Vegeta grunted in satisfaction when he felt the gravity increase to the desired goal of 800 times g. He blasted into the air, back into the fray where he had been at for the past three hours. He twirled acrobatically several times before landing on his feet and blasted forwards, flipping end over end. Upon landing, his fists were already a blur, pulverizing the imaginary enemy that had been frustrating him for the past several weeks. As if on cue, multiple training droids appeared from several corners and began firing energy blasts at Vegeta. Their armor and contours were already severely singed; black charcoaled marks and noticeable sharp dents, all recent, ran up and down their bodies, scarring what had once been a pure silverfish appearance. The prince deftly dodged the blasts, weaving to and fro like a fly trying to avoid the interminable golden rays of the sun.
Several blasts were unerring and found their mark, singing his flesh with sharp and painful hisses; Vegeta gritted his teeth and continued his frantic aerial maneuvering, his dark eyes focused in sharp concentration keeping track of the movements of the bots, his senses keen, feeling for the tell-tale signs of ki attack. However, even he was beginning to feel the toll of several hours' worth of continuous training. Another blast hit his back and a deep frustrating bile started to well up within the back of Vegeta's throat. The next bot came into view and he immediately held up one outstretched gloved hand and blasted it apart with a gigantic blue wave. With the loss of one of their numbers, the intensity of the onslaught slackened for a few seconds before the bots began increasing their rate of fire to compensate.
Vegeta ignored the heightened rate of fire and poured several weeks' worth of pent up frustration into his muscles. His ki flared up tremendously, billowing winds of rage and energy leapt out and swatted the swarm of ki blasts swirling towards the prince. With a tremendous roar, Vegeta took advantage of the reprieve in the bombardment and leapt into the air, blasting out of existence each of the training bots surrounding him.
He landed; sweat pouring down his forehead, his muscles still bulging from the over- abundance of energy still swirling through them vociferously protested his exertions, desperately struggling against the over crushing gravity. Dark tired eyes looked at the black heap of ashes that had once been advanced training droids. Bulma was going to be angry and that was ignoring the other bit of news he was going to have to tell her. Vegeta could already hear her screeching about the amount of work required to build new droids from scratch and how she had just repaired them. Never mind it was only because of him that she had access to such designs, which brought him back to his current quandary now that he had finished his training for the day.
Vegeta walked back to the controls and powered down the gravity room. He glanced through a window pane towards the hallway outside the room, his gaze landed on the prone sleeping form of very young son. Trunks had apparently fallen asleep during the two and a half hours he had spent waiting outside for Vegeta to finish training. The boy had only been able to participate for 30 minutes before nearly passing out from trying to master the 50 g's Vegeta had used as a light warm-up before limping out of the GR room afterwards. A slight surge of warm pride permeated Vegeta's heart. To think his son was already handling such intense training, already leagues ahead of that fool Kakarot and his brat, and yes even himself, when they were his age. But he hadn't let his pride show on his face when Trunks had crawled out of the room in defeat with only a half-taunting gaze from his father to escort him out.
Vegeta walked outside into the hallway and scooped his son onto his shoulder and headed to drop the boy off to his bedchamber. After finishing the task, instead of going to take a shower as was normal, Vegeta went back to the GR, sat down cross legged, closed his eyes, and forced his turbulent mind to calm down and analyze the puzzling sequence of events that had occurred over the last few weeks.
"So you just agreed to go with the agents, and you didn't kill them or inflict irreparable bodily damage on them? That was so sweet of you Vegeta, I knew you were a big softie," Bulma smiled with a big grin.
His taut expression slightly twitched at being called soft.
"Yes," Vegeta bristled, trying to continue with his explanation. "While I was in their installation, I noticed much of their equipment including their armor was similar to Saiyan technology. As I recall, the only organization that has access to such technology is yours Bulma. I have already explained everything so now I would like an explanation," Vegeta crossed his arms and intently looked at her.
"I don't know what you're suggesting, but I'm not giving important Saiyan secrets away," Bulma wagged her finger admonishingly, "but if there is a leak somewhere in Capsule Corp then I'll find it. I'll go talk to the guy who deals with military contract. That would be Rob Boyle, he's in charge of all that stuff, and see if he knows what's going on. If I find anything, I'll get back to you as soon as possible. In the meantime, I don't want you to get involved in this, I especially do not want you to go flying down and harming or scaring the daylights out of this man or anyone else involved. Does that sound fine?"
"Fine," Vegeta grunted. "But only as long as answers are forthcoming soon."
