An Adventure for Arduous Antiquities! [QUEST]

It wasn't often that Namorel involved himself in the day to day activities of the Earthlings, many of that little events they held seemed to be aimed at their culture specifically and often pandered to the young or simple minded sort. Most of the time, these events were to eat at the wallets of the less than frugal among the Humans as it was and... Namorel didn't really have much money of his own for that matter as it was.

However, this time things were different, the Red Ribbon Capsule Corporation were offering an... interesting contest to say the very least. They scattered a series of faux Dragon Balls around West City for those that wished to hunt for them to find. Likely banking off the old legends for those that still read the myths of the planet. As Ayumu had pointed out to the Namekian prior, knowledge on the actual existence of the balls was... minimal to say the least. The company was offering one 'wish' to whomever could find and collect all seven and return them in tow.

While many of what Namorel wanted the company likely could not deliver on... there as one device that he was well aware that they had in their arsenal that he wanted to get his hands on. His eyes set on a legitimate Dragon Radar so that he could hunt down the real Dragon Balls and get the wishes that he needed rather than simply getting some arbitrary consolation prize form scanning around for some fake balls dispersed across this metropolis.

"A trip to West City sounds lovely. I can take Nao to the park while you hunt for the balls and perhaps we can meet up with you at some point and help. I'll go get her ready!", Prisma spoke with a giddy tone, smiling happily at the Namekian. Namorel would take a moment to stretch as Prisma moved her serpentine bulk off into the other room to get the young Lamia Zoan ready for their trip to West City. It wouldn't take all that long, but as the two prepared, the Namekian took a step outside, relieved to get more room to move as his Great Namekian bulk has remained active since his last encounter with Ayumu as a means to properly train the form.

As the two Lamia emerged from the house, their bodies dragging behind them through the doorway, Namorel could catch the door as Prisma's tail cleared the threshold and lock it tight until their return later. In the months since his last outing with the two, he had taught Prisma enough about ki control so that the Zoan woman could fly with him rather than the Namekian having to carry the both of them. Lifting Nao off the ground, the young girl nuzzling in the embrace of her mother, Prisma would slowly rise from the ground and into the air, a shaky flight, but one nonetheless.

Heading west, Namorel would lead the way, having to move at a mere fraction of his typical speed to ensure the others could keep up. On the bright side, their pace was just enough to make the trip from the Bamboo Forest to West City just under two hours. The young Zoan was antsy as ever in the arms of her mother, who fought with her to stay steady as her and the Namekian slowly descended to the park below them. A series of slides and other equipment of entertainment filled the otherwise natural clearing in the sprawling city scape.

"Here should be fine! Come check in one us in two hours? Nao should easily be tuckered out by then.", Prisma turned to speak to the Namekian as she let the young Lamia Zoan down. In no time at all Nao was gone into the mass of plastic and metal that constituted the playground nearby. "Sounds good to me, I'll have my phone on me if something comes up.", Namore spoke with a soft smile as he launched himself into the air with a wave.

He would need to start hunting down the Dragon Balls in this city of all places. He had not acquired any sort of pamphlet or other guide to aid him in this treasure hunt of the sort. Sighing with well more than a modicum of frustration in his tone he would aim himself at the far north western portion of West City to start his hunt for the faux dragon balls.

The Namekian would land at a nearby bank, dropping to the ground near an alley way that separated the building from the adjacent deli. There was little here of consequence, but it seemed like as good a place as any to set oneself up for quite the adventure. His thoughts were locked on where the Dragon Balls could be... knowing the corporation they would likely hide some in places that would convince the ones searching to buy their products, but at the same time that was almost too obvious.

As Namorel thought this through he heard a quiet, muffled scream come from deeper in the alley way. Wasting no time to get into action, Namorel would adjust his weights and dart into the shadowy corridor. His eyes would take a moment or two to adjust to the surroundings. The lack of light complicating things as he would have to resort to his ki sensing to try and find where the sound had come from.

