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Post by Bass on Nov 19, 2020 19:23:59 GMT -8
Three in the morning.
The dim streetlights vaguely illuminated various urbanized dome-like capsule structures lining the streets. The building Bass lived in wasn't much different. A winding and twisting serpentine highway scaled up and around until it was level with a raised capsule structure with various compartments. Bass's apartment specifically was part of the top-right half, a slice- an eighth of the building that he shared with his old and long time Human friend Icey.
This particular night was similar, but a little different than all the rest. Normally the large Namekian was long asleep by this point, lost in the wandering mind of a worked salaryman. Yet this night had him laying sideways on his couch, flicking a small capsule with his thumb into the air and catching it over and over as the blue light from the TV shed some faint colored hues onto his form in the otherwise dark room. From that spot he could see outside the window into a world of stars, glittering evidence of further horizons.
On the television was a late night rerun of the shark attack. It'd been a long time since the disaster, and it'd found its way into media naturally. Some cartoon had picked up the thing, blowing the fight out of proportion. He'd recalled at some point being emailed about a request to use his actual name for the production considering the fame he'd garnered from the encounter, he didn't see a problem with it now. However the attention it inevitably brought as every third person seemed to recognize him was both a curse and a blessing he supposed.
Watching the cartoon reenactment of the fighters beating the landshark midair, on one hand the blessing was that people didn't freak out at him looking like a Demon. On the inverse, the paparazzi and fans were difficult to shake off without being outright rude. Having lived among Humans so long, he couldn't help but admit their morality and feelings had rubbed off on him- he just couldn't without a guilty conscience tell people off like that. Wasn't right to him anymore, and truthfully it never had been. Something about his reform after being taken down in his early days working for King Piccolo set him down on a new track. Now when the Namekian thought back to the days of raiding villages in the North and causing havoc, it felt half like a dream and half like a weight- a blot in his past of atrocities he'd committed that he couldn't take back.
Which he could live with, because he owned his mistakes. He didn't just 'move on' however, instead Bass decided to bury his past not by forgetting, but quite literally putting it in the grave. That act- defeating (not necessarily killing) King Piccolo could make the world a better place and make him truly feel like he could have the forgiveness of others without feeling cheap about it. Though those had been facts he's been living with for years now. The truth of why he was up this late unable to rest was both more simple and infinitely more complex at the same time.
It was a fire, a fire deep within. The ignition had been started with the presence of fighters that nearly rivalled his own power. Had he really let himself slide that much to almost have martial peers? His brows scrunched as the thought crossed his mind, getting up and moving towards the television to twist a knob. The channel switched towards a news network reporting on the events of South City that day. Aside from the regular stock updates quantifying the constant battle between competitive businesses like Momentum Financial and Velocity there wasn't too much of significance. That was another thing, the urge to fight was just a baser impulse of any martial artists, and it was peaceful. He didn't want people to be in jeopardy, but he wanted to put his skills to the test.
Yet even that was but a contributing reason for this fire inside. Moving back to the couch and flopping down with a crash, Bass tossed the capsule after pressing the button and with a poof of smoke a popped bag of popcorn rested in his hands. Tugging open the top, he'd start to munch away while watching TV. He had recently been on something of a gambling spree, and through sheer coincidence stumbled upon a correlation that made for such an absurd matter of chance. A signed copy of the Kakarot manga written by a mister V. That alone wouldn't have been enough to particularly tip anyone off- after all not many (if any at all) had really come to recognize what it meant. Raising the manga, Bass looked at the signature once more.
Then he released the book, setting it down on the armrest just in front of his elbow from his sideways lying position. In front of him was battle armor of old. He'd always had respect for the warrior that used it before him, supposedly a Saiyan by the name of Vegeta. The artifact had looked dated, decades if not centuries old. Yet inside that very same item appeared that very same signature.
Mr. V.
There was... Something different about actually knowing a legendary warrior could be on this very Earth at this moment. Likely gone to the fringes of the planet living a peaceful and mundane life after performing great feats during their time. Actions that Bass couldn't fathom. The armor became more than a tool at that moment, it became a story and it became proof that he could keep going. That trying to become stronger wasn't selfish- and even if it was it was a journey of fulfillment and one that could come full circle. It wasn't self-destructive, egotistical, or particularly harmful if done responsibly. The Namekian felt a feeling of nobility after that from the armor, and its place in the case at his office from that point had become less about vanity and more about it being something Bass was proud to put up on display.
He wanted to know more about a warrior so far from the past. Stories that time had twisted, events that the current generations warriors couldn't fathom. People that may have met their ends that were peers of this man. The one Bass just found a link to happened to be a so called Vegeta, but the name held no face, instead sheer meaning and purpose. He wanted to be someone that could while not necessarily gain the respect of an ancient warrior like this, at least reasonably qualify with the ambition and fight he had within him. If he had to pick an occasion to rise to, it'd have to just be Piccolo Daimao and whatever other threats would impose themselves on the Earth before or after that climactic encounter.
Changing the channel again as he took a handful of popcorn and crunched down on it, a voice called out from a nearby hallway.
"Late night, huh?" Called out the voice. It was quiet, a late night kind of voice that took caution to not even wake the most light of sleepers. The voice belonged to Icey, and as he heard her he glanced over for a moment before turning his head back towards the television.
"Yeah. You just wake up?" Replied Bass, taking another few bits of popcorn and flicking the channel again from some random low budget horror film rerun. The channel that came up looked like it was some kind of blockbuster movie. He recognized it actually as one of the movies released the year he came to South City 'S4' or the longer name South City's Saiyan Superhero. Was something about a Saiyan that took on the mantle of a Hero, but if the story had even a semblance of truth or not was a question that likely could only be considered with severe skepticism being based on a story from generations and generations in the past.
"Mhm, was just going to the washroom and then I'm headed back to bed. I have another early day tomorrow, we got a premium ingredient and we're trying out a new product. You should come by during lunch, and when you do order the... Ah, I forget the name. It'll be on the menu tomorrow, it's like sharkmeat or something." She said a bit nervously, glancing to the side with a finger brushing her cheek. Bass seemed to just dismissively wave a hand.
"Yeah, sure. Y'know, I was actually going to start setting up other businesses in other places. Oolong City, West City, Central City, North... Is there a North City? What's in the East? Needless to say I'm going to be going window shopping and permit mopping over the coming weeks to expand the business a bit. Restaurants, toy stores, maybe a gym or two. Just stuff to diversify the company now that corporate is crumbling. Surprised it took this long after the battle with Velocity and the other branches lacking returns." He didn't hear a response after rambling, and she he turned towards where Icey'd been standing, only to not see her but instead just hear a few footsteps pacing back into her room.
"Sorry! You know how I rant about the company, it's just what I do and who I am." He called after her, getting a much quieter but audible response in return.
"Ssssh! It's nearly four in the morning moron. Good luck Bass, I'm too tired for all the technical stuff right now... Get some sleep, sounds like you have a big day tomorrow too..." She replied, before the poof of a body hitting a bed was heard just after a door closed further in the apartment.
Looking back to the television, the movie seemed to pull the Namekian back to that time. Just coming into South City a reformed but still completely lost Demon Clan Namekian anxious about finding his way in hostile territory. He used to not even be able to fly around in the city back then considering it'd expose him too much- though the fame made that doable.
Though Icey was right. Setting the remains of the bag of popcorn to the side Bass got up and slid down the televisions antennas and switched it off. As the light faded out and the room turned to black, the stars visible from the side out of that window seemed to glow even brighter than they ever had that night. Sliding the slanted glass doorway and ducking his head while passing through, his hands rested on the rounded edge of the deck railing as the night breeze hit him. It was peaceful, and he felt like in another life he could just be a completely normal person without the want to become strong to fight and find a sort of fulfillment that he just couldn't understand. A normal everyday person with nothing innately amazing about them save for the fact that a normal life can be humble and rewarding. He envied normal people in a light way- nothing serious. Their ability to look the other way, smile, make friends, relax at restaurants and go to the movies week after week was such an... Experience that he couldn't grasp. Even if he did those things it was never the same, because the scope of his world going to different continents and cities all of the time made such things feel small even if he consciously understood their value.
Ah well, taking a moment to say goodbye to the moon that slowly lowered towards the horizon for the coming morning Bass backed up into the apartment and shut the door once again. Carefully pulling the latch and locking it he'd meander towards his room after tossing out the remains of the popcorn bag. Dropping on the bed, it was lucky that he'd really locked eyes on the right thing that night. Since when he hit the bed he fell asleep like a light switching off, and it'd be a peaceful rest until the alarm of the next morning.
RUNNING TOTAL: 2020 words.
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Post by Bass on Nov 20, 2020 17:35:48 GMT -8
Waking up to the sight of sun rays streaming through the gaps in his blinds, Bass's eyes slowly fluttered open. With his wrist resting against his forehead, the Namekian shrugged off the late night that'd just passed and welcomed the new morning. Sitting up and throwing the light sheets off, Bass checked the alarm clock sitting just a couple feet to the side on his nightstand. When the time read ten in the morning, he just rolled his eyes and let out a groan.
It looked as if he was going to be late. Thankfully with how he ran things the place could be pretty self sufficient so long as nothing extreme happened. So instead of sprinting around the house he just decided to take his time. Naturally, hygiene came first. He assumed Icey was already out of the house at her restaurant serving up that new Burrito she was talking about last night, but trying it would need to wait until lunch at this rate.
Being a part of Earth's society rather than an outcast certainly came with its own set of unique benefits. He'd garnered a profound appreciation for the arts, more specifically music of the relaxing and reflective variety. It was sometimes the things that went without saying that had the largest effect on a person, it wouldn't be genuine if he told someone he hadn't seen wisdom or learned lessons from the artists he listened too. Yet it all happened in a days work, and as much as he jokingly fantasized about having the day off and just relaxing with music the reality was he simply didn't have such an option at his disposal.
Instead, he paid a quick visit to his closet to pull out another pair of dress pants along with a clean white shirt. With the clothes having a nice snug fit, he popped on the tie in a jiffy afterwards and moved into the greater area of the apartment. This apartment in particular was pretty spacious, the result of a few upgrades he'd been able to afford through incremental salary increases until various changes in his life blew the lid on how much zeni he could make. The key culprit being able to teleport anywhere anytime to make the most of limited time opportunities in any area of the world. Of course that wasn't particularly sustainable- hence keeping and building upon the dayjob into something much greater.
Today's task had actually involved that. Checking the fridge for any food he felt like eating and instead just opting for raisin water (rays and water) he'd step outside of the apartment after taking the stairs with his suitcase in hand. The task he'd assigned himself was planning a trajectory for a company running on autopilot for a limited time after the fat budget of corporate dissolved into various corporate members and debt defaults. He was honestly lucky that his own branch wasn't scrapped to scrounge up the zeni for some of the dramatic things upper management needed to pay off. Largely personal debts from rich people doing rich things, even being fairly well-lined financially himself, Bass didn't really get it and never really would with how little his own strength relied on being well off.
Deciding the take the scenic route to burn more time leading towards lunch, the Namekian raised his watch. It'd appeared to be half passed ten, leaving him if he took this route and didn't rush about an hour and fifteen minutes after arriving until he'd get his break. He made sure that he'd spare the time to go see Icey and grab one of those burritos, it'd be rude not to, right? Besides, she was the only other person he knew that worked as hard as he did at his job. Sure she didn't really have the martial prowess he did, but there was no denying that some people simply didn't have the born talent or will to go that route in life. It was alright to just want to be normal- great, even, instead of obsessing over grand goals and greater plots involving the very security of the planet.
By and large there were a handful of topics that the Namekian made a note to address in the coming day. Distractions aside, two projects he could immediately think of was a restaurant chain he wanted to make in the Western Lands and a Security Force he wanted to embed into Momentum Financial itself- which speaking of that, he wanted to rebrand to the Momentum Corporation. The new name would allow for all the former additions to feel natural as opposed to it having a coppery and slick legal feeling to it. In the end, the worst part about the job he worked at was the marketing and business strategies.
The Namekian had been to way too many corporate meetings to be naive to the way things worked in the eyes of most people. Far too many seemed perfectly okay to add scam, rip off, and other scummy diction to their vocabulary when talking about good and faithful customers. There was one particular meeting he remembered at the corporate office when he first got the position talking about 'whales'. At first Bass thought they were referencing the animal, before quickly he realized they were just talking about exploiting the rich. Though on the other hand, if he had to choose he'd exploit a rich person over a poor one anyday. It was part of the rebranding to do off with the scummy tactics regardless, relying more on proper business models that didn't mask themselves in legal jargon and numbers to sound sophisticated.
Today was actually day one of deploying that, it was at another peak of the competition between Velocity and Momentum. People always joke about knock-offs, but Bass hated to admit that his competitor was genuine competition, and whoever lost would be deemed the knock-off of the other. Though those were simply semantics, and before he'd finalized all of his thoughts the Namekian rounded the final block to capture the office in his sights. Just like his apartment building, the office was a capsule dome. The company must've made billions with their tech used across the world rural and urban, Bass for one couldn't imagine a world where he didn't have the option to just carry a wardrobes worth of accessories in an easy to carry pocket case.
The difference between his apartment building and the office building however was left to simple scale. The dome in front of him towered high up, taking up almost the entire plot that it sat on, street to street. On both ends was a large and inviting door as well as nice marketing slogans and headlines to attract potential clients. Next to it but much smaller was the training dome Bass used, previously disguised as a utility and break building until corporate dissolved and Bass shrugged off the whole charade seeing as nobody could really dispute it anymore. He figured the place needed an upgrade- or perhaps more fitting side grade to make it sustainable for his morning exercises going forward. The 'Coach' artificial intelligence or whatnot he'd used before had started to go faulty over the passed two months. The system was just too complex for too little of a benefit, it was training in itself to learn how to train a body in such peak shape. To what lengths would he have to go to optimize his time efficiency. Nine to five left very little in between, he could train during his breaks, before and after assuming he had no life outside of work.
Stepping into the office, Bass lightly raised a hand to wave to the secretary before signing in. More specifically, Bass wrote his name above all the rest where there wasn't even a box to fill in, writing that he'd arrived at 9am as per his working hours. The secretary didn't seem to mention it, as she hadn't the previous thirty six or so times he'd been late in the passed two years. Those lateness accounts were more frequent recently however, due to the increasing pressure of various external stimuli putting Bass's brain on overdrive to figure out how to breach his limits and extend the gifts he had to the next level.
Walking through the office he waved towards the usual suspects and quickly passed by towards his office. He needed his desk and an hour to plan out some meticulous specifics for his various projects. Getting up towards the mahogany doors he'd push them open to unveil the classic sort of rustic scent the room carried. The design was a lot more old fashioned and rigid. There was wood, display cases, gold gilding and thick velvet curtains that had to be carefully installed to function on an office that had a curved window being part of a dome and all. Walking about the various cases and opening up his pocket case, he took out a pill and tossed it next to one. With a poof of smoke it formed into a box, and as the Namekian opened that box it revealed the Armor of Vegeta he'd brought home with him the previous night. Setting it back in the stand he'd press a button on the box to turn it back into a convenient little pill to slide back into his pocket case. Stuffing that in his pants he made his way to take a seat and set a much more hefty briefcase upon his desk.
From within the suitcase he withdrew paper, flattening it out over his desk with his wrist. Reaching over to the side as he pulled the suitcase to rest it next to his feet he'd grab up a pencil and hover it over the page. This was the integral thinking part, he'd need to brainstorm the various projects he wanted to add around the world. Though in order to do that, first he needed to figure out an overview. Careful planning allowed for efficient execution, having a tally of every step of the way.
The list started to form, a region or country and an associated business venture. Unlike expectations, oftentimes these additions were not at all just additional branches but rather unique and separate functioning arms of the larger corporation he was working to restructure on the legal end of things. The list was as follows;
'The Momentum Corporation Western Lands: The Bassic Security Bureau, a security agency specifically worth installing due to the high crime rates and ample amount of financial opportunities. Functions somewhat like a privatized police force, with BSB agents undertaking various investigations and criminal hunts.
Central Lands: The Burrito Bass, a burrito restaurant that utilizes monstrous and jurassic ingredients while catering to martial artists with massive appetites. Chosen to be the center of the world to ideally become a landmark of peak cuisine.
Northern Lands: Mighty Momentum Military, a privatized army much alike the RRA installed in the Northern Lands to proactively network martial artists with World Government, RRR and local police efforts to assist in handling the strain of King Piccolo's forces and beyond that other world threats.
South Lands: The Goods Bassin, a supermarket that proactively works with and supports local businesses by providing alternative products not typically sold in the area. These largely include exotic meats too dangerous for normal folk to handle, including dinosaurs and feral monsters.
Pilaf Land: The Jump Bass, a large ride/section of Pilaf land that specifically caters to providing normal people with a sense of martial arts. Allowing for bouncy castles that let people jump dozens of meters into the air, do flips, tricks, and seemingly fly around through the assistance of technology all with absolute safety. - NOTE: Consult Pilaf Legal for permission, upfront offer a 50% profit share.
Eastern Lands: Momentum Media, a broadcasting service and eventual media giant with its own unique streaming service that it develops and organizes content for; movies, tv shows, by and large taking existing manga or stories and bringing them to the big screen.
Southern Islands: Momentum Corporation Headquarters, the place where the networking happens between various Momentum companies. It allows for simple hub communication and in addition acts as a place to further proactively develop innovative concepts.
Other: Global Security Force (name still being decided).'
Running total: 4,077
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Post by Bass on Jun 27, 2021 17:40:21 GMT -8
[Starting Green Lands time-skip harvest between March and July. Greenlands x6, 12 foodstuffs per week, 48 foodstuffs per month, 192 foodstuffs over 4 months. 28800 words to harvest. Once harvested; 115200 EP, 24000 PL (then subject to thread reward boosts)]
Establishing the skeleton of his global business plans was only the first step. In a series of long meetings taking place over days and some even weeks, the hard working salaryman fought valiantly in front of whiteboards and projectors. He pitched multiple businesses to interested parties outside of himself, making connections in the areas they would eventually be established. There were thousands of logistical details that a corporation needed to deal with, and the ambition of turning a financing company into a fully fledged multi-function corporation meant a restructuring and development objective that was unparalleled in scale. He'd made connections with a lot of people and organizations since he'd started off, his contacts in Pilaf Land would be essential to allowing his own corporation to make a stake and contribute some rides to the place (not without an excessive profit cut however).
It was where arguably Bass shined the best. He could fight, toss around bad guys or good guys, and he could do all of that with a flash; but nothing displayed quite the same commitment, passion and effort as the real world of Earthlings. As a Martial Artist, he was among a group of people that were the top one percent of the top one percent; more powerful than most beings on Earth can even comprehend. Yet as a businessman, an entrepreneur, he was one among hundreds of millions of other souls. He didn't necessary have too much of an advantage because of his strength, because where it counted he intentionally chose not to strong-arm or otherwise use cheap tactics to get his way. He'd at first been introduced to the Earthling way of life when he'd been defeated in battle in the Northern Lands, and it took him years to eventually adapt to the point where he could function in normal society, but now it had become a part of him.
Yet it wouldn't be business without problems. Just as the world is at risk of being in peril at the snap of someone unknown's fingers, the world of business can collapse if just the right wrong thing happens. When those came up, an entrepreneur had two choices. The ones that do it only for the money might pull out of the project and scrap it into another, but the passionate are forced to find a workaround. Such would be the case when in his office sat behind his chair, feet on the table scribbling away at some documents held in his left hand, his phone would begin to shake as it rang.
Tossing the clipboard onto the desk, Bass swiveled in the office chair and picked up the device. Bringing it up to his ear he'd let out a yawn, followed by a simple an entirely unprofessional "Hey? Who's calling?". The room would then fall in silence but for the garble of the phones speaker bleeding into the open space, Bass nodding several times despite no one being able to see his non-verbal form of acknowledgement. Yet as the news went further and further, the Namekian would pull his legs off of the desk and scoot up towards his desk properly. Letting out a sigh, a hand slapped against his face and dragged down. He'd speak. "Who screwed up?"
Listening for a few more moments, he'd push the chair back and get up to move to the window behind him. Considering the cord couldn't reach entirely on its own, he'd grab the receiver and hold it in his other hand whilst looking out towards South City. "Seriously? I thought we were having R-and-D cook something up that'd be able to ship a haul that big? Wait- oh..." He let out another sigh, eyes narrowing. In part the situation was his own fault. The messenger at the other end of the line didn't dare accuse him, but the little research and development department downstairs was very much overwhelmed with the amount of things assigned to them.
Particularly, one project that Bass nagged them about and thereby unintentionally had them prioritize was a particular piece of training equipment. Using known data from Capsule Corp's gravity chambers- at least as much as is publicly known, and sewing in a little bit of the genius employed to make his mech suit (which was entirely done for his own amusement), they sought to create a state of the art tool for martial artists to improve themselves even further beyond. The problem was, they'd put too much effort into that, and not enough into the oversized tank-tread trucks intended to haul hundreds of thousands of pounds of jumbo produce. They also didn't have enough time to on the side create the machines designed to remove the jumbo produce. Each one weighed thousands of pounds, each being the peak of their food types in terms of nutritional value and well, financial value. The issue was investing into it, which had a lot of upfront costs Bass needed to cover through his clever exploitation of Pilaf Land's own policies.
Deciding it was best to retain his dignity and not outright claim responsibility, he'd instead owe up to it in a very literal way. "Well. Regardless of why, we have a problem now. Before I go on, there's no other solutions anyone has thought of?" Waiting to hear there answer, he would nod to himself; there would not be a phone call in the first place if the problem had already been solved. He would've learned about it in a board meeting or something. Instead he was talking to maybe a new hire or an intern that the more experienced workers had put up to the chopping block to deliver their message.
"Here. I'll handle it myself. Could you give me the location of the farm? I know it's near West City, but a little more precision will let me get there faster." There was complete silence on both ends as Bass expected a response, he presumed it might've been the person on the other end in shock, yet there was no certainty. After several more seconds, there was a stammered response after which Bass said a simple farewell and set down the phone.
With that out of the way, the Demon Clan Namekian sighed as he looked down towards the mahogany surface of his desk. Idly tracing the grain, he considered the days ahead. Jumbo produce was no joke, only the most sophisticated equipment and the strongest workers could handle it. Ultimately, it would even be challenging for Bass. It wasn't necessarily one of them that was difficult to harvest, rather the endless hours of repeatedly lifting them was going to be agony under the beating sun. However, it was both an opportunity and a small price to pay. He was looking to train, he was also looking to expand The Momentum Corporation, so true to its' name he needed to keep up the momentum.
Rolling up his sleeves and adjusting his tie, he'd slide some documents into a suitcase and then close it up to carry by his side. With no further thought, he'd leave the office, switch out the lights and slide a swatch at the outer side to indicate that he was out of the office. He had gotten awfully comfortable in that room, it was probably for the best that he'd had his hand forced into taking an extended leave to handle some external problems. As he walked downstairs he'd stop amidst multiple cubicles located in the building. A couple folks had their heads barely poking around corners to keep an eye on the Namekian, but most were used to him.
"Hey, I got things to take care of. I trust you'll all come in on time, work your hours, and refer to the secretary for all issues that you'd come to me for. I'm going to Central to fix a bit of a mess." His announcement was met with a moment of silence, before a Human stood up with his head popping over a cubicle.
"You're ditching us?" His question had seemed to stir up more claims.
"Admit it, you just want Burritos!" , "We know you like the grilled dino burrito a couple blocks down, but this? Sure you don't need therapy?" Bass's brow twitched.
One of the more experienced workers simply called out from within one of the cubicles. "We'll be here when you get back."
That final comment brought a small smirk to the Namekians face, he'd been with some of these guys since he started at Momentum Financial. Seeing how they'd come to trust each other was part of what made the job special. Still, he needed to address the complaints. Raising a hand, he'd visually make a dismissive gesture.
"I hate how indirectly right you are. I'm opening up a food joint in West City specializing in Burritos. So, in a way, by having to go manually harvest the produce I am in fact leaving for the purpose of Burritos." There was a pause before some of the workers began to laugh. Letting out a disgruntled sigh whilst rubbing the back of his neck, Bass chimed in.
"Yeah, yeah. Get it out of your system, you're going to need to work extra hard for a few weeks while I'm gone. I trust every single person here is capable of that- and, as per our rebranding as The Momentum Corporation, we wouldn't be better if I didn't offer compensation for your hard work. When The Burrito Bass opens you'll be the first ones there, I'd start thinking about a vacation to West City."
Suddenly the room lit up in a cheer, it was only natural that kind of compensation would merit one- being given an all expenses paid vacation nearly across the world was an opportunity most workers didn't get. Amidst the uproar Bass called out. "Alright, alright! I'm heading out, good luck ladies and gentlemen! If the Secretary starts to break down lay off for a bit, I'm always looking for good candidates for management."
With that he'd step out of the room, heading down a couple of floors before passing by the secretary. She had absolutely no clue the sudden burden they'd be subject to, but without any context Bass would give them a hint. "You'll be getting a raise doubling your income, see ya!" He shouted as he walked out of the automatic sliding doors at the front of Momentum HQ. He swore he heard a 'Hey, wait!' but if he stopped he'd give away too much. This was their trial, if they made it to the other end he'd consider them for a higher position.
Trial by fire.
Checking the time as he raised his watch, Bass figured now was a good a time as ever to take a new invention ready to be deployed out for a trip. Earlier on he'd made a request, one that normally would be impossible. However using the power that already exists from his ki output, a specially tailored suit was able to be designed. Up until this point it'd been collecting dust in the hangar around back, so the Namekian decided to rectify that. Going around the lot to where a downwards ramp went below ground level into a garage, Bass would flash his identification in front of a scanner. As a green light lit up he walked inside to be greeted with well, nothing extraordinary. The dim glow of an underground lot filled with vehicles the employees brought to work. What he was more interested in was an access within the lot. Moving to the right side of it, he'd lift up a vehicle to pin it against the wall. With it held up with one hand, he'd duck down to grab a false sheet of concrete that he'd toss aside. Carefully replacing the set-up as he went down, he made a note that perhaps they could use a more high tech solution instead of that. Yet he didn't deny it made it difficult for people to physically get in.
Moving down the tunnel, he'd come across another scanner, this one only accepting prints. Pressing his hand against an illuminated surface, an outline of his handprint would develop before a green light appeared as a second set of doors hissed open, heavy duty bolts unlocking to allow him entrance. Before him lay project Nameklann. A massive, dust covered mech eerily enshrouded in darkness until the Namekian turned on the hangar lights. He admitted, that even if this wasn't the first time seeing it, it was worth the investment. Arguably, it was one of the few splurges he'd made only for himself. Flying towards the cockpit, he'd seat himself and strap in. Grabbing a small remote left there, he'd press it to allow the hangar shutters to begin opening with a loud clang. Dust fell down, further covering the machine before Bass powered it on. Excessive testing had swatted away any hazards to himself, and with the core connected to him for the purpose of power, he'd kick it into gear. The sheer power alone caused the dust to raise off of the machine and fall to the side, and in a moments notice the entire thing would shift into an almost mechanical cloud, shooting up out of the hangar with a singular powerful thruster into the skies above.