The scene flash-forwarded several days. Bulma true to her word had interrogated the high ranking executive. What she reported back with, however, wasn't terribly enlightening. The equipment Boyle had received and sold was all coming out of the CC R&D department. However, what was being released was being done incrementally, separate component by separate individual component, and only ever in response to a government contract order. Each individual part came from a different research team, and by themselves might've not been enough to raise suspicion on their own. Just the typical CC ingenuity in fast pace advancement, or so Bulma keeps telling him. However, the damning thing was that each component was more advanced than they had any right being, even if they were being designed by top flight engineers and scientists. How so many teams could have such a sharp jump in skill was puzzling. They had to be receiving help, but records and surveillance indicated no overt shady dealings occurring. Bulma had pressed the research team managers on the subject, but they were equally as flabbergasted as well. Apparently their underlings were randomly getting sudden and increasingly more frequent bursts of inspiration. Furthermore, communication with and further discrete data gathering by Bulma on rival companies had turned up similar strange phenomena occurring. Scientists stumped one day would have a brilliant solution the next, technical designs and what not were mysteriously appearing out of the air. All of them likewise had contracts and dealings with the growing military industrial complex on Earth.
Vegeta snorted in amusement at that, Bulma's own personal department and there were things that not even she knew was going on. "Hey, I can't be expected to keep track of every wheeling and dealing that goes on here, Capsule Corp's a big place!" he recalled her shrill protest when he had brought that up. He supposed that even her own obsessive personality could prove detrimental at times, preventing her from noticing things that were going on right under her own nose.
"Why don't you directly ask the engineers where they're getting their bouts of inspiration from? I could provide a little persuasion if necessary," Vegeta had said, cracking his knuckles.
"No, who or whatever's going on, it might be scared off if we get a little forward. We'd best continue be subtle about our investigation," Bulma cupped her chin with her hand and tilted her head slightly pensively before audibly sighing. "If there is someone out there feeding information, they're undoubtedly very advanced to be able to escape detection so I think we might have to resort to more unconventional means."
Vegeta's eyes perked up at the implication of that last remark. "I guess even great genius scientist needs help every now and then as well," he smirked.
Bulma replied with a slight scowl. "Don't push it in, besides, you'd be doing this as much for yourself as you'd be doing it for me. I bet this mystery is just killing you inside," she laughed and poked a hand at Vegeta's stomach. "And remember what I said, no killing, and no maiming, no frightening, nothing that could be construed as threatening, especially with my employees. If you have doubts over how I'd consider your action, then don't do it. Other than that, good luck out there tiger! I'll continue my lookout from here and see if I can't turn up anything more."
Vegeta leaned backwards, feeling the cold smooth walls of the GR greeting his back. The feeling was soothing, cooling down the aching muscles in that region. Vegeta dipped his head and rubbed his temples, willing the scene back into memory.
So it was with Bulma's blessings that Vegeta had then started tracking this Robert Boyle, checking his every action and seeing whom he was meeting with. The rather plain and boring executive was, however, a good little worker drone and never did anything untoward. Vegeta had been tempted at times to merely swoop in and intimidate the answers out of the man, but he had promised Bulma he would let her try her way first. Until one instance that occurred several days later.
Boyle had just completed another unremarkable day in his drab office in this boring city. Vegeta had been floating invisibly overhead, his eagle eyes intently focused on his prey. Thousands of meters of space and a thin cloudy pane of glass separated the two, but Vegeta could see his target as sharply as if he was standing by him. The bulging excess fat from years of decadence and luxury rolled off the man's skin. His short dark hair combed and cut to perfection mirroring the latest fashion styles for middle aged executives was impeccable as ever. The mindless bantering and flirting with his increasingly blushing secretary disgusted Vegeta, but he persevered. Years of training honing his willpower in addition to ki had been the only tenuously link keeping Vegeta's mind wedged in sanity over the past week. However, a vibrating cell phone in the man's left pants leg interrupted his flirtation with the pretty red-lipped secretary.
Boyle answered the phone and began speaking frantically into it. Vegeta couldn't make out what he was saying, but whatever it was about it seemed to have riled the normally composed executive up. He was beginning to gesticulate wildly into the air before slamming the phone closed and exiting the building, leaving the bewildered woman behind in his wake. Boyle climbed into his car and started heading to wherever his destination was, Vegeta not too far behind several thousand meters up ahead. Surprisingly, the normally placid man who drove oh so carefully started weaving in and out of traffic, breaking most traffic laws in his urgency in arriving at wherever his destination was.
Following over 30 minutes of frenetic driving, Boyle arrived at the perimeter of what seemed to be an abandoned warehouse in the middle of the industrial sector of the city. Vegeta swooped in closer, the increasing density of buildings in the urban area giving him more cover. Boyle stepped out of his car and began hesitantly walking towards the looming building, his nervous gaze glancing everywhere around him. Sweat was already beginning to stream down the back of his neck, contrasting against the cool evening air. Vegeta waited for him to enter before silently slipping into the back, his senses heightened, searching for the mysterious person or persons Boyle was visiting and was obviously so terrified of.
