Red Ribbon Army? It sounds like it's a military organization."
Rayne blinked. "We are." She scratched her arm and then reached for her tea and sipped it. "We take what we want. Or, they take what they want. Not so sure I'm a part of them anymore."
"Did you have a rank?" Suddenly Chi-Chi was very curious.
"I think they gave one to me, although I'm not sure exactly what it was. Maybe Lieutenant Azure? Cyan? I'm guessing they named me after my hair," she said pointing to her greenish-blue hair that fell down in curled clumps to her shoulders. Come to think of it, what am I even wearing… she noticed that she was no longer dressed in Red Ribbon Army fatigues, but instead was in a white shirt and brown pants. She still had her boots, though.
Chi-Chi must have noticed her self-examination. "I changed you out of your old clothes. They were, uh…"
Rayne held up a hand. I won't be forgetting what happened anytime soon. "I understand."
They both fell silent, staring into the fire.
"Oh!" Chi-Chi perked up from sitting with her arms around her legs. "I got distracted and forgot to ask you to finish your story. Please continue!"
Eyeing the girl in front of her, Rayne sighed. "The village where our guys were was destroyed. I gathered some information and found out that villages to the east had been destroyed in the earlier weeks. I concluded that whoever or whatever was doing this was heading west. So we set off in that direction for the next village."
"So you stumbled across that kid, then."
"Yes." Rayne stared at Chi-Chi. I don't trust her. And I don't...I don't want to acknowledge what happened. How I was fooled. Not to her, not to anyone.
Chi-chi shrugged. "Well, I guess if you told me your side of the story, I should tell mine. Like I said earlier, I'm hunting this kid."
"Why on Earth would you do that?"
She smiled. "I was told to. You see, my dad is sort of a king. He rules over an area to the east of here called Fire Mountain." She fluttered her fingers for added effect. "One day we found out that some villages on the very exterior of his kingdom had been attacked. My dad said something about an old friend being in that area, and that he would stop the attacks, but then he grew worried when they continued. He didn't want to leave his people defenseless, so he sent out me out to find out whoever was committing the attacks and stop them."
"Why you?"
"I'm his daughter. Who else would he trust to do this? Who else could come close to the legendary strength of the Ox-King, if not his daughter?"
So she's the daughter of the Ox-King? Would explain the weird mountain gear… Rayne noted that Chi-Chi had plates of ceramic armor strapped to her, multicolored in faded pink and blue, which contrasted against the darker fabric underneath it. Still, she doesn't look that tough… "How do you track him?"
"Take a look at the edge of this clearing," she pointed to her left, "there, near the treeline."
Rayne looked over and couldn't see anything of note except a lone, burning candle. "So the candle makes it easier to see, or?..."
"No!" Chi-Chi snapped. "Look closer."
Squinting, Rayne could only see that the candle was burning. Except it wasn't quite burning. The flames seemed to be dancing impossibly high off the string, maybe a solid six, ten inches above the candle, almost as if the flame forgot to attach itself to the thread in the candle. It was bizarre to watch.
Chi-Chi's voice glided over. "To be honest, I don't know much about fighting. One thing I do know, however, is how to track people. In candles like that, I put a little ki into it and place them wherever I go. They act as a sort of alarm, which tell me if anyone has been through the area with enough ki to disrupt the flame.
"Okay...but if that's the case, why is it moving around right now?"
"That should be obvious. You're moving it."
Rayne had to turn her head back to Chi-Chi to see if she was grinning at her own joke. She wasn't.
"What do you mean, me?"
"I mean what I said. Your ki affects the candle."
"I- what- what is ki?"
"Energy you have inside you."
"And I'm…"
"Affecting the candle with your ki."
"But… how do I even have ki? I don't recall ever learning about it, let alone using it."
"Don't need to. Some people just have more ki than others. You are definitely above average in that regard."
Rayne looked back at the candle, considering the truth of what Chi-Chi was claiming. "How do you know the candle isn't being affected by someone else?" she asked. "If ki messes with it then any person nearby could be doing that, right? Maybe the kid from before is messing with them right now."
Chi-Chi didn't even pause to think. "It's you, not the kid. If he was close the flame would have died. Violently."
Involuntarily, Rayne shuddered. Would be appropriate for him.
Chi-Chi seemed to have lost the verbosity she had before. She avoided eye contact with Rayne and poked the fire as if trying to find something to do.
