Adult-FanFiction.org : Gundam, Beyblade, DBZ, FMA

Reprogrammed
By : moviefan
Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female
Views: 758 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Chapter List
- 43
- 44
- 45
(A/N: Hey everyone. Hope you had a good Thanksgiving. I wrote this chapter fast. I was in a writing mood. Also, were coming to the final arc in my story, so I hope you enjoy it while it lasts.)
Talking: "..."
Thinking: '...'
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 44: The Tournament
18 had been right. The competition here was utterly pathetic. If he wanted a good fight, then he could have just stayed home and spared with 18. But the android had wanted the prize money, and insisted that he enter. Still, the tournament was basically over before it even began. Trunks had briefly wondered if Zangya might show up, but he doubted it, thinking she would probably want to lay low for a while out of fear of him.
“This really is sad.” 18 muttered. “I mean, just feel their power. These people need to learn how to really fight.”
Trunks had to agree, which made him realize another important fact. He and 18 would not be around forever. Once the two of them were gone, there wouldn’t be anyone left to defend the planet. Unless these people found out how to truly tap into their potential, they were going to be in trouble if they were ever attacked by a powerful enemy.
“Well then, maybe we should open up a school of martial arts to the public.” He suggested.
18 glanced at him curiously. “What do you mean?”
“I’m talking about training these people how to really fight. To fly, use their energy, to become thousands of times stronger than they are right now. You know, become true protectors of the planet.”
18 considered this for a moment. “I suppose. Although they do have a long way to go.”
“We all have to start somewhere.” He said with a smile. “And a martial arts school opened by the world champion will definitely get a lot of people to come for lessons.”
“I don’t know if I’d have the patience for these pathetic weaklings.”
Trunks chuckled. “Then you need some lessons in patience.”
She punched him hard in the arm. “After dealing with you, I have had more than enough lessons in patience.”
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Well, this was definitely a first. The hosts of the tournament were trying something different, and rather questionable as far as Trunks was concerned. Normally, all the contestants would face off together until a selected few began the official tournament. This time they were using some sort of punching machine that measured a person’s strength. The sixteen contestants with the highest scores would be the ones that got to participate in the tournament.
“This is really stupid.” 18 muttered. “Who’s ever heard of a punching machine? It’s just ridiculous.”
Trunks nodded in agreement. Brute strength didn’t decide who was the greatest martial artist. There were so many other things to consider, technique, speed, stamina, fighting style, ability, skill, the list went on and on.
“Yeah, whoever thought of this is really foolish.”
She shrugged. “I guess it won’t matter in the end. It’ll still be you and me in the finals. This will just save us a lot of time.”
She was right, but it was much more boring. It was just sad watching so-called fighter after so-called fighter hit that machine and think that a score over one hundred was something to be proud about.
When the time finally came for 18 to test her strength, Trunks had to remind her told hold back, less she destroy the thing with her superior strength.
“I know.” she muttered carelessly.
She approached the machine with a bored look on her face. She nonchalantly raised her hand and barely tapped it. The number 774 appeared, much to the astonishment of everyone present, aside from Trunks of course.
“That’s what you call taking it easy!” he cried.
She glared at him. “It’s not my fault these guys are weaklings.”
Thinking the machine was out of order, she was asked to try again. She rolled her eyes and hit the machine again, this time barely grazing it. The score 203 appeared. While still stunning the onlookers, it was accepted as very high, but reasonable number.
Next Trunks stepped forward to try. Try and not break the machine that is. He very lightly tapped it, earning a score of 217, once again stunning the crowd. Trying to ignore the stares he was receiving, he went to stand by 18, who was smirking at him.
“I guess it’s safe to say that we made it.” she said.
Trunks opened his mouth to reply, but instead it was his stomach that answered with a loud growl. 18 raised an eyebrow, her gaze landing on his stomach. Trunks grinned in embarrassment.
18 sighed. “You saiyans and your appetite. Come on, lets go raid the buffet.”