"Well, well, well, so nice of you to finally make it Mr. Boyle," a loud voice boomed once Boyle had reached the center of the building. Vegeta, still trailing close behind, crouched behind several pieces of old rusty machinery. He focused his eyes on the two dark figures standing in the center of the crowded building who were the only visible figures greeting the trembling Capsule Corp executive.
Now that he was closer to them, he could sense their cloaked energies, and they were just different, completely unnatural. Where normal energy usually seemed rich and full of life, Vegeta felt nothing but what could be only described as vast voids occupying the spots where the two stood. The speaker was a large bald bulky human. He wore black tank top that revealed an unnaturally greyish skin complexion and loose-fitting sports pants. But what was more unnatural was the stylish M that seemed to be inscribed on the man's forehead. Though his power was greater than that of a normal human's, Vegeta could still sense how pitiful it was when stacked against his own. The other figure was at least a meter taller and was cloaked in ornate blue white armor. His skin was a light reddish color with twin horns protruding from his forehead, lending an intimidating sort of gravitas to his otherwise princely demeanor. He was obviously not human but also had the large M tattooed upon his forehead. Furthermore, his power was more difficult to get an accurate gauging of. The difficulty in measuring his strength and the unusualness of it all combined to make Vegeta feel the slightest bit of apprehension.
"You know my master is a man with limited patience, so why must you insist on constantly testing it Mr. Boyle?" the original bald figure said.
"F…f…forgive me," Boyle barely sputtered out, his twitching back and forth between the bald and horned man. "I was just trying to make sure no one was following me, that's all."
"A wise and sensible precaution Mr. Boyle. My masters values them dearly. But what they value even more so are results indicating wisdom and sensibility. Yet the progress in implementing the designs and technology we've so generously gifted you with has been stalling as of late. They most displeased with this inconvenience, most displeased. Do not forget who it was who gifted you with positions of importance and respected, for what can be given can also be taken," the bald man said serenely, his threatening smile fixated on the terrified executive's face.
"I'm aware of the delays," Boyle almost inaudibly croaked out. "But I think Bulma Briefs is getting suspicions. She's been making inquiries at the pace of our progress, and I just can't answer them all without raising suspicion. If I could just have a little bit more time, I'll have this whole situation sorted out. Please, you have to believe me."
"Bulma…" the bald man slowly said, laughing in derision. "You mean the upstart bitch with pretensions of grandeur?" Vegeta clenched his fists in response. He had promised Bulma he wouldn't harm any of her employees but he had made no mention of the wellbeing towards other impertinent fools. Still, he steeled himself; he hadn't suffered this long just to waste this opportunity.
"Yes, well, bitch though she may be, she's still the CFO of Capsule," Boyle said, his body straightening up trying to compose himself. "But she's no big deal, like I said, I'll take care of her, just give me a little bit more time and this will all be taken care of."
The bald man brushed off the comment with a flicker of his wrist, "It's alright actually. I remember seeing a few pictures of her on the evening news." He smiled lecherously. "Boy is she a looker. If she wasn't such a stuck up feisty bitch, man! Actually, you know what Boyle? I think I'd rather you not take care of her. I think I want to do it myself, I bet she's feisty in the sack, what do you think Boyle?"
Vegeta's anger flared for a split second at the disrespect being shown towards his mate, this man was going to pay for his impudent tongue.
The taller red-skinned man who had remained silent throughout the entire exchange suddenly turned his head towards Vegeta's position. Shit. Vegeta thought. That's just great, these assholes can sense ki as well.
The horned dark figure turned from the discussion taking place and began walking towards where Vegeta was crouching.
"It seems you didn't lose all your trackers completely Mr. Boyle," an unearthly voice emanated from the figure. "Come out whoever you are if you value your life."
Well, Vegeta thought to himself. I did want to rip the other man's limbs off.
"I'm right here," he proclaimed easily, stepping out of the shadows. "And I suggest you watch your tongue if you value your own."
"Ahh, another fleeting mortal here to grace my person before he dies," the red figure bowed towards Vegeta. "But where are my manners? I am Beelzebub. I do hope you scream my name loudly when I plunge my hands into your heart. The universe has blessed us with so many beautiful types of music, but none as graceful as the anguished whimpers of a dying life force desperately clawing for survival. I must admit, my dreary sojourn to this miserable planet and my own master's rather strict requirements have left me rather devoir of amusements, so I have but a simple request for you. If you could but give this old man the simple pleasure or screaming his name in agony when I erase your life force from this side of the universe, then I will make sure it shall be immortalized in the universal musical canon for all of eternity."
"Another haughty sadist too arrogant and drunk off his own power," Vegeta cross his arms over his chest. "Where have I seen that before?"
"If I may Master," the bald man spoke up, his tone suddenly much more respectful when addressing the other worldly presence. "I sense no great power from this man, he is nothing to trifle yourself over, oh great Eminence. I could personally erase this insect from your sight and present his heart as a trophy to your glorious might, if that is your desire." He bowed his head awaiting Beelzebub's response.