As the machine stabilized itself in the air, Bass would move out of the cockpit and onto the mecha cloud itself. Breaking through the very real clouds, he'd begin his journey overseas. He had a lot of work set out before him.
[2307 words. 26493 Farming Words req'd.] [6384 running total]
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Post by Bass on Jun 28, 2021 12:56:51 GMT -8
[This will be doubling as travel, Southern Islands -> Central Lands: 1000 words / 2 (50% off time/ep/words from vehicle) + 500 words for Camping Equipment.]
Truth be told, flying around on the Mecha Nimbus like he was wasn't all that different from just flying with ki. After all, Bass had to continuously input his ki into the machine for it to continue to fly, so it worked most of the same muscles flying would. Yet it allowed him to sit back and at least relax a little, watching the clouds roll by before he ascended above the main layer. Greeted by the shining sun and a few other clouds, he'd gaze upon the great blue sky as he flew. He didn't want to necessarily rush after all with the Burrito Bass still in construction he had time to get there and make things right. Rarely did he get the opportunity to just sit back and reflect, at least out in the open world. He often was pursuing business ventures, and therefore as part of that was stuck in buildings most of the time. Going beyond civilization always filled him with an adventurous spirit. The great expanse, the world held so many things that he didn't know about. He'd learned about Oolong City, the Northern and Southern Lands, the Southern Islands and Pilaf Land, but he'd still not been to places like the Central Lands- at least not long enough to soak it in.
He recalled a time when he went through once before, back when he was transferring from North City to South City- a drastic shift in hindsight. He didn't have the luxury of being taken there, but instead he remembered a time when getting from A to B was a lot more taxing and painful than the same feat was now. At this point he could make the same trip in a simple gesture, it was humbling to think just how far he'd come in his own life. Occasionally he'd move over to the edge of the Mecha Nimbus. Rather large compared to the normal corporeal clouds that accepted the innocent, the Mecha Nimbus was a ever shifting congregation of metallic chunks. Typically that'd make the seating arrangement uncomfortable, but padding was present if a person not so keen on sitting on metal were to ride it.
With his legs now hanging off of the machines side, he watched the ocean roll on by. The endless waves brought back memories of the gigantic kaiju shark that'd attacked South City some time ago. For the most part his memories of that were fond, as the threat the shark was going to pose was hard countered by the collection of those that showed up to defend the city- South City; his home. So with the threat not even turning out that threatening, it just brought back memories of working with other martial artists. The briefing alongside Will and others, the involvement of Duke Satan, among other events were what made the moment special.
Of course, the Namekian didn't let that success get to his head. A non-negotiable rule of his to prepare instead of react, to proactively get stronger with the ideology that it's only a matter of time until a greater threat arrives. If others wanted to take it easy when the Earth was safe, that was their choice, Bass made the choice to make sure to be ready when the time came. He'd see a boat down in the distance, quickly getting closer before starting to fade behind him given the speed the Nimbus was traveling at. Letting out a yawn, he'd crawl back to the main surface of the metallic cloud-like thing and lay down. Closing his eyes, he'd just practically let it fly itself for the moment.
Half an hour later was when he decided to have lunch. Not trusting that other places besides South City would have good burritos, he'd packed a number of them in a compartment of the machine. Pulling aside some metallic chunks that reformed in different places, he'd reveal the compartment and pull out a couple of them. While he was at it, he also fetched a blanket and laid it out over the top of the Nameklann. Using four metallic blocks to pin it down, he'd take a seat on a cushion and enjoy his meal. Carefully unwrapping the tinfoil, his signature burrito would present itself before him. He'd need to be weary of the extreme winds up this high and going as fast as he was however, to that end having the metallic chunks reform into a windshield of a sorts let him enjoy his food in a little more peace and quiet.
The burrito was as classic as they came. Carne Asada, refried beans, rice, an assortment of vegetables, onions, pico de gallo, lettuce, cilantro and cheese topped with chipotle sauce. And for all that nuance the Namekian made it disappear in a fraction of a second, chomping down on it. After all, each burrito was a bite in and of itself; his body demanded a lot of energy. It would be untrue to say that The Burrito Bass wasn't intended to fix his problem as much as it was other martial artists that burned tons of energy and needed more food to sustain themselves. The place when he'd thought of it was meant to be the go to food stop for Martial Artists, but as he thought about it more and more he started to wonder. After all, not all Martial Artists would like the same food he did, and just like people, they liked things of their own. Naturally he couldn't really expand the menu, as going too broad would reduce the quality and timeliness of the existing menu. The place would largely remain thematic to that particular kind of food.
Yet that is not to say Bass never considered solutions. Hypothetically, there was nothing stopping him from opening multiple food joints across the world. Something to draw in a crowd for good food, but more importantly something to fill the most demanding of Martial Artists- and he knew there were some mighty individuals with similarly mighty diets of their own out there. Bass's Burgers? How would he make a pun based on ice cream? A pizza place? Coffee shop? They weren't foods he was quite as passionate about, but if people were passionate about those foods as much as he was for Burritos, he could get behind making it happen.
As those thoughts concluded and the third burrito had vanished, he could see land on the horizon. If the direction he was going was correct, that should be the Central Lands. He'd never really gone here again, despite having been right beside it in the Southlands and Pilaf Lands multiple times. Thinking about it further, wasn't Capsule Corp set up in West City? It would be interesting to meet with them, but he wasn't sure exactly how things might've been functioning, nor did he have any personal connections with the place. Treating them just like any other business didn't do the genius inventors that'd founded it any justice, and so perhaps unless an opportunity arose he'd pass on checking in for now.
Reaching land now, the Namekian had a feeling of familiarity. He remembered his time coming through here, not vividly, but somewhere deep down. What he did remember was the things he encountered along the way, Monsters and bandits, back when they were actually threatening- at least sort of. He'd never been weak by Earthling standards, but surely near the beginning a group of armed assailants would've gotten a sweat going.
Bass noted the things that felt unfamiliar- new buildings and establishments that started scarce and began to get more frequent the closer he got to West City. Somewhere in all of this was the farmland he'd bought to grow The Burrito Bass's produce. Millions of zeni were required to get the amount of space needed for jumbo produce, once again speaking to the scale of his plans. It only made him anticipate opening day that much more, seeing all of his hard work and determination paid off with the reactions from the Martial Arts community. Of course there was only so much he could anticipate, but he knew Martial Artists had a tendency to be chaotic as a whole- meaning they either were overly strict or completely nonsensical, making the community as a whole extremely difficult to gauge.
Well, he had weeks to ponder the semantics. All he knew for certain is that he'd do his best to satisfy an unmet need that existed in the world. Fishing around in the bag he brought along, he'd take out the note he jotted down about the location. It was somewhere East of West City, a few kilometers of land for each item he had growing. He wondered just how screwed they'd have been if he didn't step in, getting an answer to that question as he grew nearer.
The farm was... Like nothing he'd seen before. He knew jumbo stuff was, well, jumbo, but he'd underestimated how that'd translate to being perceived visually. The sheer scale of what he was looking at made him slow down the Nimbus and stop entirely. Down below him was row upon row of truck sized tomatoes hanging from plants that threatened the Tree of Might in terms of stature. Immediately it was apparent that to ordinary workers this was a safety risk, and he realized just how closely he should've had the people here and the ones in R&D working together. In order for this to be sustainable they'd need some kind of crane just to reach that high- for someone like Bass it wasn't too bad, but he couldn't be there all of the time.
Starting to lower down, he'd drift on over towards the farmhouse. Similarly much larger in scale given the scale of their operations, he knew he needed to meet the people that planted these in the first place. After all, his company was growing so much that some people working on the ground didn't even fully know him, their bosses being further down the chain compared to Bass. Moving next to the building as the thrusters weakened, the entire machine would eventually drop a couple of meters and slam into the ground. With a small impression of the mecha-nimbus being formed in the ground, Bass hopped off and straightened his shirt and tie. Making himself more presentable than the harsh winds would, he'd then begin moving towards the building. Fitted with a simple wooden door, the building must've been three stories tall. Tentatively he'd move up the porch, the steps creaking with each step.
Moving up to the door he'd raise his fist to knock, before stopping himself to check the time. Looking down at his watch, it was still early enough in the day that they shouldn't be busy with their dinner. He'd then knock with several taps, awaiting a response with his hands lightly clasped behind his back. Hearing movement from inside, it would take around fifteen seconds for someone to arrive, pulling open the wooden door behind the screen door. Looking towards him, their expression said it all. While his coworkers were used to it, he did still resemble the kind of Demon Clan Namekian that would wreak havoc on people and their villages. At this point Bass could berate them or just give an understanding part smile.
"I get it. I'm not here to cause trouble though. I'm Bass, CEO of The Momentum Corporation. I just flew in from South City, I think you should've been notified?" Bass said, waiting for a moment to hear the persons response. There was an awkward silence before the man snapped out of it, "Sorry, sorry! Yes, we were told about you. Uh come inside, I can tell you what needs to be done."
Pushing open the screen door, the Human man gave Bass a gesture to come in. Doing so, he'd hang his briefcase on one of the coat hangers (as strange as that is) before turning towards them. "Is there somewhere we can sit?" He'd ask, before being led over to a table. Taking a seat and letting out a sigh, the man would walk around while speaking.
"Would you like anything to drink? We have tea, water, orange juice?" He asked, to which Bass responded with a simple, "I'm okay, thanks. So how have things been since harvest season started? I've been told the machinery required didn't arrive in time, and for that I apologize. It's not your fault, so don't worry about not getting paid. In fact, you should've noticed your income has kept coming in uninterrupted. If that's not the case do let me know and I'll pay you directly- and have a word with some executives."
Pausing to then give out a sigh of relief, the man took a seat after grabbing a cup of tea for him on the counter. Clasping it in both hands, he'd give an appreciative response before digging into the details of what needs to be done here. "Well, that's really good to hear. I thought maybe the payments were a mistake and the company didn't know. I'm just tryin' to make ends meet, y'know. I took a big risk agreeing to grow these fruits, even planting them is way harder than any of my former stuff." There was a pause, Bass nodding in acknowledgement. He'd then continue.
"Well, when it comes to vegetables just about everything is ready to harvest. At the moment we're just sitting on more land than I'd ever worked with fully ready to be picked. As is fifty people would have to roll one of these things to get to where you want them, but if you think you can do it I bet you can. Namekians can be pretty tough." He said, skirting around the fact that not only was he a Namekian, but that he had a portion of King Piccolo's power in him. Though he didn't want to offend Bass.
Giving another nod, the Namekian spoke up. "Right. I heard. The company as a whole doesn't really have a back-up plan, so I made the executive decision to stay up here for a few weeks to harvest everything and get it sent out. If you could give me a list of all of the plants being grown and any other disturbances that'd been cropping up here, I can get on it today even." Bass would say, prompting a nod from the man.
"Right, I have some documentation you'll want to read then. It'll lay things out better than I ever could. There are a dozen crops spanning over multiple square kilometers of farmland, and each crop given their size has unique needs that need to be met. I'm not sure how those might apply to you, but I do know for example harvesting a Jumbo Onion and a Jumbo Tomato are two very different tasks. One requires a heavy load bearing machine that can reach up high, while the other requires something like a uh... Excavator, that's the word. The beans also require a lot of uhm... Cutting power to actually remove the beans, but I suppose that's something your company would handle after they're harvested. - Right, here, sorry." He'd say, getting up from his chair to pull a sheet off of a wall it was pinned to. Handing it over to Bass, it'd list things in a much more methodical way. It must've been the original corporate target, as it listed exactly how many seeds of each type were to be planted. Reading through it, Bass would give a nod.
"Also, no need to be sorry. You'd be surprised you know, I'd value your boots on the ground in the thick of it opinion over an official layout. That being said, I think this should give me enough direction to work with. Hypothetically while I could start picking things now, I want to confirm some details beforehand. Given the scale of these ingredients I'll need to get in touch with our intermediary facility that processes them so there's a clear place to drop off each plant. Given the size of them as well, I don't think it's smart for me to carry more than one of the tomatoes at a time. Maybe for a beansprout or something it's fine, but some of these are a bit more delicate than others. I suspect I'll start tomorrow, and as for when I'll be done... Well, I frankly don't know. There's a lot I'll have to do." Bass said, starting to get up. He'd extend the hand towards the farmer.
"Sorry for all the trouble you've had to go through. This mistake was also partly my fault. Another project of mine took priority over making the vehicles for this, so I apologize. I might stop by once or twice to take a break, but otherwise you can find me out in the fields starting tomorrow."
Then the man would take Bass's hand, giving it a shake. He'd also finally introduce himself. "Also, I'm Tofoo, it's nice to meet you Bass."
Giving him a friendly smile, Bass would nod before letting go and turning about. Raising his hand as he walked towards the door he'd say his farewells. "Likewise, I look forward to working with you for years to come. Have a good rest of your day Tofoo." And with that he'd let himself out, the beaming sun shining down on him.
The view from the front door was a lot more ominous, a small gap of sunlight between the porch and the dark Jumbo Tomato forest. The scale of this was hard to fully understand, but he couldn't start picking yet without knowing exactly where he should go. His executives would probably know about it, and with that sentiment he returned to his mecha nimbus to retrieve a bulky looking phone. It was akin to a dial-up phone, yet with no receiver and massive buttons on its surface. Punching in some numbers it'd start to wring, before Bass heard a "Hello?"
Responding, the Namekian spoke. "Hey Sano, it's Bass calling." There was a garble as she responded to him, before he'd get to the point of his phone call. "I need to know where the processing facility is in the Central Lands for our Jumbo produce. I need to know where I'm carrying these things." He said while glancing behind him to the ominous truck-sized tomatoes hanging almost over him. Nodding his head twice as he received a response, he'd turn about and lean against the inactive pile of metal that was the mecha nimbus before.
He'd wait in silence for a minute or two as she went to get his answer, eventually perking up as a voice spoke up through the phone. "Ah, right. I imagine it'd make sense for it to be close. Eastern West City, I imagine that puts it about twenty or so kilometers from the farmland yeah? I think I know where to go." There was a pause as she spoke more, "Oh, you have an address? Sure, tell me." Hearing the exact location put his mind at ease, and he'd do his terrible habit of nodding despite being on a phone call.
"Of course. Thanks for the help Sano. I'll call in if I have any other questions, but that should be it for now. Oh- wait, one more thing. You have purchased the land we'll be building the restaurant in right? Okay, was just making sure. I figure after this I might as well head over there and help build the place since I'm here. That'll make it easier to segway into the Grand Opening." He said, before speaking up to say goodbye.
"Yep, you to. See ya." He'd set the phone back down in an almost receiver like device inside of the Nameklann. The place he had to go should only take him about ten minutes if he flew over on the mecha nimbus, but he decided to just fly there himself, not wanting to get too comfortable with using the vehicle to get around.
Lifting off of the ground, Bass would begin to fly over farmland. It allowed him to get a better idea of the task ahead of him. While he was going far from his full speed flying, it still took him a minute or so to get entirely over the Jumbo Tomato farm alone. Then he could see a Jumbo Onion farm, sprouts shooting high up into the sky. Onions were a personal favorite of the Demon Clan Namekian when it came to toppings, always adding that little bit of punch to the food it was used in. Though from the looks of it, even just pulling these out was going to be a workout. Just like how weights weren't tiring on the first rep, eventually all of these were going to take a toll on his muscles- even for a martial artist as capable as he was.
Given his height he could see further North, where to the other side of the jumbo tomato farm was a jumbo pepper farm. Somewhat similar in appearance, but very different in composition. Nevertheless Bass had no understanding of the logic behind planting the two next to each other, but something something companion plants meant they'd grow better to someone actually versed in farming. He'd see several other plots, but in short time he'd leave it behind him and begin to head towards West City. Here laid Capsule Corp, and what in some opinions could be considered the center of Earthling kind. All walks of life came here, and the Central Lands were the one place equally distant from other lands, meaning it had a nice mix of travelers from all corners of the world. The famous spherical buildings, and especially the bright massive yellow dome with 'Capsule Corp' written on it could be seen in the distance to a trained eye.
What Bass was interested in was a different place however. Going low to the ground he'd start to navigate streets on the cities edge, going further inwards until he saw the street name he was directed to. Flying upwards, there it was. A large dome-like structure with several garages located at the back for bringing in and out various produce. Touching down at the front side where there was an automatic sliding door, he'd step inside. His first priority was to make sure he was in the right place, so approaching the secretary there he'd speak up.
"Hi, excuse me? I just want to make sure I'm in the right place. This facility is expecting to process some Jumbo produce in the near future, yes?" He asked, to which he'd get a delayed response.
"Uhm... I'm not entirely sure. Sir, could I get your name?" She'd ask, and he'd answer. "Bass, I'm the CEO of The Momentum Corporation." Scanning through a list she'd pulled up in front of her, she'd give a nod. "Yes, you're at the right place. Your company contacted us about a delay, but at the moment we're at low capacity, and should be able to handle your processing needs when you're ready. There's a garage at the back you'll be able to offload anything at, just let us know a day in advance." She said, glancing up towards him and away from the sheet she'd been looking at.
"Right, of course. Actually, I suppose this would be it then. We'll be having jumbo tomatoes coming in starting tomorrow. I usually have my executives handle the nitty gritty stuff, but I believe most of this stuff will just be sent to the open market. Though I'd like to request that I personally check the flavor, I'm sure you all do a fantastic job here, but I just want to be thorough." The secretary gave a nod in understanding.
"Sure, I'll forward that information to the boss. Is that everything?" She asked, followed by Bass giving a nod.
"In that case, have yourself a wonderful day." She would say, prompting a response from the Namekian. "You to, I'll probably be here tomorrow morning sharp and early."
And he'd walk through the automatic doors, shooting upwards into the sky to start heading back towards the farm. He would have a little more downtime than he'd expect until the harvest began the next morning. After all, he didn't want to leave fresh produce sitting around for a day until their partnered processing plant was ready to receive it. Ingredients needed to be absolutely fresh, and he would settle for no less.
[4104 words. 22389 Farming Words req'd.] [10488 running total]
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Post by Bass on Jun 28, 2021 19:26:19 GMT -8
Flying back towards the farmstead, the Namekian considered his options for the rest of the day. Starting now would only degrade the quality of the product, but he supposed a good use of his time would instead be combing for any pests. After all, it was noteworthy to consider that just like normal crops have normal pets, Jumbo crops might have attracted some of the nastier monsters in search of food from the wilderness. Considering how large the farm was and how it was too large to be tended to without machinery at this point, the odds of disturbances among the forests of Tomatoes and Onions was more probably than Bass wanted to admit.
He figured he should start with the closest areas first. The bell pepper and tomato farms would be easier to check considering ground level would have tracks the Namekian could follow. Theoretically if there were any powerful monsters he could lock onto their ki signatures, but he doubted there would be anything of the sort. However as he arrived, the situation he'd thought up in his head would be more real than he thought previously. Standing out on the porch as Bass landed, the farmer waved towards him and called out towards him.
"Hey! You're tough right? I actually forgot to mention something pretty important earlier. Y'know, as you're aware growing this stuff isn't a common thing. In fact I'd go as far as to say proper farms for Jumbo crops are nigh non-existent. There's a lot of people that have taken an interest, and I'm worried based on some suspicious folks I've seen around that someone might try to run off with some of it for their own reasons. Just thought it'd help to let you know." He said, rapping his knuckles on the wooden railing next to the stairs leading to ground level.
Taking a moment to fix his tie, the Demon Clan Namekian gave a thumbs up and a nod of his head. "Good timing, I was thinking of something like that. Though I didn't honestly consider other Earthlings would be interested in this. At least not enough to try to steal from us. You think they got something capable of even transporting these?" He asked, rubbing the back of his neck while moving into the farmhouses yard.
"Sure they do, otherwise they wouldn't be eying it. Whatever it is, it looks like they're just waiting for something much like yourself. I'd actually recommend hiring some folks to do security around these parts, after all I don't think you plan on permanently sticking around." He'd say with a small laugh, pinching the edge of his had to lower it so that the sun didn't get in his eyes.
"Right. I was actually just thinking the same thing. Hm... I might need to get in touch with some martial artists. I don't doubt just hiring some people could ward off any Earthling attackers if they're good enough, but what I'm more worried about are monstrous pests coming our from the wilderness for a snack. That kind of thing will be chaotic, it could be easy to handle, or it could be something like..." His mind once again trailed back to the Shark as he spoke. While it wasn't a challenge for them, that could pose a threat of extinction for people. Of course, the likelihood of something like that happening was so slim that if it did he'd make an exception and go deal with it himself. The threat of monsters and the like among the crops was most certainly real.
"Ah, I didn't even think about that. It's a good thing I haven't gone wandering around in there. You sure your people did their due diligence in sorting out this whole fiasco? Sounds like a lot of problems are coming up that could of been fixed with some foresight." The farmer said. Bass admitted he had a point, folding his arms across his chest.
"Yeah, I'll have to have a talk with some people, but for now I have to make lemons out of lemonade." He stated with confidence, to which he'd get a quick reply.
"Uhm... Don't ya' mean lemonade out of lemons?" There was a silent pause as Bass thought about it, that made a lot of sense.
"Uh... Yeah... That." He said, rolling his shoulders as he prepared to patrol the Tomato farm. "Anyways, I'm going in. The processing plant will be ready tomorrow morning, so for today I'm just going to make sure nothing's interfering with the plants be they pests or people." The Namekian declared, getting a nod from the farmer.
"Well I'll be wishing you good luck then sir. This is a mighty big farm, if not for them machines your people said were coming I'd have walked a long time ago. It's truly wild how big those things can grow." He admitted as Bass walked between the first rows of tomato plants. Almost immediately darkness enshrouded him as the massive overhanging tomatoes blocked out the sun. Rows and rows of massive tomato plant stalks were aligned in a grid-like pattern, making the depths of the farm almost confusing to orient oneself in. Bass had the luxury of being able to fly up and out when he needed to, but it gave him all of the more necessary context when it would eventually come to the point he'd be giving his company advice on how best to set up automation of the area.
Eventually the light from the edge of the farm faded behind him, and on all sides the Namekian was surrounded in the massive plants. Taking a moment to do a full three sixty to really immerse himself in it, he came to the conclusion he'd need to be methodical with his approach. If he just chaotically flew around, it would be all too easy to miss patches as he looked for anything of note. Though the real horror was that he wouldn't have to look far. Plenty of life that usually never surfaced to be met with Earthlings were interested in these superfoods. On one stalk alone, Bass could see ants the size of dogs crawling up and down the stalk while taking down chunks of jumbo tomato. If there were giant ants... Well.
He didn't want his mind to trail towards spiders, but where there were bugs there were creatures that could eat bugs. One of the biggest and most infamous predators of inside-kind were arachnids. He couldn't help but be looking specifically to spot one, even if theoretically none existed in the farmland. First he had to deal with the ants though, and to that end the process was rather simple for this instance- but the bigger challenge lied in making sure it wouldn't happen again. Flying overhead he'd follow the hive mind conga line to where they were returning with the food. After a five minute trail, a mound among the plants became all the more apparent.
What was even worse, is that his worst fears were becoming more real. Just next to the ant hill was a curled up preying mantis the size of a car, having been swarmed by dog ants that through teamwork took it down. The meat from it was also being brought to the ant-hill the size of a small house. Shuddering in disgust, he began to ruminate on if there were even preventative measures powerful enough to ward off creatures like this. It wasn't sustainable for a super ecosystem to form and feed off of their produce, it posed genuine health and safety risks. What if a spider had tunneled into a tomato that was brought to the processing plant? Amidst dozens of workers, normal Earthlings, a spider the size of a van crawling out would be extremely dangerous and genuinely traumatizing. Yet using pesticides on a scale to kill creatures like this would pose a risk to worker safety. The only solution was by far a cheap one, and that was hiring martial artists to maintain the farm.
Even then, how? He could painstakingly eradicate every bug he came across, but that rarely ever addressed the root of infestations. The ant mound he was looking at could travel downwards for a hundred meters given their size, and that possibility didn't sit well with him. Plus, it felt morally wrong to just torch insects when they're as big as these are- but... They still seemed just as mindless as their younger cousins. He could flood the hive, but that would require more water than he had access to. It could also potentially drown the neighboring tomato plants. Collapsing the hive would be disastrous, as to compensate the ants would make new tunnels to get to the surface- and at that point there would be holes all over the farm. Even Bass was stumped by the complexity of the problem before him. There was one potential option. If he focused his senses, he might be able to pick up the ki signature of a Queen Ant that he presumed would be at least the size of a car. If he could kill them, the entire hive would dissolve given the nature of these bugs. It wasn't too farfetched, but it required focusing beyond the sound of hundreds of scuttling super bugs. While he was suspended in the air, bugs just... Had a way, and it definitely creeped the Namekian out.
Even so, this was his only shot- no pun intended. Going off of his gut feeling as he narrowed his eyes, he could feel a variety of creatures around the tomato patch. The one in question was below him, sure, but the others he started to notice around the farm were equally terrifying- especially the notable signatures that seemingly floated in the air. That meant either a bee, or... Or a spider. Though tomato plants didn't really give pollinators too much to work with unless Bass was mistaken. At the very least, he figured he'd gotten the answer on why the farmland hadn't had a robbery attempt yet. These bugs were terrifying, their mindless scuttling and twitchy motions. Being upscaled made them less enigmatic, but their behavior was still jarring enough to be unsettling. Moving over the mound to the right, he'd suspended in the air upside down place a palm on the ground. Building up ki in his palm, he'd fire it out like a tank round.
Ripping through the ground as a hyper-condensed sphere, the blast would eventually make contact with the ki signature. When it did, he sensed neither the creature nor the blast aside from the literal rumbling caused by it. Part of the ground sagged as the Queen's chamber was suddenly made much larger and collapsed in on itself. That was when the swarming started. Hundreds of dog sized ants started to move without any sort of direction, racing around like chickens with their heads cut off. A normal ant colony would die out without doing much damage, but Bass felt like something of this scale needed to be micromanaged. Extending his palms, he'd fire blast after blast reducing bugs to paste within the forest of jumbo tomato plants.
That alone took a long time as they poured out and scattered. He tracked down and dealt with as many as he could, but at one point he needed to accept that it was inevitable with so many, they'd be hard to entirely annihilate manually. The remainder with no Queen would simply die off or be caught by predators without any sort of cohesion.