"You know," Chi-Chi said after a time, "He's strong. Very strong. Well beyond me. There's a part of me that… wants to give up. There's a part of me that's scared." She set down the stick she was stoking the fire with. "But I can't give up. My dad is counting on me. My people are counting on me…"
Massive expectations at a young age. Rayne sympathized.
Chi-Chi lifted her head towards Rayne. "But that's enough about me. What are you going to do once you're healed?"
Rayne took her cup of tea and downed it, stretching in preparation for sleep. "Well, there's only one path forward." She met Chi-Chi's eyes, wondering if her eyes had any of the glint she saw. "We stop the kid."
She had never seen a person so relieved.
"And," Rayne continued, "I think I have an idea how."
0o0o0
It was obvious that the so-called mayor's residence was anything but that. The exterior of the building was flanked by massive marble columns, grey-white, framing wide-slabbed stone steps that ascended up to the building itself. The structure had the air of wisdom and age, and Puar felt a stab of sadness for what it had been turned into. What was probably one of the most cherished and beautiful buildings for miles around has been turned into the playground of a selfish pig. Disgraceful. Banners moved in the wind, hung from the marble pillars. The pig sticker that had dominated the intersection now gazed down on the group, stitched and embroidered in expensive looking dyes and lace. Wooden braziers lit the top of the steps, insulting them with their uselessness in broad daylight. Stupid, really. The policeman knocked on the giant wooden doors, and after a pause they opened, revealing a grand antechamber that dominated the building.
The inside was in no better taste than the outside. Smaller versions of the banners outside covered the internal gray-black pillars. Torches sat on every pillar that a banner wasn't draped over. The columns formed two parallel lines leading forward, culminating in a throne area. There, a tiny chair sat, laughably small for the chamber it occupied. A tapestry hung behind it from a metal bar, framing the scene with a green-gold banner that backset the yellow and red chair.
In that chair sat a pig. A demonstrably irritated one. From the looks of it, he had been enjoying a meal laid out on a fold-out table next to the chair.
"What do you bother with me now? Come to complain more about your pay?" For a pig his size, he had a surprisingly loud and bellowing voice.
The corner of the dog policeman's mouth twitched. "Mayor Oolong, I was bringing these violators to your attention. They entered the city and refused to pay the visitor's tax."
Oolong's eyes shifted towards the four shackled people behind the dog policeman and his two officers. "Very well. Move aside so I may look at them."
The police moved off to one side, prodding their four detainees towards the end of the room. For a room this size and a person this important, Puar noticed there were surprisingly few people around. As far she could tell, the only other person in the hall was a janitor, casually mopping near the entrance.
"You all!" The shouting brought Puar's attention right back to Oolong. "Explain yourselves! Why do you break the laws of this city?"
Puar was about to angrily retort when Krillin beat her to it. "It seems like the laws of this city aren't very fair," Krillin answered. "You're financially punishing people for coming into this city, whether to visit their friends and families or to buy or sell at the markets. What's there to gain from that?"
"There's everything to gain!" Oolong's voice sounded like a strained croak. "Visitors come and bring dangerous ideas to our city! We can't have people questioning the order of things! There'd be chaos in the streets!"
"What's so great about this city! Where does the money from that tax even go to?" Puar asked exasperatedly.
"The answer to that is simple! It goes to back to the city! As mayor of Oolongopolis, I make sure not a single dime is wasted- that all public tax money is put to good use keeping our parks clean, our citizens healthy, and our pockets rich!"
From some part of the room obscured by darkness, the janitor coughed.
"I will not allow the rule of law to be broken!" he pressed on. "So I will ask one more time; will you pay the tax or not?"
The four of them stared back at Oolong.
It didn't seem like he was expecting compliance. "So be it! Violators of the law must be punished! Officer! Officer…" he turned towards the dog policeman, "what's your name again?"
The dog policeman's face had the outline of a scowl. "Officer Beagle, mayor."
"Yes, yes! Officer Beagle. If you will, escort these to the chambers underneath this building. They'll enjoy the finest hospitality we can offer." He scanned the four people in shackles in front of them. "Start with her! The girl who hasn't said anything. She's making me nervous."
Nodding, Officer Beagle stepped over to Bulma and motioned her to follow her. After a brief second considering whether to comply or not, Bulma nodded and fell into step behind him.
