Post by Vi-Poi on Feb 5, 2015 3:49:15 GMT
Vi-Poi wasn't sure what to do next. Since leaving his electrical prison behind he became directionless. He instantly discovered that flying around the West Capitol naked was a quick way to draw unwanted attention, and his personality subroutines didn't like unwanted attention, so the first thing he did was snatch some clothes off of a terrified passerby, a tailored black suit that looked like it belonged to a funeral director or a secret agent. He rather liked the style, and thanked the shivering and frail old man before zipping off into the sky.
Vi-Poi didn’t fly around after that either, though it was a much more efficient mode of travel. There were too many gawkers and pointers when he did that. Instead he used his feet, like Poi would have done, moving along the sidewalk, careful not to bump into any fragile humans.
His Red Ribbon data files had good basic information on magic, but its information on the Dragon Balls was over two thousand years old. He needed to find an extensive knowledge resource on the cutting edge of the arcane, but he didn't know where to start. Everyone he passed was barely registering in the single digits on his built-in scouter, making them unlikely candidates for the Being of Magical Power category.
Finding the Dragon Balls was important. It was, as the Red Ribbon Army would have labeled, MISSION CRITICAL. Vi-Poi needed to find the Dragon Balls, and to make everything right again with the Three Wishes the Eternal Dragon would bestow. Shoving his hands in his jacket pockets he turned down Park Street, the bustling and honking thoroughfare lined with bulbous Capsule Corporation vehicles and glittering buildings.
Something like Fate soon stopped him in his tracks. An advertisement hung in the glass window display of a small merchant’s building he was astride.
Need Answers? The small flier asked. Ask the Super Psychic!
“Super Psychic?!” Vi-Poi exclaimed in amazement, his jaw dropping. A hurrying workaday commuter knocked into him before falling flat, and a few people turned to give him odd looks. The worker looked shocked to find the rigid lamppost he must have walked into was actually a small young man, but quickly grumbled his way to his feet and hurried on by.
Vi-Poi leaned forward, examining the poster critically. Below the words was a picture of what must be the Super Psychic herself, an old and portly woman, her craggy features swallowed in shadow by the eclipsing brim of a witch hat. She wore a mysterious grin and had a wise twinkle in her eye.
This must be a being of immense magical power, Vi-Poi thought excitedly.
Below the grand image at the bottom border of the poster was the promise: Satisfaction Guaranteed!!!
“That’s it!” Vi-Poi cheered, drawing more looks from pedestrians before he snatched the flier from the window and dashed down the sidewalk towards the listed address. Surely the Super Psychic would know where to find the Dragon Balls!
It wasn't such a hard place to find, but when Vi-Poi arrived at the Super Psychic’s surprisingly-cramped and cluttered office perched atop a bustling ramen shop, he was distressed to find out from a very grumpy secretary that the Super Psychic wouldn't meet him unless he could produce five Zeni.
“But I don’t have any money.”Vi-Poi said, flabbergasted.
“Well, you’ll just have to go get some then. The Super Psychic doesn't do charity cases.” The bored Zoanthrope flatly said, slurping another chopstick-load of ramen into her snout while browsing the contents of a thick magazine. The cover read Top Twenty Celebrity Fashion Disasters.
Vi-Poi didn't have any money, but he did have access to plenty of old Red Ribbon files on how to gain it quickly.
“I see. Do you know where the nearest bank is?” Vi-Poi asked politely.
The secretary glared up at him with yellow jackal eyes. “Down on the corner of Ginger Street, across from the Fire Brigade.”
“Thank you.” Vi-Poi said, rushing back down the steps and sprinting towards the bank.
The bank was just where the secretary said, housed at the base of an immense office tower clad in pearly white windows and gridiron. Busy-looking people hustled in and out of its wide double doors, but the tellers inside seemed to handle everyone with a crisp and calculated efficiency, forcing them into fast lines and slow lines before handing them money or receipts and sending them on their way. It vaguely reminded Vi-Poi of the way he would organize the corrupted and collapsing empire of data file hierarchies back when half of him lived in the Red Ribbon mainframe, constantly sorting what could be moved quickly into a file dump and what had to be carefully groomed and maintained before being nudged along into another format.
Vi-Poi stepped aside for a man who was clutching onto a teetering tower of paper-laden folders, then walked briskly into the bank. His algorithms quickly found the fastest line, which he waited in for a few minutes before being greeted by a friendly teller.
“Hello, how may I help you?” The teller asked, beaming.
“Hello!” Vi-Poi said in response to his greeting. He liked this teller and his friendly disposition, Vi-Poi decided. “Where is your vault?” Vi-Poi asked, surveying the bank with a keen blue-eyed gaze.
“Th- the vault?” The teller asked, face contorting in befuddlement. A small smile came back onto his face. “Ah, I see, do you want to sign up for, or access a security deposit box? You’ll have to speak with our branch manager, but I can set up an appointment right away.” The teller peered down at a computer screen, fingers busily clacking along.
“No, no.” Vi-Poi said, waving a hand. “I’m here to rob the bank.” He explained. “You don’t need to type anything.” He said reassuringly after taking note of the teller’s blood-drained face.