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Among the crowd was another contestant with a confident smirk on his face. However, this face was hidden beneath a mask made out of a simple pillow cushion, as if he had decided to hide his face as an afterthought. He had seen the scores Trunks and 18 had got, and wasn’t intimidated in the least. In fact, he knew that the two of them were holding back. He too would have to hold back. He didn’t want to give away how strong he was just yet.
When his turn came, he casually punched the machine, hardly touching it. He received a score of 671. For a third time the people were shocked, but it was quickly passed off once again as an error.
“It seems the machine is acting up again.” said one of the men in charge of the tournament. “Would you like to try again, sir? It seems the machine couldn’t get a proper reading of your punch.”
“Is that right?” the contestant remarked, speaking with a country-western accent. “Well then, lets see if this convinces ya’ll otherwise.”
With one hand, he lifted the punching machine in the air. Smirking, he balanced it on one finger and then tossed it a good fifty feet in the air before catching it again with one hand.
Amused by their stunned expressions, he set the machine on the ground. “Well, did that there convince you city folks of my strength?” He received nods in response. “Good, then I’ll see ya’ll in the ring. That is, if’en any of you are man enough ter face me.”
Laughing, he left the remaining fighters who still had the courage to participate to the punching machine.
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18’s eye twitched in irritation as she watched gulp down helping after helping. It was really sickening. And the poor waiters were busting their backs to keep up with him. The plates were piling up faster than they could be cleared out.
“I can’t believe you can eat so much.” she said irritably. “Geez, you’re gut is a bottomless pit. Are you sure you saiyans aren’t born with a black hole in your stomachs?”
He gave her a bashful grin. “Na, we just have a really high metabolism.”
“Dinosaurs have a smaller metabolism than you do! At this rate, we’ll need the prize money just to pay off the grocery bill!”
He chuckled. “Oh, come on, it’s nowhere near that bad.”
She glared at him. “I just can’t figure out where you put it all. Honestly, you eat more than your own weight in food. It’s disgusting!”
A wicked chuckle came from behind her. “Seems like you city folks be needin’ a lesson in manners. You’ve got the appetite of an old billy-goat.”
“Or a monkey.” 18 muttered, turning to the newcomer. “And who might you be?”
The masked man, who had scored 671, just chuckled. “Who me? I’m just one of the many folk that entered this here tournament.” He grinned. “I’m also one of the sixteen fellers that’s actually gonna compete.”
18 raised an eyebrow. “Really? Well then,” she took on a similar mocking accent, “I guess we’ll be seein’ ya’ll in the rang, partna’.”
“18!” Trunks scolded. “It’s not nice to make fun of the way people talk.” He looked at the redneck. “Nice to meet you. My name’s Trunks, and she’s 18.”
Smirking, the man nodded to him in greeting. “Pleasure ta meet ya, sonny. Ya’ll can call me… Jinzōningen Jū San. Or Jū San for short.”
Trunks nodded back. “Nice to meet you, Jū San. I hope we can have a good match.”
Jū San grinned. “Oh, we will, boy. You can be sure of that.”
Then he turned and walked away. 18 watched him go with a raised eyebrow. “He seemed really arrogant. Too bad he won’t be a match for either of us.”
The friendly look on Trunks’ face faded away to a more serious one. “No, there was something different about him. Whoever he was, he was suppressing his power perfectly. He didn’t want us to sense how strong he is.”
18 gave him a curious look. “So you think he’ll actually provide us a challenge?
Trunks considered the man carefully. “I don’t know. Guess there’s only one way to find out.
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The tournament announcer, who had miraculously been one of the survivors over the years, had aged over time. Yet he still enjoyed his position as the tournament announcer. It had been a long time since the last tournament, and he was happy to be back doing what he loved.
“Laaaaaadies and gentlemen, welcome to the first World Martial Arts Tournament in over twenty years! It’s been a long time since I’ve seen this stadium filled up with adoring fans, ready to watch these fantastic fighters duke it out to take the title of world champion! As the late Hercule Satan is unable to defend his title, we now have sixteen new competitors here to take the title as champion of the world! Now, lets hear it for these mighty warriors as they make they’re way into the ring!”