They had walked through some twisting hallways for a few minutes when, abruptly, they stopped. Without saying a word, Officer Beagle turned around with the key in his hand. He brought it to Bulma's handcuffs and promptly unlocked them, letting them fall to the ground.
"I don't understand," she said as she rubbed her itchy wrists, "why are you helping me?"
Officer Beagle stared at Bulma, seemingly putting together an explanation. "Honestly, I'm not sure. Though I think hearing Oolong lie straight through his teeth sealed the deal for me."
"What do you-"
"The money from the tax. The money from all our taxes. I've seen where he's put all the city's valuables. Not a single cent goes back to the community." He paused. "I have a brother who has a chronic medical condition, and hasn't been able to work for a while now. For a long time this city had a great unemployment program, making sure my brother and people like him could eat and sleep sound at night. Ever since Oolong took over my brother's been getting less and less each month. Soon enough he'll have nothing to live off of and he'll have to start begging from me and the rest of our family just to live. No person should have to live like that."
Bulma wasn't prepared for such a thoughtful response to what she thought was a simple question. Thankfully, the officer wasn't done.
"Besides," he added, smiling, "I can't stand despots who lie. If you're gonna dominate the lives of the people you govern, at least be honest your self-serving goals." He turned away from her. "Well, good luck! I was never here."
And just like that, the Officer Beagle walked away. She noticed that he had incidentally left a key in a lock for the door she was next to.
Twisting and unlocking the door, she slowly pushed it open.
The room was beyond opulent, filled to the brim with gold, jewelry, cash, and all types of riches. Guess I found the tax room. Officer Beagle, you clever dog you…
Scanning over the varied treasures, she realized that on the ground was a dragonball, casually propped up against a gold nightstand. Oh. I guess I forgot to check the radar with all the craziness of today. Well, while I'm here… She walked over and pocketed it, making note of its two stars. Now… how to undermine Oolong with a room filled with his stolen riches… hmm...
0o0o0
Someone had come up to Oolong and began whispering in his ear. From the look on his face, it was bad news. Seeing him momentarily distracted, Puar moved over to Yamcha and motioned Krillin over.
"Puar," Yamcha whispered angrily, "what are you doing? They just took Bulma to this city's equivalent of a dungeon! Does your plan call for that?"
Puar avoided Yamcha's eyes for a moment. "To be honest, I was hoping Oolong would recognize me and sort of 'wake-up', I guess." She examined the room. "Though it helps that there are no guards around us, anymore."
"What do you mean, 'wake-up'?" Krillin asked.
"Sort of wake him out of this dream, fantasy, whatever he's doing right now. It seems like he's caught up in a full-on power trip. The Oolong I knew was selfish, but keeping an entire city under his thumb with fear and choking the life out of it is insane!"
"Hold on. You don't believe what he's saying about putting the money back into the city?"
"Definitely not! Think about it. If what he was saying was true then this city wouldn't have all these pig banners all over the place. At the very least, a substantial amount of money is going towards reinforcing Oolong's image as ruler in this city."
Krillin frowned. "It doesn't make much sense how a simple mayor could exert such total control over the people in this city."
"Krillin!" Yamcha snapped. "Questions for later! Bulma could be getting tortured right now! We need to do something!"
As he was opening his mouth, Puar heard a frustrated yell from the 'throne'. "Fine! I guess they're due for a reminder of who I am. Out of my way!" He pronounced as he pushed away the person who was previously whispering to him. Oolong brusquely walked past the three of them towards the entrance of the chamber.
"Does anyone know what he's talking about?" Yamcha asked, leaning in towards his companions.
"Actually," Krillin replied, "yea. I don't know if you heard it earlier but I definitely noticed some chanting coming from outside. If I had to guess, there's a protest going on out on the steps of this building."
"Interesting. Though that begs the question, why does Oolong think he can do against an angry crowd?"
"Uhh guys, you might wanna take another look at the mayor…"
Krillin and Yamcha turned to where Puar was looking, down to the entrance of the chamber. Oolong the pig had disappeared. In his place was maybe a thirty-foot tall nightmare, black and red and as mean looking as anything Puar had ever seen. The thing walked on three ghastly legs, moving in a two-by-one rhythm, the front one bending backward as it walked forward. Gigantic blades ran up and down the lengths of the massive arms, glinting in the light from their sharpness. The creature was terrifying. In fact…
"Krillin, Yamcha, this is an illusion." The two swung their heads towards Puar, both pale from seeing what might as well have been the specter of death itself. "Notice how almost every part of that thing is designed to cause fear? Oolong may be a shapeshifter, but it's all appearance; he doesn't get stronger in any way. He's still the same cowardly pig underneath."
