Bulma entered the house from the small veranda facing the path leading to the beach, since she was still dripping wet and didn't want to attract attention. It was still early in the morning and the others were having breakfast on the veranda's patio. Her arrival brought a moment of total stillness where everyone took in her appearance. Then Aunt Harriet exploded.

"Oh my God Bulma, what happened? You're soaked to the skin! And where did you go, all alone, at such an early hour?"

"It's nothing, Aunt Harriet, really. I wanted to have a walk alongshore, but I... tripped and managed to fall in the water."

She wasn't really lying, but she felt uncomfortable all the same. Then she let her eyes fall on Yamcha, who had returned to the difficult task of preparing himself a toast, and added:

"Yamcha, can you wait for me in the study after breakfast? I have something I wish to discuss with you."

Her voice was calm and neutral, but her heart was beating frantically. She couldn't believe that she was questioning the moral integrity of the man she thought one day would become her husband only because a renegade instigate her with a fanciful story devoid of any proof. She was supposed to trust Yamcha, even against all odds. And instead...instead a single dialogue with a man considered highly untrustworthy was enough to fill her mind with doubts. Bulma reflected on this while she went in her room to change and remained greatly perplexed with the conclusions she drew. She...she didn't trust Yamcha! She had always considered him a man of elevated morality, interested in noble causes, just like her, or at least so she had thought. So why the sudden distrust? She didn't know, but it was as if she felt she could believe what Vegeta told her, even if it went against everything she considered true. As if she... trusted Vegeta more than Yamcha.

"Ridiculous!" Bulma told herself aloud. "Simply ridiculous!"

She finished putting on a dress and went towards the study. To prove, even to herself, that it was all a huge mistake.

Opening the study's door, Bulma found Yamcha already sitting on an armchair, as she expected. What she didn't expect was Kiwi seated behind the desk, looking bored.

"Mr Kiwi what are you doing here? I thought you had affairs in town you needed to attend this morning." Bulma said.

"Well, yes my dear miss, but I need Mr Cordel presence, so I'll wait for you two to finish chatting and then we'll go, right Yamcha? " He turned towards Yamcha, who nodded.

Bulma didn't like the patronizing tone of his voice. She had something important she wanted to discuss with Mr Cordel ... strange she had started to think of him as 'Mr Cordel' again, as if he was only an acquaintance... well, that wasn't important now. She had a serious matter in mind and Mr Kiwi made it sound as if she was a little girl demanding attention that should be indulged. Well, better this way, she would talk to both men.

"Actually, it's a good thing you're here, Mr Kiwi, since it regards you too." She started, getting a surprised glance from Kiwi. "You see, earlier this morning I met someone that told me an incredible story involving you, Mr Cordel and a sordid affair of opium traffic."

As soon as she finished the word 'opium' she saw Mr Cordel's face become unnaturally white, while Kiwi made a half jump from the chair, eyes and mouth widening in a really unbecoming manner. It was only a second and then Kiwi recollected himself, even if Mr Cordel was still white, but that second was enough to prove that they had something to hide, and her accusation wasn't that far-fetched.

Bulma felt her heart sink: it was true, then. Yamcha Cordel wasn't who she thought him to be, she didn't know him anymore.

Then Kiwi spoke. "But it's simple absurd! Who could spread such lies! Surely you didn't believe that shameless liar, Miss Briefs! I demand to know who it was!" He said the last sentence exchanging a glance with Mr Cordel. The latter looked at Bulma and assured her that it was a horrible lie. Someone must be interested in ruining their reputation, it was the only explanation! It was imperial that she told them the name of this detractor!

Bulma really wanted to let herself be convinced of their innocence. But... she had expected Mr Cordel to be scandalized and offended hearing so devastating charges. Instead he seemed worried and anxious to know who accused them. And there was something in his behaviour... in the blush that now adorned his cheeks, in his shifty look... that suggested how such a charge wasn't unexpected. In that moment she clearly felt something crumble in her supposed love for Mr Cordel. He was involved in something suspicious, confirming that she didn't know him as she always had presumed. The 'Yamcha' she thought she loved didn't exist.

She felt suddenly discouraged and lonely: one of her cornerstones had just crumbled and disappeared.

Meanwhile, Mr Cordel and Kiwi were persisting in asking her who her 'informer' was. In a colourless voice, without looking at them, she replied: "If you really want to know, my 'informer' is a person that answers to the name of Royston."

"ROYSTON!" The two men screamed, becoming really white and wide-eyed.

"You're kidding, right?" Mr Cordel asked to, well more pleaded with, her.

"Why should I?" She replied, surprised by their reaction. Now they seemed terrified instead of worried.