Returning back to his route he'd planned out, he began to fly slightly in from the tomato farms left side. Drifting through trees, for the most part he really wouldn't see any problems. A couple of times he'd some unrecognizable super insect species, but in all of those cases he'd just deal with them with a ki blast. The ant infestation was the worst he'd seen so far. Of course, other pests like aphids and whiteflies seemed to exist that similarly endangered the jumbo plants they jumbo fed on, but for the most part those were minor. At least that's what Bass thought, until he bore witness to what looked to be a grouping of crickets on one stalk. Seeing light shining through the crops, he'd arrive to this anomalous patch of the farm to see destruction. Munching away at the stalks and jumbo tomatoes were what looked to be crickets that were the size of ponies, which were in actuality an incredibly dangerous pest for farming; in fact the most infamous. Locusts. Given the very niche ecosystem he thankfully didn't see hundreds of them, but dozens was cause for concern in and of itself. Ki blasting them, the swarm started to fly up and towards him, prompting a frantic volley of ki blasts that cut them to pieces. He wasn't aware of just how aggressive they were, but being free of their potential assault was relieving.
Looking at the mess, the best he could do was remove the damage to somewhere else to let a healthy plant grow in its' place. Flying down and picking up one of the stems, with a great amount of effort he'd begin dragging the plant out of the farm. Tossing it to an empty patch of wilderness, it could serve as food to normal insects and wildlife. Brushing his hands off after a few trips, he'd return to his patrol. From his mental gymnastic, he figured he'd combed through about thirty percent of the tomato farms perimeter. Though that would be the biggest lap, and all subsequent paths would be shorter and shorter, so he figured he was about twenty percent done. Truthfully compared to his worries, he was relieved that the damage didn't seem to be beyond helping. While there were certainly problems, it seemed as if the entire crop wasn't in danger of being ruined since he was intervening.
Flying around the edge of the farms right side now, Bass would see what looked to be some kind of beetle that was the size of a car. It had mandibles that crunched away at the stalk of one of the tomato plants, gooey sap leaning out onto the ground. Yet it was only when he extended his hand that he noticed... Above the beetle, two long spindly forelegs reached down to snatch the critter.
His eyes darted upwards.
[2411 words. 19978 Farming Words req'd.] [12899 running total]
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Post by Bass on Jun 29, 2021 8:08:20 GMT -8
Darting up perhaps was a little bit of an overstatement. Comprised of equal parts dreadful horror and looming suspense, Bass slowly craned his head upwards to look at the creature. All signs pointed to- mhm, that's what it was. As his eyes settled on the arachnid upscaled to the size of a small bus, a shudder went through his entire spine. He'd never been a fan of insects, but arachnids? Those were horrifying (even if he understood deep down that they weren't all that bad). It appeared to have an hourglass like marking on its abdomen, and while someone familiar with spiders might know what that meant, he was entirely in the dark.
He just chose to watch as the scene before him played out. Venom dribbled from gnashing mandibles as from a trail of silk as thick as rope, the spider lowered down on the bug clueless to its presence. Then in a moments notice it'd lunge, legs curling up around the entirety of the creature as the spider sunk its fangs into prey. Bass didn't need to see the microecosystem of bugs upscaled to a point where he could vividly see what was happening. The chitin being torn apart, the gooey blood and the massive fangs all did things to him that could very well develop an outright fear of insects if he didn't have a willpower strong enough to overcome such a thing.
He was a little stumped on what to do. Some Earthlings were the size of that little critter being sucked of nutrients at the moment, and that posed a massive safety hazard for working in the farm. Yet on the other hand spiders did a huge part in eliminating pests, and normally when they're normal sized a wise farmer might keep them around or use other carnivorous species of insects to do what they want; neutralizing the types of bugs that eat the crops. Scratching his chin as he watched the bug being eaten twitch a final time and then stop, a bead of sweat built up on his face. Only when it seemed well and truly dead did the spider do anything different, and naturally he was in for a very terrifying jump scare.
Suddenly the eight eyes swiveled around rapidly before locking on him, a blue bug sized creature within five meters of it, which was actually larger than he was. Immediately it saw him as equal parts threat and prey, and leaped in his direction. For once in his life the Namekian let out a little scream like he'd just been pants by an older sibling, firing off an energy blast as a reaction. Flinching he'd slowly look back, seeing the nearby plants covered in a green blood. He took a moment to realize that even he had a bit of the stuff on him, so he wiped it off in much the same places that already had been covered.
Shuddering as he picked the fragments of his absolutely obliterated fortitude up and pieced them together metaphorically, he'd start his patrol again with a shake of his head to clear his thoughts. Drifting between the different plant stalks, tomatoes hanging high overhead, he'd finish the first lap with no further incidents.
Drifting further inside the tomato farm, his surroundings would become darker. His mind naturally drifted to how these creatures came to be. Was it an effect of the jumbo crops? If so, that could be a useful thing to market for martial artists, a power boost of some kind to take their training to the next level. It was an interesting idea to say the least, one that Bass focused a little too much on for flying in almost sheer darkness after just running into a small bus sized spider. Strangely enough after that incident had passed, he quickly forgot about it and carried on as per usual.
Part of him hoped he wouldn't find anything else, but he was almost certain there would be a few other pests lurking around these plants. Though surprisingly the Namekian didn't see all that much. It wasn't until Bass heard a little bit of rumbling that he started to wonder. Drifting to the side a little, squinting in the darkness he'd spot what looked to be a fuzzy creature sniffling around and digging through the dirt. The only catch of course was that this particular creature was also similarly larger than its normal variations. Particularly unbeknownst to him the Namekian was looking at a larger version of a mole. Their involvement here in actuality wasn't all that surprising, as below the surface worms probably did worm things and helped promote growth in the farm by breaking down dead plant matter and soil so that plants have more access to water and nutrients from the ground.
Unlike bugs, unfortunately blasting and causing animals- even if they were larger monstrous versions of themselves - to explode was out of the question. The Namekian would have to dispatch it in a much more humane way than that, if he even chose to do so. The repercussions of a jumbo farm on this scale were unprecedented, and already the Namekian had thought of so many changes that he'd need to call head office for. The mole in front of him finally got what it was searching for, a worm the size of a pool noodle that glistened with slime as it was slurped up by the mole. Letting a faint grimace grace his features, Bass found himself contemplating what to do. Even if this was a one off (to which, moles are often in groups) killing an animal that was probably once a normal sized mole wasn't going to feel good. The other option was removing it and placing it and its friends somewhere else, but that posed a risk to nearby Earthlings, the local wildlife and it'd eventually lead to the jumbo moles starving out as they failed to find enough food outside of this jumbo ecosystem to sustain themselves.
Snapping his fingers however, on another note he'd just thought of an idea. If the jumbo fruits created jumbo animals, he could use that. Jumbo beef, jumbo- the entrepreneurial mind of Bass lit up with a possibility to have a one hundred percent jumbo ingredient meal instead of two thirds with the last third sourced from normal proteins and such. Completing the meal with fully jumbo ingredients would allow him to then naturally meet the demands of those with jumbo appetites. He knew just how much eating most martial artists were capable of, so he was trying his best to make sure the restaurant would work at capacity. Unfortunately when it came to production, that meant Bass would have to get an entire jumbo cooking line. He needed jumbo presses, jumbo cooking machinery, jumbo storage, the word jumbo raced through his mind over and over as the mole sniffed around a little ways ahead of him.
Now that he thought about it, to operate jumbo machinery he'd even need jumbo cooks. A fat Earthling doesn't count, he'd need a monster or an ogre or something, and not just one- an entire team. The financial burden of the investment just increased for the Namekian, for finding a team of supersized cooks to dish out supersized food would mean combing through the most exclusive specialties in the world. After all, when someone fills a niche their value goes up by an extraordinary amount. That being said, at least when it came to monsters the Namekian knew they'd have difficulty finding work in a normal environment. Even so, he wasn't keen on selling them short of their capabilities. If there was a-
"Aaaaah!" Returning back to reality, Bass looked down to see the mole latched onto his leg. He was too strong for that to really do any noteworthy damage however, and flailing his leg about the mole would fling back and forth several times before being sent flying off towards the ground where it impacted and rolls several times before laying on its back. Unfortunately it... Wasn't appearing to be recovering. Feeling a pit in his stomach like a kid that'd just done something bad, he flew over towards the creature to get a closer feel for if it had any ki signature whatsoever. Landing on the ground and leaning forward, he felt nothing.
There was a saddened sigh. Though it was better this way than having to psyche himself up. At the very least he might be able to personally make a meal out of it, but he didn't know if he could even eat the whole thing. Furthermore, he wasn't entirely aware of what kind of effect the food would have given it came from a jumbo creature. If suddenly Earthlings started quadrupling in size, that would pose as a huge problem for business. He needed to send these back to research and development back in South City for analysis and testing. He couldn't risk testing it blind with himself or the farmer and his family. At the moment, the Namekian saw no reason that these plants wouldn't cause extreme growth. Surely some might care for something like that, but to function in Human society demanded certain things, and being that large would only complicate matters for anyone who wasn't a martial artist. Even nearing seven feet, Bass found doors to be troublesome much of the time.
With another thing added to his agenda, he'd quickly fly the mole out towards his vehicle. Pulling apart some blocks, he'd stuff it in a massive empty freezer to preserve it until he was ready to go. To his knowledge, he was just about finished skimming the tomato farm. On the bright side at least, if people kept on top of potential pests in the garden they'd never have an opportunity to become jumbo from a diet like this. The farm had been ready for harvest for about a week at this point, so the insects had all of that time to eat and grow to the now tremendous size they were at. Just using simple deduction the growth would be at an exponential rate, as being larger meant they consumed more, which caused them to grow more. He was not aware of these effects would fade if the creatures were removed from the jumbo farm. He assumed they would not, as the body had already been built up, but then again he'd seen weirder things.
Going back into the farm, he had about twenty percent around the middle of it to still look through. Of course, this scouring had only been in the tomato farm so far. The suspense of what could potentially be active in the center of the farm grew more pressing on the Namekians mind. He had the courage to take an educated guess based off the occasional overhead buzzing he could hear, but he really didn't like the idea of the center of the tomato farm having a giant beehive of some kind. Though sure enough as he closed in on the center, the sight of yellow and black bugs flying up and out of the tomato farm became more apparent. The worst part was, they weren't even bees.
They were hornets, now of the gigantic variety. It made sense after all, tomatoes didn't provide much nutrition for traditional bees, but hornets were carnivores that could eat just about anything comprised of meat. They'd been preying on the bugs in the farm itself, and perhaps in some ways Bass could thank them that this disaster hadn't been bigger than it otherwise would've been. Yet the potentially hundreds of hornets each the size of a car flying around a nest the size of a mansion amidst the tomato plants was intimidating to behold, and genuinely dangerous. Unlike even spiders, these creatures notoriously were defensive, and if someone even got close when trying to harvest the tomatoes they would- not mincing words, be killed. One sting would be enough to kill an Earthling, let alone even some martial artists that were only just beginning their journey. This could prove to be a pretty serious fight, one the Namekian did not want to do. A hornets nest can have hundreds of them, and with their size the entire area could become a battlezone if he disturbed the nest without a good plan. Yet the best plan was just to make a large enough blast to kill off the forty percent that were likely inside.
Swallowing his hesitation, he'd brace himself as he raised a hand. Tightening in his palm was a hyper condensed sphere of blue green energy that once the size of a marble, began to push forward until it disappeared into the nest. Like the hottest knife in history, it glided through the nest until reaching the center. Even now from that tiny disturbance, Bass could see the hornets wings beating rapidly in agitation. Taking in a deep breath, he'd close his fist and cause the signature ki technique to erupt in a massive explosion. The entire nest would be torn apart as vehicle sized chunks of hive were launched across the tomato plant farm. Immediately all hell broke loose.
The ones that weren't dead, foragers and many on the nest began to buzz around sporadically. Pure death in their eyes, they'd fly at him with stingers and massive mandibles at the ready. Immediately Bass took to the open skies above the tomato farm, and alongside him dozens of massive hornets flew out as well. Extending his hands, he'd start to fire off ki blasts and weave his head and body around stingers. Some even packed so much force that the stinger outright ejected from their bodies, a new one growing into its place- some kind of mutation. Nearly being struck as he caught a swinger inches away from his gut, he slammed a fist into the creature with enough force for it to evaporate before firing twin ki blasts towards two that were flanking him.
For ten entire minutes this chaos ensued. Bass moving rapidly, blocking attacks and firing off ki blasts. The sky illuminated with green bug guts and bright ki blasts, sending energy left and right as the tomato farm below started to get a glossy green sheen from the carnage being caused.
It was only near the end that the most terrifying of the hornets made itself known. Thought to have been killed in the initial blast, a massive- absolutely gargantuan house sized hornet buzzed up sounding more like a helicopter than an insect. Turning about to face it, the burned and damaged features that it suffered in the blast became apparent. One mandible was missing, the creatures flight was irregular, and it had burn marks across an entire side of its body. Yet before it could do anything it collapsed from its wounds, hurtling down through the jumbo tomato plants and slamming into the ground below with a resounding boom.
Following after it, Bass cleared out any stray hornets that remained before looking towards the creature. It twitched on the ground in the throes of death, to which Bass chose to put it out of its misery instead of stretching the encounter out anymore than he had to. Flying through the farm, he'd deal with any larva that remained in the remaining honeycombs.
Then he'd do a final sweep through the single farm he'd gone through at this point. Understanding that the worms were doing no harm to the farm and posed no danger, he chose not to deal with them. If nothing else they could be a research point for the Bassic Biology team to conduct extended observation. If they continued to grow without a discernible endpoint that'd come to some very different conclusions than if that was not the case. Yet considering that eventually the jumbo environment would only sustain a creature so large, he suspected the worms would stop growing at a certain point where they would risk not being able to sustain their mass anymore.
Once he'd finished his second sweep, he'd return back to his vehicle. He needed to make a number of calls, and thinking of the mole he'd also need to send both a sample of it and a sample of the jumbo tomato over to the Bassic Biology team for further analysis. He'd hope that they could find a way to reduce growth or eliminate it entirely, as he didn't want his business to be creating giants, it just wasn't sustainable in an Earthling environment. On the contrary, musing with his thoughts he figured it would be interesting to have a giant society somewhere out there, but that was neither here nor there. Perhaps as one of his crazy ideas he could found a giant city, where it's main selling point was well, giants, he guessed. Still, that didn't stop him from picking up the phone and making the first of several phone calls. The phone rang for several moments before a man answered on the other end of the line.
"Ello? Bassic Biology at your service." He said, some kind of catch-line they were incentivized to give.
"Hey, it's Bass calling. I need to send you guys a sample from our farms out in the Central Lands. The crops here have been causing creatures to grow significantly beyond their natural sizes. To give you a perspective, imagine an ant the size of a dog. I'm almost certain the jumbo crops are causing it, did we get a weird batch or is this normal?" Bass asked, to which a bout of silence followed before the man answered.
"No, no, I'm pretty sure that's incredibly abnormal. Usually jumbo fruits don't make jumbo things, but this could be amazing. Bass! You know that the greatest scientific achievements can often be caused by complete accidents? Don't you know what this means? We could make more efficient food, we could create big peo-" He was interrupted by the Namekian.
"Yeah yeah, I thought about all that. At this point I just want you to try and separate the thing that makes things grow when they eat it. We can talk about that later, but right now my jumbo farms are at risk of making people at least quadruple in size, and I don't know about you, but that sounds incredibly disastrous. I also have a mole that grew, I figure bringing its preserved body will help analyze just how the seemingly mutant jumbo fruit is causing this and to what extent the effects apply." Bass said, after which the scientist replied.
"R-Right, that makes sense. I'll prioritize that, but I highly recommend we do something with the whole growing aspect. Maybe some kind of special version that could empower people for a little while so it's more sustainable and gives people a fun time, that'd be pretty good eh?" He asked, exploiting Bass's entrepreneurial mind to get clearance.
"Sure, that works. I'll be there in uh... Hm. I could get there instantly, but getting back would... Well, I want this research to start immediately, so see you in a second. Bye!" Having known the guy well enough to lock onto his tiny ki signature, Bass would snatch a jumbo tomato and open up the freezer to place a hand on the jumbo mole.
Closing his eyes, Bass and the two things he was directly grabbing disappeared.
[3241 words. 16737 Farming Words req'd.] [16140 running total]
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Post by Bass on Jun 29, 2021 13:03:44 GMT -8
In a single moment, the Namekian and the things he'd brought with him appeared within the research laboratory. The particular place in question was located back in the sublevels of Momentum HQ, where most of the large projects that were taken on happened.
The lab had several branches, but their names and specific functions could often overlap. Mechanical, Biological and quite literally 'Other' were the three different sub-labs. The first and second were rather self explanatory in what they kept themselves busy with, but the third was much more cryptic. There were various projects the Namekian needed done, and some of them didn't exactly conform to normality as much of other science does. Examples have existed, spaces that were larger inside than they were outside for example. The team assigned under 'Other' were responsible for pioneering the unknown through science, and coming to a conclusion that would directly assist Bass in his training. After all, he paid them handsomely, so he didn't really feel guilty about the fact that the project in question was for him and basically him alone. Of course, that 'project' was still very much in the works, and wouldn't be coming to fruition for some time yet especially considering the recent shifting of priorities necessary to get those vehicles out.
Moving into the biolab, Bass would come to see a variety of different chambers and projects. Most of them seemed to have to do with medicine, but some of it had to do with nutritional studies. Though most importantly were opportunities like what was before them, an anomaly in a biological thing that needed to be broken down and studies. Practically rolling the tomato and dragging the mole, Bass didn't seem to understand the delicacy of a lab setting. In just another moment the research lead that he'd spoken with hurried out from another room and exclaimed for him to stop with an outstretched hand.
"Woah, woah! This is a lab, you have to be careful. Aaah... Now it's just sitting there, what to do what to do... Alright look, bring it over here then. We'll get to work on isolating whatever is causing the growth in things that eat it, and I'll also start working on a uh... Well, in simple terms I'll be making a big needle you can stick into your farmland, and it should effect the genetics of the jumbo fruit to make them more uhm... Sustainable? Well of course we'll want a version that keeps that property- but right, like you said on the phone as a normal product it'd be bad for business." The scientist concluded, getting a small nod from Bass.
As he started to move the two things to where he was directed to, he'd give his response. "I'll need the fix as soon as possible. I'll be starting deliveries tomorrow, and I can't be delivering products that are going to make people huge, that's a lawsuit in the making. However I think it's even naive in my eyes to expect something to be ready to be used tomorrow to fix this. I think my best bet is to for now just see if all of the farms have the same problem. It might've just been the tomato plant seeds that were mutated and the others are normal." Rubbing the back of his neck after he dropped off both the tomato and mole in two separate empty vats, glass walls would rise up as the scientist pressed a button. Quickly, a liquid would begin to submerge them.
"I get you want this to happen fast, but if we're not careful it could only cause more problems. I think it's not out of the question that we could get something back to you in a weeks time. That gives us a couple of days to identify the element responsible, a couple of days to extract it and a couple of days to create a uh... I guess you could call it a cure in simple terms. Really we'd just be targeting the culprit gene in the mutated jumbo crops and destroying it. It's a little more complicated than that, but I'm used to talking to folks without a lifetimes worth of scientific research under their belt. In the meantime let's hope your idea checks out." He said, sticking his hands in the pockets of his labcoat while striding over to a terminal. As a variety of information started to present itself, his eyes widened ever so slightly before dimming again as he turned towards the Demon Clan Namekian.
"Anyways, we need to get to work then. Best of luck with what you have to do, we'll be busy until this is done so I'd think twice before coming to us for help with another problem. By the way uhm... You didn't actually mention this before but..." He looked towards the terminal, a finger tentatively pointing towards something he wanted Bass to look at.
"Jumbo Tomatoes don't have brains either." He said, revealing as Bass looked an internal scan of the fruit. whatever they'd gotten was at this point becoming more and more mysterious. Rubbing his temples together, Bass let out a sigh.
"Alright, alright. So then what are you telling me here doc? Are they going to grow legs and run rampant or are they just self aware of the fact that they're being harvested and eaten alive by insects?" The Namekian asked. There was hesitation in the doctors response as he was piecing together the details, a hand rubbing at his chin.
"I... Maybe? I think since this one didn't come alive and attack you, they must be sleeper agents or something? Bass do you know anyone that would try to sabotage this? The growth mutation is one thing, but they have brains, these are barely even Jumbo fruits at this point." The doctor posed quite the conundrum that caused the Demon Clan Namekian to carefully consider his next words. His mind combed through various competitors. This could be something to do with Pilaf Land, but they're not really known for being nasty outside of their main place of operation, which was well... Pilaf Land. Capsule Corp definitely wasn't at fault, The Momentum Corporation wasn't even close to their level of consumer engagement anyways.
Better yet as Bass thought, who even knew about the jumbo crops? In addition, who was their supplier? In order to buy the farmland the company needed to declare what it'd be used for, so some folks in the real estate bubble were aware of it. In order to have the jumbo crops processed they needed to share information with the processing plant well in advance so they could make sure to be equipped for the haul. As he thought about it, another scientist came up and looked towards the diagram that'd appeared. His eyes would widen, pointing towards it defensively.
"That is absolutely not what we cleared to get planted, why does it have a brain?" He asked, prompting a response from the other. "We're thinking it's some sort of uhm... What's the word..." Snapping his fingers as he looked for a suitable word, he'd exclaim, "-biological time bomb. I-" He'd be cut off by the other scientist speaking up.
"No no, you're not understanding. When the company bought the seeds they had us analyze them to make sure they were safe to grow. We found nothing that'd indicate any of these changes. This isn't our fault by the way-" He said defensively while looking towards Bass, causing the Namekian to glance his way.
"I never thought it was. You brought up a very good piece of evidence. If it wasn't like that from the beginning, that gets the seller off of the hook. That meant someone after the fact showed up and tampered with their growth. It'd have had to be early on to actually take effect as well as it has. Hm..." That was a key piece of evidence. It narrowed down the timeline their suspect had to tamper with the fruits down to a few weeks after the seeds had been planted.
That early on, the only ones aware of what they were doing was the real estate company and the jumbo processing plant. He had a hunch, but he felt like his problem lay in that plant. The real estate company didn't really seem to have a plausible motive, whereas the processing plant he could theoretically see a few with. He'd need to investigate for any of his guestimation to be conclusive.
"Okay. I think I know what to do now. You two just-" The newer scientist in the room raised his hand, giving Bass a window to speak up. "Huh? What is it?" The scientist would then respond in turn. "We actually have records and samples of the Jumbo Tomato Plant seeds. I think that would really speed things up when it comes to turning around a fix for this thing." That statement caused the other scientist to snap his fingers.
"He's right actually. That cuts a lot of our time down, being able to cross reference a normal Jumbo crop and the mutated ones. We'll be able to get something to you in three days. We're getting to work now, good luck boss." He said as he hurried with his colleague into another room, calling for a laboratory meeting to discuss plans on how to tackle the situation.
Bass meanwhile was just left by himself in front of the science equipment. The bubbling of the vats was unsettling to say the least, especially the inanimate body of a vehicle sized mole. Needless to say he didn't hesitate to leave the room, heading out of the biological laboratory and moving over towards the neighboring mechanical engineering department. He'd knock on the side of the door while entering, pushing down on a bar along the front. Immediately one of them would turn around and yelp.
"We're so sorry sir there was a huge delay and y'know you wanted us t-!" Bass raised a hand to signal them to stop, clarifying the gestures entire meaning as he spoke.
"Relax, take it easy. You're not at fault for what's happening right now, I had you working with the Other Lab on a personal project, that's on me. Of course with that being said I assume the vehicles are on your priority list now? I figured while I was here, I could personally deliver some information that'd help make better vehicles for the job." Bass said.
The scientists demeanor relaxed once he realized he wasn't on the chopping block, grabbing his freshly brewed cup of coffee and taking a sip from it. "Sorry, aha. The executives weren't quite as tame about things. Nevertheless that would help a lot. We think we almost have the loaders done, might be finished in a few days, but some of the other machinery we've hit roadblocks on. Nobody has actually provided us with a picture of the farm, so we're not exactly sure what design would best help the situation." The scientist said with a frustrated undertone to his voice. Bass simply listened, nodded, and then gave some of the details he came across.
"Well, the jumbo tomatoes are suspended between twenty five and forty meters high, meaning you will need some kind of crane to reach that high and load them. Perhaps some kind of ramp going downwards that the tomatoes can roll down and into a loader or something. As for the other farms, my search of those areas has yet to be done. Though just off the top of my head you're going to need an excavator type machine to take out the vegetables that grow out of the ground, and you'll need something with a big saw in order to cut through the beanstalks to actually get the beans. I'll be a phone call away, and if I figure anything else out I'll let you and the team know right away." Bass said, taking a step back towards the door. As he did so, the scientist on the other side of the room leaning back against a counter frantically scribbled down the information that was relayed to him.
"Sounds good Bass. We'll keep that in mind. Those vehicles will be ready in... Maybe two weeks, but I think that should be fine considering they're harvesters and well, it seems like we have you for this harvest. It's difficult trying to solve a problem remotely, aha. Anyways, good luck." He said, to which Bass gave his signature short nod and backed out through the door. He looked down the way towards where the 'Other' laboratory was located, but opted not to go there at the moment. It had nothing to do with the problems in front of him, it was something he'd have to deal with later.
Exiting the basement, he'd come up to the main level of the building, one of the workers crossing paths with him.
"You're still here Bass? Wow." He'd say, to which Bass just gave a nice little smile accompanied with a thumbs up.
"Always here." He'd say, trying to come off as jokingly menacing. Regardless, the employee made his way back up the stairs with what seemed like a late afternoon snack.
That made his mind go towards the secretary that was likely under barrage of requests she originally wasn't qualified to handle. Creeping up near the lobby, he'd listen in to a conversation happening at the front desk.
"Hey, I need your signature to authorize a business transaction between Velocity Financial and The Momentum Corporation." One employee would say, prompting the secretary to exclaim.
"This isn't my job! All of you keep pestering me about things that aren't my job, and I'm getting tired of it. If it's a joke it's time to stop..." She said, hand pressing to her forehead.
"No, uhm... Bass told us to talk to you instead of him while he's doing something in another land or something. Something about Burritos."
Suddenly there was practically a war cry of frustration from the secretary as she pulled at her hair. "Aaaaaaaah! Why is it always about the Burritos! Burrito Meeting! Free Burrito Day! All Burritos paid by Bass day! Showing up to work with Burritos on my and every single employees desk day! I'm sick of them! I've tried every single variation on the menu and even then I've had so much of every single type that I'm terrified I'm going to start putting on weight! Take your stupid signature and go." She'd say as the silence resumed save the sound of scribbling. As paper was picked up and handed over, the employee meekly made his way around the corner and came face to face with Bass. The employees face naturally paled given the circumstance.
