Bulma had a mug of coffee in one hand, a newspaper in the other. The lights in the police station seemed obnoxiously bright compared with the darkness outside, but it did well to keep her alert despite her fatigue. Her blue eyes were narrowed in concentration as she analyzed the front page of the day's newspaper. It was never ideal to allow the media to interfere with good detective work; however, it was helpful to keep a finger on the pulse of what information was being fed to the public. She exhaled slowly through her nose as she read:

VIGILANTE VIOLENCE CONTINUES IN WEST CITY – The violence tormenting West City continues into its second week as WCPD continues their search for the culprits who are taking the law into their own hands. Four career criminals were found dead yesterday evening at The Jazz, a dance club in the downtown area. There was a note left behind which made mention of notorious businessman Frieza Cold, who last year was accused of leading violent mobster activity –

"Bulma? You still in?"

Bulma put down the newspaper, surprised when Goku rounded the corner. He was dressed in a black police uniform, not having earned the rank of detective despite having more time on the force than she did. The lack of advancement was due to general disinterest. Whereas Bulma much preferred the mental challenge of solving crimes, Goku loved the more physical aspect of being a police officer. He got a thrill out of literally chasing the violent bad guys down, and using his fighting skills when situations escalated, refusing to ever use his taser, much less his gun. And in a town that was highly active with gang activity, he was always kept busy – which was just how he liked it.

"Yep," she answered, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Surprised you're still here though," she teased, raising her mug for a much-needed caffeine hit.

"Yeah," he chuckled as he walked over to her desk. "I'm running my monthly martial arts class tonight, so figured I'd just go straight from work, since it's closer to work than home."

"Oh right," Bulma said with enthusiasm. She leaned back a little and took another sip of coffee. "How's that going anyway?"

"It's great," Goku said with a wide grin as he hoisted himself up so he was sitting on her desk. "It's so good for the vets to come in and blow off some steam in a good way. Channel all of that emotion positively, you know?"

"Hmm…" Bulma quietly turned back to her work computer at the thought of veterans. Her mind briefly wandered to the man she had met a couple of weeks prior, and her brow furrowed. "You know, when you were in the Marines…" she started, before pausing and shaking her head. "Actually, never mind."

"What?" he asked, half-amused and half-intrigued. "Now you have to tell me."

"I was just going to ask if you knew someone who also served, but what are the odds, you know? The Marine Corps isn't exactly small."

"Won't know unless you ask," he teased. "Try me, I have a lot of friends who served with me. Plus a lot of vets come to my class too. Maybe I know who you're thinking about."

"Well…I met a guy a couple weeks ago…" she started, looking at her computer.

She bit her bottom lip as images flashed in her mind – her hand caressing that strong jaw line as he leaned over her, his intense dark eyes drinking her in as he slowly undressed her, his strong, rough, manly hands on her lower back as he pulled her on top of him while he was still hard inside her

Bulma blinked and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Victor, the mysterious stranger from the neighborhood bar, had vanished by the time she woke the next morning. Still, he crossed her mind at least once a day – more, if she stayed at home with nothing to occupy her thoughts. Hence her long hours.

"He said his name was Victor," Bulma continued, looking back at Goku in curiosity. She didn't know why she was even bothering; she hadn't even gone back to the bar to look for him again, and was content for it to be a one night stand. Still, she was a detective and curiosity drove her to try her luck with Goku – what else did she have to lose? She frowned thoughtfully. "He served 6 years. He was about an inch taller than me. Really intense look about him…he had these dark eyes that were just…like he could see through you, you know? He had black hair, spiked up. He also had a tattoo sleeve on his left arm, going up over his shoulder a little on his back. It was a dragon tattoo."

"Huh," Goku mumbled. The usual easygoing smile was gone, a serious look on his face now. He sucked at his front teeth a little with his tongue, crossing his arms over his chest. "Sorry, it doesn't ring a bell. But if a guy named Victor comes into our class with a tat like that, I'll be sure to let you know."

"Thanks, Goku, but it doesn't really matter to me anyway," Bulma dismissively said, not wanting to venture further into the topic. Her estranged boyfriend was close with Goku, after all, and the less she thought of the mysterious stranger, the better. "I have enough on my plate," she sighed, gesturing to the newspaper for him to take a look at. Goku leaned over to look at the headline while she took another drink of her coffee.

"Media's on it now, eh?" he asked, unsurprised. "Whoever's doing this is getting everyone all spun up. The murders are piling up."

"Yep. And guess who Chief put in charge of the investigation?" Bulma asked with a small grin.

"Well then this will be over soon!" he said with a bigger grin. "You got any leads?"

A thoughtful look came on her face. "I'm working a few. Get this, though. The newspaper is saying it's multiple people doing this, but everything I'm getting from my sources is pointing to just one person being behind all this."

"One person?" he cried out, his eyes wide. He then snorted in mild disbelief. "You really think one person would be that nuts to go after Frieza's guys like that?"

