So here's Chapter 2! I'm sorry it took so long. I'd like to thank all the reviewers. Issac2000 in particular. When I read your review you made me chuckle for the first time in a very crappy day. So thanks for that. Also, don't forget to check out my one shot, Pig God's Usurp. Reviews for this story would be very helpful, so please don't be shy to critique my work. Oh, and um I made a mistake: I accidentally uploaded Chapter 2 in place of Chapter 1, and the original Chapter 1 isn't on my fanfiction doc manager. And to make it more annoying, the original word document is on my computer whose software is absent with a flashing folder, and I don't know how to fix it. So until I rewrite chapter 1 or find a way to fix my computer, Chapter 1 will be absent for the time being. Whether for a few days, which it will probably be, or at worst a week or two, just now why you see either two chapter 2's or no explanation for certain things stated in chapter 2. Anyway, here's chapter 2!
The cool air vented through the antique air conditioner, just barely giving the Caped Baldy enough insulation to cool his body. His alarm clock blared exponentially at the moment the hour hand hit 7. Like all the predecessors before this clock, it was utterly destroyed by Saitama's fist.
Saitama grudgingly opened his eyes, upset that his stupid alarm clock was halting his beauty sleep, but knowing he'd sleep another 4 hours if it wasn't there.. Rubbing his head and scratching his ass, he lazily rose from his bed. Yawning with fatigue as his crusty hands rubbed at his eyes, his senses were heightened at the aroma of freshly brewing eggs in his kitchen. "I could sure use some scrambled eggs." As if his prayers were answered, he saw Genos working at the oven, his right hand replaced with a wisk and his left hand adjusting the temperature of his oven.
"Those eggs are looking good, Genos." The disciple's cooking was interrupted at his master's voice. Genos performed a 90-degree turn, bowing his head in respect to his master. "Yes Master! I have prepared them with tomato slices and paprika, just how you like it done!" Saitama beamed, a rare expression he lost in exchange for his power. For Saitama, although Geno's pestering got on his nerves every now and then, his cooking was phenomenal, and his utilitarian tools he attached to his body to clean around the apartment were actually really helpful for tidying up his tiny abode.
"Cool. So are they done yet?" Genos quickly nodded in confirmation. With the speed of sound, the young cyborg prepared the table, catching even Saitama off with the unexpected increase of speed. "Wow Genos. If you used that kind of speed in battle, you'd make it to rank 5 in no time." Genos' face slightly flushed at this praise from his master. "Thank you master." Wasting no time, Saitama plopped himself dead center of his chair as he voraciously looked at his meal. "Let's dig in then!"
Eagerly complying, the two heroes feasted themselves on the delicious feast before them.
However, just as Saitama dug his fork into a heap of scrambled eggs and was about to put it in his mouth, a strange sensation shot through his brain. His bland expression turned into that of a serious tone, as his brows slightly scrunched in confusion. What was this feeling coming over him? He couldn't put his finger on it, but he swore it was as if his body was telling him something was coming. Something powerful. But as soon as it came, it left, leaving behind a dumbfounded hero.
"Master, is something wrong?" His disciple's concerned question brought him back from this sensational conundrum. "Oh, it's nothing. Just felt a chill coming up my spine that's all." He shrugged at his odd feeling, the two heroes continued to eat as if nothing had happened.
Coldness and the empty void of darkness flew by the two space pods. Inside the two pods were the Prince of Saiyans and his sole remaining general. Both of them were resting lounged in silence, attempting to get some beauty sleep before they arrived at their destination. Both of them were contemplating the news they had received from Zarbon, wondering exactly what they were dealing with.
"How pathetically weak, Nappa."
The Saiyan Elite lay face down in the training chamber; his clothes tattered beyond repair, his tail bruised and lying weakly beside Nappa. His teeth grinded in frustration at the humiliation of defeat once again by Prince Vegeta. Damn it. His combat experience far exceeded that of the Prince, and the age distance between the two was a good 30 years at least. But no matter how much he hated to admit it, Prince Vegeta's strength was absolutely astonishing.
"Prince Vegeta, can you give me a hand?" Nappa hesitantly reached his right arm for Vegeta's support. Vegeta, standing cross-armed with a scowl on his face, extended his right arm and grabbed hold of Nappa's hand. "Thank you." Nappa realized his mistake when he noticed Vegeta's scowl shift to a smirk. "Wrong choice, Nappa."
Vegeta began to spin Nappa around and around like a children's toy. Nappa's eyes widened at the feeling his limp body being swung around like a monkey's plaything. Prince Vegeta finished his courtesy call by slamming Nappa as hard as he could into the steel wall. The Saiyan General coughed up blood. The smell of his blood and the taste of defeat in his mouth only heightened his shame at losing to Vegeta once again; he knew that this was the worst beating he'd ever experienced at the Prince's hands so far. But the most gut-wrenching factor that made his face contort in disgust was that the Prince hadn't even broken a sweat.