"Uh... H-hey Bass." He said, prompting a short, "Hey." As a response. It seemed she overheard the name and interaction around the corner, as almost immediately the sound of a chair moving and a subtle 'crap crap crap' could be heard from the secretary. Smoothly passing the employee as he rounded the corner into the main lobby, he made eye contact with the secretary. Immediately she began to plead for her job, causing Bass's face to scrunch up like some kind of Yakuza thug, silencing the secretary entirely.
"S-sorry Bass... Please uh..." Bass's eyes narrowed as she spoke, he would then speak.
"So from what I'm understanding here, I have a recommendation." With a moments pause and the secretary terrified she was about to be laid off, Bass made two fingergun gestures and spoke up. "I recommend you try a Burrito Bowl, I've never tried them but I heard it's a healthier alternative to a burrito itself, and I think you might even get more bang for your buck. You should've told me sooner!" Visibly pale in the face, the secretary listened as color started to return to her features.
"I-I... Sure, yeah, yeah I'll try that. Th-thanks for the advice." She'd say, to which Bass didn't move, but instead spoke again.
"As for why I have you doing what you're doing, I'm considering you for a promotion. That's about as clear as I'll be given the nature of my hiring process for other positions. If you can't handle it just give me a call, but I figured the best way to see someones true character is through a trial by fire. Maybe a bit old fashioned, but hey, I like old fashioned. Anyways, good luck." He'd begin heading for the doors for the second time on the same day. Picking up the small of food, he made note that the other employee had been listening in on their conversation.
As he walked out, battling with her own mind the secretary would eventually call out. "I'll do my best!" Before Bass went through the double doors. Back under the beating South City sun, he wasn't necessarily keen on the idea of making the same trip twice. Checking his watch, it was around four thirty in the afternoon. On the bright side he could pick up more burritos to keep himself topped off on energy.
Since, while he theoretically didn't need to eat, with the amount of energy his body burned through it was a very helpful thing when it came to training and long days of work. He figured he'd at least stop there, then. Heading to the local Burrito shop, the Namekian would wait in line before coming up to the front. Having been long since acquainted with the people that worked there he'd just say 'the usual' and they'd get to work on his order.
Stepping to the side he'd get some zeni ready, paying at the register quietly as his dozen or so burritos were being made. That many was his usual amount, but if he was splurging he'd never really known how much food he could drill through. After all when he ate food was practically nigh instantly burned up from the amount of energy he used in a day, so if his body was recovering that food might disappear as fast as it went in. If he was perfectly fine and not doing much, he wasn't sure what his burrito limit was. Taking the very heavy back (for a normal Earthling) he'd lift up into the air and begin flying again.
Nothing quite lived up to the same standards of perfection as a nicely packaged and prepared burrito. The tinfoil kept the heat in wonderfully, meaning that even after many hours the food would still be fresh and delicious. Now flying over the South Island and into the sea nearby, he'd take the travel time as an opportunity to consider his next plans. He could either go confront the facility, or he could start combing through the other farms.
Putting the pieces together, he figured the best way to find out the truth was to be to give them a kibble; that's to say he'd give them a jumbo tomato and see what happens to it. If it goes to an open market or something that'd be fine, but he had a feeling those jumbo tomatoes wouldn't be leaving the facility they were processed in. If he was to think of a motive for why to do something such as this, his business minded self came up with a business minded problem. The production plant didn't have enough money to grow their own jumbo fruits, and so they piggy backed their ulterior motives on his farm instead. Creating a disease that would alter the jumbo crops, they waited for the perfect opportunity to turn them into the crops they wanted.
Then, as a processing plant Bass would be bringing the finished products right back to them. However now Bass had the knowledge of what was different. Did they want power by becoming giant? Or maybe they... No, that'd be ridiculous. Weaponizing giant tomatoes either physically or by using it to destabilize society? That was an ambitious goal to be sure. Musing over the possibilities, he came to the conclusion for the rest of the day his best move would be to look through the other crops. He was sure even now there were jumbo pests gorging on his jumbo produce, and he needed to put a stop to that once and for all.
[3402 words. 12335 Farming Words req'd.] [19542 running total]
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Post by Bass on Jun 29, 2021 19:26:39 GMT -8
Flying over the sea again, all of the same vistas presented themself to the Namekian. Experienced two times in the same day, the impact of the route didn't hit quite as hard as it did the first time. Though of course, he wasn't necessarily flying it for the purpose of sight-seeing and leisure this time. On the contrary, the Namekian soared through the skies at a rapid pace, and given his elevation above the water created a rift just below him that shot up waves on either side. Bass figured it was a good enough way to keep cool, tearing through the air until land came into view around a half hour later.
Lifting up into the sky to not wreak havoc on actual land, the Namekian sailed overhead while looking down towards the ground. He'd already done so much in one day that he was practically going on auto pilot, not looking where he was going or necessarily processing what he was seeing. That isn't to say he was entirely asleep, but he was so familiar with flying that he could do it while getting rest at this point- similar to taking a break or sitting down for a while.
The travel time was a good a time as any to theorize potential avenues he could financially pursue for The Momentum Corporation. At first his idea was just to have a different business in each area, but he'd started to warm up to the idea of providing Martial Artists with hyper nutritious food in all corners of the world. After all, even if it was in the center of the world, it was naive to expect all of them to be in a position to make the trip simply for a meal, as fantastic and unforgettable an experience it'd be. In an ideal world The Burrito Bass could become a franchise, opened up across the world, but that posed a lot of technical difficulties that he wasn't interested in stressing himself out with at the moment.
So instead his mind wandered to more contemporary and immediate things. He knew at some point in the year the World Martial Arts Tournament was going to be happening, specifically the one hundred and fifty first. He saw it potentially as an opportunity to gauge the progress he's made with his training, but on the contrary figured participating might genuinely be immoral given how strong he believed he was. Whether or not his thoughts had any validity were entirely different, but he was certain that he was making an unparalleled leap in progress from everything that was coming together. By the time the World Martial Arts Tournament swung around, he'd probably be on a completely different level. He needed to consider his responsibilities in that position, because if a ki signature is like a signal, if he doesn't suppress himself and shows off in the tournament, he could alert dangerous creatures far and wide of Earth.
Once he made the leap in strength, he'd presumably be forced to suppress himself at all points in time. Honestly, suppressing his energy had always felt strange and foreign- in fact he'd never even really understood how until he grasped the fact that he could endanger people if he didn't. It was... Considering he had no excrement Bass didn't really understand constipation, so choking or being bloated was a different analogy. Suppressing that much energy was just... It made him uncomfortable, like potentially wearing a winter jacket in the middle of South City's Summer.
Needless to say, in his attempts to understand his own thoughts he'd practically flown right over the farmland before realizing he'd arrived. Catching himself as he saw West City and not the farm, he'd do a full turn and start to head back. Interestingly enough when he did, he took note that the tomato he'd picked to bring to his research and development team had already started regrowing. It was the size of a normal tomato at this point, but even that tiny amount of development was incredibly significant given the short half hour round trip the Namekian had done.
Deciding to get right back to it, the Namekian began to sweep through the tomato plant farm again. It'd been a half hour, but that gave creatures an ample time to reorient themselves and emerge if they were in hiding. Sure enough he'd see a couple jumbo bugs of the beetle variety sucking on the roots of the plants, swiftly firing off a blast of ki energy to take them down. Yet despite the few critters that'd crawled up, for the most part the entire area seemed to be devoid of pests. Patting himself on the back for a job well done, Bass figured it was time to head over to the next farm.
The incipience of the Bell Pepper farm was upon the Namekian. Very similar to how tomatoes grew, the massive tough peppers dangled from stalks. Flying from one farm into the other, the atmosphere didn't change all that much. The massive jumbo peppers seemed to be all in order, but the tomato farm also looked fine at a glance. Checking his watch and noting it was around five o'clock, the Namekian started his route. The process was the exact same as the tomato farm, a systematic and targeted approach to leave no stone unturned. Even with such a cautious and well thought out way of handling the search however, just like in that tomato farm with so much space and the ground being a possible hiding place, it was inevitable that he'd have to do two laps to make sure everything was accounted for and cleared out.
For the first leg of the trip, the Namekian didn't counter all that much. He'd just about started to think that perhaps this farm didn't have the same mutation until he looked at the other side of a bell pepper plant and saw a grouping of exercise ball sized spider mites chewing away at the stalk to suck out all of the plant nutrients. Rubbing his temple out of frustration for the inevitable task that lay ahead of him, Bass raised his hands up and with three precise energy blasts evaporated the pests.
Checking the area to clear out several more that were pinned between large leaves or partly submerged in the ground, Bass returned to his flying. He wished at this point that he was educated in farms and everything that interacts with one, but the stark reality was that he was going in blind. If he did know what he was doing he'd know that wasps were often introduced to act as a predator to the species that damaged and destroyed the crops. Though Bass would find this out in a very different way. Hearing the buzzing from a distance, a wasp would round the corner of a plant and look towards him. It wasn't necessarily as nasty as the hornets were, but these were parasitic wasps. They reproduced by laying their eggs in other creatures. Despite not knowing this of course, Bass didn't really hesitate to put down the hostile bug. Knowing that these creatures do often congregate in hives however, he knew he had some future work cut out for him once he'd gotten to the center of the farm.
One could argue that the farmer introducing wasps to counteract pests was the best thing he could've done. While the pests grew larger, so to did the wasps from consuming them. These larger wasps were capable of controlling the pest population in the farm, making Bass's job easier and the farm survive to the point where he could arrive. He wasn't sure if things would be the same way if not for their inclusion. Despite it being only a little passed five in the evening, the Namekian felt himself growing a little more tired. He'd been going nonstop, flew to the Central lands twice and had been thinking at two hundred percent for the entire day. While he had no doubts he could keep going for a long time, endurance stamina and overall stamina were two different things. The mental and physical things combined over hours with hours to go still reminded him of his time in his old training chamber with the training AI he worked with.
In hindsight, that whole set-up was doomed to fail with how botched the construction of it was. He wasn't patient enough, and because of that he got a knock off coach AI literally called coach, and a bunch of... Well, he couldn't deny that the trials he had to overcome were genuinely difficult. Now that he thought about it, that whole thing almost bankrupt him at the time where he wasn't filthy rich. He appreciated the use he did get out of it however, it was essential to take him to heights he hadn't even imagined before.
Just like what the future held. Of course, before he could begin to delve into the ominous project that often took hold of his thoughts, something else made its presence known to him. With a sudden rumble of the ground, two tons of amphibian leaped up and plopped right onto the ground nearby. It seemed to be looking towards Bass, to which after staring at him a tongue snapped out at incredible speed. Twisting his body, his arm wrapped around the tongue and in turn it wrapped around his arm. Being yanked back towards the massive mouth of the creature, the Namekian spread his legs wide and connected with both sides of the creatures mouth.
Pulling his hand back- the free one, that was, he'd slam it forward into the top of the creatures jaw to cause its hold to drop and for it to go flying into the sky. It flew up and up and up, a trail of dribble cascading down as it was knocked out cold. The chance of the creature surviving the attack was small, but unfortunately Bass didn't want to take the chance. Bursting out of the plants after it, eventually among the clouds he came into contact with the reversing momentum of the frog. Its body carted without animation downwards, either unconscious or dead.
While the idea of jumbo produce was innocent, the repercussions of abusing a privilege like that were far and wide. It was certainly true that if left unchecked, this could become a serious problem. If the frog eats a bug it becomes larger, but what happens if a dinosaur at the frog? Thousands of lives at risk. That was why whatever happened in the farm needed to stay there, and while the mole got a second shot at purpose with testing in a lab, Bass couldn't spare anymore traveling and the laboratory couldn't spare anymore space for an elephant sized frog. Readying up a baseball sized chunk of ki and swinging it forward with his entire body, it pierced into the creatures body and detonated.
Nothing remained to be recovered.
After a moment in the sky, away from the mess of plants and giant bugs, he'd start to descend once again through the clouds. He started to wonder more about the people he'd met, and the people he'd meet. Most interestingly of all, his mind went back to when he would talk and hang out with Melody.
She'd always been the best friend he'd ever made, but he'd heard nothing from them for a while now. He'd even thought of visiting once or twice, but if they were busy, they were busy. Life has a way of changing, friends come and go. He remembered an interview with a promising candidate as well, he recalled their name eve. He remembered the day vividly, an opportunity for employment as his assistant. She had combat experience, professionalism and good etiquette. While he lacked some of those things some of the time, he liked to surround himself in people that were confident and capable at the jobs they did. Yuzu was their name, or at least that was the one that came to mind.
Kiryu. As the sheet of jumbo plants got closer into view, the Namekian cracked a smirk. For all the flak they gave each other, Bass even if he tried couldn't muster the words to lie and say he wasn't a fighter. Kiryu was one of the strongest people he'd ever known, and he supposed there was no fault in using what one excelled at to their advantage. He remembered hunting for the Tree of Might alongside him, fighting monsters in an ancient tomb. It felt like a good friendship as well.
He missed these people, missed them a lot.
Once person that was not so much a forlorn sense of loss but rather a curiosity in terms of feelings towards, was Cayle Pota. Son of Pota Potaset, Pota Pota. Just remembering the mile long introduction prompted a laugh from the Namekian. Then he broke through the canopy of the Bell Pepper plants and slammed into the ground. He once again hadn't really been paying attention.
Plucking himself out of the soil and dusting himself off, he'd do a three sixty around himself. Given the impressions in the ground nearby, he figured the area added up to be around the same spot the frog showed up at. That was good, it made the search easier to continue without leaving any gaps.
Monotonously the Namekian began to sweep. In fact, a large part of his endeavors were the same search - find - eliminate and repeat. Some things were tense, he encountered horrific spiders and swarmed of massive killer bees, but he was one of the most seasoned martial artists in the world, even if someone may not assume such a feature about a salaryman (which of course, he'd graduated from to CEO). The Bellpepper farm went much like the tomato farm, while the different bugs and pests differed between various crops, the core of nuisances and having to take them out did not.
As the hours passed, Bass cleared the variety of farms. Just about any vegetable put on a burrito was here, down to the ingredients needed to hand make jumbo tortillas. He cleared rows and rows of onions, bellpeppers, beanstalks. There were certainly scary jumbo creatures- like the bird that had been eating jumbo worms or the opportunistic fox that saw dog sized ants as prey. Each of them were interesting encounters in their own right, but not necessarily hurdles in the path to clearing the entire area.
However as the sun set in the sky and the farms were cleared of pests, that would change. At this point Bass was eating some of his leftover burritos in a compartment of his mecha nimbus, enjoying the added zest a couple hours brought to them, when he heard voices outside. From the sounds of it a group of adults talking about the plants.
"You guys ready?" One said, before another chimed in. "Yeah." A third person would follow in with, "You're sure about this? You know I think I saw a big creature in there. If the tomatoes have gotten that big..."
There was an off-handed wave. "Stop worrying so much."
That was about the time Bass peaked around the corner, and immediately these potential culprits didn't fit the description of the ominous figures the farmer had mentioned. They were a group of kids, one chubby, the other a beastkid and the third a lankier kid. Making sure they were as they appeared, another concern rose up in Bass's mind. Most ordinary Earthling's hadn't seen a jumbo crop let alone known about it or worked with it. The curiosity might cause people to endanger themselves.
Would private property signs or trespassing signs make a difference? To some it definitely would, but the most curious and especially most foolhardy (kids) would still take the risk. The danger of the risk they took began to manifest however. Wherever it had been hiding in the day, at night the spawn of death manifested. The shrill buzz of a mosquito, but a mosquito of massive proportions. He hadn't considered that, but certainly mosquitos would feed off of bugs and creatures if they were as big or bigger than animals. The problem was with no food source, one followed by dozens were flying outwards and mainly towards the kids.
Coming out of hiding, Bass started to rapid fire ki blasts into the sky. Bursts of energy sent bug guts flying everywhere around the area as the kids screamed in fear and started to run for their lives (rightfully so). However this nocturnal problem needed to be nipped in the bud as well. Chasing after the mosquitos that had gone in other directions using their ki signatures, he'd fire blast after blast until there was nothing left to sense. With that supposed final hurdle for farm pests solved, the Namekian would breathe a sigh of relief high up in the night sky above the farm.
Looking over towards the farmstead with the porchlight on, the single light felt warm. When he glanced the other way he would see the lights of West City, and it was just then that he felt homesick. He really, really wanted to be lying in a familiar bed in his apartment, talking to his roommate about the next days plans and what movies to watch. The simple things always hurt the most when they weren't there, a way of pacifying a stressed mind.
Maybe his problems went deeper, all the way back to his origins from Piccolo Daimao. He thought he'd done a good job in starkly ejecting himself from that life, but maybe that was just from his conscious thoughts. He admitted to himself that the stress he felt towards Piccolo Daimao was on another level compared to other problems like Giant Sharks and ancient mummy monsters, and maybe it warranted it, but Bass couldn't appropriately rationalize the amount of headache the old piece of snot gave him.
The thing that stressed the Namekian out the most perhaps wasn't the fact that King Piccolo existed, but rather that comparing his experience there with the silence from him meant something big was eventually going to happen. He didn't know when, and while he was still preparing he might've... He might've been worried he'd done too little over too long a period of time. If he's not enough, he'd never forgive himself. Breaking out of his stupor as the beautiful night view had entranced him, Bass flew back down across the farm and to his little machine. It was a big thing, big enough to have compartments and sleeping space. Bundled up in a capsule hotel sized space in a sleeping bag, a dim nightlight shone down upon him as he started to drift off.
Yet he couldn't entire pass out like that. It was important that he figured out what he was going to do in the morning. With the farm now cleared of pests, his plan was to start taking produce there but instead of continuing to do so, watching what happened with the crops. His hunch as he mulled over before was that the tomatoes would never leave the facility, and that they were being used for someones ulterior motive at the location.
As for how he'd confront them? He wasn't sure if it was someones great idea or the whole place was in on it. Either way, he had no other choice than to try and make contact with whoever led the operation. Depending on what happened, either the foreman would be on his side if an employee had insane ulterior motives, or he'd start to squirm as he realized he was under the lens right when his plan had a chance of coming to fruition. That was about as far as the Namekian could think about regarding the next morning.
Reaching up he'd tap the side of the machine twice, prompting the nightlight to dim to practically being off. Rolling onto his side, he let out a tired yawn and rested his head on the packed pillow he'd always had packed with the Nameklann. As he faded off into his dreams, possibilities of the future raced through his mind. Tragedy, happiness, success, failure, defeat and victory. He knew the life of a Martial Artist was one of turmoil, but he did not want innocent people to be caught in the crossfire. He wanted to be strong enough to where they can't be used as bargaining chips, but...
And then his dreams encompassed him.
[3432 words. 8903 Farming Words req'd.] [22974 running total]
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Post by Bass on Jun 30, 2021 21:43:31 GMT -8
It wasn't the best set of dreams he'd ever had. Waking up suddenly as he sat up quickly, the Namekian stopped short of hitting his head against the sealing of the small space. Realizing that he was awake again, he'd drop back to lay down whilst raising his forearm to lay it over his forehead. Closing his eyes, he'd recover from what seemed to be some kind of nightmare. As for the particulates of the nightmare, Bass wasn't perfect. He like many others had personal flaws that manifest within himself, and it was a blessing that he was self aware to the point of being able to understand the source of nightmares like the one he'd had.
Needless to say he didn't need too much motivation to make his way out of the compartment to flop out onto the grass below. Fetching his shirt as he moved around the back of the Nameklann, he'd button it up and begin to tie his signature tie. Normally he'd use the facilities and clean himself up for the day but...
Thirty minutes later, it turned out he couldn't help it. Instead of bothering the humble family in the farmhouse he'd instead opted to fly to an location in West City that offered public showers. Cleaning himself up so he didn't feel gross, he'd eventually leave the building whilst walking onto a West City sidewalk. Looking up and around him, being on the ground level made the city feel a lot bigger than it actually was. Though he unfortunately didn't have too much time to soak in the sights, it was time to get to business with the final leg of getting this problem fixed once and for all.
Flying back to the farm, his first step would be to grab two of the Jumbo tomatoes. Making sure to do a preliminary sweep for any potentially developing pests, once that was out of the way he'd swiftly tug two different tomatoes from their respective leaves to carry by their tops. Looking around to make sure everything looked okay, he'd then take off and begin flying towards the processing plant. Just like he rehearsed in his mind, he'd need to give these over and see what game they play. There was the hypothetical possibility that his theories had been entirely off the bend and that the evidence had been misleading, but he had a hunch this was the case. Still, learning from the Bassic Security Bureau, hunches didn't win battles when it came to the legal systems Earthlings used. It was so extensive that he'd had to learn it in bits and pieces as it was relevant, starting with corporate legal obligations.
The tomatoes were surprisingly heavy. He'd had to move one around earlier, but with the limited amount of time he'd been lifting it he hadn't even noticed. Now carrying two, while not really straining it was a noticeable drag on his limbs. Nevertheless it didn't change the fact that he was steadily starting to fly towards the plant. Should his message have gone through the previous day, they should be ready for him to arrive at their loading bay. Seeing West City's skyline on the horizon, the Namekian veered to the East a little further until he locked his eyes on the plant- the processing plant, not the jumbo tomatoes he was carrying.
Closing in on the place, he debated how best he'd be able to monitor the situation. Ideally he'd have some kind of vantage point to see what was happening, but that could risk him being spotted. Every fiber of his being wanted to just punch the problems away, but he knew for a sustainable future for The Momentum Corporation he'd need to get evidence and support it to the local West City Police Department. If the plant had a quiet place inside of it- as in one that had no ki signatures around it, Bass could likely get in by using a Instant Transmission on a much smaller scale. If he could infiltrate the place without any detection, he'd be able to figure out what happened right there among them.
Closing in on the large garage, he'd touch down and place the two large jumbo tomatoes to either side of him. Waiting a moment as he looked about, the large shutters would start to draw open as a team of workers came out to meet the Namekian. Shocked at the physical feats of bringing these here manually, Bass called out towards them.
"If you can grab these, I'll be making trips all through the day!" He'd call, before they got closer and started to in two teams, roll the jumbo crops down the decline. At the bottom it seemed like they could be loaded onto a convenient conveyor belt that went to begin processing the crops- or at least what was supposed to do so. Trotting back after the tomatoes had been loaded in, an employee would show up with a clipboard and a sheet of paper.
"Hey uh, Bass. The boss has a waiver here he wants you to sign. We're running the crops through a new set-up that should be better than our old one. It makes no difference he said, just a technicality." He'd say, scratching the back of his head.
"Though between you and me it's kinda weird that we just send the stuff into a place we can't see. I've been trying to think of the logic, maybe he just wants the factory to look cleaner or something since it's a food processing plant. Anyways just sign there and we'll get right to work."
Tucking out a pen from his chest pocket, he'd scribble down his name and let out another yawn. Already despite his rather casual unassuming response, he'd certainly found his suspect. The gradeschool tier deduction told the Black Heart Namekian that this wasn't likely a site wide operation. Out of his options, it was the better scenario. The location being secluded would also make monitoring the processing easier. He'd speak.
"Sure, whatever. I should be around about every fifteen minutes or so."
And with that, the Namekian took off. Yet once out of sight he'd circle around and appear in the blocked off section of the facility. It wasn't too difficult to narrow down the miniscule ki signatures of the first jumbo tomato going in and away from all of the employees. Appearing behind it, he'd dart with rapid speed and go up into one of the rooms corners. What he saw would be something for the stories to tell, but for now his actions would craft its' chapters. -------
The 'secret' part of the processing plant seemed to be guarded by a variety of highest tech apparatus. An extremely tight gap allowed just enough space for the Jumbo crops to come through when they needed to, but it gave no chance for an employee to get in otherwise. Leading through the main factory into this new bay, the premise of a processing plant completely fell apart. The Namekian looked as scientific equipment and gear lined the floor, and the crops simply ended in a little container that rolled them down into a series of ten different vats. Bubbling with chemicals, the Black Heart Namekian carefully followed the tomatoes as they were shoved into these vats. As they rested inside, a moment would pass before an individual wearing a lab coat with a cybernetic arm would walk out of a nearby wall. Approaching the containers, the individual looked them over and flicked the glass, turning around to move over to a terminal that displayed a variety of diagnostics. If it was anything even remotely similar to the tech his Research Teams had access to, he imagined this scientist or... Narrowing his eyes... Tuffle was potentially confirming that the jumbo crops had turned out correctly. There were an incredibly amount of variables that could surface in the plan, and Bass was smart enough to understand that a scientist would have to change their approach if that was the case.
Though it seemed as if whatever they'd seen excited them, as a smile came across their expression. Dialing a few buttons on a phone installed on the wall nearby, he'd give a call and ask someone to come into the area. After a few minutes passed the head honcho of the place would've shown up. He remembered this guy now that he saw him again, the head of the plant. It seemed he was cooperating or working in tandem with Tuffle researchers, for what purpose he just... He had his guesses, but nothing definitive.
Regardless, his testimony would only do so much when faced with having to tip these people over to the law. Looking around the room he'd spot a couple of security cameras that looked down on the room to monitor it, cameras that thankfully didn't appear to have been installed with the idea of monitoring the ceiling in mind. Bass figured if he could figure out where the footage was sent to and saved, he could make sure the people here didn't have time to destroy it so that their own footage could be used as evidence against them.
Still, if that really was a Tuffle... While they weren't a big deal to Bass, he wondered how the police would fare against them. He had absolutely no idea how capable this one might've been or... The three that'd just walked out of the same little area. He'd already dealt with a Jumbo Ant nest, and for some reason this felt remarkably similar to that. A bunch of creatures living underground in a secluded hive, and if he disturbed it they'd all go flooding out in every direction. It made the Namekian sick to his stomach, because to his knowledge the Tuffles put them in that position, it wasn't fate that landed them in their predicament. Many- enough to speak for their entire species were twisted and concerned only with scientific progress with total disregard to morality.
Bass flew across the ceiling of the room, scanning the room for where he'd be able to find some kind of side room with the security footage. Yet based on how valuable and secretive this place was, he knew on some level that the answer he sought was located in the underground bunker beneath the floor that the four Tuffles had come out from. If he could slip by them or even just teleport, there was a chance he could get inside without any complications. That would of course forfeit any advantage he had from flying around the ceiling, but he'd come to the conclusion that he'd eventually be found out with the things he'd needed to do. If there was a fully functioning Tuffle Bunker under the process plant, he needed to handle it himself. The Police even if they could handle it would seriously be at risk- and likely lose men.
Moving overtop of the false floor that'd lifted up a couple of times now as Tuffles went in and out, Bass's eyes trailed to a seemingly unimpressive piece of the wall. What he was actually seeing- or rather feeling was a ki signature inside. Rolling his shoulders, the Namekian disappeared and reappeared next to the signature. In the moment he had a fraction of a second to eye down the figure. An individual in a lab coat. They looked like another Tuffle, so without even the slightest hesitation Bass went to poke their forehead. As his finger connected however, the Tuffle's power level started to rise, and they didn't move- not according to plan.