The Red Ribbon Army’s operation files clearly stated that robbing banks was the quickest way to gain Zeni, and though there were vague overviews of how to go about it, there wasn't much subset information.
“Can you tell me how to best go about robbing this bank?” Vi-Poi asked. “I know I have to go into the vault. That’s where all of the Zeni is kept, right?”
“I… I…. I…” The teller stuttered.
Vi-Poi crinkled his brow. “Don’t get stuck in an infinite loop on me! I need that Zeni, so I can meet the Super Psychic!”
“Okay!” The teller squeaked. Several of the other bank customers had gone silent, and were staring at the both of them in shock.
“It’s alright, you all can keep typing.” Vi-Poi said to the tellers. “And you all can keep moving in your fast and slow lines.” He told the customers. “I’m just here to rob the bank.” Many of the customers suddenly turned and ran for the doors, and some began inexplicably shrieking. Vi-Poi cast a sideways glance to the bank teller and shrugged his shoulders, confused.
Vi-Poi knew that barring a dramatic change in the criminal code over the centuries bank robbery was still illegal. The Red Ribbon operation files noted that several Mercenary Clan leaders had been arrested and condemned by law enforcement for such activity in the past, but why was it also terrifying to people? He wasn’t doing anything to them, just stealing piles Zeni, which he was almost certain didn’t haves thoughts or feelings like humans did.
“Thank you for making this bank robbery an efficient process.” Vi-Poi said as the teller led him into toward vault.
The teller gulped audibly and nodded, stopping in front of a large gleaming silver disk embedded in the wall. “Here is the vault.” The teller said. After swiping his hand across a scanner and tapping in a series of numbers on a keypad, the door slowly swung open. The vault’s interior was a brick-lined cuboid filled with small metal drawers and metal cages stuffed to the top with white sacks.
“The Zeni bills are in those sacks, right?” Vi-Poi asked as he entered the vault, twisting his mouth in thought.
Suddenly, the vault door slammed shut behind him. The teller had fled and sealed the vault behind him.
“Hmph. The efficient teller must have panicked just like all the others.” Vi-Poi surmised, taking a few of the sacks in one hand before walking back to the vault door. He pushed a hand against the steel, and it groaned and vibrated violently under the strain.
The vault door was a product of proud engineering, and would take more strength to open, Vi-Poi decided.
He pulled his arm back and then delivered a full-force punch to the vault. It crumpled inward with a high octave screech and crashed to the ground in front of him, lifting much dust into the air. Vi-Poi slung the money sacks over one shoulder and stepped gingerly around the ruined vault door and past the cowering teller to the outside. The street and sidewalk were rapidly emptying and a beetle-shaped police car hovered in front of the bank.
Two police officers in brown uniforms had their guns drawn. One was a foxlike Zoanthrope, the other a larger but out-of-shape human. Both of their grips on the weapons were trembling, very slightly.
“Hands up!” The foxlike officer shouted. Vi-Poi turned his large blue eyes back to the officer after giving the area a cautious scan for ki and coming up with only these two weak lifeforms.
“Hello.” Vi-Poi said. “I don’t want to fight or be arrested by either of you.”
“Hands UP!” The foxlike officer bellowed. “Get down on the ground!”
“I’m sorry to ruin your efficient arrest, but I have to go meet the Super Psychic.” He turned and started walking back towards the ramen shop, money sacks still slung over one shoulder.
The frumpy human officer holstered his gun and decided to charge Vi-Poi, drawing a nightstick from his belt. Vi-Poi watched with interest as the stick came slamming down and crashed against the top of his azure-haired head.
The club shivered into pieces.
Vi-Poi carefully lifted the policeman by his extended wrist, whose hand was still clutching to the shattered end of his nightstick. “You are deceptively quick for one so lumpy.” He said, complementing the policeman. “But your technique needs much sharpening.” Vi-Poi added, deciding honesty was best in this scenario. The man reached into his belt and sprayed a mist of some sort of organic-irritant into Vi-Poi’s pale face.
Vi-Poi analyzed it. “It’s some kind of plant resin.” He remarked. “That is a more interesting technique, but I’m afraid I don’t need to breathe, or taste things.” He informed the officer, before tossing him several yards back into his patrol car. He did it slightly harder than average human parameters could apparently withstand, as the landing caused the hood of the car to crumple inward and the policeman to lose consciousness.
The foxlike officer, who had at first seemed so efficient, was now wavering as terror took hold.
He hazarded a glance at his incapacitated partner sprawled upon the cratered hood, gun still pointed straight at Vi-Poi.
“This is your final warning, whatever you are!” The foxlike officer yelled, voice quivering with nerves.
Vi-Poi raised his hand goodbye and kept walking.
The officer began to unload his clip at Vi-Poi, shots ringing in the air. There were ten bullets in total fired in quick succession. The first few shots went wide of Vi-Poi, but as the officer’s burst of gunfire continued, the shots tightened into a more accurate trajectory. Vi-Poi’s free hand blurred out, and he deflected each bullet with a raised index finger. He caught the last and brought it up to his eyes, studying it closely.
“Bullet technology hasn’t changed much.” He observed, before letting the tiny round cone of metal fall to the ground.