The horned figured cocked his head, glancing towards the short newcomer with jet-black hair, and back to his sycophantic servant. He smiled, the light gleaming eerily off his canines, before laughing heartily and raised his hands towards Vegeta, "You may do as you wish Spopovitch."
"I am forever in your debt Master," Spopovitch bowed then walked towards Vegeta, stopping a few inches from the shorter man. He placed one large gloved hand on Vegeta's shoulder and looked downwards. "I hope you have enjoyed a long life, for it will soon end."
Vegeta glanced towards an utterly gaping Boyle, his jaw hanging from his upper mandible. "I suggest you leave this area with all haste Mr. Boyle," Vegeta said casually. "Bulma would get pretty mad with me if I got her favorite Vice President killed. I won't tell you this twice."
"You're, you're Bulma's…" he began stuttering out.
"I think you should worry about your own safety friend," Spopovitch interrupted. He then started squeezing his hand that was on the short man's shoulder, expecting the bone to crush beneath his grip. Surprisingly, nothing happened.
Vegeta lazily looked back towards Spopovitch when he felt the slight pressure beginning to build on his shoulder. "I can take care of myself well enough. I would also greatly appreciate it if you would take your hand off my shoulder. I'm more interested in speaking with your master, not some sniveling servant."
"Oh you really are arrogant. Who's going to make me…" a wail of indescribable pain replaced the rest of Spopovitch's sentence. His eyes, still delirious in shocked horror, widened in utter incomprehensibility as he watched Vegeta wordlessly toss aside the limp limb that had just been attached to what was now a stump on his shoulder, now oozing away oodles of blood.
"Me." Vegeta took a half step forward and sank his fist through Spopovitch's stomach and out the back. A bath of crimson blood showered the Prince's entire body as Spopovitch screamed his dying throes. Vegeta pulled his hand out then blasted the dying warrior away. He then flared his ki, vaporizing the blood stains covering his body.
Clap, clap, clap. Beelzebub walked forwards, a maniacal feral grin plastered on his face. "What magnificent, what elegance, what style! Oh, I haven't seen such beauty in so long. Mortals on this planet are usually so dull, but you, you surely are something special" He laughed a deep haunting laugh before a scream of sheer terror from Boyle interrupted his reverie.
"Ve…Vegeta, you just killed him! But how?"
"Oh, you're still here," Beelzebub said in annoyance before lifting one hand and blasting him away, killing him instantly. Vegeta slightly winced inwardly, Bulma was going to be furious he let one of her people get killed. "Where were we?" the saccharine voice continued. "Ah yes, I do have to congratulate you on your craftsmanship. The combinations of instant pain, terror, and destruction you inflicted upon poor, poor Spopovitch was a work of beauty, a sign of a true master craftsman. One can only wonder what must have raced through poor Spopovitch's head at the last second, besides that last wave of energy of course" Beelzebub chucked at his own joke. "Though, if I could have but one critique, speaking as one artist to another, it was that your work was a little short for my taste, I prefer mine to last longer to better savor every aspect of the experience."
Vegeta cocked an eyebrow at the obviously deranged lunatic. Great, Frieza with horns.
"But it would be so unfair for you to demonstrate your own skills without a return gesture from yours truly," Beelzebub said, seemingly oblivious to the bemused expression forming on Vegeta's face. "However, like sculptors require a bust from which to impose a vision, I too need a living medium to carve out my art. Unfortunately, you've taken the liberty of already using Spopovitch, and I suppose I was a little careless with eliminating the other option. Though I have to admit my dubiousness at how long he could've held up under my watchful hands. So it is with a tiniest bit of regret that I must inform you that my exemplary art shall have to be put on display with you, the mysterious and dashing young artist that has so captured my admiration. Oh, but it is so perfect, your example is what shall truly lead to my best piece."
Vegeta's face somehow tightened even further. Yes, definitely crazy.
Beelzebub stopped his forward pace and frowned as he looked around the dark warehouse. "No, no, no, this just won't do. This is a terrible environment for an artist to work," he muttered to himself. His expression brightened though as an idea struck him. "I know," he exclaimed then flicked his wrist.
Vegeta sharply sucked in some air as he felt himself being violently pulled and distorted for an instant. After regaining his composure, he looked around shocked at finding himself in a completely different environment. Where he had once been surrounding with squat rusting equipment was now a large expansive reddish plain with a green tinted sky overhead. Nothing was in sight save for the never ending rolling plain.
"Do you like it?" He heard the familiar creepy voice cry out. "This is my home, well not exactly, but a replica of it. Here we can practice our art without any constraints. What do you think?"
Vegeta clenched his fists and grinned. "I think it's perfect."