Having also taken note of him, a smirk overcame the Tuffles features as he pulled off his labcoat to reveal a massive amount of cybernetic augmentations. He would speak up a cocky quip.
"I don't know who you are, but you just made your last mistake in trying to come here." Getting ready to punch him, the figure pulled his hand back before sending it flying forward.
The Namekian was more curious than anything, and as the first connected with his body Bass remained motionless. Rubbing the back of his neck, he muttered out.
"Is everyone here like you? Hmm... Well, let's try a flick." He'd say, leveling a hand in front of the Tuffles head before extending his index finger sharply. With that escalation of power, the individual went flying back all the way down the hallway leading to the ground entrance to the secret part of the plant. Smashing into the far wall, cybernetics were on the fritz, teeth were knocked out and well... So were they. Bass debated if that was excessive force, but it was a fact that he'd been found out at this point. He'd need to move fast if he wanted to secure that footage.
Moving at his full speed, the laboratory would suddenly become a whirlwind of flying papers and wind as he tore around corners and sent Tuffles flying left and right. He tried his best to be polite with his attacks, only applying enough force to cause them to fall over unconscious. His perception was able to keep up with the speed he displayed, eyes darting left and right around every corner to find something that could be interpreted as a monitoring room. Left, right, right again, left, straight for a second and then left brought him to a hallway that appeared to have a single opaque door on the wall with a 'Surveillance' label slapped right next to it. Trying to open the door it appeared locks, to which Bass's eyes trailed over and made note of the keypad to the opposite side of the label. There was a moment of consideration before a fist shaped indent threw the door off its hinges, causing it to topple over and reveal the room.
There was a wall of screens, each showing different parts of the plant or laboratory. There were even cameras connected from the main plant, the Namekian being able to watch workers chat on their breaks- a massive invasion of privacy. Nevertheless more importantly was the Tuffle slamming away at the keys, before their fist would ball up and they'd slam it down on a red button on their side. Immediately the Namekian winced as a siren started to blare. Moving forward he'd grab the Tuffle's scruff, their cybernetics whirring and swinging around as they tried to do something- anything to get out of his hold. Desperately trying to reach the keys, not having enough time to delete all of the footage, he would be swiftly sent to dreamland as a finger flicked the side of his head to send him careening into the left wall. A man shaped impression would appear on the hallway wall opposite of the surveillance room.
Conveniently- and perhaps not so conveniently was a phone on the wall. It was off the receiver, a cord trailing over to where it plugged into a phone on the desk in front of all of the terminals. He had difficulty making out the minor sounds and shouting through the siren, but it was apparent enough that the entire facility was alerted. With access to the cameras, Bass could see Tuffles everywhere moving into armories and equipping themselves with Tuffle tech. As he watched, he came to the saddening conclusion that these things were just leeches. They lived under hardworking people and used them for their own gain. It made his shoulders drop a bit knowing there was an invisible energy siphoning the world of all of its grandeur at play- because there was no doubt in the Black Heart Namekian's mind that things like this happened across Earth.
Moving over the phone he'd bring it up to his ear, but it was already dead. As his eyes trailed to the secret side of the processing plant displayed on the cameras, he could see it on the receiver. He could also see the Tuffles that were in there frantically preparing something. Their plans expedited, whatever they'd done had started to seriously make things strange. One of the Tuffles was on the ground writhing in what he assumed was pain. As he narrowed his eyes to make sense of the situation, he noted that they'd started eating one of the jumbo tomatoes that they'd released from the vat. More than that, whatever they knew had caused them to specifically go for the... Brain, in these machines.
Neverless, aside from the fact that the other jumbo tomato now had massive eyes, legs and arms and was flailing in one of the vats, nothing else could go wrong... Right? Wait- Bass stood dumbstruck by the tomato. Shaking his head he'd spring into action and slam the phone into the receiver before pulling it back out and punching the Police Departments number. Getting on the line his voice would raise.
"Hello? Hello!? There's a terrorist attack happening on..." In all the chaos, he thanked himself for the notes he took. Flipping out the piece of paper indicating the address he'd been given, he'd read it out to them.
"Please come as soon as you can, people are in danger!" Even if they thought it was a hoax, he knew it was mandatory that the police not assume anything or ignore it entirely. Yet sometimes things bent the rules, and if he started going on about Tuffles and a sentient tomato they might almost certainly just write him up a bill for wasting their time.
Hanging up the phone, the sirens would break as a voice called out.
"Warning, Warning, Intrusion Detected. All agents, report to command. Warning, Warning, Intrusion Detected. All agents, report to command." While still obnoxious, the voice was slightly less maddening than the shrill sequential whirring of the prior sirens. Now with direction, the Tuffles Bass could see on the cameras immediately started to change what they were doing. As if a hive mind, they efficiently listened to the instruction and began to hurriedly move somewhere for further briefing over the situation. Without access to the cameras he wasn't sure how much they knew- scientific instruments for gathering data often went over Bass's head.
"Ugh... They're so annoying..." He uttered, before looking towards the collapsed door. He'd need to make sure no other Tuffles could get into the room and wipe the data, but then a more pressing priority crossed his mind. If this was but a surveillance room, something of a 'command room' felt like it might also have the ability to completely wipe records. In fact, he figured it might just be able to self destruct the entire facility. However the repeating message would then change.
"Operation Jumbo has commenced... Operation Jumbo has commenced... All agents to their stations... All agents to their stations..." At that the Namekian just chose to slam the door through one of the walls, and bend the metal to slam it into the other wall so it acted as a barricade horizontally across the doorway. This while he seemed to have the upper hand, felt like he was constantly losing ground. Was this why Tuffles still persisted? Efficiency and unwavering focus even under extreme pressure? Now less cautious when it came to preserving the facility that he moved through, the Namekian picked up the pace to double his speed. A torrent ripped apart walls behind him and bent metal, his feet created impressions and when he turned anything he'd stopped his momentum in front of would buckle and cave in.
The Tuffles he came across didn't even have time to understand something had happened before they were unconscious and dented into two different walls. Ripping through hallways and corridors while checking through every possible route he could, Bass eventually found what looked to be a command center. Yet when he slammed through the automated doors (going fast enough that he hit it before they slid open) he'd see the entire room was empty.
He needed to turn up the intensity even further. Despite the ease of the process so far, he had a terrible feeling in his gut. That every second he spent was another advantage the Tuffles gained. They could disperse, start new labs, make new technologies based off their observations here. He couldn't afford to restrain himself for the sake of preserving the facility or some of the threats in it.
Walls buckled, blasting apart into shreds of metal as his movements were so powerful they broke through to natural subterranean rock. Entire laboratories and their contents shattered as he passed by. Dozens of Tuffles were found and sent flying through walls as Bass tried his best to nip the problem in the bud before they won. Corner after corner, segment after segment it wouldn't be until he was moving too fast to turn enough that he'd slam into a wall with all of his momentum. A boom echoed outwards as the wall and the subterranean rock after it were gone, causing the ground above to collapse inwards.
Staggering out of it, he'd notice that not perfectly there, but some distance in the blast he'd cause had intersected with a path that didn't seem to have ornate laboratory walls. Moving inside and checking downwards, he'd see at the opposite end a lab door, and at the closer end that presumably connected to this part, another. It seemed to connect to an otherwise normal wall, meaning it wasn't meant to be found by outside forces. Dashing towards the far door he'd slam through it, stumbling into a room as the two automated halves of the laboratory door hurtled forward and bounced several times before coming to a stop. Looking in the room, it immediately became apparent where most of the Tuffles went.
The room was otherwise consistent of rock flooring and walls, but was packed with scientific equipment. Vats, terminals, beakers- the standard stuff and more. However furthermore, the room seemed to have a side room where pods could be seen- but he couldn't make it entirely out at this point. As the Tuffles turned to look towards him, he noticed many of them were holding glasses filled with a clear red liquid. At first he thought of some kind of blood seeing as all of the horrible things he'd heard of Tuffles, but then his mind came around to the truth.
Jumbo tomato juice. In the time he'd been searching the vat in the plant must've been connected to a transport system, as he could now see the very alive and animated tomato being... Being squeezed. Its eyes and body were pressed against the glass, it looked miserable. Calling out was a Tuffle.
"For science, some of you will fall today. Sacrifice yourselves so that our people may reach the greatest of heights." And then they started- at least many of them, chugging the tomato juice. Their bodies started to contort, twist, their cybernetics failing and snapping off for the ones that had them as their bodies grew and became stronger. The rest seemed to be retreating into the room with pods, which then occurred to Bass to be escape pods. Trying to race towards them, a large hand slammed into Bass's side and sent him hurdling into a nearby wall. In a deep impression of rock, the Namekian in an almost loose sitting position would start to peal himself out as pebbles and debris fell around him. Looking forward, the tuffles that drank the jumbo tomato juice hadn't only grown, given the cybernetics and whatnot they looked outright monstrous. Whatever quick scientific stuff the Tuffles had done to this now alive jumbo tomato, the consumed product seemed to be even more unstable. Perhaps it was part of the plan, but Bass was more keen to believe that it was a result of them being discovered before they had a chance to do things in a cautious and controlled manner.
Nevertheless, the hulking beasts charged forward- having become the experiments they sought to conduct on other innocent people. Slamming limbs towards the Namekian, now aware of their capabilities they still were simply outmatched. With no need to preserve their otherwise ruined minds and bodies, Bass could use all of his power. Pulling back just a single fist into a closed fist, steam escaped the Namekian's mouth as ki so potent manifested as a fog as he channeled it into his fist.
"It's just business.
Nothing personal."
And then the fist slammed forward. When it connected with the first fleshy monstrosity, that creature was just... Where there was once mass and matter, there was nothing. No noticeable remains of any kind whatsoever. A fine dust almost unnoticeable to the naked eye seemed to trickle to the ground. Beyond the first however, the pure shockwave from the punch was enough to slam every single one of them into the far wall. Some of the ones closer to the original hit had been reduced to a mist, but for the most part the back wall would just buckle and cave from the force before collapsing on the likely deceased beasts. Turning quickly to the escape pods, he could see them activating as lights started going towards towards a jet at their base, a Tuffle in eat.
Bursting into a sprint, he'd start tearing out entry panels with Tuffles in tow, throwing them against the wall behind him. Going through one, two, four, eight, eventually getting towards the last two their ignitions would fire and they'd begin leaving. With a burst of speed the Namekian would grab onto the side panels, his legs slamming into the launch bay as he physically held the jet thrusters back from propelling the escape pod out into the sky.
"You'll have to pay for what you've done, tax's to."
He'd then begin pulling the pods back, their thrusters beginning to fail as they burned through fuel that was supposed to be getting used in the middle of the sky at this point. They'd sputter, before eventually going out as the machines thudded against the ramp. Staggering back a few feet, Bass would huff before ripping both occupants out of the pods and throwing them into their own personal impressions on the wall as well.
Standing there after that in the silence, his chest would huff up and down. Going all out through the facility, a lot of tiny things began to add up. However he just needed to catch his breath, not really exhausted actually. Once he recomposed himself and adjusted his tie again, he'd burst back and begin making his way back to the camera room. Seeing as it was still intact and without tampering, he'd narrow his eyes towards the camera that showed the factory owner and four Tuffles. The vat with the live jumbo tomato was empty, and the other one appeared to be scattered around the ground in tatters. All of the individuals once present there were no longer present.
Backing out of the room, he'd lock onto a group of abnormally high ki signatures. There were four of them, lining up with the amount of Tuffles that were unaccounted for. His main concern was that they seemed to be in the main factory- something that spelled concern for the workers that remained there.
[4553 words in progress. 4350 Farming Words req'd.] [27527 running total]
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Post by Bass on Jul 2, 2021 12:02:55 GMT -8
This was the final hurdle to overcome. He'd prevented them from escaping the facility, but out of desperation that'd caused the Tuffles that had their path to the escape bay blocked to take drastic actions to try and salvage what they could. Unfortunately for their plight, there was no longer much to recover that the Namekian didn't explicitly want recovered, but they didn't have the means to know that. Kicking off into another burst of speed, Bass recalled the original path between the entrance to the secret part of the processing plant and the surveillance room he'd just left. Taking record time considering he knew the route now, he'd without a care for the nuanced mechanisms that needed to be bypassed to open the door manually, punched a hole through it before peeling the sheet of metal up and away.
He needed to be careful about how he approached the situation. In the surveillance room he hadn't seen them given their deliberate decision to avoid being on cameras. After all, the Tuffles were away of the coverage their cameras did and didn't have, and could exploit that fact.
The thought of where the head of this operation was at came to the Namekians mind, that was of course until he heard a voice shouting in the other room.
"Put them down! They're my precious employees!" Bass thanked himself for making sure to have physical evidence of his involvement, as it appeared he had switched sides to distance himself from the operation entirely. Moving towards the door he'd come into the secret side of the plant, Bass would awkwardly start to push it open despite their being locking mechanisms in place. The door groaned, locks bent and hinges snapped until the whole whopping hunk of seamless metal on the wall leaned forward and slammed into the ground. If he was trying to be subtle in his entrance, he'd failed miserably.
All eyes were on him as shocked factory workers learned there had been a secret door and the culprits and foremen were simply shocked at the audacity of his entrance. The culprits in question had clearly been effected by the jumbo tomatoes, having grown to at least four times their height, massive in the facility and holding two different workers in each of their hands. One of them shouted out towards Bass, their much larger voice making the Namekian wince slightly in annoyance.
"We have hostages, if you try anything they're dead!" One said, and each moved the hostages to use them as shields in between them and the Namekian. Another one followed up.
"You ruined everything, didn't you? We were so close, with the power of the MJC's we were going to ascend to a higher plane of existence! The fact that you're here means they didn't stop you... Damn idiots..." A third one followed up.
"Might need to puree some of 'em after this boss..." An utterance directed towards the forth Tuffle, who seemed to be equipped with cybernetic augmentations that'd actually grown alongside him. Clearly his tech was prioritized for this whole plot they'd cooked up, Bass admitted that the hulking metallic arms looked interesting, that was for certain.
The Namekian however, just extended a finger upwards as if to gesture for them to wait a second, before he'd begin speaking.
"I need you to carefully ask yourself who has the advantage right now." The sentence seemed lost on the Tuffles, before one of them acted out of turn as their eyes widened from the audacity of his statement.
"You absolute moron!? We're the ones with the hostage, because of your idiocy let me prove to you the consequences of stepping out of line!" He'd start to try to apply pressure- but he was already mid-air two kilometers out of West City. In his place was Bass, holding the two once hostages in his hands. He would carefully set them down, allowing the two workers to scamper to safety and watch from a more comfortable distance. The Black Heart Namekian could hear sirens in the distance, turning to look towards the other three.
They were... Paralyzed in horror, even their leader. After all not all Tuffles represented the Tuffle race as a whole, and this small private operation wasn't nearly indicative of the full potential of Tuffles. Bass was excessive firepower for dealing with them, but he just happened to be the one they unknowingly crossed. Seeing this, Bass simply flew over and pried their fingers away from the hostages, escorting them to safety where they to could make some distance between the danger and themselves.
Finally coming to their senses, the Tuffles body language spoke of resounding defeat. Their shoulders sagged, and their mumbling and such were comprised of cussing out the Namekian in Tuffle slang while letting out their grievances with their leader. Bass took that as opportunity enough to lay out the future for the three Tuffles.
"I don't know how much progress my team's made, but chances are we'll be able to reverse your... Problematic transformation. After all, in the hands of the law you won't be able to fit in a cell like that. Otherwise this should all start resolving itself. You really made things annoying getting big on me, now I have to stick around and keep watch until the police figure out a way to restrain you."
At around that point, a wave of officers burst through the factory door and started waving their handguns around. Shouting for everyone to freeze and put their hands up, just about every normal factory worker did so and pulled away from the very glaring threat in the room. Quickly, all weapons had moved over to the giants, which naturally intimidated all of the officers.
"Y-you p-put your hands up and surrender!" At first they didn't comply, it took a glare from Bass to make them do so. As they did, the Namekian would raise his hands as well and begin lowering down to the ground where his feet gently touched the floor. He'd raise his voice to address the officers.
"I'm the one who made the call around three minutes ago. I'm Bass, CEO of The Momentum Corporation based out of South City." All the Namekian could really do was comply, it was going to be awkward until the police could feel like they had the situation controlled. Seeing a flying man- which they did identify as a Martial Artist given how many had graced the Earth with their presence in the past, but more importantly three giants (as the forth was likely landing right about now).
"Y-you three tall ones, get on your knees! You're u-under arrest!" They talked about rights and legality, before radioing to dispatch to try and find an answer as to how to restrain the larger criminals. Nodding several times after long pauses, it became apparent that the dispatcher may have had some kind of answer.
What ensued was a long period of silence. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes as the lot of them stood there and waited for the answer to this problem to show up. Eventually the sound of an approaching patrol car would arrive, and one arriving officer would hand over a capsule tray to one of the on scene police officers. Testing it out, a massive set of handcuffs would slam into the ground, prompting him to jump down and exclaim in shock at it. Though mostly used to capsule technology, he'd return it to the pill form and take the entire tray after popping the one he'd tried out back in.
With that out of the way, the handcuffs were used. Bass, and the three giant Tuffles were handcuffed. In addition, police officers combed through the entirety of the underground Tuffle bunker to apprehend all of the different Tuffles there. What ensued was a dialogue that lasted several hours between Bass and an interrogator. However from all of the different things going on, it didn't take long for the Police Department to put together the story and sort out who was at fault and what was happening. Bass's testimony and the footage on file at the Tuffle bunker incriminated the foreman of the facility, who was subsequently brought into custody and eventually given a sentence - but that would come at a later time. For the moment he was in the hands of Earth's judicial system, and that would play out in the hands of Earthlings.
Bass on the other hand, was free to go after around five hours. The reason for the quick turnaround was the Namekian mentioning the fourth Tuffle, to which as soon as he'd got out he'd retrieve via their bloated ki signature. They'd been trying to make as much distance as possible after waking up from dreamland, but unfortunately Bass had the means to cover a lot more distance than he did. Grabbing him by the collar, he was flown all the way back to the police department where he'd be handcuffed with the Capsule Cuffs and escorted into a special interrogation chamber like the rest.
In the aftermath of the processing plant scandal, the entire plant would be shut down for a couple of days. Bass would be on the phone regularly with his own company, coordinating additional research efforts to reverse jumbofication in the event that future cases arose, and to assist the West City Police Department with their convicted Tuffles. Those days added with the day he originally had assigned the Bassic Biology team to work on the reverse engineering of the mutated jumbo crop strain meant he was provided the viral compound that'd 'infect' and in doing so revert the genetics of the jumbo crops to their previous state. It was a convenient solution, but science has a way of making molehills out of mountains once it gets on top of things.
All it took was for Bass to pick it up and bring it back and inject the serum into the different farms for it to take effect on the plants within. Of course before doing so, they tested their compound on the tomato sample they had been preserving and found that it successfully reversed the adverse mutations that'd developed in the crops. Confirming the result was the same in the actual farm, things had started to look a lot brighter for the jumbo farm and all of the businesses associated with it.
While the farm was returning to a form without mutations, Bass came to the conclusions that Martial Artists for security was only necessary if the jumbo growth mutation still transferred over to any pests. The only jumbo creature that existed anymore were the worms, and through the dead plant matter and soil with the serum in it that they ingested, they too would lose the ability to spread the mutation if anything were to try and eat them- to which most creatures simply weren't capable. It helped that the jumbo farm now had jumbo fertilizers, something that earthworms were fantastic for. So while Martial Artists might still be called in if any other future problems arise in the farm (bandits, etc), the Momentum Corporation inadvertently relieved themselves of that responsibility. Jumbo Tomatoes bloomed brighter than ever, onions grew massive and tall, bell peppers hung from their branches ready for harvesting.
To which the best news of all finally came in. The machinery required to work on the farm had been complete. Making some calls and expediting the process, Bass was able to personally transport the equipment overseas in a series of painful and uncomfortable trips. While it was a little unpleasant, it allowed them to begin the operations to a small degree on the very same day. The reason they could do so was because of the news they got from their processing plant partners.
It was a big grounds for uncertainty, a piece of the puzzle that wasn't actually in Bass's control. Given the worry around it, Bass was relieved when the call came in and the company announced they'd gotten a new foreman who'd actually been a previous employee. The 'secret' expansion to the factory was also being torn down and rebuild to genuinely be what it was sold to be, a more efficient and effective method of processing jumbo crops. Yet for the moment the old and true method worked more than fine, and three days after the incident the factory was back to its old operations again.
With the machinery going, the mutations gone, and the factory back to standard operations Bass could finally start to rest easy. In between bringing more equipment over and hiring locals to operate it, Bass helped the load of picking the entire farm by doing a lot of it himself as he'd promised. After all, until all of the machinery was fully up and operational it was a lot to undertake and unsustainable. Over the course of a day with the machinery and his combined efforts, the farm would be fully harvested and transported to the factory.
From the factory itself, their process jumbo crops and ingredients weren't ready to go into the Burrito Bass yet- after all while the property had been purchased nothing existed there at that point in time. So instead, talked over in advance the ingredients were packaged and solds freshly in bulk to the open market for West City food joints to take advantage of. It was simply the Namekian's way of thanking West City for their welcome, as when the Tuffle infiltration and rotten eggs were overlooked, the factory workers loved him and they seemed like great hardworking people.
Using the sales to bolster their future endeavors and finance the machinery and workers used, the days would only become more and more efficient. More workers, more machines. Unlike conventional plants, Jumbo crops didn't follow the normal rules of farming. These had a tendency to grow fairly quickly, meaning at a sustainable rate once the last crop was picked, the first would've regrown and been ready for harvesting. Given the rather temperate climate of the Central Lands, there was a single additional problem that would need to be accounted for.
That was the changing of the seasons. As it got colder, sure jumbo crops were hardy, but coated in snow the Namekian felt they wouldn't last forever. To that end, no longer necessarily rushed for time he'd coordinate with his company executives and begin devising a solution to keep growth strong over the Winter. The most effective solution was a project that would take some time to build, but it had absolutely no overlap with current operations.
A specialized greenhouse. It'd amplify the growth of the jumbo crops inside as well, which was a huge plus when it came to production and sustainability. In the Winter when snow fell, the slant of the greenhouse added with a coating applied each fall would cause any snowfall to slide right on off. Inside the greenhouse there'd be heaters in the winter. The only thing was the sheer scale of the project, but thankfully it wasn't a problem for the current day, the next, and it wasn't something Bass had to personally add his contributions to.
All of that led to the final chapter in the book of Bass and the Jumbo Farm. He said his goodbyes to the farmer and his family, having gotten much more acquainted with them over the days that'd transpired, they deserved a farewell and a thanking for all of their hard work. For the most part their job was now to oversee the growth and harvesting of the jumbo crops, so life for the most part just got a lot easier compared to having to initially plant a ton of seeds.
Now however, Bass sat in a meeting room surrounded by his executives. It wasn't even an office, but rather an oval table at one of the highest levels of The Momentum Tower, a project that'd been in the works for months now and was finally able to be fully used. He looked around the people gathered, people who'd come from being managers of various places now executives at his headquarters. They were responsible for day to day business direction, and so while the initial issue that brought Bass to the farm was on his back, there were a lot of lessons he needed to share with the people at this table about foresight. After all, while all of them were wonderful people, they were far from perfect.
The meeting was taking place about a week after Bass had first arrived at the farm.
"Good morning everyone. Hopefully you all had a good sleep, because I'm going to be demanding your fully attention. This past week I've made a lot of calls, and I've had to pave over a lot of mistakes we as a company have made in preparations for expansion. Our first food based location was in jeopardy for a variety of reasons, part of which was on me, and for that I take full and complete responsibility. However the majority of the subsequent problems I discovered while there were issues that were inevitable, and would've effected or outright crippled production when the machines arrives, not designed properly to handle what they were harvesting.
While researchers research, farmers farm, yadda yadda, everyone here as executives is responsible for their actions. While they are all fantastic thinkers and should always be listened to as they have practical experience in their respective fields, it's negligent not to due your proper research and to just arbitrarily ask they make a machine for carrying big crops. That doesn't solve the problem in its entirety. Thankfully given my recognition of our imminent collision course we've averted a financial crisis that could threaten this company for millions of zeni, and contrary to what you might think I'm not really mad about that. I make an effort to keep enough in the bank to handle hits like that, as the worst thing to assume is that your business is invinsible.
What I am however, is fervently devote to the idea that you're all capable of so much more. I selected each and every one of you because you shined in the positions you had, and your insight was seen as invaluable because of those positions. The reason there weren't excessive screenings and interviews, briefings and training was exactly because I wanted you to bring your prior jobs here. I want you to tell me about how best to handle military operations, you to tell me about how best to operate policing, you to tell me how to best handle consumer marketing. I never once went into this with the premise that I'm better than anyone, I chose this route because a company is constructed by a thousand hands. Can we do better?" Despite his best intentions, at the end of the day what he gave was a lecture. He knew that, he knew it's what they needed after this short-sighting. This was their first venture into an entirely new market, with entirely new variables. However that didn't divert blame or make it okay to ignore problems. He wanted to nip them in the bud before they flourished into absolute financial mayhem and chaos when they extrapolated and enfranchised The Burrito Bass, or another one of their establishments.
The people present didn't have much to say, one of them that was more confident at the moment would simply nod their head while remarking that they'd do better. Bass chose to continue.
"That being said, you also did a good thing. I'm obligated to pull your ear when we come across a problem, but it's normal for people to miss things, and most of you are new to your positions. I don't and never will expect perfection, I just expect you to all do your best, and I think you have been. Mistakes help us grow, and now I'm just saying cliches- but it's kind of true. You keep this company going when I'm not around, and even when I'm around I'm not sure I could handle everything myself- so you being here to help is invaluable."
There was a pause as Bass gauged their reaction, that seemed to lighten up the atmosphere in the room. He didn't want them leaving feeling terrible, afterall. Getting up, he'd walk over to a screen and turned on a projector. Lifting a pointer off from its leaned position against a wall, he'd adjust his tie and point to the diagram.
"So with that out of the way, let's get into the specifics of our next moves. Current financial data indicates that our jumbo produce is selling almost as fast as we can produce it once it hits the market. West City primarily is making use of it since that's who gets to it first, but we've had buyers paying extra to have it transported to other locations further away. That makes for a break-up of thirty percent mid-range buyers, sixty percent close-range buyers and ten percent long-range buyers. It's not really in the most technical of terms, but I think it gets the point across.