One... two... no five people seemed to be crowded together nearby, all of their powers almost insignificant were it not for the fact they capped the minimum threshold Namorel had noticed as the bottom of the barrel level for most mortals who didn't train themselves such as himself or Ayumu. Taking careful strides to the location, Namorel would feel out a box, like a shipping container. With one solid hit, he would rip the metal away and wince as light spilled into the alleyway, what Namorel found inside appalled him.

Five women cowered in the corner of the container, clothing and other materials strew thoughtlessly across the floor of the container. A single light hung carelessly from the top, swinging from the damage Namorel put into his strike as he ripped part of the side off of it. "What's going on here?", the Namekian would ask as calmly as possible. his eyes on the females huddled into the corner.

"Th-They keep us here, I don't want to remind myself of what they do to us... with us.", one of the women spoke up. Her voice was soft, but shaken and carried a tone of fear and disdain to it. It struck Namorel as queer they way she worded that... likely as the Namekian has never really come to understand exactly what she was alluding to. However now was not the time to ponder over these things as there were footsteps slowly making their way towards the location of the Namekian and the women.

Stepping from the container, Namorel would see three large men make their exit from a nearby building. Between the three of them, their powers were ever so insignificant to that of the Namekian's should they cause any trouble, yet he didn't want to take any risks, choosing rather to slink into the darkness of the adjacent alleyway. "Who the hell did this?! This thing is made from galvanized steel...", one of the men spoke in shock as he looked over the easily folded metal of the container, eyes boggling at the fact almost yelling as he said so.

A scowl crossed his lips though as he turned to the interior, angry eyes shooting over to the women within as he spoke, "Did one of you call for help? You know what happens to those of you who don't obey..." His voice began to rise in volume with each moment, taking steps closer to the women as he did so.

Not wasting a moment to react, Namorel would extend his arm outwards and pick off each of the two other men on the outside of the container, pulling them to him with his hands over their mouths. It would only take one precise strike for the Namekian to knock them out... he had to be careful no to accidentally kill them however due to the margin of power between himself and them.

Once they were dealt with the Namekian rook slow, careful strides over to the container. With a glance inside he saw the third man looming over the women, come sort of instrument in his hands. "Hey bud, I think your business is with me, last I checked none of these girls are nearly strong enough to do what I did to the container here.", the Namekian's voice echoed through the large metal container as he spoke, hoping to scare the man off before he could cause any severe harm.

Without a word, the man would launch himself at Namorel, the instrument in his hands turned out to be a bladed whip of some sort, of which he would lash at the Namekian multiple times until Namorel caught it between two of his fingers and pulled it free of the man's hands.

Wrapping his arms around the man and squeezing until he couldn't breath, Namorel would drop the man as he passed out. "You lot get out of here and call the cops to pick these three up.", Namorel's attention turned back to the women, who all nodded and ran back into the alley to escape their confinement, as Namorel was making his way back to the street he would spot a small orange ball in free hand of one of the men... it was the three star faux Dragon Ball. With ball in tow he was off once more.

Namorel would slowly make his way down the street, stretching lightly after the encounter in the alleyway. The business with those women was a disgusting thought to the Namekian, that the Earthlings would go out of their way to trap those of the opposite sex away for their own amusement. His mind was all over the place as he adjusted the bag he had brought with him in order to gather the faux Dragon Balls in.

"Hey bub, wanna help an old dude out?", a bedraggled voice faltered from a nearby doorway, aimed at the Namekian. It would take Namorel a moment to realize that he was the target of the old man's comments, but as he did the green man's head would turn to see an elderly Human resting on his porch, a cane in his hand and a beard flowing ever so lusciously to the ground beneath his feet.

As soon as the old man noticed the Namekian's attention had been drawn, he would grin and speak once more, "Take this bill for me over to the vending machine in that alleyway and buy me item number six?"