"He... he is to be trying to fracture our reputation to improve his few legal affairs, don't give him attention, Miss Briefs." Kiwi told her after a while.

"Now, if you could excuse us, we have to find a way to stop these unsubstantiated allegations." That said, he took Mr Cordel by the elbow and they hurried to leave the room.

She followed them with sad eyes and, when they closed the door, she sat on a chair and let out a sigh, mourning the loss of respect, trust and the feeling she had always considered love for Mr Yamcha Cordel.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The following week Bulma was once again in her office at the Committee grounds, working on a report regarding the suppression of the leprosy epidemic. They would send it to the king to keep him informed of the Committee work. She was reading what she had written till that moment to check for errors when Vegeta entered in the room with a small bundle of documents.

"Good morning, Miss Briefs." He greeted politely enough, even if Bulma had always the impression that he was making fun of her. "How is the report turning out? Any difficulties?" He continued in a more serious tone.

"I've almost finished it." Bulma stated proudly.

"Really? I'm impressed. You're surely cut for this job." Vegeta told her honestly, making Bulma glow: she loved when someone recognized her hard work.

"Well, then you won't have problems with this other task." Vegeta said, making Bulma lift her head from the typewriter. "You see, next month there will be a reception to celebrate the Queen's Hospital first year of activity. Before that the king wants that we organize a fund-raising to further promote the hospital development. Can you handle it? Raditz is a total disaster in good manners when it comes to interacting with posh people, and for the most part this island's influent people are beyond posh." He looked at her questioningly.

"Oh well, not that I like the idea really much, but if there is no other choice I'll do it." Bulma answered dejectedly, she had the sane reservations as Raditz about the majority of the white community, even if, as a real lady, she wasn't allowed to let it show.

"The only other choice is to let ME handle this task." Vegeta said, almost cheerfully. "But I have the impression that they won't even let me enter."

"I wonder why." Bulma retorted dryly. "You have only a terrible reputation and are really lacking in the virtue department. Not a good enough reason for not wanting to have anything to do with you!"

"Uff. One should never overdo it. Especially with virtue." He stated closing his eyes and tilting his head up, arms crossed as usual.

"You surely don't have a thing to fear on that issue." Bulma acidly retorted.

"I think so too." Vegeta chuckled. Then he said something that Bulma really wasn't anticipating (not that she was able to anticipate much with such an enigmatic man). "Speaking of virtue... how's that virtue's model of yours?" He asked maliciously, obviously referring to Yamcha. "Did you two have a good talk the other day?" His faked innocence was enough to make her loose control.

"Yes, as a matter of fact we did. And, as I suspected he was completely surprised by such an accusation and assured me that it was only a lie." She couldn't admit that she wasn't convinced in the least by Mr Cordel words, it would be too much for her pride, she would demonstrate that she wasn't able to judge someone even after knowing him for a long time. She would not give Vegeta that satisfaction!

"And you believed him?" Vegeta asked mockingly.

She exploded immediately. "Of course!!" She lied. She just couldn't bear to see his smug look if she admitted the truth. "I love him." She said with as much conviction in her voice as she could master. "And beside, you didn't give me a single proof that he is really involved in something illegal, as you say. Do you think that your word is enough to make me suspect of him?" She concluded a little lamely.

"If you wish to blind yourself to the truth..." He stated shrugging his shoulders. "Well, bring me the report when you finish it. I'll take a look at it before sending it to the king. Good work." He bowed briefly and then opened the door to exit, only to find Raditz half lowered towards the door. He straightened and blushed a little.

"Raditz!" Vegeta chided. "Sometimes you're worst than a gossip! Eavesdropping? Tsk tsk." He seemed more amused than irritated, Bulma noted, while poor Raditz was scuffing his feet like a child caught red-handed. Bulma couldn't help but giggle at the scene: a man over six feet cowering like that! Vegeta chuckled as well, and after shooting a last, really amused, glance at his second-in-command left the room.

"I'm sorry. I didn't intend to..." Raditz said when they were alone. "But I was really curious. I hoped you could convince that boy that the game he's playing is dangerous." He said seriously.

Bulma was a little miffed that everyone considered Mr Cordel a criminal while she had never had even the faintest clue. She stated again that she believed in his innocence, even if with much less conviction than before.

"I suggest you to take him back home as soon as possible. This part of the world is not good for people of his kind. Too many temptations, I think."

Bulma didn't know how to reply and so remained silent while Raditz bowed and went out of the room.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

While leaving the Committee building, Vegeta saw the last person he thought to meet: Yamcha Cordel. The man seemed to wait for him, because as soon as Vegeta stepped out of the door he marched straight towards him. With a half-resolute face Yamcha greeted the English man.