Vi-Poi had underestimated the efficiency of the foxlike officer. The Zoanthrope policeman had mastered his fear and hurriedly exchanged clips, firing a new volley straight at him. This Vi-Poi decided to deflect as well, but to his chagrin one of the ricochets off of his finger sliced a bullet across the cuff of his jacket.
Vi-Poi’s blue eyes widened. “You shot my suit!” He yelled, grinding his teeth in anger. He’d have to extend his innate protective barrier outward to his suit from now on.
The other officer was waking now, yelling for his partner to flee and wait for more reinforcements. Such a display of selfless friendship soured Vi-Poi’s mood further, and he heard approaching sirens in the distance. More friends of theirs to shoot Vi-Poi’s new suit.
Where was Vi-Poi’s friend? Dead and gone, just like his suit almost!
The efficient foxlike officer had ignored his partner’s warnings, and was bravely circling around his damaged vehicle, loading another clip and pointing that hateful suit-slaying sidearm back at Vi-Poi.
“You two are friends, huh? Go to hell!” Vi-Poi growled, smashing a blurring fist down into the pavement, causing the ground to shake and ripple, a fissure tearing in the asphalt. The Zoanthrope officer tripped and fell flat on his face.
Vi-Poi flew away, heated at the entire situation.
He landed at the ramen shop, where more people gasped and pointed. He sighed, annoyed, but made a determined path up the stairs with all of his new Zeni. The secretary was working on a new bowl of steaming ramen and reading a new magazine which featured a winking model and had One Hundred Ways to Wear Cutoffs printed on the cover.
The secretary didn’t look any less bored at this new magazine’s fivefold increase in fashion data points.
Vi-Poi decided to lighten his bad mood so as not to ruin the chance at an audience with the Super Psychic.
“Hello.” Vi-Poi offered in greeting.
The jackal-faced Zoanthrope did not look up. “Hello.” She responded sourly after a long moment had passed.
“I’ve got the Zeni.” Vi-Poi said, thumping the heavy sacks down on the desk. “I estimate that this should be more than enough to meet with the Super Psychic for as long as I require.”
The Zoanthrope peered up from her magazine, confused. When the contents of the sacks dawned on her she leapt from her chair. “What is that? Bags full of money?!” She yelled, horrified.
Vi-Poi nodded. “Yes. I know you are a stern gatekeeper to those who would use your mistress’s magical talents, so I made sure to bring a lot of Zeni in hopes that it would ensure an audience.”
“Are you insane?” Sirens began to whir over the background din of the outside city. “You robbed that bank? There is no magic here, you idiot! The Super Psychic just tells people what they want to hear!”
Vi-Poi tilted his head in askance, pulling out the flier from his jacket pocket. “I think you’re mistaken. Your flier says ‘satisfaction guaranteed’, and relates that the Super Psychic will be able to guarantee that satisfaction in answering all questions asked with her Super Psychic abilities.”
The sirens were getting louder. “Are those police?” The secretary gasped. “They’re going to put you in jail, you lunatic! Don’t you understand what I’m saying? There is no real Super Psychic.”
Vi-Poi hung his head in defeat. His fingers curled around the poster in anger, crumpling it in his grasp. “You… you lied.” He said, lean synthetic muscles quaking with rage.
He could hear the sirens blaring now. The police were outside, and something fluttered loudly in the air above them. The secretary looked positively frightened now, but Vi-Poi ran back down the stairs, leaving the bags of Zeni and slamming the door behind him, causing the front of building to fracture and sag with pieces of its façade raining down.
How would he ever find out about the Dragon Balls if everyone who might offer knowledge might also be a liar?
Police were lined in a semi-circle around the exterior of the ramen shop. A helicopter buzzed overhead, with two bomb-tipped missiles on them. Vi-Poi calculated the missiles’ explosive yields as powerful enough to do only minor and non-critical damage to his body, should they hit him. Still, there was his suit to think about.
“Suspect: get down on the ground.” A deep voice boomed from the helicopter’s loudspeaker. “Do not move.”
Vi-Poi would have admired all of their coordinated efficiency, if he wasn’t so pissed.
He waved the crumpled flier at them. “Hey, police!” He yelled, jabbing an accusing hand back at the building. “These assholes are tricking people into thinking they have a Super Psychic! They say satisfaction guaranteed, but I’m not satisfied one bit! Arrest them for fraud!”
The police did not move towards the building to arrest the bored secretary and her dishonest boss. Instead, the helicopter repeated the order for Vi-Poi to get down on the ground.
“Damn!” Vi-Poi muttered, shaking his clenched fist in frustration.
The police suddenly began to fire. Vi-Poi flew up quickly, easily avoiding the hail of lead. Hovering in front of the helicopter, Vi-Poi knocked on the glass of the cockpit, leaving hairline cracks along the translucent shell.
“Can’t you read?” He demanded of the pilot, sticking the flier flat against the glass. The pilot didn’t respond but pulled hard on his control column and sent the helicopter veering back and circling higher.
His heightened senses could make out the sound of locks unlatching in the missile bays.
Vi-Poi hmphed, folding his arms in displeasure.