These numbers are alright, but if we want to incentivize higher numbers we're going to have to increase our marketing efforts in further cities in the Eastern, Western, and Northern Lands. Not to mention we'd have to up marketing right here in our home of South City. In addition, a very particular thing we need to look into is selling produce to Pilaf Land. As we expand our farming operations they'll be a huge buyer. It'd be illogical to refuse the opportunity to not wave around signs saying 'jumbo food' in their amusement parks, and I believe it'd form a mutually beneficial relationship between us and The Pilaf Corporation, which up until this point has been non-existent. Eventually we're going to need to form business relationships with Pilaf Corp and Capsule Corp if we expect to make large moves in other lands." Lowering the pointer from the different numbers, he'd rest it on the ground and lean his weight on it ever so slightly. Moving over to the projector, he'd switch it over to the next slide.
"Any thoughts so far, or are we all in agreement?" He asked, scanning the group. One of the executives waved his attention, to which he gave them the all go to share their thoughts.
"One thing that we might've been overlooking as well is not just expanding our farms, but setting them up in various locations so we can conveniently service as many people as possible. That would allow customers to not have to worry about large shipping costs, so while each individual purchase would go down the influx of interested buyers would more than make up for it, right?" He said, one elbow resting on the table as he looked towards Bass.
He got the point, as Bass exclaimed. "That's why I hired you, that's what we'll be doing as well. I think currently we have plans to increase the size of our current farmlands, but over the coming weeks we'll need to get in touch with real estate agents in foreign lands while getting permits to farm in the those areas as well. That should put us in a position where we can both have jumbo food in multiple lands, and increase our profit margins. Fantastic idea."
Looking back to the new slide that was up in front of them, Bass slapped the pointer against the screen and pointed to a little diagram. It seemed to show concept art for The Burrito Bass, a large building with a pseudo-restaurant look with a bit of fast food flare tossed in.
"This here is, as you've all been hearing about, our first ever endeavor into the food industry. It's one of the most profitable industries in the world considering the biological necessity for it, but don't let that fool you into thinking this idea was founded on any logic aside from the fact that I just like Burritos and West City's in the center of the maps of Earth." There was a bit of laughter into the room, but needless to say the Namekian save but a simple smirk continued on with what he was saying.
"At the moment all of our produce is going to other markets, considering this place has yet to exist. Of course, we need to either expedite or lay off our farming expansion of the Central Lands location until we're able to offload that produce to this building. I suspect, considering my intentions to add my own personal touch to the place, it'll be constructed within a couple of weeks. If we plant a jumbo crop in each farm a day, that should net us enough to completely satisfy the needs of any food business, even one that specifically markets itself to Martial Artists."
There was a pause at the announcement, it'd been happening for generations. The actions of a few had painted martial artists as absolutely insatiable eaters, and often they were right.
"That is our next horizon. For the opening day at The Burrito Bass, I'm looking to have literal tons of jumbo ingredients ready to go. As for staffing the place, I'll be traveling the Earth to connect with individuals that will be able to work in that kind of environments, as jumbo ingredients being used to their full potential isn't feasible with Earthlings. Monsters however, can grow large enough- and there are plenty of examples of civilized monsters that can integrate with society. What I need you to do is start campaigning for the opening day of The Burrito Bass.
We're going to need a twenty four hour staff line-up, double the amount of ingredients on hand that we'd normally have. We're also going to leading up to it need excessive advertisements targeting one of the most niche populations on Earth, the one percent that's often more broke than ninety nine percent of us. Which introduces a critical problem." There was a pause as the room filled with tension.
"While we will be accepting zeni, if a Martial Artist can't pay we need to find a way for them to give us the value of whatever they eat. I have a potential lead I want someone to run with while considering potential alternative solutions. Martial Artists are incredibly influential individuals, and by providing them with food their payment if they lack the zeni can be in service. They can haul tons of jumbo produce, fight off bandits, be assigned over to the Western Lands to fight crime. There are hundreds of ways that Martial Artists can be dynamically assigned to assist The Momentum Corporation in achieving our goals and gaining profits. In addition, it could be a window into recruiting Martial Artists into my team of fighters, and in those cases if they didn't cover their own tails with service I'll pay out of pocket for their food.
So, thank you to whoever comes up with that layout. I believe that concludes the meeting for today."
And, it would conclude Bass's journey of farming.
At least, for now. Oh, he also ate some jumbo food.
[4543 words. Farming complete.] [32070 running total]
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Post by Bass on Jul 2, 2021 20:23:15 GMT -8
[Next Arc: The Burrito Bass Arc. 13,000 words. Grants +25% gains to thread stronghold was built in.] After the insanity of the jumbo farm, life started to normalize once again. The nine to five days in the office became regular, meetings became commonplace and The Momentum Tower once again had its CEO active within the building itself. The primary reason for that was the next step in their global expansion, particularly The Burrito Bass in West City, required a lot of legal moves before they could actually even begin building the structure on the lot they'd purchased. The technicalities included the fact that they were a foreign organization from another land entirely operating internationally, but that was but one of hundreds of forms Bass and his executives have had to look over in the past little bit. That being said, the stack was getting smaller, and Bass was getting more anxious to get doing something again.
He'd found himself on this particular day at the top of The Momentum Tower, higher than his office and the upper board rooms. The plateau at the top had a nice garden amidst cutting edge structural engineering incorporating glass flooring and aesthetically pleasing lighting to put some shine on the pool at the top, as well as illuminate the roof at night.
Resting his hands on the guard railing, a place where the building went a little higher than the plateau built in a meter or so lower, he looked out towards the world and more specifically South City. It helped him immensely to empathize with the perspective of an Earthling. They did not have the option to fly, teleport, run at extreme speeds or make a mockery of travel entirely. Each and every one of the ones that weren't gifted with the perfect circumstances to live an entirely different life that they wanted ended up as part of society. Down below, he could see sidewalks filled with busy people carrying out their days, suitcases in hand or casual clothes. Given his keen perception, he could even make out some of the people that were walking.
There was a business man, dressed in a suit carrying a briefcase at his side. Wearing sunglasses, his hurried pace and repeated glances towards his watch indicated he might've been running late. Looking just a few blocks over from his vantage point on top of the tower, the Namekian saw a couple, man and woman walking down the sidewalk hand in hand. His people- Namekians, didn't necessarily have the same biological make-up that Humans did, but from seeing it everywhere he looked it wasn't as if romance never crossed his mind. Ultimately he'd decided that even if he were interested in romance from a platonic perspective, his true line of work would put anyone he seriously cared for in danger. After all, villains had a tendency of exploiting the weakest link to make things go the way they wanted it to. It wasn't lost on Bass that accepting such was a lonely existence, but he'd lived through harder before, and he'd certainly go through worse if someone he cared about was killed in the crossfire.
Thinking about the crossfire between fighters, his mind immediately went to King Piccolo and his swarms attacking the borders of the Western and Central Lands. Tightening his grip on the railing, a vein in his forehead became ever so slightly more prominent. For everything he was capable of in this day and age, despite all of the progress he made he still felt powerless against the scale of King Piccolo's attacks. The innumerable people that lived and died fighting against his onslaught weren't lost to Bass. He felt personally responsible, being dropped from the same tree so to speak.
Somewhere along the way, he felt like he'd lost some of the integrity he once had. It haunted him, he felt more true to himself when he simply worked at an office job trying to convince new clients to bank with them than he did running the entire corporation. Or perhaps it was never that, as he sifted through his thoughts. He remembered uncovering ancient ruins with the only man to put him to the test, a young Human man by the name of Kiryu. Was he dead? He had a knack for picking fights, and often played using a bag of tricks. The problem with tricks is that they often were situational, he wouldn't be surprised if the one person that'd ever truly brought out a hundred percent of the Namekian had met his end biting off more than he could chew.
Yet if that were the case, Bass certainly wouldn't blame him for having an adventurous spirit. In their line of living, pushing to grow stronger was always a game of chance. Danger lurked all over Earth just out of sight, and popping into the wrong cave, the wrong forest, or place truly anywhere could uncover a secret best left buried. They were fortunate that the one they uncovered was manageable, but making a habit of digging up ancient foes likely wasn't sustainable in the long run.
Looking up from the streets, the sky was starting to fade from a vibrant blue into a warm orange as the sun began to sink into the horizon. The end of another day- filled with hellos and goodbyes, meetings and paperwork. The right thing felt so wrong to the Namekian tainted with darkness. The piece that'd never left, and never could. Evil was in his nature, something not many things could honestly say. Now that he didn't work alongside many people, and the old faces he'd known worked in entirely different parts of the building, the job had lost the luster and comradery he'd enjoyed so much. It was a necessary thing, having to take the reigns on a multi-million zeni corporation in order to fight his war against his past; and their future.
He'd settled his reflection for the day, pushing off of the rail and stepping a few feet away. Lifting up off of the ground, as the sun set he'd quietly fly over South City towards his oval shaped home near the top of a spiral highway in the sky. Landing on the balcony, he'd quietly open the door to see his long time roommate and friend Icey cooking herself some supper. Looking over towards the sound, she raised her hand to offer a wave before returning to cooking. Bass smelled tomato sauce, taking a guess he figured it was some kind of pasta.
"Hey, Bass. Want any? There's going to be left overs if not." She asked, not taking the time to look over her shoulder.
He thought about it for a moment. Truthfully, for once he hadn't eaten supper, but it wasn't like he needed to eat at all. The sun and water were good enough to keep him going, a privilege he didn't take for granted after seeing people working so hard just to put food on the table. Not wanting to say no to his roommates generosity, he'd raise his voice.
"Sure. I'm just going to go get cleaned up, how much longer will it be?" He asked, closing the balcony door behind him. She'd quickly let him know that it'd be about five more minutes and to take his time, prompting the Namekian to give a nod and head into his room.
He'd pull off his dress shoes, worn and worked through months of moving around. Not just day to day Earthling activities, but the stuff of martial arts as well. The base of the shoes were starting to split, he figured they'd only last another week or so before he'd need to replace them. Setting a small briefcase to the side of his bed, he'd flop back and close his eyes.
He didn't anticipate that was all it would take for him to pass out.
He woke up at some point in the night, immediately jumping up as he was supposed to be having supper with Icey. Though adjusting to the dark, he'd see a faint white slip beneath his door. Taking the time to get up and move towards it, he'd duck down and pick it up, wandering back to sit on the edge of his bed whilst reading it.
'Don't worry about supper. I left yours in the fridge, I know you've been swamped lately.' - Icey (like it'd be anyone else).
Nevertheless the Namekian felt guilty. Setting the piece of paper aside, both hands would rest on the edge of his bed as he thought about things. There used to be something... Invigorating about life. If he knew the answer he'd try to fix it, go back to it, but he could only speculate on the truth. One thought he had was at the beginning of the journey, he was nobody, nothing. He was the underdog with the world breathing down his neck to prove himself. He was living in the shadow of King Piccolo, despised by anyone who even remotely knew who he was for who he was affiliated with. He was also much weaker back then... Now, things were different. He'd been in the news multiple times, his company had global reach, and it seemed like that trend was only going higher and higher. Pain used to be a huge motivator for the Black Heart Namekian. Spite and hatred fueled the most unlikely of good deeds, wanting to prove everyone and everything that he could be more.
Though now that he'd... achieved that, being the strongest thing he could think of and rapidly rising to become a global corporate competitor, there was no longer any of that sense of being an underdog. He was now leading people, thousands of employees across multiple lands all eventually got their work set out for them by him. World Domination didn't really feel too far off, if half of the maniacal villains had the sense to play the long game that he did, Earth would've already been done for. Perhaps it was fortunate that Bass was a rebellious child towards Piccolo Daimao, refusing to serve the purpose he was created for.
But, he didn't want to think his entire existence was born and maintain by spite. The laughter, the people... Well, he was getting another headache. Dropping back down on the bed, it wouldn't take much longer for him to drift on to the next morning.
Like that, the days blurred as paperwork came and went. He was really starting to look like a CEO, diligently cooped up between meetings and his office making high scale decisions that were extrapolated on by multiple executives. He was itching to do something, anything. The mundane nature of Earthling work was... It was actually wearing on him. He'd gotten so close to it, that he was living the same reality that many people lived. It was a chore to wake up, painful to force himself to go to work and going home was a synonym to going to sleep and repeating it all again.
He hated it. The only reason he'd discovered, why the job hadn't been painful beforehand, was that his work and life balance had been healthy to phrase it in an Earthling way. Working in his position, most of his days were dedicated to playing boss, and it wasn't just boss of a branch office. He was the head of branch managers, having to give clearance to dozens of different things per day. His phone often was filled with messages in the period that he took a call, eventually he decided he needed to make an attempt to turn a new page. Booking an emergency board meeting for the same day after lunch, he'd pull off his morning just like any other.
Come time for the meeting, he made a point to be the first one in and the last one out. Once it was in full swing, the people around him were the same ones to be sitting there after the jumbo farm incident a couple months ago. He'd pause for a few moments, before getting straight into the subject matter of the meeting.
"What's holding back opening in West City? Permits? Backlash from real estate? What's going on?" He asked, flipping open a booklet with some notes before looking towards the each of them. He got a brief response from one of the executives.
"We've been just as anxious about that. We haven't gotten clearance to build there despite making multiple requests, we haven't gotten any answers from them for weeks now, actually. We think... It might have something to do with what we intend to build on the plot. The place well- that might not be a problem, it might be more about our target customers. Martial Artists are known for being chaotic and capable of causing a lot of damage, they might be hesitant and therefore evasive on getting the ball moving." She said, to which Bass just nodded his head.
"I don't think they can ignore me if I go there in person. You all know your jobs, and you don't need me around to do them, right? I'm going to head there and sort out The Burrito Bass. I want everyone involved in that project over the last couple of months to come forward with any useful documentation I should bring with me." He said. Of course, he had no idea the scale of what he was asking for.
The next day he'd have his wishes fulfilled, slated to head to West City with... A pile of documentation and research that'd gone into optimizing the business's opening and subsequent rollout and normalization. Reviewing some of the files with a cursory glance, he found different records of high profile Monster Chefs across Earth in the last thirty years, a list that was startlingly small. Bass was aware that Monsters in society were rare, he should've expected that monsters that excelled in their professions were even rarer. Almost all of them were from rural places where a Monster wouldn't cause as much of a commotion. If his company needed to disclose this information to whomever would give the building permit, he could understand even more so why there'd been pushback.
Taking flight with a stuffed suitcase on his person, he'd be greeted with the view of the Southern Sea once again. He'd gotten familiar with some of the surrounding islands, his mind roaming back to where he found the Armor of Vegeta. In hindsight, the bunker could've been Tuffle in nature, but a lot of details made that seem unlikely. Covering large swaths of water in a short period of time, the same old thing transpired another time with no significant hold-ups.
Reaching the official beginning of the Central Lands, Bass's first stop was undoubtedly going to be the jumbo farm. He'd gotten follow up reports for some time now, but seeing it himself would put his mind at ease for the stability of the entire project. After all, apparently jumbo crops could very easily be illegal depending on if they had any mutagenic effects in them (putting his potential for making jumbo beef into the gutter). Perhaps some day he could have that law changed, but until then he'd have to play by the rules.
Unlike last time, he could see the farm from much further away. After all, a massive greenhouse surrounded the farm after the building project started at the end of his stay there. The huge structure amplified the energy received by the plants while simultaneously acting as a snowfall barrier so the plants could grow year round. Landing on the ground nearby, he'd be greeted by the sound of machinery rumbling around. Seeing a vehicle with treads chugging out of the greenhouse, he'd note a series of jumbo crops bouncing around in the back trailer of it. Flying passed the vehicle and into the farm, he'd see the operation in full swing. People with signs were directing harvesting equipment around kilometers of farmland, having them uproot jumbo onions and cut apart beanstalks.
If there was an infestation of pests again, Bass would've heard about it- and these people wouldn't be working in the open. Needless to say, his mind was quickly put at ease, and he'd fly out and continue towards his original destination; West City.
One of the files he'd received included information about the location of the plot for The Burrito Bass, including any logistical details that needed to be kept in mind while building. More about the manual work rather than the tiny details, Bass was more interested in where exactly to find the plot his business would eventually be sitting. Whatever it looked like was to be determined, but what wouldn't change would be the surroundings and area. In hindsight it was one of those things he'd have wanted a direct say in, but he often was forced to put trust in his executives given his workload nowadays.
Covering a vast amount of ground in a short amount of time, he'd begin flying in West City airspace. Capsule Corp could be seen in the distance, the signature yellow sphere serving as that ever strong symbol of the center of Earth (despite it being called West City). Yet unlike the large beacon of science and technology, the empty plot revealed itself to be much less exciting. At the moment it was a dirt square with a sign slammed into it.
Surrounding the place were a couple of other buildings along the sidewalk. He'd need to investigate each of them closely to determine if they should go for another spot before locking everything in and investing even more zeni, but for now he just needed to get situated and establish connections. Slowly he'd descend, watching traffic going to and from the nearby intersections. As his feet touched the ground below him at the center of The Burrito Bass's eventual location, he'd soak in the street view.
Folding his arms across his chest, he'd soak in the sight. This place could certainly work, it had the charm of a local restaurant.
[3,011 words. 9,989 remaining.] [35081 running total]
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Post by Bass on Jul 10, 2021 6:34:19 GMT -8
The future had to be bright for The Burrito Bass. Standing outside of the plot, he could imagine what it might turn out to be. The people that would find a place here. He knew in his early days at Momentum Financial, a highlight of his day was learning about Earthling food. He was a lot rougher around the edges back then, but there was something about the extensive talent in their cuisine that pulled him in. As a Namekian he didn't even have to eat, by why pass up the chance for more energy in an advancing martial artist? It was essentially in his own corny way of internally thinking, a way of giving back in the best way possible. Though the irony of it was that not many Earthlings would be involved with the restaurant, but they certainly weren't deterred whatsoever. It was a simple matter of logistics, as they would eventually have to make burritos too large for normal sized people to put together without machinery, and at that point being sanitary got more and more complicated when proper equipment was being used for making food. That machinery would also take away the spark of the food.
It was always that spark that Bass was drawn to the most. In some ways, he valued normal people as having equal or greater ambitions to his own. Having reflected on the dichotomy between his martial arts life and his life as the CEO and former employee of the once Momentum Financial, he came to the realizations that while Martial Artists were noteworthy, they were often a result of the Earthlings or members of other species that happened to have powerful goals driving them to become physically stronger or master themselves. That had a way of overshadowing the millions of people that had careers and aspirations having nothing to do with the flashy world of Martial Arts, Heroes and Villains. Some wanted to teach, some wanted to cook, others just wanted to make people smile with art and creativity.
That was the spark that made him learn to care about Earth. He could rarely sense genuine malice in people, unlike what he could easily identify in hindsight from Piccolo Daimao and at one point him.
Yet he had work to do instead of simply loitering on the lot. Walking down the West City street, he'd look around at the neighbouring food places. They were mostly local one off places, with one fast food franchise location down at the far corner of the street to the East. Chances where they would have to discuss on a more corporate level. The rest of the businesses in the area seemed like the kind of places where things could get done by going in and having a serious conversation with their respective owners. These were people passionate about what they did- the difficulty of the restaurant industry made that mandatory if people expected to have the drive to go through a career of cuisine.
The jangle of a chime overhead rung as he opened one of the shop doors. It looked to be a deli of a sorts, with a counter on the right and a row of tables on the left. The glass window on the counter allowed uninterrupted view into where the ingredients would be, allowing potential customers to know exactly what they wanted and confirm the freshness of the ingredients. It wasn't as if he wasn't also taking notes through this little expedition, but to be frank his corporation had already done more than enough research to know how to market a Burrito shop.
Though sandwiches and Burritos had a lot of overlap, but there was enough diversity that he didn't think he'd cut their profits too much by setting up the Burrito Place. In fact, there was a chance his advertising could bring new customers into the area that are into spicy Southern Island foods and the likes, to which they'd see the other local businesses and make a note to come by at a later point. It just depended on if the owner of this place saw it the other way.
He also figured it would only be polite to offer his patronage to the establishment, and so he moved over to one end of the counter where the sandwich order started and waited patiently for one of the employees in the backroom to come out to serve him. The bell that'd rung signified a customer had come in, and considering it was around the middle of the afternoon it was reasonable they had that installed. If there were peak hours in a place as quiet as this, it was probably around meal times and alongside peoples breaks from work.
Coming around the bend from the backroom looked to be a grisly man with silver hair and older features. He seemed to be wearing a hairnet and a white outfit with an apron, quickly approaching the counter with his eyes trailing along the floor. When he eventually looked up towards the customer he was serving upon arriving, their was a widening of his eyes as he became startled. A bead of sweat formed on Bass's forehead, he got this kind of treatment a lot when he'd first moved to Southern City- but it was even more subtle than this considering the Southern Islands were across the world from the armies of Piccolo Daimao. West City certainly was not as distant, surely considering it was one of the better cities in the world it had a lot going for it, but the threat of Piccolo Daimao's army wasn't far off over several horizons. If the defending forces lost too much ground, there would come a time when the citizens might hear the sounds of battle amidst their daily lives. So; the initial fear didn't really surprise the Namekian, but naively he just hoped it wouldn't happen again rather than clinging onto the pessimistic truth that until Piccolo Daimao fell, he would be lumped in with his creators warpath.
Seeing as he seemed a lot more civil, the older fellow calmed down after a moment and tried not to address the awkward momentary interaction. Instead looking nervous in his own right, he'd give a slight smile and speak up towards Bass.
"Hello sir, a-ah what're ya thinkin' of gettin'? We have 'er... Well, here." He said as he leaned forward a bit, pointing to the little menu present on Bass's side of the glass that showed their different kinds of sandwiches. He admitted deli's weren't his normal stomping grounds, so the procedure was a little foreign on him. Ultimately he'd- enthusiastically trying to disarm the man's nervousness by smiling (didn't help considering it seemed a little unnatural). Pointing to one of them he'd raise his voice.
"I'm thinking of getting this one...-" He'd start, leaning forwards and narrowing his eyes towards the text. "-a foot size sixteen flatbread." He questioned the naming convention for the various sizes, which seemed to correlate with... Shoe sizes. It wasn't necessarily the best marketing strategy for making ones food look appealing. Nevertheless, Bass had gone for the largest size available.
The man gave a nod, turning about and moving to a little cooler where previously prepared bread simply rested ready to be used. Sliding out one of the sixteen inch flatbreads, he'd set it down and ask a couple of questions, now getting fully into the swing of things after the initial startle from the Black Heart Namekian.
"Alright what kinda fillin' and cheese would yuh like- if any?" He'd also gesture up towards the menu above the counter, a faintly illuminated menu that showed a bunch of their menu items. Of course, these only really came into play if a customer wasn't just building their sandwich from scratch and wanted to try something that'd been vetted by the workers here themselves, but still. Glancing through them all, the steak option seemed to appeal to the Namekian. Letting out a pondering hum, he'd fold his arms and rest one fist to the bottom of his chin.
"I think I'll go for your shredded steak filling there. I'll also go with shredded cheddar cheese as well, thanks." He'd say, watching the man quickly take a pronged spoon into the bin containing the shredded steak. It seemed fairly fresh, a lid available to cover it whenever it didn't need to be used so that the meat wasn't unnecessarily exposed to the elements when that wasn't necessary. Packing in a few scoops into the sandwich, he'd then sprinkle a layer of cheese on top before shoving it into some kind of toaster. Setting the timer to thirty seconds, he'd shut it and turn back towards the Namekian.
"Gonna wanna look o'er there fer what toppin' y'u want. Jus' er if y'er gettin onions gimme a minute to get the next batch out." He said, to which Bass gave an affirmative nod. That seemed to be confirmation enough for him to head off into the backroom to finish preparations for the next bin of red onions. Despite his disclaimer, he came out even before the ding of the toaster and quickly slid the new bin into the slot after taking out the empty one.
Timed just about perfectly with the sandwich, he'd turn about and grab it out of the toaster before setting it down on the counter. Looking up towards Bass, he'd gesture towards the toppings. "So, pick wha' you'd like."
Having looked over the grouping of different toppings, he didn't really need to ponder long before he began firing off the names of various ingredients. "Alright. I'll get onions, lettuce, tomatoes, ... I'll try some olives and I'll also get some mushrooms." The last thing was an odd inclusion for a sandwich shop, but the idea of having mushrooms wasn't really unappealing to the Namekian. Watching him get all the ingredients ready he'd get the sauces he'd want out of the way as well.
"I'd like to get Chipotle and Light Mayo please, yeah." He then after a moment longer, asked the guy a question. "I'm new to the area, how long have you been running this place?" Letting the question sit for a second, as he was getting Bass's sandwich ready he'd reply.
"Ya, I didn' think I've seen you or any of y'er kind here much, but I've been runnin' this business for a few decades or so now. Back when I started it the place was the local place all the kids would come to for lunch I think, but kids can be impressionable. I think they're all hooked on that Burger Jock store a few places over." Listening to what he said, Bass gave a nod. Truthfully, he'd actually forgotten to take a look at the name of the place when he'd enter. Looking around the inside of the shop, he wouldn't find much until his eyes finally landed on a small title card amidst the menu. Roy's Sandwich Station. How humble.
He thought about bringing up The Burrito Bass right then, but he figured he'd give it until after he'd finished his food. To which, the man began wrapping up the finished sandwich right then and there. Packing it into some light sheet paper before putting a wrapper around it, he'd ask if Bass wanted it to go or here. "I'll eat it here." Giving the Namekian a nod, the man stood back up from having been about to pull out a plastic bag from under the counter. Instead he fetched a small basket, laying the sandwich out across it and sliding it on over towards the cash register.
Brandishing his greatest weapon, Bass slapped some zeni on the counter according to the price of the food. He was always skeptical about tipping though. It depended on the culture of certain places, since tipping can easily be seen as judging a workers performance when they're expected to always be at their best. He decided to play it safe, not wanting to disrespect the effort the man put in despite how long he'd been working and running his little deli.
Accepting the transaction he'd slide over the tray and offer a small smile. "Have y'erself uh good day sir, and ah hope yuh come back again." While said enthusiastically, given the seeming drop in customers for however long it's been, it felt like he was really trying hard to pick up the business that was slowly declining. Still, all Bass could do at the moment would offer a smile in return while lightly providing a nod.
Moving over to a table with his tray, he'd take a seat and unpack the food. It was time to figure out how good this stuff was. Taking a bite of the sandwich, he'd ruminate over it for a moment. It almost felt weird staking out the quality of the nearby food places, but in his own head he figured it was a sign of appreciation to at least be a customer to the nearby areas to get familiar with where his business was going to be. The sandwich itself was honestly pretty good- these kinds of quiet hard to find and small food shops had a tendency to be either a hit or a tragic miss, and it turned out this one was the former. Of course, one could argue the culinary mastery required to throw together a sandwich were secondary to the quality of ingredients, which was why ho' boy did the Namekian have an offer for this store owner, an offer that he'd likely be extending to a lot of other restaurants in the area.