Namorel would shrug and nod at the old man, reaching out to grasp the flexible and lazy bill of currency that he had pulled from his faded pocket. Without really questioning the value of the currency, Namorel would turn to face the street, glancing over at the alleyway he had been directed to. Crossing the street itself on this side of town was the easy part as there was almost no traffic to speak of, all of the cars tended to clog the more central parts of the city after all.

Unlike the prior alleyway Namorel had been to, this one was lined with lights and signs, some which the Namekian could not amke out and others which were simply pictures, outlines of what seemed to be humanoids. The neon lights surprisingly didn't reach the end of the alley, hiding the secluded businesses from those on the outside who may not find their practices as 'savory'.

Namorel's eyes scanned his surroundings time and again for the vending machine he had been guided to by the older man across the street. He would finally spot it in the corner, being avoided by those few that walked through the narrow crevice bordered by buildings as if it were some sort of plague ridden beast. Curiosity was roaming in the Namekian's mind as to why exactly he had agreed to do this, but dismissing any degree of personal concern, the Namekian would step closer to it, once he had entered its immediate vicinity, those around would start looking at him, stopping in the alley and scowling at him almost in disgust.

Putting the bill into the machine, and slowly pressing the six button in, Namorel would watch as a covered paperback book of some sort fell lazily into the bin below it. The Namekian would claim these nad launch himself into the sky to not have to deal with the onlookers of before. The flight would take far less time than the walk had for clear reasons. Dropping in front of the old man's house, Namorel would step up and hand the paper back too him.

"I hope this was worth it dude... I got some weird looks in there.", Namorel spoke with a frown across his lips and pointing back to the alleyway prior. The old man would laugh some before he spoke, "Like you have no idea kid, I needed this month's copy of 'Ginger Town Gingers'." After he spoke, the old man would rummage through a nearby bag, pulling out a small cloth covered ball and tossing it to the Namekian with a shrug. "Here, take this for yer troubles. I've no use for it since I'm not in the race as it is.", he spoke once more before waving his hand dismissively at the Namekian, so that he could get some alone time with his new magazine.

Namorel would waste no time to escape the gaze of the pervy old man... and he thought Ayumu was bad. Unwrapping the cloth covered ball in his hands, it would fairly quickly be revealed to the Namekian that the item he had been given was the fake one star Dragon Ball, bringing his collection of these balls ever closer to the total seven that he would need, one fake glass ball at a time. However if he would have to keep up these seedy activities to acquire them, would it really be worth all of this effort to get one simple 'with' from the Red Ribbon Capsule Corporation? This was the real question that swam through Namorel's mind as he tucked the ball into his bag, listening to it clack softly against the ball that already sat in there as he made his way further and further down the street.

The day so far has been... well an ordeal. More so than Namorel had expected from a simple little event held by the largest business on the planet. He had anticipated crowds and perhaps some fighting, but women trapped in a box and buying lewd materials for an old man... those weren't quite on his list of things to expect from hunting down the faux Dragon Balls in a short, single day.

With this in mind... a thought crossed the Namekian's mind, why bother? Clearly those involved or who had collected any matter of balls were not actively collecting the others. With this in mind, the Namekian readied himself and launched himself into the air, his target the main Headquarters of the company. He would enter the threshold of the building and throw the bag at the receptionist. "There I gathered two of them, this whole event is asinine.", he would sputter in rage. However as he started to leave the building he would hear the woman speak up, "Sir, these balls are from last year's event. Even if you collected all seven you wouldn't win anything." All the more enraged, Namorel would fly off to gather Prisma and Nao and head home.

Namorel
Namekian
PL: 30,909
Trans:
Great Namekian [x8]
PL: 61,816
WC: 2,655
WC: 2,655
TWC: 2,655
Active:
Heavy Weights [75%] PL: 7,727
+25% PL Gains
+25% Zeni Gains