The two missiles fired at him simultaneously, tails of thick billowing smoke streaming behind them as they coiled around one another like snakes. Vi-Poi accessed his reactor’s energy reserves and extended an arm forward, palm raised.
The missiles were a direct hit, causing a tremendous fireball. The pressure wave the explosion caused shattered the windows of some nearby office towers. The cloak of black smoke covering Vi-Poi slowly wafted away, revealing the android to be unphased by the blast. He could hear the exclamations of disbelief emanating from below.
“Is that all?” Vi-Poi asked, waving smoke away from his face with one hand, his other still extended. “I will show you a more impressive technique.” He told the helicopter, charging and firing a ball of ki energy towards the vehicle. The pilot tried to maneuver out of the way, but the tail of the helicopter was struck and erupted in a violent fiery veil of flames. The helicopter began to spin out of control, and smashed into the street below, forcing some of the officers to leap out of the way.
Vi-Poi sullenly folded his arms across his chest once more and flew away at his top speed, the sonic boom he created shattering more windows. As he rose above the clouds over the bay he was glad to be rid of the pesky police, but he was also perplexed by his lack of success in finding out more about the Dragon Balls. Could it be that in this era, there was less magical knowledge? He would have to assume a broad range of possibilities until he discovered more information on the subject.
His brooding was interrupted by a substantial spike of energy on his scouter. A rotund robot erupted through the clouds ahead of him. A red siren strobed on top of its domed head, giving the robot a slightly ridiculous quality.
“Halt!” The robot buzzed, boxy fists on its large metal hips. A police star was emblazoned across its chest around a Capsule Corporation logo. “You have violated several municipal laws. You are subject to arrest and prosecution.” The robot informed him.
Vi-Poi focused his built-in scouter on the robot. Its fighting strength was trifling.
“Get out of my way, you inefficient bucket of bolts.” Vi-Poi said, firing a disinterested wave of ki at the robot. The robot moved its accordion arms in a wavelike fashion as it slid its body along those limbs and out of the way, avoiding the stream of energy.
Vi-Poi hmphed. “Going to make your dismantling difficult?” He asked.
The robot’s domed head made a complete revolution as it scanned the surroundings. “It is you that will be dismantled, perpetrator.” The robot posited, extending its boxy hands, revealing two circular energy ports on its square-shaped palms.
Small discs of ki energy pulsed out of the ports, reaching Vi-Poi at a fast rate. He growled, shielding himself with his arms and knees as the packets of energy washed over him in a barrage. He could smell his suit beginning to singe.
It didn't end there. The robot insisted on taking matters further when it found that Vi-Poi wasn't damaged by this paltry initial attack, and flew towards him, swatting at the azure-haired android with its extendable arms and legs. Vi-Poi drew from his extensive martial arts database and was effortlessly able to parry and block the blurring metallic assault, but the annoying jabs from the clunky computer was scuffing up his jacket sleeves and pants legs even further.
Vi-Poi dodged its next punch and twirled his body about, delivering a hard roundhouse kick to the side of the robot, causing one side of its large hips to dent inward, the impact flinging it far down towards the clouds. The robot stopped itself from falling with a steamy burst of air jets from its feet, and turned its big body back to face Vi-Poi.
“Face it, you are outclassed. You cannot win against a better system. It’s pure mathematics.” Vi-Poi advised, fixing his thin black tie and pulling the knot up to his throat. “I do not think you’ll like the junkyard they will put you in, if you continue this line of behavior.” He warned.
The robot said nothing in response, only extending its arms again and firing more pellets of ki energy.
“That’s it, you moronic machine!” Vi-Poi yelled, soaring above the torrent of ki.
Vi-Poi glared contemptuously down at the robot, reaching back with his arms before extending both hands flat as he powered up. He focused a great amount of his reactor reserves into his palms, creating a dense black sphere of ki which crackled off forking bolts of darkness under the stress of inflation. “Meet my idiot buster, courtesy of the Red Ribbon Army.” A peal and whistle of energy audibly filled the air as he charged the attack.
“Chasing Extinction Bullet!!!” Vi-Poi shouted, firing the dark orb at the robot.
The robot gave a start of surprise and looked up at the attack, its accordion arms undulating in a sinuous pattern once more as it slid out of the way of the fast-approaching sphere of powerful ki. The dark Bullet however was not so easily dodged, and after shooting past the robot it quickly changed direction to smash into the unsuspecting robot’s rear.
A bright white flash lit the sky was followed by a great boom and howl of wind as a spewing geyser of melted gears and small bits of machinery marred the white fluffy clouds below. The robot had been utterly disintegrated by the attack.
Vi-Poi hmphed at the robot’s easy demise and floated down through the clouds, slowly spiraling towards the frothy surface of the bay. He plunged inside the waters, letting them cool his hot circuitry. He would rest here and recharge, he decided. He wouldn’t be detected by any police down here, and given all of the problems the world seemed to be having, he was sure they would soon move on to other crises and calamities.
Vi-Poi sank down further, until he was at the shadowy bottom of the bay. He would have to think of a new way to search for the magic of the Dragon Balls. Perhaps if he found powerful beings, they could advise him best on how to proceed? He extended the range of his built-in scouter to its maximum limit, seeking out strong lifeforms. He was shocked to discover that Earth was populated by many powerful beings, several far stronger than him.