It honestly took him half a minute to finish the sandwich, and he was eating slowly to savor the flavor. It wasn't bad by a longshot, pretty solid, and for a type of meal reliant on the freshest best ingredient he felt like he could help out quite a bit. Picking up the basket, there was no longer a sign of Roy in the front- likely preparing more batches of ingredients in the back room. Placing down the tray near the garbage bins on the way out, he'd trail back over towards the counter.
"Uhm... Excuse me!?" Bass would call out. He didn't necessarily shout, more so just raise the voice, the bass (hehe) of it being enough to carry over to the older mans ears. Coming back out, he'd be wiping his hands down.
"Wow, that was fast, harhar!" He laughed, setting the cloth aside for a moment. "What do ya need?" He followed up with, raising a brow given the Namekian wasn't in the commonly expected place for him to be at if he wanted another sandwich. In fact, Roy was worried most about it being a complaint about the food quality, but had second thoughts when there was no signs of the sandwich- and then third thoughts when he did a double take thinking Bass could've tossed it in the trash. However when Bass spoke, relief washed over him.
"The food was good, thanks by the way. But uh... I'm going to all the local places to get acquainted with the owners. My name's Bass, I'm actually going to be opening up my business next to here in the near future, so I wanted to meet you first." He'd say, extending his hand. A hearty shake occurred, as the mans interest was piqued beyond the potential negative emotions that might've festered over another potential competitor.
"Oh yah? What're yuh makin'? This place is pre'y packed if I'm bein' honest, ha." Bass gave a nod. "Well, I staked out the area before hand (not entirely, his company did) and I noticed this might be a good place to make a restaurant specializing in Southern Island cuisine. You know, Burrito's and whatnot. You heard of The Momentum Corporation?" The words seemed to not compute with the man- the last sentence particularly. A bead of sweat formed on the Black Heart Namekians head from the silence.
"W-well, the place is going to be called The Burrito Bass-" He was cut off by Roy who let out a bout of laughter and pointed at him. "Aha, that's good! I like that, clever, 'cause y'er name is Bass." He'd remark, followed by Bass confirming with a, "Yeah, Bassically." The second pun made Roy slap the counter as he wheezed for a second. The Namekian didn't think it was overly funny, but maybe it was the atmosphere in the room or maybe the guy just needed a laugh given the tough times his place was going through.
"A-anyways Roy, I was thinking it would be wise to talk with all of the local businesses in the area. I don't think anyone's selling Southern Island food, but I think if someone is, I'd like to talk that through with them. I also have a proposition,-" He said, before thinking about it internally for a moment. The man seemed interested, but a moment's silence played out as Bass thought. It was only one place, but one place here, one place there added up. If all of these businesses started using his ingredients, then... What about the actual farmers?"
He'd never thought about that. He had no ill intent, but supply and demand were cruel facts of trade. If a different product satiated the same need, that just as a byproduct kicked the former producer to the curb. He wished he could feel as guilt free as he did when he was just another body for Momentum Financial doing sales, but now he ran the whole operation. His decisions and his projects could really screw people over. Chances were he'd never see or hear about the damage his corporation would indirectly cause by these kinds of moves to local families, and... Was he becoming the cliche of the supermarket that kills out the local grocery stores? His silence couldn't be prolonged anymore though as he spoke up. He would have a lot of time to think about a way to satisfy all parties, the world of business was conquerable without guilt if the correct mental gymnastics were performed.
"Well, The Momentum Corporation as I mentioned is something I run out of South City." Roy remarked that South City was pretty far out, and asked about how hot it is down there. "It's hot, thankfully I'm pretty in tune with the sun." He said, referring to his Namekian nature.
"Anyways, right. We have a farm set up not too far from West City that sends out a special kind of ingredients. They're called Jumbo Crops, and their main appeal is how much you get and their nutritional value. I just thought I'd put it out there that you can look us up and make an informed decision with that in mind. We have all of the nutritional information on our website or whatever it is, but-" Roy interjected, letting out a chuckle.
"I don't use them computers too much, could yuh just tell me righ' now? As yah can tell I don't get too many custumahs, so I don't know if I'm in a place to invest anyways."
And then it clicked for the Namekian.
He was doing sales.
Sure, it may have not been Momentum Financial and he may have not been selling banking services to people, but he was doing sales. That full circle gave him a lot of spirit, and he would give a warm response.
"Ah, I understand. Really you don't have to worry about it, I know most of what you need to know to make an informed decision. Basically, I'm sure you've heard of Jumbo Crops in the past. In case you haven't, they're about three hundred times the size of their 'normal'-" Bass made airquotes, "-counterparts. However just like we're blessed with terrifying dinosaurs and wee little geckos, plants do the same thing. You know how much more dangerous a dinosaur is compared to a gecko, it's the same principle- just replace danger with nutrition and value.
With the right front investment, it's as easy to grow, and with the right machinery it's pretty streamlined to harvest. Of course, not many places have the zeni to afford the investment required to get it running, but we have. They're superfoods basically, they offer more nutritional value for the same price, giving you more, better, and tastier ingredients." Some of that was subjective, some of that was based on research.
"But what's the catch?" He asked, a lot of people asked what was the catch to a clever business plan. A lot of people were convinced they needed to be screwed over if they felt like their was a good opportunity. A lot of business practiced that method, maximizing profit margins by cutting morality out of the equation. However with a bit more investment, a bit more care, a but more organization, and direct intervention, Bass prevented the Momentum Corporation from following into that pit.
"We'll draft you up a formal contract if you're interested. We'll even hire a third party legal team to look it over. We don't do much with fine print. However it'd probably be simpler just to take my word for it, there isn't a catch. You noticed it when I got here, I'm not a normal guy, and I'm trying to change things on the world and answer real problems. My company is anything but sketchy like you'd expect from Pilaf Corp." Throwing shade, he was. He of course lowered his voice to share that hush hush between the two of them.
Thinking it over, Roy responded.
"I think that's pretty ambitious. How about let me think on it, I'll look up y'er company or whatever Moment Company-" Bass interjected, "-Momentum Corporation." Roy followed up with the confirmed name, "Momen'um Corp and see what they and you're all about and if it's even legit harhar- I ain't ever 'eard of a Momen'um comp'ny bu' tha's a given since it's'n the South harhar!" He laughed, turning about to glance towards the backroom.
"Alright, sounds good. I have a few more stops to be making today, but I'm thinking this won't just be the start of The Burrito Bass, I think it'll be a chance with the marketing my company can do to promote the whole block. That way everybody gets a big boost in sales, since I'm sure a lot of citizens in West City haven't even been out to these places, they're pretty far out from the main property. Makes sense, having a place near Capsule Corp is in the tens of millions of zeni most of the time unless you're renting a box." Bass remarked, bringing up the gargantuan real estate hike in the high value property around the largest Corporation in the world's HQ.
"'Course, good luck with y'er lil' bus'ness venture 'n keep me up tuh date." He'd say, turning around and heading back to the backroom to finish prepping something or other. He raised a hand in a waving motion as he disappeared behind a corner. "By fer now Bass!"
And then he was gone. Following that the Namekian quietly pushed open the door and allowed the gentle chime to ting once or twice as he made his way out of the deli.
Outside once more, looking down at his watch as he raised it up, he'd realize he'd been in there for half an hour. Taking a look around the immediate area he'd glance at 'Burger Jock' down a few buildings to the East, but there were a bunch of different places. There was a pizza place, a local poutine shop, a flower shop (not some weird food flowers), an ice cream and dessert shop, and a hearty Northern Lands meat-sellin' restaurant in his the buildings he could easily see from where he was standing.
It was then, to nobodies surprise that the Namekian would be spending a long day on the job.
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Post by Bass on Jul 10, 2021 6:35:00 GMT -8
Three hours had passed since he'd left Roy's Sandwich Station. Just leaving what looked to be a Pizza and Pub hybrid, the Namekian moved over the a nearby bench to take a seat and update the clipboard he was holding. Word for word his little notes appeared to be the following;
'Roy's Sandwich Station: (✓) Owner is researching offer, follow up in 2 weeks if no response is made.
Max Snax: (✓) Owner was out, employee says to follow up in 1 week when she gets back from vacation.
Avalanche: (✓) No need for much negotiation, Ice Cream and Burritos are opposites, and The Momentum Corporation cannot provide jumbo ingredients given the ingredients Ice Cream and its' toppings are made out of. Note: Start scouting ethical forecasts for Jumbo Cattle.
Burger Jock: (✓) Owner was pretty abrasive and full of himself, but he seemed receptive to the idea of jumbo ingredients- in fact, he didn't even really think twice.
The Great Pizza & Pub: (✓) A pretty popular place already, the owner wasn't too concerned and was rather supportive of The Burrito Bass. Showed an interest in a business relationship and was considering investing Jumbo Ingredients. If The Momentum Corporation doesn't hear back within 2 weeks, pay another visit.
Pichi Pichi Pichi's: (✓) A fairly wild business model, this one. Employees are quite adventurously dressed. The food was not really remarkable, but they seemed sort of interested in Jumbo Ingredients. I've come to the unfortunate conclusion that food comes second at this place. Nevertheless, follow up in 2 weeks if we do not hear from them at headquarters.
Garry Hot Dog Good: (✓) An eccentric food stand owner, and a sketchy place. However the quality of the Hot Dogs were truly on a level of their own. Unfortunately Garry Good was not interested in Jumbo Ingredients. He must have some kind of secret to making hot dogs. I would recommend corporate espionage if we were the Pilaf Corporation, but we're not.
Granulo's Gunk and Stuff:'
There was one place left on the list. At the end of the road opposite of Burger Jock was a sketchy little location called Granulo's Gunk and Stuff. As far as he could tell from the signs outside, they seemed to sell... P-prison food and military rations? It was incredibly odd, and Bass found himself staring at the venue for some time. It wasn't for a whole five minutes that something would happen, a mascot wearing an MRE costume moved. It only then occurred to Bass that it'd been much to his horror, standing in the window and staring at him silently. Specifically, the mascot seemed to slowly wave towards him. Raising his hand in turn, the Namekian slowly returned the wave- but the mascot didn't seem to stop waving at this point. A bead of sweat formed on Bass's head as he tried to piece together what in the world was happening at the moment. Lowering his own hand to his side, he'd just watch the mascot continue to wave. The only reason he actually noticed the mascot was because it was pressed up against the tinted glass. Any further back, and he wouldn't be able to see anything inside of the store.
Was this place serious? It had to be some kind of crime front, money laundering or otherwise. Looking down at the clip board, he wondered if it was really worth the trouble even going into this place, he knew he was in for it if he did. However the realization quickly came that this place could harm his own business if he wasn't careful, it was a monetary mystery. How long had it existed for?
There was only one way to found out. Bracing himself and stiffening his body, he took the first stride towards the ominous tinted glass door of Granulo's Gunk and Stuff.
Queue epic cliffhanger action image.
Moving towards the door, his hand would reach out to the handle. The millisecond the tip of his finger made contact with the handle, the seemingly pull or push based door with a handle just slid downwards into the ground like a weird automated door. Behind it seemed to be a veil that hung down from the ceiling, still blocking visibility of the main area. However from where he was, Bass could hear voices.
"Myes, mgreat mresults. Myes, myes, mcomin Mnamekian." Mmm... He wasn't sure about this already. Every non existent hair along his back was up on end, but he needed to persevere. He'd only hate himself more and more for being so stubborn, but at the end of it all he might thank himself- if this ended. Pushing through the first veil and walking inside, Bass was literally an inch away from the beady MRE mascot that was now staring at him point blank. Were those eyes more animated than a mascots costume should be? Maybe the creepiness was getting to him... Nevertheless, the mascot seemed to speak.
"Shso. Shyou share shhere shfor shfoods shyes? Shjust shgo shstraight shup shahead shMr. shCustomer." He wanted to make the mascot sh at this point as well. Though based on the direction he'd almost mechanically reorient his body to head towards the second veil. As soon as his hand touched the fabric, a booming voice seemingly from an intercom startled him.
"GWA GWA GWA GWA GWA GWA GWA GWA GWA GWA GWA GWAG!" It sounded like some kind of ridiculous laugh from some manga or something, and seemed to have no reason for it whatsoever. Ironically, perhaps it was his nervousness that made whatever was watching him have a little fit of laughter. Lifting the veil and moving forward down the dark tunnel obscured from the daylight outside, he'd come to an epiphany. He could ask the other restaurants about this place instead of ri-
As he took a step back, he bumped into something fluffy and soft. Turning around, the MRE mascot was staring at him. It might've just been him again, but Bass felt like there was some distinct feeling of squish when he pushed into the mascot as well, feelings and sounds that a fluffy costume shouldn't quite make. Sharing the look, Bass would a little nervous at this point raise his voice.
"I-I actually forgot my zeni at my house, I need to go fetch it ahahahaha!" He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously- a habit of his. The MRE mascot did not move, instead it leaned towards him and stared towards his eyes.
"Shso share shyou shsaying shyou shdon't shwant shour shfood shMr. shCustomer?" Despite the stupid sh's in front of every word, Bass was getting a terrible feeling from everything that was transpiring. Almost instinctively, he shook his head to deny the mascots question- which he was starting to think might be some kind of Demon or other.
"I... No, ahaha, I guess I'll make it work ahahaha..." He lamented internally as he turned back forward, his wallet practically bulging out of his right pocket. He had plenty of zeni, lying about not having and prior. Slowly Bass began to approach the third veil, glancing over his shoulder to see if anything was following him. At first he didn't see anything, but when he looked back forward he felt hot hair hit the back of his neck. Yet even when he did so, he saw nothing. Trying to sense for power signatures in the anomalous area, he found it was just a swamp of indiscernible signatures and levels that weren't distinguishable from one another.
As he closed in on the third veil and extended his hand, the final frontier would be removed to reveal what was beyond. The room before Bass had no instant surprises in his face, but instead the room itself was shocking. It was as if light didn't work the same in the area, the ground was just black as the void. In the middle of the room seemed to be a small table, with a small pink tablecloth sitting on top of it. Standing at the entrance for a moment, there was a push against his back and the voice of the mascot called out.
"Shseat shyourself shto shbe shserved." Bass assumed that out of the choices in front of him, the obvious decision was to sit in the chair closest to him. He admitted, the furniture was a size too small for him, but he dealt with it as he sat down comically larger than the seat below him. He was practically squatting, sitting in silence and staring into the darkness on all sides of the room. As he looked around further, he couldn't even decipher where he'd come from. He assumed it was opposite of where he was facing when he sat, but there were no noticeable entrances anymore. After his investigation his attention moved back forward, and when it did, he'd see them.
Sitting in the chair seemed to be a tiny humanoid, an older woman from the looks of it with a large bun of blue hair with two chopsticks through it. She had a lot of make-up, a white powder coating her features and bright red lipstick, it all was particularly jarring, but the Namekian had already seen a lot of things to get to this point. In silence, he would go to open his mouth before getting caught off guard by the other individuals interruption.
"Myes mmy mscry mpowers mhave mrevealed mto mme msomething. mBass mis mit? Mhmmmmmmmmmmmmmm..." She squinted towards him, as the Namekian tried to sort out what she was saying given her strange way of speaking. Before he could do so however, his delayed understanding of her speech would only become more delayed when she continued.
"Mi mhave mbeen mwatching myou mfor mquite msome mtime mBlack mHeart mNamekian. Myour maction mhave mrisks. Mwe mhave mint-" Bass raised a hand ever so slightly, causing the old individual to look towards the hand and tilt her head- uncannily so to one side.
"Myes?" She asked, before Bass spoke meekly. "I... I'm having trouble keeping up. Could you talk normally?" He asked, prompting a tense silence in the room between the two fingers. Then, the figure beamed and spoke normally as requested.
"Oh, thank kami! Do you know how annoying it is to have to talk like that for my company!? We have to do it for 'sensationalism' and 'intimidation' unless requested to do otherwise by our clients, to which, you are. I suppose I can give you a much more efficient introduction to Granulo's Gunk and Stuff. See, as you might've guessed we're not quite your average food restaurant!" She exclaimed, splaying a hand out to their surroundings.
"My beautiful baby Grandeurling, the Demon in which you are currently inside of. Do not worry however, you have not quite been eaten." At this point, Bass was just stunned at the insane twist of events that'd come on this day. He still wondered what they wanted with him considering what they knew, and as if they could read his thoughts his answer would be provided.
"Bass, Bass. Call me Granulo, Granny Ulo or whatever you want- we know what you're doing. We also know that it is not entirely dangerous if done correctly, but we've come here to assess your capabilities- not your physical ones, but your mental ones." There was a pause.
"I will be blunt. You have your scientists in the Southern Islands developing a non-euclidean space."
Bass didn't quite pale like most people, instead a bit of the blue faded away to bring out some of the basest underlying green that his skin had. However the fact that this person knew something that important about him elevated them from a curious anomaly to a proper threat. His jaw tensed, his fist balled up.
"Now now, don't be hasty! We are not here to disrupt your plans, we simply do our best to keep track of and catalogue extra dimensional places so that none of them collide. It is quite curious in fact." She said, as her eyes seemed to glow with knowledge. "The path you've taken to achieve this feat is... Yes, it's... It's interesting to say the least. I don't need to hazard a guess as to the origins of the people working in that laboratory, do I? The only minds to invent a space like the hyperbolic time chamber are..." She left it to common sense to answer.
Bass obviously knew what she was getting at, and she knew enough that he saw no point in denying anything. He'd taken a risk, sure, but that was the only way this was going to work. If it meant he had to fund a few not so great people for their work to pay off in dividends for good, it was not so bad, was it? Black Heart.
It was the weight of what had been crushing the Namekian so long, the sickness that'd captured his heart and was dragging him to the ground. He felt like he'd tapped into powers of the devil to achieve his goals, but... But how else? As far as he could tell, Earthling's had no attempts on record of recreating anything nearly as sophisticated as what he was working on.
"You don't need to tell me." She said, her eyes still glowing as information flooded into her. Being within the other Demon must've given the witch access to his memories. Needless to say it frustrated him, but if they had no truly harmful intentions than it was best to let water stay under the bridge.
"Right... I'm not sure what to say. The world is going to be in danger some day, that much is inevitable. I want to have every advantage I can get for when that day com-" There was a pause, initiated by the old woman. "Ah, ta-ta-ta, stop." There was another pause as she pointed at him, speaking up.
"You're lying to me. I can feel it in your heart. There's no sense saying any different." There was another moment of silence before she clarified what his true feelings might've been.
"You want total control of planet Earth. You're speaking in half-truths, doublespeak. The only way you believe they'll be safe, is if you have the power to micromanage every single person, operate every single weapon, and build every single company that influences these things." Bass looked off to the side. It wasn't as if he consciously knew what the witch was saying, but he felt no impulse to object either.
"That's a lot better than others of your kind, I'll have you know. Since your time with Piccolo Daimao, the Black Heart Namekians have only gotten more wicked and weaponized. Needless to say, you think that because one day you plan to have total control on Earth, giving someone something now won't make a difference in the end."
She wasn't wrong. That he was conscious about, hiring a select few independent Tuffles knowing full well if they sought to use his money for their heinous plans, he could crush them anyways. His eyes lingered down towards the table, where there was a cup of tea.
"Oho, I almost forgot my dear Bassy. This place is a coffee shop! Bwahahahaha!" She slapped her thigh, having a hoot over the dichotomy between the ominous location and the truthful service they provided.
Then, she became serious once more. "Once you do this, you'll be in a better position more than ever, and your actions may very well help or hurt the world. Yet I think that some day, they will hurt the world. They'll crush the ambitions of thousands that want to be great, they'll make others feel like they're meaningless when at the end of the day, you and you alone are trying to protect the world. Have you ever thought about that? You're a logical creature, you've only considered the facts, haven't you? More power, means less chance danger will threaten safety. Yes?" The witch confirmed, taking a sip of the tea that had appeared in front of her. Bass quietly took a sip of the coffee, bags under his eyes from the rapidly setting on mental exhaustion.
"Grandleuring and I, Granulo both came here today to try and in our own way, make Earth a better place. It is our own little attempt, our own little contribution. We think it might help you as a person grow and make wiser choices if..." There was a pause.
"If you know your greatest weakness." Bass had felt this coming on for some time now, taking another sip of coffee. He wasn't often the type to drink coffee all that much, but the situation demanded it.
In truth, he felt like he had a hunch on the answer deep down. Rejecting dozens of potential people, letting those close to him drift away. It only took three words from the witch to confirm the rapid personal reflection he was going through at the moment.
"You/I lack trust." She and he were right. He had seen so much, thought he was so qualified, and carried himself with so much pride that as a natural result he stopped trusting other people entirely. His boots were on the ground in West City building The Burrito Bass by hand for that very reason, but there were greater things than The Burrito Bass that were effected by this. His fight with Kiryu and the group fighting alongside him had the Namekian lose his temper when he was going to lose, was it because if he could lose to them, and he couldn't trust them to protect the Earth... He thought the world would end only in a matter of time? For so long, a simple three words held so much power. So many faces, so much potential. He should've followed up and made sure Cayle was doing his best, kept in touch with Kiryu, tried his best to steer Majin Zam in the right direction.
There was so much he could do, so many stories he could've built as opposed to ignored. Looking down at the murky brown coffee before him, he reflected. As if a result of this gesture, the liquid seemed to become a window to see events that'd transpired.
He remembered Silver Snow, the person he had doubted at first meeting. He never openly expressed it, but confirmation bias was powerful, he was looking for any possible indicators she was trying to enact evil. Maybe he was right, even, but sitting there and watching it, he felt like a Hero could've turned that evil into something- someone, just and kind.
Well, he couldn't change the past. He was no stranger to having to work on himself, he should be grateful for the opportunity to be self aware for once. Lifting his head up from the coffee, he'd take a drink and set it back down on the table before speaking.
"I mean. You know you're right, but it's now clear to me that so do I. I think... I don't let myself connect with others, because I'm afraid of what'll happen to them if I do and the world comes under threat. Villains are willing to do anything to get by, one just has to look at Piccolo Daimao to understand that- I lived in his reign, I experienced it." There was a sagely nod from the lady, she had been taking notes for around half a minute by this point.
"I understand. Well, I'm glad we could help you Bass, and I apologize for the rather sinister introduction you had to our comfy little home. Grandeurling isn't as normal as you and I, Demons are a versatile species after all. Nevertheless, we'll be departing and you'll find yourself with a cup of coffee in a tea shop, your final destination for the day. Also by the way I'd change your notes, it's actually called Morning Sip." She'd say with a sweet thumbs up. As if she had greater and grander things to accomplish, suddenly the Namekian was sitting on a stool in a perfectly ordinary looking coffee shop with a drink in front of him. Had... He didn't question the nuances of what'd occurred. He knew the best thing he could do was take the cliff notes in his future endeavors.
He needed to trust people more, even if he had good intentions, he hadn't until this point considered that his actions could have negative consequences. He was far too pragmatic to see that empathetic angle, and it explained why at the end of the day, he was always alone when he slept at night. Unlike the other places that were a lot more normal, the encounter with this witch seemed to have Bass sitting still at the end of it all brushing his hands against the coffee mug.
Did he continue with what he was doing, was it inherently evil? Was becoming stronger better for Earth, or was it born from harmful character traits? One side of him saw the value of his added power as invaluable in the fight against evil, but the side he'd been told about... He didn't want to destroy peoples dreams, he'd often thought his strength would inspire others.
If nothing else, these problems didn't require immediate acting on. He still needed to finish The Burrito Bass, to which he'd look up towards the employee. They looked like a part timer more than anything, and he'd consider raising his voice before quieting down again. The Burrito Bass wasn't going to be serving coffee or donuts, so it wasn't like it'd harm this establishment whatsoever, furthermore, jumbo ingredients couldn't really be used too much in coffee- technically it could've, but the process was wildly different than processing most other crops. He figured for once he could just stay quiet, and not rattle the cage to hear something in return.
Getting up, he'd set some zeni down as a tip to whoever felt like picking it up. He'd then make his way out of the building to see the sun starting to lower in the sky. Blinking slowly, he took in his surroundings from a different light. All of these people, immersed in their daily lives, but he'd just instant transmissioned from the Southern Islands- or flown, he couldn't even remember, and had gone to seven businesses unofficially to discuss his expansion plans. That wasn't the way... Society on Earth did things, was it?
No... It really wasn't. He didn't think it was inherently wrong, but he did see that it could be selfish. He had so many privileges, so many advantages that Humans and other creatures didn't. Some people struggled to get through each and every day, and as of a result of that if they saw someone like him with incredible power making what they suffered to achieve look trivial... What sort of damage could that do? He felt it to, he felt... Upset, that he hadn't noticed it sooner.
At some point he'd lost it, lost the magic. He used to get in his capsule car and drive to work, when did he start flying? He remembered rowing across the Southern Sea to get to the Southlands, but now he just... Appeared there. The magic was gone, rendering him at an impasse. He could either confine to Earth, or he could... enact World Domination. He'd been using his power to get an advantage in the world of Earthlings- not to be confused with the physical planet of Earth. He needed to do things by the books, and live things out just like an Earthling would.
Looking down towards the ground, he saw his own shadow casting to his side. Following it, the gentle breeze made the silhouette of his tie visible. What did the suit, the tie, represent? It was more than just style, once upon a time it was a symbol of common ground with Earth, when he saw himself as an outright monster.
And so, the Namekian reached up and... With an adjustment of his collar, pulled off his tie.
He would need to earn the right to do that again. He needed to learn to live in two different worlds. The world of Earth, and the world of Martial Arts.
Who knew making The Burrito Bass would lead to such a legendary revelation.
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Post by Bass on Jul 10, 2021 6:35:34 GMT -8
A day later, and Bass was tasked with a whole new can of worms. As he had discussed with the other executives of his company, he'd need to go to get the building permit issued manually. He was almost certain he knew what the bureaucratic plug was, someone not being comfortable with a place encouraging the inclusion of Martial Artists. It was no surprise that Bass's type was infamous for leaving destruction in their wakes, so much so that even if they don't intend to cause damage, they do. Naturally that is an insurance disaster and a lot of legal trouble. Whoever gives them the all clear to fully build up there is essentially taking partial responsibility if it being there accrues any damages that goes beyond Momentum Corporation assets. For that reason, Bass assumed there was a hold up at the office.
These things were typically issued by the town hall of a smaller town, but in this case West City was as the name implies, a little more than a simple town. He assumed it had a mayor, but what he was looking for in particular was a municipal office so he could get in touch with an agent that could coordinate with him. The Namekian was confident that with the right approach and caution, he could get things rolling again. It was refreshing to think that was the last hurdle he and his company would have to surpass before they could start physically putting up the structure. Well, them wasn't entirely correct. While Bass would be helping the contractors, he figured it would be wisest to hire contracted professional carpenters for the task, a smart move considering how structurally sound a place selling Burritos to Martial Artists was going to have to be.