The sixteen competitors made their way onto the ring. The crowd cheered for them as the anticipation for a good fight excited them. Trunks studied the contestants carefully. Aside from 18 and the mysterious Jū San, these people were mere flies to be swat at.
“It looks like a good turnout this year!” the announcer cried. “And now, it’s time to find out who will be facing who. Will the contestants please line up to pick a number. First up is the mysterious masked fighter, Dr. Destruction.”
A contestant wearing a ridiculous costume stepped forward. He reached into the box and pulled out the number six. And so the process was repeated. When it was Trunks’ turn to draw, he pulled out the number five.
“And it seems our third match will feature Trunks fighting Dr. Destruction!” the announcer declared.
Trunks sweat-dropped and looked at the sorry excuse of a martial artist. The guy’s power was laughable, as was his costume. And what kind of ridiculous fighter name was Dr. Destruction? Couldn’t he have at least come up with something more creative?
When it was 18’s turn, she stepped forward to choose her number. As she was reaching in the box, the announcer gave her a curious look. “Is, uh, number 18 your real name?”
She cut her eyes at him. “My father was a pretty dull.” She looked at the number she drew and tossed it to the announcer. “Now I’m number twelve.”
And so it went on until each of the contestants paired up. Then they were allowed time to prepare themselves. Trunks and 18 didn’t need to prepare for their fights, if one could even call them that. Their opponents were more like minor distractions getting in the way of the real opponents, each other.
“Go easy on me, lover.” She whispered seductively in his ear. “No going super. That’s not fair.”
Blushing slightly, Trunks nodded. He had already decided not to transform. Even if he fought her in his normal form, the odds of him winning were still in his favor.
His gaze shifted to Jū San. He wondered what kind of power the guy was hiding. He was definitely stronger than the other contestants. He couldn’t be that strong though, or else wouldn’t he have challenged the androids, Cooler, or Baby? Then again, maybe he did and was just no match for them.
He could be from a different planet. A lot of aliens looked very much like humans, saiyans being a prime example. Either way, whether alien or human, Trunks wouldn’t be able to judge the guy’s power until he saw him fight.
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“And now for the third match of the tournament!” the announcer cried. “We have Dr. Destruction entering the ring! This mysterious fighter has chosen to hide his identity, but beneath that mask could possibly be the face of the new champion! However, first he must get past his opponent, the mighty Trunks Brief! And yes, folks, this is the very Trunks whose the son of Bulma Brief, the famous inventor and president of Capsule Corp. Does brute strength as well as brains run in this family, lets find out!”
Trunks carelessly took his position at his side of the ring. His opponent stood across from him. Having arrived late, Dr. Destruction had not seen the high score that Trunks had received on the punching machine, and was unaware of what he was getting himself into.
“I am Dr. Destruction!” he cried. “And as your doctor, I officially announce your time of death!”
Trunks sweat-dropped. ‘He can not be serious.’
The announcer threw his microphone in the air and then caught it. “Let the match… begin!”
Dr. Destruction ran at Trunks at a speed that would be considered fast to normal people, but might as well have been a snail’s pace to the saiyan. Trunks just sighed as the guy got closer, and let his power flare out. Dr. Destruction was suddenly flying through the air, slamming painfully into the wall without having even been touched.
The stadium was silent as the crowd watched, wondering what had just happened. Even the announcer was stunned silent, at a complete loss at how Dr. Destruction had been defeated without Trunks having even lifted a finger.
Snapping out of his dazed state, the announcer declared Trunks as the winner. “Dr. Destruction is out of the ring! Trunks advances to the next round!”
Feeling bored, Trunks exited the ring. From among the crowd, he heard his mother’s voice. “Wait to go, Trunks! That’s my little boy! You show them what you’ve got!”
Trunks turned red with embarrassment.

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As 18 entered the ring, she glanced at her opponent. A large muscular cat-like creature that stood thirty feet tall with two foot long claws. Apparently, this creature thought that 18’s score had been an error and was confident that he would win. 18 didn’t mind him thinking that, but if he didn’t stop taunting her, she was going to maim him for life.