Vi-Poi lifted his arms in triumphant joy, startling a passing fish. “Surely with their help, I can find the Dragon Balls!” He gurgled, beaming happily.
Vi-Poi didn’t fly around after that either, though it was a much more efficient mode of travel. There were too many gawkers and pointers when he did that. Instead he used his feet, like Poi would have done, moving along the sidewalk, careful not to bump into any fragile humans.
His Red Ribbon data files had good basic information on magic, but its information on the Dragon Balls was over two thousand years old. He needed to find an extensive knowledge resource on the cutting edge of the arcane, but he didn't know where to start. Everyone he passed was barely registering in the single digits on his built-in scouter, making them unlikely candidates for the Being of Magical Power category.
Finding the Dragon Balls was important. It was, as the Red Ribbon Army would have labeled, MISSION CRITICAL. Vi-Poi needed to find the Dragon Balls, and to make everything right again with the Three Wishes the Eternal Dragon would bestow. Shoving his hands in his jacket pockets he turned down Park Street, the bustling and honking thoroughfare lined with bulbous Capsule Corporation vehicles and glittering buildings.
Something like Fate soon stopped him in his tracks. An advertisement hung in the glass window display of a small merchant’s building he was astride.
Need Answers? The small flier asked. Ask the Super Psychic!
“Super Psychic?!” Vi-Poi exclaimed in amazement, his jaw dropping. A hurrying workaday commuter knocked into him before falling flat, and a few people turned to give him odd looks. The worker looked shocked to find the rigid lamppost he must have walked into was actually a small young man, but quickly grumbled his way to his feet and hurried on by.
Vi-Poi leaned forward, examining the poster critically. Below the words was a picture of what must be the Super Psychic herself, an old and portly woman, her craggy features swallowed in shadow by the eclipsing brim of a witch hat. She wore a mysterious grin and had a wise twinkle in her eye.
This must be a being of immense magical power, Vi-Poi thought excitedly.
Below the grand image at the bottom border of the poster was the promise: Satisfaction Guaranteed!!!
“That’s it!” Vi-Poi cheered, drawing more looks from pedestrians before he snatched the flier from the window and dashed down the sidewalk towards the listed address. Surely the Super Psychic would know where to find the Dragon Balls!
It wasn't such a hard place to find, but when Vi-Poi arrived at the Super Psychic’s surprisingly-cramped and cluttered office perched atop a bustling ramen shop, he was distressed to find out from a very grumpy secretary that the Super Psychic wouldn't meet him unless he could produce five Zeni.
“But I don’t have any money.”Vi-Poi said, flabbergasted.
“Well, you’ll just have to go get some then. The Super Psychic doesn't do charity cases.” The bored Zoanthrope flatly said, slurping another chopstick-load of ramen into her snout while browsing the contents of a thick magazine. The cover read Top Twenty Celebrity Fashion Disasters.
Vi-Poi didn't have any money, but he did have access to plenty of old Red Ribbon files on how to gain it quickly.
“I see. Do you know where the nearest bank is?” Vi-Poi asked politely.
The secretary glared up at him with yellow jackal eyes. “Down on the corner of Ginger Street, across from the Fire Brigade.”
“Thank you.” Vi-Poi said, rushing back down the steps and sprinting towards the bank.
The bank was just where the secretary said, housed at the base of an immense office tower clad in pearly white windows and gridiron. Busy-looking people hustled in and out of its wide double doors, but the tellers inside seemed to handle everyone with a crisp and calculated efficiency, forcing them into fast lines and slow lines before handing them money or receipts and sending them on their way. It vaguely reminded Vi-Poi of the way he would organize the corrupted and collapsing empire of data file hierarchies back when half of him lived in the Red Ribbon mainframe, constantly sorting what could be moved quickly into a file dump and what had to be carefully groomed and maintained before being nudged along into another format.
Vi-Poi stepped aside for a man who was clutching onto a teetering tower of paper-laden folders, then walked briskly into the bank. His algorithms quickly found the fastest line, which he waited in for a few minutes before being greeted by a friendly teller.
“Hello, how may I help you?” The teller asked, beaming.
“Hello!” Vi-Poi said in response to his greeting. He liked this teller and his friendly disposition, Vi-Poi decided. “Where is your vault?” Vi-Poi asked, surveying the bank with a keen blue-eyed gaze.
“Th- the vault?” The teller asked, face contorting in befuddlement. A small smile came back onto his face. “Ah, I see, do you want to sign up for, or access a security deposit box? You’ll have to speak with our branch manager, but I can set up an appointment right away.” The teller peered down at a computer screen, fingers busily clacking along.
“No, no.” Vi-Poi said, waving a hand. “I’m here to rob the bank.” He explained. “You don’t need to type anything.” He said reassuringly after taking note of the teller’s blood-drained face.
The Red Ribbon Army’s operation files clearly stated that robbing banks was the quickest way to gain Zeni, and though there were vague overviews of how to go about it, there wasn't much subset information.
“Can you tell me how to best go about robbing this bank?” Vi-Poi asked. “I know I have to go into the vault. That’s where all of the Zeni is kept, right?”