The demon exited the building, shrouded by the sunlight outside. "Actually," Puar continued, " I think I have a plan to get out of our bind… just be prepared to attack Oolong on my signal."
"Wait, Pua-", but before Yamcha could say anything else Puar disappeared in a pop of smoke. It took a few seconds for the smoke to clear before he recognized the person in front of him. Oh ho hooo… Puar, well played.
0o0o0
Man, protests were fun. For two stinking years that literal pig Oolong had ruled without their consent, taxing them into poverty and effectively closing off the city to visitors. Dayo could suffer a few inconveniences. As someone who lived in his parents' basement, there wasn't much Oolong could do that would hurt him (though the same couldn't be said for his parents). But Oolong made a crucial mistake by barring the Turtle-Rhinos, his favorite band, from coming to city and playing at the local venues. Dayo was pissed. So he mobilized the rest of his friends, painted a bunch of signs, and together they marched across the city to the mayor's residence, yelling up the building's steps for Oolong to come out and face the people. Activism, hell yeah!
It took about a minute of their chanting for the doors to open. "Yea! Come out here you… you villain, you!" Dayo exclaimed, to no one in particular.
Smoke poured out of the building. The chants faded away as people were curious to see what would emerge from behind the doors. Slowly, black as night arms were outlined and revealed, protruding from the smoke in an outstretched manner. The crowd fell silent. The two arms flexed and turned, revealing from the smoke gigantic blades, flashing in the light. Some at the back of the crowd started backing away. I think I've had my fill of protesting, Dayo thought, time to-
A booming voice echoed from the smoke. "You all DARE to challenge me? Me, the demon lord Oolong himself? How many times must I remind you fools you deal not with a pig but a monster?"
The smoke cleared. Revealing a hellish, giant demon to a now-frozen crowd. A serrated smile was plastered on its face. "Good. Very good. Now then, let inform you all of your new oblig-
The demon paused, from what Dayo couldn't tell, until he could see someone emerging onto the top of the steps next to him.
Oolong. Or, the pig version of the demon before them. Wait a second…
"Everyone!" The pig version of Oolong yelled, "You've all been deceived! I have been imprisoned for two years by this imposter in front of you! This thing usurped my position as mayor and has been stealing your livelihood ever since!"
From the look of it, the demon was too flabbergasted to speak. Wheels started to turn in Dayo's mind. "Wait!" he yelled above the murmuring crowd, a hundred heads turning to him, "so when Mayor Oolong stopped the Turtle-Rhinos from playing in city, it was that demon calling the shots?"
The pig nodded his head effusively. "He's been abusing the power of his position to profit himself at the expense of all of you!"
Groans rose out of the crowd. The demon, strangely enough, seemed to shift and inexplicably looked much less frightening than before.
"Everyone!" Pig Oolong continued, "worry not! For I was saved by two powerful martial artists, who bravely infiltrated the demon's lair and freed me! And so shall they free this city!" At that the pig spread his arms sideways, gesturing towards the doors. Out into the sunlight emerged two teenagers, both glaring up at the demon who watched all that was happening in shocked silence. "Master Krillin! Master Yamcha! Show this demon the feeling of pain!" Both fighters settled into a fighting stance, facing towards the now backpedaling demon, who was looking for an exit from them and the crowd.
The demon exploded in a cloud of smoke. The two martial artists went into it and a few seconds later they emerged carrying a pig, each one holding one arm. Dayo's mouth hung open. Man, this demon won't give up! He even tried to turn back into Oolong to turn us against him! Dayo scoffed. Nice try. We're not that stupid. He transformed right in front of us!
Even now the demon-turned-pig was desperately trying to speak, but the bald martial artist on his right put a hand over his mouth, and then with the other led him back into the building and closed the doors behind them.
Which left Oolong by himself, beaming at the people cheering his name. 'You saved us! You're our hero! Best mayor ever!'
0o0o0
Krillin and Yamcha met Bulma on her way out, pulling behind her a handcart laden with treasures. Oolong started thrashing at the sight of her wheeling away his riches, but one glance from Krillin stilled him. Yamcha took a moment to whisper something in her ear before she nodded and resumed her trek back towards the front door.