Bulma pursed her lips. They had been after Frieza for years, knowing that he was at the heart of the violence in West City. Unfortunately, he had many corrupt politicians, judges, and police officers in his pocket, and seemingly endless resources with his millions of dollars as a "businessman". Trying to nail him was looking like a career-long endeavor. Still, the violence currently targeting Frieza's men was shocking to everyone in the department; it was a bold and violent strategy that could only be done outside of the law.

"That's what the path is leading to, but I only got the case a few days ago, so I'm still trying to figure it out. But I will definitely figure it out," she swore with determination. The violent men that worked for Frieza were now slowly meeting an even more violent end, at the hands of some mysterious vigilante. It didn't matter if she believed deep down that they deserved it. She represented the law, and she could not condone any vigilante justice; she would end it, just like she always ended the run of bad guys when she put her mind to it.

Goku smiled and nodded. "Yeah well, just don't forget to get some sleep once in a while." He took a glance over at the clock, and then hopped off her desk. "Well, I ought to get going, or I'll be late for my own class. Gotta pay the bills after all!"

Bulma smirked, amused. "You could move up to detective and make more money that way."

"Nahhh," he said with a playful grin. "I do what I do, and you do what you do. Catch you later!" he waved, heading to the elevator.

"See ya."


Vegeta took in a deep breath, and then exhaled slowly, steadying his body and specifically his hands as he held his finger gently on the trigger of his sniper rifle. He was sprawled out on his stomach on a rooftop close to the edge, one eye closed as he carefully aimed through his scope. The concrete on top of the building was cold and damp that night, but he didn't notice through his body armor and his black hoodie he wore over that. His sleeves were pushed up to his forearm, just enough to show off the beginning of a dragon tattoo sleeve that ran up his left arm. Others would have probably made sure to cover it, not wanting to be recognized – but he was alone on the rooftop, and the street was silent beneath him. Vegeta's rifle moved an infinitesimal amount with his breaths, but that was just fine – he wasn't ready to fire just yet. For now, he was merely observing.

Lights turned on in the abandoned bar across the street now, drawing his attention. A group of tough-looking gangsters started trickling into the bar, from the back to avoid being seen on the street. He couldn't see their faces clearly from the angle he had, unless they came closer to the glass. Vegeta scowled, his crosshairs hovering over the glass window, as he slowly took the gun off safety with a click. He had prepared ahead of time. Through the scope of his rifle, he could see the subtle explosive device he had planted in the bar earlier that day, though he doubted any of them would notice it, unless they looked for it. They also would never find the listening bug he had planted either.

The audio ear piece he had tucked in his ear suddenly whirred to life with the activity in the bar. Vegeta's finger gently squeezed the trigger and then his whole body held steady as stone, ready to fire. He then waited, and listened.

"That's ten guys in two weeks, shot dead!"

"And there were two guys who were beaten by what looks like someone's bare hands, remember?"

"What's Frieza saying?"

"Lieutenants are running with it, captain orders from Zarbon. They want whoever is responsible found and brought in alive, all of them. It's up to us at the street level to handle it."

"People are saying it's just one guy."

"I don't believe that. No fucking way."

"Who are we thinking it could be?"

"Someone with access to military grade weapons."

"Lieutenant orders are to investigate every killing over the last year, and look into surviving family members." Vegeta's scowl deepened at that, his teeth grinding together. "It's a goddamn vigilante, and it has revenge written all over it. Maybe if we look into the family members, we may find something-"

Vegeta suddenly squeezed the trigger all the way, firing one well aimed shot that broke through the glass before the word was finished.

A heartbeat later, the bar exploded, the windows shattering and flames engulfing the building. He opened both eyes then and surveyed the violence below for a couple of seconds with a frown, and then withdrew in silence.

Down below, one of Frieza's young soldiers named Cui had been standing outside the back of the bar relieving himself while everyone else had gone on inside for the meeting. He was just zipping up, when the bar suddenly exploded. He was far enough away that he wasn't injured, but he was still close enough that it knocked him roughly to the ground.

In shock and out of sheer self preservation, Cui scurried as far away from the building as he could manage. He dove into a ground level window that was left open in the next building, roughly dropping into what looked like an old basement. A quick glance around told him he was alone in the basement, which was good – still, he took out his handgun just in case. He quietly closed the dirty window he had fallen through, and then looked out through it.

Just as he closed it, a man quickly rounded the back of the bar that was on fire, holding a rifle. He had it aimed up directly in front of him, the rear of the weapon wedged firmly against his shoulder as he made sure the space was clear. Just from his smooth movements, Cui knew he had military expertise. He couldn't make out who he was from the window, but he could see that he had dark hair that was standing straight up like a flame. With flames in the background, the mystery man looked like a demon. Cui gulped, knowing it was the vigilante that had been giving them hell.

Vegeta surveyed the back alley behind the bar, sweeping the area with his rifle for a potential survivor. He turned his gun to the building behind the alley in suspicion, making Cui duck out of sight from the window, when a man suddenly burst through the inferno caused by his explosion. Vegeta spun back to to him, but the man was screaming, his clothes on fire.