"I wanted to have a word with you, Royston..." He started haughtily, purposely omitting the 'Mr' before his name, "...about the lies you're spreading around." Under Vegeta cold stare, he lost a lot of his bravado, and the last part didn't come out as outraged as he had rehearsed while waiting for the man.

Vegeta lifted an eyebrow, a little snide smile forming on his face, and answered with a very frightening voice: "Lies? I don't think so, boy. You and your friend are a hindrance for me. I'll be clear: as of now there are two gangs that are making a huge fortune with opium traffic here at Honolulu. Maybe you've heard something on the subject. Two! But there is no space for both, I hope you're smart enough to see this."

Yamcha was completely surprised by Vegeta's bluntness. Sure, he had always had his suspects on this English renegade, but he didn't expect to see them confirmed so off-handedly.

Vegeta went on, with a completely impassive face. "There is not enough space for two... For one? Maybe" He continued. "It's better for the second band to fold up, while it still can. Soon it will be dangerous to continue with this 'trade'. Freeza's henchmen will not remain sitting on their hands, I'm warning you. Think about it." He finished.

Yamcha became rather red in face. The nerve of this.... Threatening him so openly. He took a step back and with an "I don't know what you're talking about." left the street. He had to report this new development to the others! They would think of a way to stop that renegade.

Yamcha was so immersed in his thought that didn't see the man coming out of a building till they collided.

"Ouch! Could you pay more attention... Mr Cordel?" The man he hit said with a marked English accent.

"I'm really sorry, Mr Zarbon! I wasn't paying attention. I had a bad encounter that unnerved me." Yamcha replied, recognizing the English dandy he had met many times at receptions. He was a sophisticated and cultured man, whose conversational powers were highly regarded in the white community. Yamcha found him a little boring and too formal but, after all, Zarbon was a real English gentleman, so that was to be expected.

"A bad encounter?" Zarbon inquired curiously, toying with his cane.

Strange how all English men continued to use a cane even if it was an outdated custom, Yamcha reflected absent-mindedly. Even Royston had one with him! "Yes... a... fellow countryman of yours with a.... terrible reputation." Yamcha explained nervously.

Zarbon eyes hardened. "The sinister man, I imagine." He stated with contempt. "He is a shame for my country! I hope he didn't bother you too much. Just ignore him and his sarcastic comments."

Yamcha nodded and, after a brief exchange of pleasantries and small talk they departed, even as rain started to fall.

Half an hour later Yamcha was inside a gentleman’s residence, engaged in a discussion with other four men, one of which was Kiwi.

"In my opinion it's useless to stall, Royston is too dangerous and, while we're here wasting time he could be devising a way to destroy us. We must silence him for good!" A thin German merchant said resolute. His dark eyes were cold and his expression was very hard: he seemed an executioner ready to kill. His eyes rested on the square that could be seen behind the window, where a few kids were running in the rain, vainly reproached by their mothers.

Kiwi intervened: "Tomorrow Royston has a meeting with the king. I can arrange for him to meet a 'thief' and tragically lose his life. I know a sailor that would do anything for the prospect of a supply of opium."

"But Kiwi, don't you think it's too risky? What if something goes wrong? Royston is really dangerous and full of resources." Yamcha exclaimed hesitant, his face crossed by beads of sweat. He took his handkerchief with a trembling hand and wiped his forehead, while the German merchant replied with disdain: "Mr Cordel, you're sounding like a coward! Sure, Royston is dangerous. It's for this very fact that he must be buried as soon as possible!"

"He is right, Yamcha." Kiwi said. "I'll contact that sailor this very evening. Or rather I'm going now. It won't take long and tomorrow we'll be free of that annoying renegade."

They all agreed that it was the best course of action and so Kiwi hurried to the harbour's greasy spoon where he was sure to find his man.

The air had become pretty cold, the streets were empty and the wind blew along the island's coastline. The sea was swollen and menacing and the sky poured rain without hinting at a slowdown. But Kiwi didn't mind. It made his talk with Pui-Pui, the Hawaiian sailor with an addiction to opium, that much inconspicuous since they were in a dark alley near the 'establishment'. They had already reached an agreement, after Kiwi gave him an 'advance of the payment', when they heard a couple of men arguing not too far. When Kiwi recognized one of them he remained greatly surprised: it was Mr Zarbon! He couldn't believe it, one of the most respected members of the white community in a place like that? With a smirk Kiwi followed them, intent on finding out more about the double life that English dandy was obviously leading.

