Disclaimer: I haven't slept in… 30 hours. I know that has nothing to do with the chapter two.

The OC page, once again, is updated, this time with Dorai's character art.

He forgot that lines were so cumbersome to stand and wait in. Not being one to engage in social activities, even in a universe where Namekku-sei-jin seemed to be everywhere, he kept himself away from crowds and chattering groups of people. It didn't matter to him, anyway. He wasn't much more than a murderous bandit for the past few months he'd been there; to make associations would probably be more harm than good.

The line he was in was particularly annoying; there were several branching from the multitude of windows along the breadth of the box office, making his surroundings, effectively, a mass of chattering people, fiddling around with their pocket books and making guesses among themselves about their bets. If any of these men and women were Agoraphobic, they were dealing with it quite well.

But the only thing that actually bothered Piccolo was the huge amount of money he held before him, given to him by Atsarute for the betting. She counted the whole thing out before him earlier, and he recalled how awkward he felt as she measured out the amount, coming up with a large number that he figured must have been large when he considered the prices displayed in the windows of stores (that being the only touch of economy he would have had any exposure to on this planet).

At length, he reached the window. The man inside puffed some sort of cigar and coughed before speaking. "Next fight is between the arena's champion behemoth, Gkalht, and a woman that claims to be Atsarute. Gkalht's stats are on the board beside me. Challenger announced death situation. Whatch'a betting for and how much?"

Piccolo pulled up the bag and dropped it down with a clatter before him. "Thirty-five thousand saers on the challenger."

The man's mouth went agape, and it seemed a wonder that the cigar didn't fall out of it. He quickly brought the bag down and counted its contents before documenting it and pressing out a small clay ticket and passing it to the Namek. After he waved him away, he heard him mumble, "That woman really must be Atsarute."

A slight smirk came to Piccolo's face as he walked away, now staring at the small clay ticket that was given to him. Why would the tickets be made of clay rather than paper or something of the like? There's certainly enough paper to go around, since I saw enough flyers and signs around the place. He didn't wonder long, however, since he had to find the place he was to sit, and with the large amount of people, it wasn't a simple matter.

The only difference the bleachers had from the lines was that he had a place to sit. People still chattered about the fight and how much they bet and on whom. There were a few more mentions of the challenger being Atsarute, but it was debunked as her being dead (a few said that she never used her real name in arenas anyway) and instantly turned into a different conversation. From what he heard, very few people were on the challenger's side of the bet. She'll probably get more fucking rich from the gambling than from the reward.

Even with the clatter, he heard something come from under the bleachers: creaking, as if that from a large, metal gate. It was followed with some yelling, and then a low growl of some sort of creature. Dosun, dosun, dosun. It sounded kind of like footsteps. Huge footsteps. He could almost feel them. What the Hell is she fighting?

There were two equally large holes in the ground level of the arena, which must have served for passageways. He heard the steps walk around and go towards the one to his right. He sighed and searched for Atsarute's ki on the other side, ending fruitless. She's controlling it. Figures. And with so many ki around that are higher than Human, it would be hard to find anything being repressed like that.

The fighters came out simultaneously. To his right was what he assumed to be Gkalht. It was a true titan, to say the least, probably a good twenty times Piccolo's size and height. The thing was red and glistening with its own slime, grinding a toothy maw without lips to hide it and shaking its ruddy, scabrous head about to look at the cheering crowd with its black beads that it had for eyes. It's nostrils (as he supposed they were, since it didn't really have a nose) flared a bit with its aggravated exhale before it went into stance and flung its head at the audience, emitting a horrendous roar.

The ghastly sight almost made Piccolo forget to look at his left, to his general woman who was still suppressing her ki. The first thing he noticed: she chose the hide strap one. Her expression, however, would have struck him as looking bored if it weren't for a slight twitch of amusement that he was able to catch on her mouth. Her cool disposition, in stark contrast to the raving colossus before her, just seemed to make her more attractive.

He didn't get to admire her still form long. Gkalht took little time to take action and bring a three-pronged fist crashing down to her. She rolled out of the way to her right, just in time for the other hand to pound the ground by her other side. The great rumble in the ground that was created should have made her have difficulty in moving without falling on her face (as well as create fissures in the floor if it had been made of any Earth material), but it did not.

Tired of dodging the boulders of red flesh, Atsarute went straight for his legs and ripped her fist through the skin of its left shin. A howl of pain bellowed from the thing and it threw its tail towards her as it spun around its huge frame to face her again. Instead of pounding down its fists again, it shot down its powerful jaws, meaning to snap them closed on her. Atsarute jumped upwards and landed on his snout and ran up between its eyes to its forehead. It stood and flung its head around, so she dug her claws into its brow and rode out the motions, thrown around in such a way that she looked like a cord connected to its face, a scene that would have been comical if it weren't so frightening.

The momentum eventually tore her out of its face, but she was able to control her trajectory even as it once again tried raining on her with its momentous fists. She disappeared behind the crimson blur of attacks, and Piccolo was unsure if she was hit or not. Then he saw her, perched upon a tall column in the circle, staring straight back at him with a half-smirk and dark eyes. She seemed to project to him a thought, Now I'll show you why speed's so vital in these fights.