Vegeta watched this man as he dropped on the ground and rolled around to put out the flames while he screamed in pain. His nose twitched, but otherwise he made no move for several long moments, letting the fire burn the man. When it became clear that the man rolling on the ground was about to put the flames out, Vegeta finally raised his gun. With no hesitation or remorse, he aimed at the man's head and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot seemed to echo in the night, and the screaming was silenced.


Soaked in sweat, Goku discarded his drenched tank top and sat down heavily on a bench. The light wasn't strong in the basement of the church he was in, but it was perfect to run his monthly class. All they needed were the mats anyways in the make-shift gym. He was an expert in several different martial arts, and combined with his veteran status and word of mouth, he had a decent crowd that came now to his classes. It filled him with a deep satisfaction, being able to provide a good environment for fellow veterans to release their stress. He also loved the physical aspect of it, and found it kept him sharp for his own work.

His cell phone then vibrated with a text as he was removing his wrist tape. Goku snatched it up, and then frowned when he saw the text from Krillin.

Heads up Goku. Another incident, north end. Another 11 down. I just let Bulma know.

"Bit of a shithole to run a class in, don't you think?" a gruff voice asked in amusement.

Goku looked up from his phone. Across the mats on the floor, in the corner next to the door that led to the stairs outside, he could see a glimpse of a familiar man, standing with his arms crossed over his chest. Vegeta's face was obscured by some shadows, as the dim lighting didn't fully reach into that corner, but Goku would have probably recognized the other man in pitch black darkness. Goku had bonded with many while he had served, both in the Marines and as a police officer, but nothing had the depth like the bond he had with Vegeta. They had forged their brotherhood in blood, war, and death, the two best their unit had to offer, unstoppable when they worked together. Goku had a real brother, and yet didn't learn the real meaning of the word until he served, and the man before him was a huge reason why.

"You're a couple hours late for the class tonight. Too bad. You could have helped me run it," Goku said casually, earning a snort of disdain from the other man.

"Who says I'd want to?"

"You tell me, Victor."

Something changed in the way Vegeta was standing, a subtle shift, before he asked in a neutral voice, "She's mentioned me?"

"She just asked if I knew you."

There was a moment of silence that stretched uncomfortably long, until Vegeta curiously asked, "What did you say?"

"I said I didn't. If you gave Bulma a fake name, I figured it's because you weren't interested in seeing her again," Goku reasoned. Vegeta stayed silent at that, but Goku could see the way he tightened his arms across his chest. He sighed. "What is it, Vegeta?"

Vegeta shrugged and looked away. "You're always inviting me to this class shit you run. Maybe I just wanted to see the place for myself."

"You should definitely come, especially after…well, what happened," Goku said, frowning in concern. "How are you doing with all of that anyway? Are you alright? I've been trying to reach you since the funeral, but you've been tough to get a hold-"

"I'm fine, Kakarot," came the biting, ice-cold response.

Goku sighed. "You know you don't have to keep calling me by my call sign for the rest of my life, right?"

"I've been calling you that for almost a decade, can't expect me to change now."

"Well, you didn't come to talk about Bulma, or about what happened, so what did you need, Vegeta?"

"I had a question about what the police are going to do with the vigilante."

Goku raised his eyebrows. He paused for a moment, before standing and making his way over to the other man until they were face to face. Goku had a serious look on his face as he studied the dark and intense eyes of the man before him for some long moments.

"I think it's for the best that I don't answer anything about that," Goku finally said. Vegeta raised his chin slightly, easily holding the stare.

"Oh? And why is that?" he challenged.

Goku narrowed his eyes with an intense look that Vegeta recognized very well. It was the look he had worn every time they had embarked on dangerous missions together.

"You saved my life out there, you know. Twice. And I'll never, ever forget that. I owe you, forever. So because of that, I'll tell you this, Vegeta. It's only a matter of time before this vigilante, whoever that may be, is either arrested or killed…unless, he smartens up and quits while he's ahead. That'd be my advice to him. To quit and find a better way to channel his rage and grief, because once we identify him, if I ever come across him, I'll have to bring him down. I'd hate to do it, but I will do my job."

Vegeta's intense glare was unflinching. "Well, I wish you the best of luck if it comes to that, Kakarot. I have a feeling you will need it."

A heavy silence fell between the two men as they both studied the other, until Goku's phone vibrated in his hand. He frowned and looked down at it, seeing that it was a text from Bulma.

"Duty calls?" Vegeta deadpanned.

"It's a text from Bulma, she's on the latest vigilante crime scene," Goku said, not missing Vegeta's eye twitching at hearing her name. "I will tell you one thing about what we're doing. Bulma just got put in charge of the investigation to find who is doing this."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. "Is that a fact?"

"It is, and she always figures it out, since she's our best detective. It's really only a matter of time."

"Well I wish her the best of luck as well," Vegeta drawled. He glanced at a clock on the wall and grunted. "It's always a pleasure, Kakarot, but I have other business to attend to." With that, he turned towards the door, but paused when Goku spoke again.

"Vegeta, please think about what I said," Goku said, concern on his face as he stared at Vegeta's back.

"You have your duty, Kakarot, and I have mine."

And then he was gone.