He came as close to them as he could without being noticed and managed to catch the last part of their discussion. And froze.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The following evening...

Vegeta had just left the king's palace and was returning home. The rain of the previous day had stopped, but the cold wind not and so the street were almost deserted. The only sounds were that of barking dogs and the clinking of his cane on the street.

Suddenly, while he was passing a small alley, someone sprang out from it with a leg raised to hit. Vegeta managed to block it with his hand, making his cane go flying across the street. The aggressor remained greatly shocked by this move and then Vegeta struck back with a kick of his own, hitting the man squarely on the stomach and sending him ramming against a wall.

Clearly dazed, the Hawaiian man got to his feet again and prepared for another attach.

"I'll quit here, weakling. I'm not in the mood to be robbed and you will find that I'm pretty difficult to beat." Vegeta said with a cruel smirk, not in the least bothered from what he thought was an attempt at mugging... a really poor attempt, in his opinion.

The man, apparently a sailor from his clothes attire, didn't seem to give any mind to Vegeta's words and charged again. Only to receive a violent punch on the stomach, that sent him coughing on his knees, and a kick under the chin that made him fly backwards. He landed with an heavy thump on the street, remaining motionless.

"Well, it's been fun to play with you, but I really have to go." Vegeta said smugly, turning his back to the fallen man and retrieving his cane from the ground.

Pui-Pui rose again and, between clenched teeth, whispered: "No... I can't let my opium reward escape me. You must die!" He took a dagger from his boot and jumped against Vegeta with his arm ready to strike.

A clanking of steel against steel rang out in the street, followed by the sound of the dagger hitting the ground, and Pui-Pui found himself with a blade against his throat. He stared with a mix of confusion and fear at the sword-cane yielded by Vegeta, the sheath forgotten on the street's floor.

"So... care to tell me who hired you to kill me?" Vegeta asked with a deceptively sweet voice, while he pushed the blade a little more forcefully against the other man's throat.

"I... I...." Pui-Pui stammered, cold sweat breaking on his forehead.

"Yes?" Vegeta prompted encouraging, moving the blade till a small cut appeared on the captive's neck. "Start talking. I don't have all the night." He ordered menacingly.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Bulma was feeling a little anxious that evening. Today Kiwi had been really insufferable. He had returned last night, very late at night, so drunken that he had practically to be carried in his room. He had continued to babble, and occasionally shout, something about an agent and how he wasn't afraid of him. In the morning he was so sick that he couldn't leave his room and when he finally emerged from it he started drinking like a madman. A little while ago he had left the house for a quick walk, much needed in Bulma opinion, and he wasn't back, yet. She would have heard him otherwise. Bulma was really puzzled by that strange behaviour. Even Mr Cordel couldn't understand why his friend was letting himself go like that.

.Dismissing those thoughts, Bulma tried to read a book, but another distracting factor made itself known. Instead of focusing on the page she was currently at, her mind wandered towards the enigma that assailed her during the day. The sinister man. She pictured his sarcastic smirk in a so vivid and insistent way that, to snap out of it, she closed the book with violence.

She found herself wondering what he could ever do in the evening. What could lift his deep-seated cynical disposition? She felt like an idiot, wasting her time in so ridiculous notions. She put on the desk her book and prepared herself to go to bed. She said her prayers, turned off the light and snuggled down under the blankets. After a few minutes she was already asleep.

A sudden noise woke her up. The room was still pitch dark. Apart the clicking of her clock on the desk, the house was completely silent. What had it been? She sat up, trying to remember what had awakened her. She heard it again, a low but strident sound coming from the garden through her open window.

She left the bed and moved the curtains away. The moon still bathed the ground with her spectral light and Bulma noted a man she knew staggering past the door of the garden. Kiwi has returned. She made a small frown and was about to return to bed hen another man approached Kiwi. She knew him, too. He was... what was Vegeta doing here? She peered from the window, straining to hear what he was saying.

"You don't seem too sound, Kiwi." Vegeta stated casually, startling Kiwi, badly.

"YOU! You shouldn't.... you...." Kiwi didn't know what to say: that renegade should be dead!

"What? Surprised to see me... alive?" Vegeta smirked cruelly. "That wasn't a good move, you know? It only managed to make me angry."

"Who do you think you are, eh?" Kiwi slurred, made bold by the drunken stupor he was in. "You're not that though." He continued, approaching Vegeta and starting to poke him in the chest with a finger. "In fact I'm sure I could teach a thing or two about how to respect your betters." He said, still poking the other.

And then a hand grabbed his wrist in a vicelike grip. Kiwi was lifted from the ground and, twisting through the air, crashed with a thud on the grass.