Even at the age of 5, he surpassed the normal limitations of saiyan children, being able to effortlessly blow away 5 saibamen with a single attack. Even so, any frustration he harbored toward Prince Vegeta was simply an inept feeling of self-worthlessness on his own part. Nappa was a saiyan general, one of the pride symbols of the elite class. His power made other saiyans cower in terror at the sheer might his aura radiated to those around him. He was one of the only few remaining survivors of the Saiyan Tuffle war, the war that nearly decimated the population of the saiyan race. It was only through the power of the blutz waves emitted from the full moon that allowed them the swift victory. He, along with King Vegeta and the 4 other saiyan generals, had stood triumphantly at the castle of the Tuffle King.
He smiled at the memory of King Vegeta. Before the Saiyan Empire was annexed by Frieza, the saiyans focused on strong fraternal connections with not only their families, but their comrades as well, and there was nobody who he felt more bonded with than King Vegeta. The two of them had endured the worst of war, swimming through the oceans of blood pouring out of their enemies, and even enjoying themselves as they both got drunk on whatever alcohol remained on the invading planet. Although King Vegeta would rip his tongue out if he ever admitted this in public, the two were actually the closest friends two saiyans could be.
The king strived to maintain balance and order, but knew he had to present himself as a ruthless tyrant to keep this delicate system of government in line and to make sure every saiyan knew that he was the alpha dog. Even so, he still acted with a rather balanced sense of judgment. But on the inside, he was an extremely sensible, honorable warrior, and the few people who had the chance to see his more personal emotions would have realized he was a good man. That was until the day Frieza had taken control of the Saiyan Empire.
Nappa inwardly grimaced at the memory. The King bowing in submission, Frieza planting his foot directly on King Vegeta's head, and being forced to kneel before him and enlist themselves as members of the Frieza Force. Ever since that day, King Vegeta was never the same. His inward charisma began to wane, with the malevolent and pure evil of Frieza seeping into his heart. The smooth relationship he had with the king was like a lost memory of time, and even Nappa had changed. Frieza began to implement the four most important rules of the Frieza Force: The mission always comes first, kill anyone who gets in the way, taking executive power into your own hands will get you a fist through your chest, and most importantly, save your own hide.
Nonetheless, he took it as a great honor when he was given the privilege of training the newly acquainted Prince Vegeta. While the other generals snickered at Nappa's demotion to a babysitter, he knew that he was given a great honor with this, and knew at that moment that even after everything the King had gone through, he still viewed Nappa as somewhat of a friend. So in return, he trained Vegeta with everything he knew. He gave him sparring lessons, taught him how to use his ki, and even told Vegeta a few stories about his time with King Vegeta.
However, the prince thusly refused his companionship. His time in solitary missions and Frieza's influence on him corrupted him just like it had Nappa and the King, turning him into a more sinister, uncaring weapon of war, aimed for nothing but combat. And while Nappa proudly admitted he enjoyed the scent of blood that drenched his armor and the way his enemies screamed as he met their demise, he still had a form of respect for his fellow generals and King, and Frieza took whatever form of that was left in any saiyan and crushed it in the palm of his hand.
But the death of King Vegeta and his race had shaken the core of his brain. When he heard the news that a giant meteor destroyed Planet Vegeta, his breath was cut short and his heart had almost stopped at the realization that he, Vegeta, and Raditz were the last remnants of the proud Saiyan Empire that toppled over any planet that stood in their way. He hadn't even gotten to say farewell to the King. But weakness was what got you killed in the Frieza Force, so he put on the façade that he couldn't care less about the destruction of Planet Vegeta. Someday, he would find a way to avenge his saiyan brethren and his king.
Vegeta confidently stride to the saiyan general, crossing his arms with his signature pose of condescension. "So Nappa, did the trauma from your defeat give you brain damage, or you just that stupid?" Gradually setting his gaze to his prince, his vein throbbed in anger at the condescending look dancing in Vegeta's eyes. Refusing to let his pride be shot even further, a comeback response formed at the tip of his tongue, but shortly dissasparated at the sound of the door opening, revealing a panting Zarbon.
"Oh look what the cat dragged from the alleyway", teased Vegeta.
"Cute. But Frieza's sending you on an urgent mission." Vegeta and Nappa exchanged narrowed eyed looks at each other. Never had either of them had ever heard Frieza use the word "urgent" in one of his missions. You're going to Planet 590, one of the few planets in the Northern Quadrant of the Galaxy that's been lucky enough to avoid Frieza's attention."
