Dragon Ball Z: Paradise Found

Middle Life Crisis

A hovercar let out the howl of an abused, overfed dog as it turned around in a drastic 180. A bald head, covered up by a large and wavy white Panama hat, peeked through the window. Krillin's eyes had been wide to where they tested the integrity of the vessels keeping them in their sockets, while his jaw had nearly reached the same ground that his bargain sale car hovered over.

"Chayote?" Krillin bawled out and jumped out of his car to land right beside a bored young woman who was smoking outside by the door to a skyscraper tangled in a network of monorails all the way from its center to the top floor. "Didn't expect to see you here! It's been years! Are you smoking?"

"Huh? Yeah, blame it on Bulma, the lab's always been smoky so I kind of had no other choice but to pick up the habit..." Chayote pulled out the cigarette from her mouth, stared at it for a few seconds before pinching it thirty-two meters away to the nearest trash can. "Are you gonna get all over my ass about it, or did you want one?"

"Heh, I guess some of Bulma rubbed off on you in these last three years, huh?" Krillin giggled all by himself and took off his hat to remind the world of his bald head as it reflected the rays of May's sunlight in concentrated beams of pure flash. "I was gonna say that it's a major health risk. Cigarettes are responsible for well over 840 000 deaths in West City alone yearly. In fact, second-hand smoking alone kills 32 000 people every year. It's way worse in places that can't afford groundbreaking medical treatment."

"Yeah, well, working for Bulma may have introduced me to it, but it was my own job that nailed it in for me. Who knew managing a private military was such a pain in the ass?" Chayote rubbed her neatly kept hairdo, forcing a handful of disobedient spikes to stick out from her sleek knotted bun. "When I signed up for it, I sort of expected to do a bunch of fighting but nobody told me that people I hire will have to do the fighting for me..."

"Heh, I guess so..." Krillin giggled, pressing his hat to his oversized suit of matching colors. "Have you ever thought that maybe Bulma suckered you in with empty promises just so she could get you to work for her for a few years?"

"Wouldn't be surprised if that's the case..." Chayote sighed. She took off her neat glasses and blew into them before placing them back.

"Do you have problems with your eyesight? I figured Saiyans would take longer to encounter those than humans, if at all. Also, doesn't just staining your glasses make it harder for you to see?" Krillin scratched his cheek as he raised a meek finger to point it out.

"Oh? Those? No, I don't need them. It's just what humans wear to work to look professional. Bulma said that it actually helps and, whatever her intentions were bringing me up to this lifestyle, she wasn't wrong. I've been dismissed from a military tribunal case I would have lost a ton of money in settlements in if I didn't show up in glasses." Chayote pointed out.

"I sure hope you don't drive or fly in those..." Krillin squinted. "Over 320 000 thousand people each year around the world die in hover car-related accidents, that's not included deaths from hover cars plummeting and burning up before they reach the ground or hovercars colliding with monorail tracks causing a bi-vehicular calamity."

"What are you a socialist now?" Chayote scratched her neatly made hair in irritation, making an even bigger mess of it.

"I believe you meant a sociologist, also no, I sell life insurance." Krillin fixed his loose tie, making a face that suggested that he was either very proud of his profession or was incredible at convincing himself he was proud of it.

"That... Actually checks out..." Chayote sighed. "I haven't really stayed in touch with anyone but Bulma and my work partners. After my first company collapsed, starting it all from scratch was really time-consuming. It's just... There's a threat that I could rip apart with my bare hands right before me but instead, I have to hire mooks and equip them with the right gear for the job..."