"Yamcha," Krillin asked in between Oolong's struggling, "what did you say to Bulma?"
"She was planning on bringing out a bunch of treasure to expose Oolong as a fraud and a thief. Though, now that we have our own Oolong out there, I told her to start giving away the riches instead."
"Smart, very smart. Where are we taking this pig, by the way?"
"Well, the way I figure it, he can't stay here."
"After what I just did, that's doubly so." Krillin and Yamcha turned to the door, seeing that Puar turned pig had come back into the building, arms in his pockets. "I just told everyone out there that 'I'm' retiring from politics to catch up and enjoy life with my newfound freedom." Puar flashed a grin, and then disappeared into a cloud of smoke to reappear as her usual, floating cat self. "They were pretty heartbroken, but I think they'll survive. So neither Oolong can stay in this city."
"Well?" Krillin lifted his hand from Oolong's mouth, letting him speak, "What do you think?"
Oolong snarled at Krillin, then glared at a pillar on the other side of the room. "I have no future here. You might as well just take me wherever you go, virtually imprison me, make me an ally, bond with me." Oolong's voice was dripping with sarcasm.
Yamcha snapped his fingers. "You're right! We can't let you off the hook in some random city; there's a chance you'd repeat what you did before. So, it looks you're gonna have to travel with us, at least until we're confident you wouldn't repeat what you did here. What do you guys think?"
Seething, Oolong turned toward Puar and Krillin, hoping to find frowns at the mention of the plan. Instead, he saw enthusiastic smiles.
"Welp," Puar said, "that's three out of four agreeing to the plan. Sorry Bulma, but you're outvoted. Democracy rules- Oolong comes with us. So, do you think the jeep got impounded?
"Knowing our luck…"
"We'll have to get that back soon, Bulma'll be furious…"
"Yea, I'll go, I'll go…"
0o0o0
Kakarot sat on the edge of the woods, facing towards the village. Or, rather, what was left of the village. The fire had extinguished itself a few hours ago, finally spending itself on the remains of the houses and barns. Bricks lay here and there shattered and displaced. The fire had taken the corpses one and all.
Throughout that time, Kakarot sat and watched, seeing the flames spread to one hovel to the next, claiming the bodies within them. Faint smells of burning flesh swung around the area, blown to and fro by the wind. Ashes moved peacefully through the air, as the village became a smoldering, charred wreck.
It brought no satisfaction to Kakarot. He had personally killed every inhabitant of this village, all twenty-two of them, and he remembered each yell that erupted as his hand plunged into them. He had killed those soldiers earlier, demonstrating that their weapons were useless against him and punishing them for their dependence on such weak tools. Every victim's face was burned into his memory. Not from regret or sorrow, but confusion. Why?
Why did he feel the urge to kill? Why was it that choking out someone else's life was as natural as breathing? Kakarot had to admit that, from what he saw of this planet, his behavior was far from typical. Killing was… well, it's not that he hates it, but he doesn't like it either. It's almost… boring. To slaughter a village filled with people far below his own power… there's no challenge. You keep killing those who can't fight back and their faces start blurring together. It's like doing the same thing over and over again, without changing how you do it; it loses its luster.
Kakarot leaned back to lay flat on the grass. Ahh, but I've started to fix that. Slowly but surely I'm finding those that one day could challenge me… I couldn't kill them then and there- there'd be no point. They'd offer no challenge. But in the future… maybe… he smiled towards the smoke-choked sky. Maybe they'll offer me a challenge. Then, I can finally kill them.
What a wonderful day that'll be. I hope.
0o0o0
As the soon to be renamed Rose City receded into Bulma's rearview mirror- Puar couldn't let the city's people continue with that naming atrocity- with a shapeshifting pig tied up in the back between Yamcha and Krillin, she reflected on the past twenty-four hours. All-in-all, a good day's work. While they couldn't claim to have done many particularly beneficial things for the world so far, liberating a city from a despotic, greedy mayor was probably one of the better things they'd done.
Still, with four dragonballs in their possession and three to go, Bulma couldn't help but feel worried. Something tells me we've gotten all the easy pickings… I'd be surprised if we found any more dragonballs lying around in relatively unguarded treasure rooms. I have a hunch that we're going to need Krillin and Yamcha's skills sooner rather than later. And, of course, can't forget about Kakarot...
Thoughts for later. With the sun setting and the road warm and inviting, Bulma felt ready for whatever came next.