“I… I…. I…” The teller stuttered.
Vi-Poi crinkled his brow. “Don’t get stuck in an infinite loop on me! I need that Zeni, so I can meet the Super Psychic!”
“Okay!” The teller squeaked. Several of the other bank customers had gone silent, and were staring at the both of them in shock.
“It’s alright, you all can keep typing.” Vi-Poi said to the tellers. “And you all can keep moving in your fast and slow lines.” He told the customers. “I’m just here to rob the bank.” Many of the customers suddenly turned and ran for the doors, and some began inexplicably shrieking. Vi-Poi cast a sideways glance to the bank teller and shrugged his shoulders, confused.
Vi-Poi knew that barring a dramatic change in the criminal code over the centuries bank robbery was still illegal. The Red Ribbon operation files noted that several Mercenary Clan leaders had been arrested and condemned by law enforcement for such activity in the past, but why was it also terrifying to people? He wasn’t doing anything to them, just stealing piles Zeni, which he was almost certain didn’t haves thoughts or feelings like humans did.
“Thank you for making this bank robbery an efficient process.” Vi-Poi said as the teller led him into toward vault.
The teller gulped audibly and nodded, stopping in front of a large gleaming silver disk embedded in the wall. “Here is the vault.” The teller said. After swiping his hand across a scanner and tapping in a series of numbers on a keypad, the door slowly swung open. The vault’s interior was a brick-lined cuboid filled with small metal drawers and metal cages stuffed to the top with white sacks.
“The Zeni bills are in those sacks, right?” Vi-Poi asked as he entered the vault, twisting his mouth in thought.
Suddenly, the vault door slammed shut behind him. The teller had fled and sealed the vault behind him.
“Hmph. The efficient teller must have panicked just like all the others.” Vi-Poi surmised, taking a few of the sacks in one hand before walking back to the vault door. He pushed a hand against the steel, and it groaned and vibrated violently under the strain.
The vault door was a product of proud engineering, and would take more strength to open, Vi-Poi decided.
He pulled his arm back and then delivered a full-force punch to the vault. It crumpled inward with a high octave screech and crashed to the ground in front of him, lifting much dust into the air. Vi-Poi slung the money sacks over one shoulder and stepped gingerly around the ruined vault door and past the cowering teller to the outside. The street and sidewalk were rapidly emptying and a beetle-shaped police car hovered in front of the bank.
Two police officers in brown uniforms had their guns drawn. One was a foxlike Zoanthrope, the other a larger but out-of-shape human. Both of their grips on the weapons were trembling, very slightly.
“Hands up!” The foxlike officer shouted. Vi-Poi turned his large blue eyes back to the officer after giving the area a cautious scan for ki and coming up with only these two weak lifeforms.
“Hello.” Vi-Poi said. “I don’t want to fight or be arrested by either of you.”
“Hands UP!” The foxlike officer bellowed. “Get down on the ground!”
“I’m sorry to ruin your efficient arrest, but I have to go meet the Super Psychic.” He turned and started walking back towards the ramen shop, money sacks still slung over one shoulder.
The frumpy human officer holstered his gun and decided to charge Vi-Poi, drawing a nightstick from his belt. Vi-Poi watched with interest as the stick came slamming down and crashed against the top of his azure-haired head.
The club shivered into pieces.
Vi-Poi carefully lifted the policeman by his extended wrist, whose hand was still clutching to the shattered end of his nightstick. “You are deceptively quick for one so lumpy.” He said, complementing the policeman. “But your technique needs much sharpening.” Vi-Poi added, deciding honesty was best in this scenario. The man reached into his belt and sprayed a mist of some sort of organic-irritant into Vi-Poi’s pale face.
Vi-Poi analyzed it. “It’s some kind of plant resin.” He remarked. “That is a more interesting technique, but I’m afraid I don’t need to breathe, or taste things.” He informed the officer, before tossing him several yards back into his patrol car. He did it slightly harder than average human parameters could apparently withstand, as the landing caused the hood of the car to crumple inward and the policeman to lose consciousness.
The foxlike officer, who had at first seemed so efficient, was now wavering as terror took hold.
He hazarded a glance at his incapacitated partner sprawled upon the cratered hood, gun still pointed straight at Vi-Poi.
“This is your final warning, whatever you are!” The foxlike officer yelled, voice quivering with nerves.
Vi-Poi raised his hand goodbye and kept walking.
The officer began to unload his clip at Vi-Poi, shots ringing in the air. There were ten bullets in total fired in quick succession. The first few shots went wide of Vi-Poi, but as the officer’s burst of gunfire continued, the shots tightened into a more accurate trajectory. Vi-Poi’s free hand blurred out, and he deflected each bullet with a raised index finger. He caught the last and brought it up to his eyes, studying it closely.
“Bullet technology hasn’t changed much.” He observed, before letting the tiny round cone of metal fall to the ground.
Vi-Poi had underestimated the efficiency of the foxlike officer. The Zoanthrope policeman had mastered his fear and hurriedly exchanged clips, firing a new volley straight at him. This Vi-Poi decided to deflect as well, but to his chagrin one of the ricochets off of his finger sliced a bullet across the cuff of his jacket.