"Why would Frieza send us to a random planet on such short notice," questioned Vegeta, his curiosity slightly peaked. Zarbon's lips twisted in a hint of disbelief. "Lord Boros was killed by one of the planet's inhabitants."
"WHAT!?" replyed both slack-jawed saiyans. "Lord Boros?! Leader of the Dark Matter space pirates?!"
Zarbon bitterly nodded. Neither saiyan cold believe it. Ever since his rise, Lord Boros had been one of the most powerful enemies of the Frieza Force. The bounty on his head was more than than 15 years of yearly income of regular foot soldiers. Raditz's life had been lost to his henchmen, and while any fighter would see that Raditz was a disgrace of a saiyan warrior, it was still no small task to defeat a saiyan, with apparent ease no less.
"Did the scouts pick up on who killed him?" pestered Vegeta.
"No. Your mission is simple: Find the highest power level on the planet, defeat him and prepare for Frieza's arrival. You'll be monitored throughout the entire operation, just to make sure neither of you monkey's pulls a fast one."
Both saiyan's sneered. "You're too kind."
"Your pods will be ready in 30 minutes, just so you can have some time to clean up. Nappa, you're a mess. Clean your shit up." Nappa shot Zarbon a look of hatred, but knew that he could do nothing to him in his current state, so he turned away in defiance.
"Hmmph. Arrogant apes." Those were his last words before he left, swishing his cape as he did so.
"Zarbon was right. Clean yourself up." Nappa scoffed, dragging his broken body to the saiyan's private healing chamber. Vegeta spectated the pitiful display in disgust. "What a weakling."
"How much time until our arrival, Vegeta?"
"About 10 minutes."
Nappa flexed his muscles inside the space pod, noting the increased strength he felt flowing through his entire body. "You know Prince, I actually have to thank you for that horrendous beating."
"Since you decided not to hold back, I got a HUGE big power boost from the royal beating. I think I might be almost twice as strong as I was before."
Vegeta snickered. "Well congratulations Nappa. Guess that mean's I'll have to pound your face into the ground almost twice as hard as I did before."
Both saiyans remained quiet. But after a few minutes, Nappa asked the question both of them were pondering. "Hey Vegeta, how powerful do you think this warrior is?"
Vegeta scoffed. "Even if he defeated Boros, he's still nothing compared to the Prince of all Saiyans!"
Despite Vegeta's bluff, both saiyans had thoughts racing through their minds. If there was a warrior who had he power to defeat Lord Boros, they could only imagine what he was doing right now, what kind of immensely difficult training he was doing…
"Hey Genos, which do you think will last longer, the white meat of the dark meat?"
"According to internet sources, white meat is usually said to have a longer expiration date."
"Nice." The Caped Baldy and Demon Cyborg were inspecting through the local market, drifting through their daily purchases with a tedious attitude. Thursday sales almost always had the cheapest prices, but their selection wasn't diverse,leaving Saitama with either choosing crappy meals or expensive seafood. Unable to afford the luxury of seafood, Saitama grudgingly put the light meat in his shopping bag.
"Alright, maybe we should…" Without warning, the same sensation shot through his spine, as if all his instincts were screaming at him, sending out danger signals. This didn't make any sense. He now realized that he had experienced this feeling to a smaller extent while fighting Boros.
"Genos, we need to check the news."
"What is the matter…"
Before Genos could even respond, Saitama sprinted for home, leaving nothing but a trail of smoke behind him.
The people of City C were crowding around the center of the city. All of the citizens were enjoying themselves, working as if it were a regular day; well, as regular as a city could get with all the mysterious beings. But suddenly, two flaming pod shaped ships came barreling through the stratosphere at an insurmountable speeds, and just as they were about to enter the troposphere, the ships unexpectedly lost speed. By the time they reached City C, they only created rather small holes in the ground that spanned about a few meters wide. "What's going on?"
"Do you think they're from the Hero Association?"
"Could it be one of Metal Knight's probes?" The citizens murmered their possibilities of this odd conundrum.
The pod's front's flew open, revealing two mysterious warriors with odd clothing. The larger man smelled of blood and anger, and the shorter warrior radiated a sense of power that was hard to miss.
"Nappa, what's the highest power level in this vicinity?"
Nappa clicked his scouter on, scanning the entire city. "I got 10 as the highest power level."
"Hey are you guys members of the Hero Association?"
"Sure. Nappa, you know what to do."
Nappa twisted his lips. "It's been a while since I've dusted off this move." Nappa raised his finger, and the citizens didn't even have the time to realize their lives were coming to a bitter end. In a blinding flash, the entire city was evaporated within the blink of an eye.