The general shot off like a bullet to the back of the creature and succeeded a strike on the spine, just above the lumbar region. It roared and spun to attack, but she had already gone to his neck and spiked down on the collarbone. Piccolo could hear the crack of the bone that followed the strike, after she had already left for her next hit.

The devastating contacts didn't seem incredibly vital, yet they were obviously planned. They all seemed to be aimed to making its bones shatter in specific areas, mostly around the neck, but he couldn't place why. But Gkalht's movements were slowing; every time it tried to fling its head, it seemed to be going through extreme pain. Under its skin in that area, it darkened, as if blood was pooling and clotting. I see… the shattered bones are severing its muscles as it flings its head to and fro to keep its eyes on Atsarute. Is she planning to…?

After a few more hits and jumps, she stops and stands on the ground, nodding as if confirming that her preparation is finished. Gkalht sneered and dragged itself around to face her again, its muscles twitching in pain. Its eyes narrowed at her and another unearthly howl, this time more detached than ever, split from its toothed maw and peeled-back lips. One more lunge was made to her, this time a flared one as it threw its whole body.

He didn't even see the final strike until afterwards, with her extended leg pulling back as Gkalht's head split from its base, the blood pressure finishing the job of wrenching it away before spraying around the floor. Rents ran down its body, and it continued to fall forward, the liquid now spilling over her like a thick flood. Since she had just repealed from a strong attack, she didn't have time to escape the wave, and was covered.

That's when chaos erupted in the audience. A sound (one that was deafening to Piccolo's Namekku-sei-jin ears) thundered through with a piercing flash of light, followed by a thick, black cloud. It immediately caused a riot in the stands, and people could be heard fighting and screaming all over, if he was able to hear anything more than ringing.

Atsarute wiped her eyes and pulled her soaked hair from her eyes to peer at what all the commotion was, and a sinking feeling entered into her stomach. Oh no… "Piccolo!"

The fighting seemed to reach him, and he couldn't help but feel a similarity to Loam Bistro and Jailbait. He found himself thwarting the hostility with his own fists, as blind and deaf as he was, and even the ki of those around him flickered on and off. But when the cloud settled and dispersed, and the ringing dulled, he found that he was among the few of his part of the wing that still stood.

And a few meters before him, Atsarute stood, blinking in amazement. Her astonished face slowly changed to show proud content as she exhaled and stood erect, a smile turning on her lips.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"I'm sorry, Piccolo. I honestly forgot to tell you that the gangs hold a huge part in the gambling, and when they lose, some of them do things like that to cause confusion. Those carbon bombs are actually rather unique to this place, which is why the tickets are clay instead of paper, so that the carbon doesn't ruin your ticket and you're unable to collect."

Piccolo didn't answer with anything more than an inaudible huff, making a small dark puff float from him. "You got your damn money, right? Lets just get back to the ship and leave!"

"Fine, fine…" She shrugged… and began to chuckle lightly.

"…And what's with you?"

"You're covered with soot."

"And you're covered with blood. Your point?"

"My point is that you look ridiculous, though I imagine that I don't look so hot right now."

I beg to differ, he scoffed in his mind. "Is there a specific reason that you chose the leather one instead of that web one?"

"Huh? You mean the outfit? And why do you care? Hmm?"

"Can't I be curious?"

"Oh very well. I figured this one was going to be messy, so I chose the one that's easier to clean."

"A pity I didn't know that the same problem would apply to me."

"I said that I'm sorry… Are you going to nag me about it?"

"Just until we get washed."

"Hmm…" She stared up at the sky thoughtfully. "Piccolo… in honesty… I was worried that you wouldn't be able to protect yourself in that situation."

"Is that an insult?"

"No… but I didn't know that you progressed so quickly…" She smiled at him. "I should tell you that Katatsu requested of me to tutor you a bit in military strategy and tactic if your strength raised enough for it. He still means to have you as a general."

"And he didn't tell me shit after he tested me. So he tells you instead?" He growled. "I told him that I wasn't interested…"

"You should consider it, Piccolo. Those carbon bombs are designed to disorient, but you managed to keep from getting hurt in the panic. And I saw your talent as an intellectual fighter when sparring with you… You could be a great leader… and you'll have one of the largest armies under your control."

"I don't see the point…"

"You don't? Fine. What is your goal in life now, Piccolo?"

"…What?"

She sighed. "You don't, do you?"

"Do you?"

"Heh… fuck off." She made a hiss and quickened her pace a little and pulled in front of him.

Interesting attitude change… He studied her walking before her and saw a spot on her back that was bare of both blood and leather. He reached forward and scratched lightly.

And so, while he was covered with soot, a blood-covered woman chased him back to the ship… perhaps not the most honorable moment in Piccolo's life.

Dosun – Japanese onomatopoeia. Pretty much described as the sound of stomping or thudding.
I'm in college now. So production shall slow (if you've noticed, it's already slowed… but it was mostly because I was without my computer in some form or another).
An extra note: Fuck FEMA and fuck Brownie... with Arabian horses if possible.