Vi-Poi’s blue eyes widened. “You shot my suit!” He yelled, grinding his teeth in anger. He’d have to extend his innate protective barrier outward to his suit from now on.
The other officer was waking now, yelling for his partner to flee and wait for more reinforcements. Such a display of selfless friendship soured Vi-Poi’s mood further, and he heard approaching sirens in the distance. More friends of theirs to shoot Vi-Poi’s new suit.
Where was Vi-Poi’s friend? Dead and gone, just like his suit almost!
The efficient foxlike officer had ignored his partner’s warnings, and was bravely circling around his damaged vehicle, loading another clip and pointing that hateful suit-slaying sidearm back at Vi-Poi.
“You two are friends, huh? Go to hell!” Vi-Poi growled, smashing a blurring fist down into the pavement, causing the ground to shake and ripple, a fissure tearing in the asphalt. The Zoanthrope officer tripped and fell flat on his face.
Vi-Poi flew away, heated at the entire situation.
He landed at the ramen shop, where more people gasped and pointed. He sighed, annoyed, but made a determined path up the stairs with all of his new Zeni. The secretary was working on a new bowl of steaming ramen and reading a new magazine which featured a winking model and had One Hundred Ways to Wear Cutoffs printed on the cover.
The secretary didn’t look any less bored at this new magazine’s fivefold increase in fashion data points.
Vi-Poi decided to lighten his bad mood so as not to ruin the chance at an audience with the Super Psychic.
“Hello.” Vi-Poi offered in greeting.
The jackal-faced Zoanthrope did not look up. “Hello.” She responded sourly after a long moment had passed.
“I’ve got the Zeni.” Vi-Poi said, thumping the heavy sacks down on the desk. “I estimate that this should be more than enough to meet with the Super Psychic for as long as I require.”
The Zoanthrope peered up from her magazine, confused. When the contents of the sacks dawned on her she leapt from her chair. “What is that? Bags full of money?!” She yelled, horrified.
Vi-Poi nodded. “Yes. I know you are a stern gatekeeper to those who would use your mistress’s magical talents, so I made sure to bring a lot of Zeni in hopes that it would ensure an audience.”
“Are you insane?” Sirens began to whir over the background din of the outside city. “You robbed that bank? There is no magic here, you idiot! The Super Psychic just tells people what they want to hear!”
Vi-Poi tilted his head in askance, pulling out the flier from his jacket pocket. “I think you’re mistaken. Your flier says ‘satisfaction guaranteed’, and relates that the Super Psychic will be able to guarantee that satisfaction in answering all questions asked with her Super Psychic abilities.”
The sirens were getting louder. “Are those police?” The secretary gasped. “They’re going to put you in jail, you lunatic! Don’t you understand what I’m saying? There is no real Super Psychic.”
Vi-Poi hung his head in defeat. His fingers curled around the poster in anger, crumpling it in his grasp. “You… you lied.” He said, lean synthetic muscles quaking with rage.
He could hear the sirens blaring now. The police were outside, and something fluttered loudly in the air above them. The secretary looked positively frightened now, but Vi-Poi ran back down the stairs, leaving the bags of Zeni and slamming the door behind him, causing the front of building to fracture and sag with pieces of its façade raining down.
How would he ever find out about the Dragon Balls if everyone who might offer knowledge might also be a liar?
Police were lined in a semi-circle around the exterior of the ramen shop. A helicopter buzzed overhead, with two bomb-tipped missiles on them. Vi-Poi calculated the missiles’ explosive yields as powerful enough to do only minor and non-critical damage to his body, should they hit him. Still, there was his suit to think about.
“Suspect: get down on the ground.” A deep voice boomed from the helicopter’s loudspeaker. “Do not move.”
Vi-Poi would have admired all of their coordinated efficiency, if he wasn’t so pissed.
He waved the crumpled flier at them. “Hey, police!” He yelled, jabbing an accusing hand back at the building. “These assholes are tricking people into thinking they have a Super Psychic! They say satisfaction guaranteed, but I’m not satisfied one bit! Arrest them for fraud!”
The police did not move towards the building to arrest the bored secretary and her dishonest boss. Instead, the helicopter repeated the order for Vi-Poi to get down on the ground.
“Damn!” Vi-Poi muttered, shaking his clenched fist in frustration.
The police suddenly began to fire. Vi-Poi flew up quickly, easily avoiding the hail of lead. Hovering in front of the helicopter, Vi-Poi knocked on the glass of the cockpit, leaving hairline cracks along the translucent shell.
“Can’t you read?” He demanded of the pilot, sticking the flier flat against the glass. The pilot didn’t respond but pulled hard on his control column and sent the helicopter veering back and circling higher.
His heightened senses could make out the sound of locks unlatching in the missile bays.
Vi-Poi hmphed, folding his arms in displeasure.
The two missiles fired at him simultaneously, tails of thick billowing smoke streaming behind them as they coiled around one another like snakes. Vi-Poi accessed his reactor’s energy reserves and extended an arm forward, palm raised.