Most of the time, the Namekian would just fly up into the air and coast over the city, but his recent reflection made him think differently. An average guy might take the bus, or a taxi. Or they'd have a car, something that Bass hadn't thought about since he'd just moved to North City. Even if it might've been more convenient, time efficient and expedient for him to just fly for twenty seconds, it wasn't quite... Beneficial to others. By hailing a taxi he paid his dues to society, and so the Namekian would start to figure out how to even contact one.
The only form of remote communication that he'd had access to was the Nameklann's built in rotary cell device. It was clunky and awkward to wield, but still served a purpose. With that not being the case, he would need to just hail one down- but that first meant actually spotting one. Given the street he was on was rather quiet- he'd need to go towards one of the busier junctions in the city. Walking down the sidewalk, he positively felt like a turtle. He'd forgotten what it was like to live life just like Earthlings- or rather, he'd gotten used to exploiting his power from his Martial Arts life to make his societal living more cushy and convenient at the unknowing cost of sacrificing the compassion and empathy that he often tried to portray.
Yet he was walking all the same, and several blocks down a steady line of traffic would be visible. Raising a hand and sticking a thumb up towards one of the taxi's once he got there, the vehicle would just drive on by. The windows were tinted, so he couldn't quite tell if it was actually full or if he'd gotten ignored. After all, in West City it was a lot more common for people to get jumpy over what he looked like, not to mention the fact that he was nearly seven feet tall. Eventually however, one of the taxi's would pull over for him, and he'd tuck himself in tight into the back seat with his head hunched forward.
Immediately, he felt like he could compromise by buying himself a custom car model and paying taxes on it. Just like he should live the Earthling life, he should suffer Earthling problems- feeling crushed and claustrophobic in a taxi was not one such thing. He'd raise his voice to tell the driver where to go.
"Nearest Municipal Office please." He'd say, getting a chipper response from the driver.
"Sure thing boss-man. I think the nearest one is at the corner of 8th and 9th..." He said, fidgeting with a device at the front of the vehicle. Letting out a hum, he'd then speak further.
"Yep, got it. That'll be three hundred and fifty zeni." Fairly expensive for a taxi ride, but he supposed this was normal, wasn't it? Handing over the zeni, the driver would redirect it into the glove compartment between the two front seats of the vehicle. Setting it down, the trip would start. Once he got accustomed to the tight spot and the driver generously suggested lowering the front passenger seat to give Bass some more breathing space, the trip became a lot more calm.
When did he forget about the things he was seeing? Grocery stores, clothing stores, couples walking and holding hands, a man eating an ice cream leaned up against a streetlight, the hustle and bustle of everyday life- not broad concepts, but feet on the ground and in the thick of it everyday life. Red lights, adjacent cars and stops and goes filled his trip as he slowly closed in on his destination. The driver's voice picked up, interested in making conversation.
"We're halfway there. Anyways pal, I gotta say I'm not sure I've seen your type around here much. You kinda look Namekian, I thought you were one of those Demons at first but, call it a calculated risk of a seasoned taxi veteran to let you ride." He said, hands on the wheel as he rounded a corner. Bass figured that was the reason he was being avoided, and it would no doubt keep being a problem until Piccolo Daimao and his armies were put to rest.
Bass raised his voice to respond. "Yeah I get that a lot. I uh.... Weird circumstances, but I'm not affiliated with those types really." He said, not being wrong unless he was talking about biologically. He had heard stories about how monstrous and grotesque the creatures coming from Piccolo Daimao's territory had been, and he was thankful he'd at least not suffered that fate. He couldn't say the same for all of the creatures whose souls were dedicated towards living that existence out in the end. Needless to say his answer seemed to satisfy the driver, who didn't really have too much else to talk about at first. Though a question did follow up eventually.
"What are you in West City for? Or do you live here?" He asked, giving Bass an opportunity to respond.
"I'm not a resident here, no. I'm here on business, my company is setting up a restaurant here. We're thinking it would be a good chance to provide specialized Southern Islands cuisine to Martial Artists, in addition to satisfying the needs of everyday customers." He said, quickly followed up by another question from the driver. "Oh, where at?"
"Uhm... About five blocks South from where you picked me up." Bass clarified, looking out the window as the vehicle went by various attractions.
"Ah, I think that's right around Appletoss Road. I actually have a cousin that works over there." He said. Bass realized that was the street name as it was spoken. "Ah, yeah, that's the street."
Appletoss Road, huh.
Breaking Bass's thoughts about the street name The Burrito Bass would be on was a comment on the topic of Martial Artists. "You said you were catering to Martial Artists yeah? Them lot's a ravenous bunch of lads. I'd be careful, but something tells me you might be one as well. I think it's the look and the bulging muscles that give it away." He said with a half smirk.
"Well, if that's what you're doing and you know what that life's all about then more power to you. We're about here by the way." He would say as they rounded one of the last two blocks before they'd reach the municipal office. Nodding his head as the driver glanced into the rearview mirror, the Namekian followed that up with a yawn.
"Well, thanks for the ride. Maybe you should stop by The Burrito Bass when it opens, I think it might be open in a couple weeks from now. Where it's going to be is just an empty lot at the moment, gotta build it first."
There was a nod from the driver. "From nothing to a restaurant in two weeks? That's a fast job." Was it, the Namekian thought? Mmn, maybe longer would be needed then. Nevertheless the car came to a rolling and then absolute stop right up next to the sidewalk.
"Anyways, here we are. Good luck and have a good day boss-man." He remarked, before the taxi door opened up to let Bass through. Climbing out as best he could without accidentally damaging the vehicle given his size, he'd stretch out before closing the door behind him with two taps on the roof to signify the driver he was out. "Have a good one!" Bass called out as the taxi began to sputter off into the urban maze of West City.
Turning around, the Namekian would look towards the building that loomed overhead. It was a dome in shape, with white letters on it saying 'West City Municipal Office'. When he went closer up to the building a smaller notice elaborated the address so it could be distinguished by its other counterparts dotted intermittently throughout the city. Moving up towards the door, they automatically slid open and let him into the lobby.
It had the smell and feel of a government building. Muted matte paints, an old rustic carpet pattern from a few generations ago, a plaque on the wall for some kind of business practice aware. For the most part it was empty save for a few people updating documentation or doing the same thing he was. Getting in line, he'd start waiting as he raised his watch. If he hadn't started working to improve himself, he might've been tempted to butt the other people in line.
Lifting his watch, the day was still young enough. The ride had taken about fifteen minutes, and at that point in the day it was around two thirty after the trip. The office would close around 5 o'clock, so he'd need to not get locked into anything too time consuming if he wanted any chance of completing it today.
Soon, the front desk was visible as other people finished their business and went to carry on with their days. Stepping up, the secretary would talk.
"Good afternoon sir, how can I help you?" She didn't seem all that surprised by his look, it figures that someone that worked from one of the core parts of the city saw all walks of life come through as they got essential documentation and legal requirements fulfilled.
"Thanks, hi-yeah. I'm here in regards to a building permit request my company submitted a month or so ago. We haven't heard anything back from the municipality yet, so I decided to come here and check in person." She'd nod, speak out.
"I'm sorry to hear that. Let me just take a look at our company registry. What is your companies name sir?" She asked, before Bass would respond.
"The Momentum Corporation." She found it fairly fast. A silence followed, broken by an. "Uh oh."
[1,947 words. 0 remaining.] [45,090 running total] [ENCORE! 4,500 words added to Stronghold plot due to Newsletter EP being used for Charentis instead.]
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Post by Bass on Jul 17, 2021 15:00:26 GMT -8
A silence overtook the room from the secretaries grim words, building suspense as to the reason for her concern. As the scene played out, she'd slide the file forward and point towards the entry regarding his company.
"It looks like the municipality has flagged your project as being a potential hazard." She'd say, running her finger over the red highlighted name of 'The Burrito Bass' written down.
Bass simply looked towards it, before a hand reached up to cover his face slightly as he thought about it. While he fished for and mulled the potential answers to the situation, he pitched a question towards her. "What does that mean exactly? Naturally even if it's a restaurant, it's a given it's going to be safe and sanitary." He mentioned with an offhanded gesture, prompting a slight curt nod from the woman.
"Right. Typically a building process is deemed hazardous extremely rarely. Typically it comes into play with large skyscrapers, like say... If a building would have a lightning rod that could draw in dangerous conditions. Technically speaking, it's used for any project that would be suspected to incite dangerous conditions and potential chaos. Is there anything regarding your plan that you think could cause this to happen?" She asked, but Bass was already two steps ahead on the answer. He'd let out a sigh, hand on the edge of the desk.
"My restaurant is going to cater to Martial Artists-" Immediately before he continued, the secretary let out an 'Ah' as if it being obvious that was going to be problematic. "-I figured there's a demand since they have large appetites, thought it would be productive for the area to reduce other infrastructural damage that incurs due to their involvement." He said, glancing off to the side.
She'd pull the file back and stash it away, taking out a notepad to write something down.
"These sound like some pretty unique circumstances. Could you confirm with me your name, contact number and company registration numbers? I'd just like to validate that everything's in order." She said, looking up towards him. The Namekian would share the technical information, and provide proof of Southern Islander identification. Giving it a look over, she'd smile warmly and speak further.
"Normally a hazardous condition leads to a denial of the permit, however your case is unique enough, and technically you're not promoting dangerous activities or trying to..." She paused for a moment, thinking of some of the wild business ideas that have come by her desk in the past. "-start natural disasters or something. Should've heard the idea for Tuesday Taco's in a Tornado." She shook her head, biting her lip momentarily while pulling out a sticky note pad.
"I'm going to give you this and call an inspector. Hopefully if all goes well, you'll be able to meet with them in our conference room to try to smooth over the situation." She'd dial up a number as she spoke, bringing the corded phone up to her ear and pinning it there with her shoulder as she finished writing the note for Bass.
"Hi, this is Cherry. I have a prospective business owner here that's been flagged and had their permit issuance suspended, but the particulars of his circumstance vary from our technical classifications of what reason we provided- at least from my understanding." She started, going silent as she heard back from whoever was on the other end of the line. Then she would continue, pulling up her other notepad that had the details Bass provided.
"His name is Bass, and he runs a corporation from the Southern Island called Momentum Corp. Mhm, he's looking to set up a restaurant here called The Burrito Bass." Bureaucratic rigidness absolutely steamrolled Bass's beautifully cooked up restaurant name pun. It seemed like neither her nor the person on the other end of the line registered it as Bass was hoping. Instead, her eyes widened after several moments- and just for a moment as well.
"Sure, of course. I'll let him know. Thank you for the assistance- yep, bye bye now." She pulled the phone out from the crook of her neck, plopping it back down on the receiver with a satisflying ca-clunk.
Quickly finishing up the note she'd slap it down on the counter facing Bass. "Here, this is the room number and floor you'll need to go for." She highlighted with her pen, elaborating further as the writing utensil hovered over a name. "Say you're here to meet with someone of this name if someone asked what you're doing up there. That all you need?" She confirmed from the Namekian, who spoke up.
"Uh- yeah. I think that's everything I need to get this thing moving. Thanks for all of the help, I appreciate it." He said, taking the note and moving around the front desk. She called over as he did so.
"Oh, to find the stairs you'll need to take a right two junctions down. We're planning on getting elevators eventually in this place, but at the same time I personally believe that's just an inside joke at this place by now. Also best of luck with your restaurant!" She called out as he waved whilst moving through a large doorway.
Walking down the grey carpeted hall, Bass looked towards he rather bland walls on both sides. A simple strip of differently colored paint added a tiny pinch of life to the otherwise dull and predictable design. Turning around the bend two junctions down as instructed, he'd see at the end of the hallway a staircase that went up and down. From looking down at his notepad, he knew he had to go to the third floor's conference room B, room number 308.
Walking up the steps, he'd hear a few conversations from employees on an afternoon break. Drinking coffee, they seemed to be chuckling and enjoying the momentary peace before they'd be put in the line of fire again dealing with nuanced requests like sending out people to stake out property, set property lines, the nuanced municipal stuff nobody ever talks about.
Making his way to the third floor, he'd note that it was a lot quieter at this level of the building. In fact, it seemed like a lot of the offices were dark despite it still being in the middle of the afternoon. Confirming this by checking his watch, he peaked his head around the bend to see absolutely nothing there either.
Honestly, given just the right atmosphere in just the right presentation, it could seem creepy. Silence aside from the buzz of a florescent lightbulb, muted browns and greys, and no people to be seen. Nevertheless the Namekian crept like he was walking on eggshells down the hall. 301... 303... 305... Looking across the way he'd spot 306 with 'Board Room 2' dangling from a small hook just above head level. Moving over towards it he'd peak through the glass to look into the room.
It was completely dark.
Thinking about going back and asking if the secretary wrote the wrong floor, he decided he'd try to wait it out and see if maybe the person or people he was going to meet just weren't here yet. Opening the door, the handle creaked before the hinges groaned as the wood door swung open dramatically. Tip toeing inside, he'd reach over and press down on a lightswitch, causing the bulbs at the ceiling to flicker repeatedly before finally coming to life in all of their florescent glory- long tubes inside a screen built in the ceiling.
Moving over towards the table, he'd pull out a chair. None of the furniture was dusty, so at least that much indicated that if it wasn't used much, it was at least cleaned regularly by whoever was the janitor in this place. Taking a seat at one of the sides of the table, he'd wait patiently whilst raising his wrist to look at his watch.
He'd be doing that several times over the next fifteen minutes, becoming increasingly anxious that he'd either been stood up or was inadvertently standing someone else up based on having the wrong directions. As fate decreed, it would only be when he was about to stand up to try and figure out what was going on that a figure passed by and noticed the movement- the light as well. Making a double take, they'd backpedal and push open the door.
"Hello? Who are you and what are you doing here? I've never seen you before." He seemed to be holding a stack of papers under one arm, with a cigar in his other. He was a little portly lad, and must've been a Human in his late fifties or early sixties, real big dad slash family man look to him.
"Uuh I was told to wait here by..." He fished for the name, it'd been around twenty minutes after their brief interaction after all. Snapping his fingers, he had the realization he was looking for. "Cherry. She told me someone would come up here to meet me regarding a discussion about the property I'm trying to get a building permit to?"
There was a silence from the man, before he let out a long sigh after taking a drag form his smoke. "Seriously? Come on..." He muttered, grumbling a bit. "I don't know why she told you to come up here, we have nothing to talk about." He said, looking towards Bass. The Namekian felt a bit of passive aggression, which was surprising considering even being a bigger guy, the man was still half of Bass's size considering just how tall the Namekian was.
Still, passive aggression was a challenge to the Namekian. "Really? It sounds like you were the one she was talking to, why would she lie like that?" He asked, prompting the man to have a bead of sweat form on his head.
"I don't know, she's full on crazy sometimes. Ugh, damn it all." He'd utter, pushing into the room and closing the door. Moving across the table from Bass, he'd drop the stack of papers under his arms down before dropping into the seat. He'd pull out of his pocket a little booklet for writing in, setting it down on the table and fishing out a pen from his vest.
"I've had a lot of experience working with your Martial Arts type, nothing ever good comes from it. You know we had to pay one hundred thousand zeni to refurbish a city block after a martial artist accidentally stumbled into a fire hydrant? The guy had no insurance plan, was from out of time from the sticks, and didn't have a single zeni or known relatives. We literally couldn't do anything, and he refused community service and just left town. There's no way we're able to restrain something like that without making some very expensive calls. That's just-." He raised a single finger. "-one thing your type has done to make our lives difficult."
"Ah, that puts things into perspective." Bass would say, leaning forward as he planted both arms on the table. This was serious. The guy had brought bias into a professional line of work, he was probably the same guy that'd started this roadblock in the first place. Splaying his fingers out, he'd form the power pyramid as both hands connected to form a great temple of confidence. These were the real time business tactics, exude confidence with body language.
"Look, I get it. I'm one of 'them', and as of a result I know what you're talking about. A lot of Martial Artists come from backgrounds unlike most people on Earth, great tragedy or outright strange circumstances. There needs to be a reason someone is willing to put fanatical devotion into becoming stronger, at least, usually." He took a moment to assess the guys body language, before continuing.
"The Burrito Bass being made with all precautions in mind. We'll have reinforced walls, chefs that can meet demand and the whole nine yards. The chaos Martial Artists get up to should be contained in there, and even then my company has a lot of policy regarding this particular establishments. There are a lot of nuances, but the most important thing for you to know is that I'm of the same cloth, I know how to manage fighters well enough so that the apocalypse shouldn't descend on West City. In fact, with the way I've framed things the area around the property should get a boost in customer traffic during our grand opening, at which point they may get a reliable group of customers that increase their profits.
Overall it's a net gain for the city." Bass affirmed, making eye contact with the man. Naturally in the dingy board room, the guy who'd never even touched a weapon with the intent to cause harm was a little intimidated by the pitch black eyes and glowing blue irises staring him down. The intensity alone was enough for him to divert his gaze, giving up ground in a psychological battle.
"Look. I get what you think you're doing a good thing, giving a small subset of people service that they're not normally privy to. Though you're actions are going to do more than just divert their presence in the city to your little business. Have you considered that your little company might be one of the first of its kind? What if Martial Artists in the West hear it? Or the North? Suddenly you got superpowered crazy people from all corners of the world converging on West City. That's going to hike up the costs involved in any indirect collateral damage they might cause during their stay here. Don't get me wrong, I wish we could help you, but I don't think it's in the best interest of the city." He said, causing Bass to grow a little more frustrated. This guy had experience, having bounced back from the Namekian's power play. Nevertheless persistence was key to victory, these things were a battle of attrition and persistence. Most people weren't actually incredibly passionate about their work in these fields, there would be a point where he was more personal trouble to the man than the problem was worth.
"Mmn... It depends. Most of the defenses against your point are circumstantial. The Martial Artists in the North are preoccupied with the war, for example. I do think you're missing one crucial fact. Martial Artists carry a reputation, and while they may cause problems here and there, I don't think anyone can deny that there's a certain fame about some of them. In fact, many of them appear in advertisements, TV Shows and Movies. What if all of those celebs started to frequent West City? The place is already home to Capsule Corp, but with celebrity attention the city would be getting even more profit from tourism in subsequent years. Of course, here's probably the hook line and sinker I'll offer."
Bass thought about if he should go through with it, the strumming of his fingers coming to a stop.
"What if The Momentum Corporation offered to cover half of the cost of any expenses accrued to do collateral damage in West City. More specifically, collateral damage that can be proven to be the result of a Martial Artist there and active because of The Burrito Bass." That was a mighty action, and the guy across the table immediately looked pushed up against the ropes. He'd suddenly interject.
"No no no, don't be ridiculous haha, that's- the city couldn't accept something like that." He said while looking off to the side. The continued intensity, seriousness and weight behind Bass's claims were breaking down the man's resolve to stand by what was ultimately a prejudice against the unrealistically mighty. Staring the man down, there was a long pause as the pressure mounted. Suddenly the tension gave out as he put out his cigarette.
"Ack, fine, do whatever. You don't need to do that, you made a fair enough point with the tourism thing, it should all just work out. Every force has an equal and opposite reaction or whatever that law of physics is. Ahem, right. I'm just going to void the suspension of your permit. If you wait around for..." He looked up at the clock mounted in the conference room, "Fifteen or so minutes down in the lobby, I'll be able to talk with Cherry and we can get it for you. Of course, you'll then be subject to all of the normal procedures after that point, but that's no longer my problem or my jurisdiction.
I think the next inspector you'll be seeing is a health inspector when you plan to open your restaurant. Great talk, awesome talk buddy." He said, a nervous smile gracing his features as he reached a hand forward for a handshake. He was being a little sarcastic, the conversation was way too intense, he needed a raise to deal with that kind of backflack. He'd always been a rather evasive individual, his approach to handling the problem originally was to essentially ghost Momentum Corp.
In that line of thinking, he rescinded his hand quickly. He didn't want to be going to the hospital with a shattered hand. "Hopefully we don't need to talk again, ahahaha!" And he was gone, the door to the conference room shutting behind him as he fast walked to get away from it all.
Bass leaned back in his chair, checking the time. It was around three in the afternoon, meaning he wouldn't be out of here until at least quarter past if he was to trust the guys words. He didn't even get an introduction in hindsight, but it seemed like their conversation picked up fast enough that there wasn't room for them.
Regardless, he made his way back down to the lobby. Reaching it, he'd look towards Cherry and recall that supposedly he wasn't even supposed to be having that meeting? She just seemed to smile towards him. Cheeky, the Namekian thought, but it was mainly because of her that this went as smoothly as it did. She'd already heard from the inspector, and spoke up towards Bass.
"Your permit should be available in a little bit, it's currently being processed through our databases. We need to revoke the suspension first, so that's why it's taking a little longer than usual. Just take a seat and read a newspaper or something." She suggested, pointing over towards the chairs.
As he headed over, his head would turn back towards her. "Thanks, by the way." All he got in response was a small and honestly rather adorable thumbs up paired with a mischievous smile.
He took his seat, instead opting to just lean his head against the wall behind him. Shutting his eyes, he'd take a quick nap as something of a break considering how slow things felt like they were going. He was more tired than he'd thought- mentally exhausted to be specific, as he actually fell asleep instead of just resting his eyes.
It would be some time before he was woken up, hearing a vague 'sir, sir' in the distance. Adjusting as his eyes focused, he saw the secretary hailing him over. Shaking his head he'd get up and mosey on over, leaning against the counter slightly to hear what she had to say.
"Okay, so good news. Here you go." She said, handing over all of the required documentation and items. "In addition, we've faxed the permit over to The Momentum Corporation in South City, so you should have it accessible there in the event that you lose the physical copies. Okay, is that everything then?" The Namekian gave a small nod of his head.
"Yeah, that's everything. Thank's for all of your help, Cherry." He said. There was a silent pause, before the Namekian strummed the counter and stood back up fully.
"Well, I need to head back to the Southern Islands. Perhaps I'll swing by again sometime in the future." He said, giving a wave as he walked off. He felt like there was a connection there. The sun was still as bright as ever, but the rest of his day was going to play out differently than he'd thought it would when he started this whole venture.
In part of the change he was making in abiding more by societal practice to achieve societal goals, Bass couldn't just instant transmission or fly home. Well, he would be flying home, but not with ki or any of his super developed technology. He was going to book a ticket like any other person would when they wanted to go on vacation, but instead he'd be coming home from... Kind of one? It was all work, but he found himself getting increasingly engrossed in the tiny details as he forcefully grounded himself more.
He'd take the taxi, the details of the ride spared as he ended up at the airport. Typically he'd prepare a ticket ahead of time, but he didn't have access to any terminals at the time. Moving into the large structure, he'd book his flight and... Huh. Once the technicalities were sorted, he felt himself a little floored again by the grandeur of it all. Things that felt like an after thought had so many details, so many nuances. People of all walks of life moved around the airport, a sea of people all living and functioning in Earth's society. Bass was so immersed in it that he failed to notice the fact that the sea of commuters were giving him a large berth in their movement, but when he did realize he knew it was simply because he was a Black Heart Namekian.
The flight home was... More peaceful than he could've imagined. Being in the cabin of the airplane gave him almost absolute silence and complete comfort. He got to watch the clouds roll by, the blue sky slowly turn dark, the stars become visible through the atmosphere. Like a child with a new toy, he was fascinated by the sights he'd never experienced in this fashion before- it was the first time Bass had ever actually employed a standardized form of traveling to different lands. Though he couldn't compromise so far as to not get first class, he was bit enough that he'd have taken up multiple seats anyways.
So instead he had the privilege of sitting on almost something of a bed within a cubbyhole near the front of the plane. A small glass of... Well, water sat next to him instead of the wine they normally served- he wasn't a fan of alcohol. Other than that, he got to even enjoy a couple meals over the course of the six hour long flight.
He'd land at eleven PM. It gave him a strange sense of nostalgia- despite never having done something like it before. He figured it could because there was once a time he would've, but then he became powerful enough to just fly or instantly teleport wherever he wanted to go on Earth. Grabbing the luggage he'd brought with him from a conveyor belt, he'd hail a taxi and give the driver his address.
Just shy of midnight he got home. Poetically, for the first time in years he would unlock the front door of the house with the key hidden within the mailbox. Pushing it open, he'd be greeted by Icey jumping from her seat on the couch and taking a fighting stance, only to see it was him. Going through the front door was that uncharacteristic for the Namekian, prompting a response from her.
"Wow, I don't think you've used that door in at least two years. About time." She said as she relaxed, dropping back into the couch to continue watching late night TV.
Smirking slightly, he'd approach the couch and drop down into it as well. "Yeah, I found something that I think I lost." He said, resting an arm over the back of the couch as he looked to see what Icey was watching.
"PCN? Nice." Is what he said. Having already rested up plenty in the plane ride here, he just wanted to spend some quality time with his roommate while catching up on TV.
The next morning was the final move required for The Burrito Bass. He'd found something he lost again, a thing that happened more often than he liked to admit with how fast he moved. Now in the conference room, he was presenting his executives with a virtually designed model of The Burrito Bass.
"Alright. So this is the final design we came up with. Fifteen thousand square feet, seven thousand dedicated to the eating floor, seven thousand dedicated to cooking space and one thousand dedicated to our loading bay that'll be taking in processed jumbo ingredients. We'll have a small connected block at the back of the building containing raw ingredients.
As for the spaces themselves." Bass said as he moved a pointer to a close up image. "We're going for something comfortable and relaxing for the eating space. Closed spaces so groups can have their privacy- eating big can be humiliating sometimes. We'll have a couple of massive tables in the center that are shielded like the rest, large enough to have our Tyrant Burritos served on them. Brown tight carpeting, metal reinforced wood coated tables, and chairs with a lot of cushioning made of the best material we can get our hands on. We're going to also go with an overhead light. I wanted to do a chandelier, but that was deemed to be too delicate based off our calculations of what could happen there.
Instead we have and powerful warm light providing modest exposure to the entire room, giving a moody orange atmosphere when paired with the enclosed eating spaces." He said, pointer then moving up towards the border between the eating area and the counter.
"Here's our counter space. I'll likely be hiring a non-monster for this job so people don't get intimidated, but after a while if that person quits I won't have a preference. The menu itself will be visible above the counter on a lit up board, updating real time based on changes to ingredient supply or item shortages. Classic fast food approach, one thing I'll note is this." He shifted to a diagram on the diagram, dia-ception.
"This here is our comparison chart. Not to scale, these show relative to each other how large they are. The smallest is the standard, and each size basically compares how large they are compared to that." He'd clarify, before the pointer moved further up in the blueprint.
"The cooking area will need to be just as spacious as the eating one. We're going to be getting big customers, and we'll have big workers." He'd continue to hammer out the details of The Burrito Bass.
And so another story would come to a close.
The Namekian's journey to give great food, no compromising.
[4,514 words. 0 remaining.] [49,604 running total] [The Burrito Bass Arc is complete. Level 7 stronghold construction written out. +25% Thread Gains, +7 Central Lands reputation.]
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