“The next match is underway!” the announcer cried. “Here we have the large and mighty Yore versus the beautiful 18! Don’t be fooled by her girlishness folks, she scored a whopping 203 on the punching machine, so she’s sure to be one tough gal! But can she defeat the ferocious Yore? There’s only one way to find out, folks! Let the match begin!”
The cat creature, Yore laughed as he towered over 18. “This is ridiculous. I can’t believe I have to face a little girl. You should have stayed in the kitchen.”
18 stared at him with a bored look on her face. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Yore sneered at her. “You know, it’d be a shame to scratch up such a pretty face. So I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you a chance to surrender right now. Just give up and you can walk away unharmed.”
18 yawned. “You done yet? I don’t have all day.”
The large cat-like creature’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, so you think you’re so tough with your 203 score, do you? Well, I’m not going to let a mere fluke intimidate me. The machine just short-circuited and gave you a really high score. It did say 774 the first time you hit it. You’re second attempt was just another error.”
18 wasn’t even looking at him now. She was examining her nails, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “That’s your call. Are we going to do this, or are you just going to keep talking.”
Yore scrapped his lethal-looking claws together. “All right then, let’s do this. Yah!”
He swiped at her, but she suddenly vanished. Blinking in surprise, Yore began looking around in confusion.
“Huh? What? Where’d she go? What kind of trick was that? Where is she?”
“I’m right here, you big idiot.”
Yore turned to find 18 hovering in the air right next to his head. His eyes widened in shock upon seeing her floating in the air. She lightly backhanded him, and he went flying out of the ring, right into the startled crowd, completely knocked out.
The announcer removed his sunglasses, making sure he wasn’t seeing things. When he was convinced that what he had seen was real, he declared 18 the winner.
“Yawn.” She muttered, leaving the ring. “This is a waste of my time.”
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Neither Trunks nor 18 had bothered to watch the other matches, not really caring how things would turn out. Regardless of who won, they wouldn’t be a match for them.
However, there was one fight that they did watch. And that fight was between Jū San and his opponent. Whoever Jū San was fighting looked absolutely terrified. Jū San smirked in amusement at his opponent’s fear.
“Well, all right then. I reckon we best be gettin’ started.”
His opponent backed away fearfully. He had seen what Jū San had done with the punching machine, and knew that he was no match for the guy. He began to regret his decision of entering this tournament after seeing what his opponents were capable of.
“What’s wrong?” Jū San asked as he approached him. “Are you a yellowbelly? At least have the dignity to die with yer head held high.”
He was suddenly in front of him. His opponent cried out fearfully as Jū San’s hand shot out, wrapping around his throat. Jū San lifted him in the air and looked into his fearful eyes.
“You best be glad that I ain’t allowed ter kill ya’ll or else I’ll be disqualified.” Jū San whispered to him. “So you just sit tight and this’ll be over with real soon.”
His opponent struggled in his grip. But soon his struggles ceased and he went limp. Jū San smirked and dropped him. He fell unconscious to the floor.
The announcer stepped forward. “He’s down! I have no idea what happened, folks, but the rules say that I have to start counting. One… two…”
“You be wasting yer time.” Jū San told him. “He ain’t getting’ up for a while.”
The announcer blinked. “Uh, be that as it may, I still have to give him his ten second count. Three… four…”
But Jū San had been right. The fallen contender did not get up, and the paramedics had to carry him away. From within the stands, Trunks watched curiously. He hadn’t been able to see what Jū San was capable of this fight. Whatever technique he had used on his opponent had required no energy, and that made Trunks feel uneasy.
“So what do you think?” 18 asked.
Trunks didn’t know what to think. “Whoever he is, we should be wary of him. No matter how strong we are, if he has a special technique that doesn’t rely on strength, we have to be careful.”
“Fine.” 18 muttered, sounding bored. “So, the fighting is over for a while. What do you want to do?” Trunks’ stomach growled in response. 18’s eye twitched in irritation. “You’re kidding, right?”

(A/N: It's probably obvious who Jū San really is, but in case you don't know, I won't say anything. But for those of you who do know, there will be a twist with him that's different from the show.)
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Reprogrammed	By : moviefan Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female Views: 758 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I own nothing

Reprogrammed