The missiles were a direct hit, causing a tremendous fireball. The pressure wave the explosion caused shattered the windows of some nearby office towers. The cloak of black smoke covering Vi-Poi slowly wafted away, revealing the android to be unphased by the blast. He could hear the exclamations of disbelief emanating from below.
“Is that all?” Vi-Poi asked, waving smoke away from his face with one hand, his other still extended. “I will show you a more impressive technique.” He told the helicopter, charging and firing a ball of ki energy towards the vehicle. The pilot tried to maneuver out of the way, but the tail of the helicopter was struck and erupted in a violent fiery veil of flames. The helicopter began to spin out of control, and smashed into the street below, forcing some of the officers to leap out of the way.
Vi-Poi sullenly folded his arms across his chest once more and flew away at his top speed, the sonic boom he created shattering more windows. As he rose above the clouds over the bay he was glad to be rid of the pesky police, but he was also perplexed by his lack of success in finding out more about the Dragon Balls. Could it be that in this era, there was less magical knowledge? He would have to assume a broad range of possibilities until he discovered more information on the subject.
His brooding was interrupted by a substantial spike of energy on his scouter. A rotund robot erupted through the clouds ahead of him. A red siren strobed on top of its domed head, giving the robot a slightly ridiculous quality.
“Halt!” The robot buzzed, boxy fists on its large metal hips. A police star was emblazoned across its chest around a Capsule Corporation logo. “You have violated several municipal laws. You are subject to arrest and prosecution.” The robot informed him.
Vi-Poi focused his built-in scouter on the robot. Its fighting strength was trifling.
“Get out of my way, you inefficient bucket of bolts.” Vi-Poi said, firing a disinterested wave of ki at the robot. The robot moved its accordion arms in a wavelike fashion as it slid its body along those limbs and out of the way, avoiding the stream of energy.
Vi-Poi hmphed. “Going to make your dismantling difficult?” He asked.
The robot’s domed head made a complete revolution as it scanned the surroundings. “It is you that will be dismantled, perpetrator.” The robot posited, extending its boxy hands, revealing two circular energy ports on its square-shaped palms.
Small discs of ki energy pulsed out of the ports, reaching Vi-Poi at a fast rate. He growled, shielding himself with his arms and knees as the packets of energy washed over him in a barrage. He could smell his suit beginning to singe.
It didn't end there. The robot insisted on taking matters further when it found that Vi-Poi wasn't damaged by this paltry initial attack, and flew towards him, swatting at the azure-haired android with its extendable arms and legs. Vi-Poi drew from his extensive martial arts database and was effortlessly able to parry and block the blurring metallic assault, but the annoying jabs from the clunky computer was scuffing up his jacket sleeves and pants legs even further.
Vi-Poi dodged its next punch and twirled his body about, delivering a hard roundhouse kick to the side of the robot, causing one side of its large hips to dent inward, the impact flinging it far down towards the clouds. The robot stopped itself from falling with a steamy burst of air jets from its feet, and turned its big body back to face Vi-Poi.
“Face it, you are outclassed. You cannot win against a better system. It’s pure mathematics.” Vi-Poi advised, fixing his thin black tie and pulling the knot up to his throat. “I do not think you’ll like the junkyard they will put you in, if you continue this line of behavior.” He warned.
The robot said nothing in response, only extending its arms again and firing more pellets of ki energy.
“That’s it, you moronic machine!” Vi-Poi yelled, soaring above the torrent of ki.
Vi-Poi glared contemptuously down at the robot, reaching back with his arms before extending both hands flat as he powered up. He focused a great amount of his reactor reserves into his palms, creating a dense black sphere of ki which crackled off forking bolts of darkness under the stress of inflation. “Meet my idiot buster, courtesy of the Red Ribbon Army.” A peal and whistle of energy audibly filled the air as he charged the attack.
“Chasing Extinction Bullet!!!” Vi-Poi shouted, firing the dark orb at the robot.
The robot gave a start of surprise and looked up at the attack, its accordion arms undulating in a sinuous pattern once more as it slid out of the way of the fast-approaching sphere of powerful ki. The dark Bullet however was not so easily dodged, and after shooting past the robot it quickly changed direction to smash into the unsuspecting robot’s rear.
A bright white flash lit the sky was followed by a great boom and howl of wind as a spewing geyser of melted gears and small bits of machinery marred the white fluffy clouds below. The robot had been utterly disintegrated by the attack.
Vi-Poi hmphed at the robot’s easy demise and floated down through the clouds, slowly spiraling towards the frothy surface of the bay. He plunged inside the waters, letting them cool his hot circuitry. He would rest here and recharge, he decided. He wouldn’t be detected by any police down here, and given all of the problems the world seemed to be having, he was sure they would soon move on to other crises and calamities.
Vi-Poi sank down further, until he was at the shadowy bottom of the bay. He would have to think of a new way to search for the magic of the Dragon Balls. Perhaps if he found powerful beings, they could advise him best on how to proceed? He extended the range of his built-in scouter to its maximum limit, seeking out strong lifeforms. He was shocked to discover that Earth was populated by many powerful beings, several far stronger than him.
Vi-Poi lifted his arms in triumphant joy, startling a passing fish. “Surely with their help, I can find the Dragon Balls!” He gurgled, beaming happily.