"Don't try to touch me again." Vegeta warned him with a cold glare.

Kiwi had become really pale. "It's impossible!" He raised himself and scanned Vegeta intently. "There is only a man that could seize me like that." He continued to stare at Vegeta while taking a step back.

"By God! It's you! I've met you only one time, in that dark alley at Shangai but I would recognize that grasp everywhere!" He wheezed out.

"I'm flattered that you remember me!" Vegeta's voice was cold and hard. "You are in a deal too big for you, Kiwi!"

"I don't fear you! Now I know the real identity of Freeza's agent and I intend to get my revenge!"

"Really? Kiwi I want to give you an opportunity to keep on living." Vegeta talked with deliberate slowness. "Leave this island with all haste. If you try to put whatever plan you have in mind in action, you will die. Do you understand?"

Neither one saw Bulma at the window, following that exchange with the outmost attention. When Vegeta parted, and Kiwi was already in his room, Bulma returned to bed, with her thought in a jumble.

She was feeling really disoriented. She was depressed... Vegeta... so strange, so lonely, he was wrapped in a dark shadow. He was involved in something highly suspicious, she had enough proof of this with this night's events. Cold, cynic, without scruples, without remorse... and without someone to share his life with. She was horrified from the direction her thoughts were taking, but she couldn't stop them. She was falling for him! It was absurd, it was unthinkable... it was true. She didn't know why, but she found herself drawn to him even if she knew his terrible reputation.

She forcefully erased those thoughts from her mind and willed herself to sleep. She would ignore those feelings and everything would turn alright. With a nod, she closed her eyes and let sleep claim her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The following morning when Bulma came down for breakfast she had managed to lock up her developing feelings for Vegeta in a secluded corner of her consciousness. So she felt reasonably safe.

The morning passed without anything relevant happening. The only thing that broke the normal routine was a brief visit from Lieutenant Mason, who came to say hello to Uncle Ox since he was passing nearby.

He went inside Mr Briefs' study with Goku, who had accompanied him, for a few minutes and then Uncle Ox invited them for lunch, much to Chichi's enthusiasm.

Kiwi was again closed in his room, while Mr Cordel seemed a little gloomy, but lunch was enjoyable nevertheless: Goku's sweetness was really adorable! Even if his table manner were simply atrocious.

Yamcha was watching that stupid soldier making a fool of himself with a grimace on his face. He couldn't believe that his sister was in love with a beast like him! Luckily lunch finished soon and the guests left. He couldn't stomach his sister's giddiness for long.

He retreated in the study to be alone and think. Kiwi had told him that the attempt on Royston's life had been a complete failure. He didn't know how it was possible that renegade was so lucky! His eyes posed on an envelope sitting on the desk. It was labelled 'private' and had his name on it.

Greatly perplexed he opened it. Inside there was a single sheet of paper. It said, without a preamble:

"Royston!" He murmured angrily, crumpling up the sheet. "But... how did he manage to put this note here?" He wondered aloud, frowning.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Meanwhile, at Vegeta's home...

Vegeta was calmly seated behind the desk in his study, while Raditz occupied one of the two chairs in front of him.

"Those two boys are asking for a lot of trouble, eh captain?" Raditz said a little too cheerful. He seemed more amused than worried.

"They're amateurs. It won't be long now before they'll stop causing problems. And then Freeza will feel it's time to move more freely, without worrying too much about competition. We'll be able to do our job more easily. I'm sure we'll achieve our target very soon." Vegeta replied with a smirk.

"Yes, I think so, too."

The door opened without notice and the two men turned to look at the newcomer.

"I take that you managed to leave the letter without being noticed." Vegeta said towards the man on the threshold.

"Yes, he probably found it by now. And nobody suspects a thing." The man replied, closing the door and walking up to Vegeta. "But I'm not comfortable at all with these lies and subterfuges. I'm not suited for this kind of job, I fear."

"Nonsense! You've done a great job so far, little brother." Raditz reassured him.

"Raditz is right, Kakaroth. You're a wonderful secret agent. Mason is completely unaware that you work for me. Even the most distrustful of our enemies sees you as nothing more than a harmless young man."

"That may be true, but I still don't like to be a spy." Goku protested.

"You should have thought about it before choosing the family job, little brother." Raditz smirked.

"However, you can stop worrying. Soon we'll achieve our goal, and you'll be able to revert to the loyal soldier you're born to be." Vegeta told him a little condescendingly.

Goku nodded dejectedly and, seating himself on the vacant chair in front of the desk, remained silent listening to the new instructions his boss had to give.

* * * * *