章 4: Integrating into a Primitive Society
Hey guys, welcome back to the 4th chapter of my story. If anyone has suggestions for the direction the story will go then feel free to dm or leave a review for me to read since I am not totally sure where I want the story to go towards, Mark or the Empire. I'll try to make the chapters longer and longer, but I am new to writing so bear with me. With that said, enjoy.
Chapter 4
Mark and Beerus had been sitting on the couch, watching TV for several hours, when Nolan suddenly flew into the room carrying a stack of papers. Upon seeing Beerus, Nolan called out his name, which caught his attention. Beerus turned to Nolan, looking puzzled, and asked, "What is it?"
Nolan appeared slightly taken aback by the intensity in Beerus's gaze, but he quickly regained his composure and said, "I have some papers for you. They'll help you integrate into this society." Beerus was perplexed by Nolan's cryptic statement and asked, "Integrate? What do you mean?" Nolan's tone took on a subtle hint of threat as he clarified, "You want to blend in, don't you?"
Beerus's confusion deepened, but he sensed an underlying seriousness in Nolan's words and replied cautiously, "Of course." Mark, who had been watching the interaction between the two giants, sat at the side looking confused about the tension in the room. "Excellent," Nolan said, his tone firm yet decisive. The tension fading from the room. "You start school in a couple of days."
"What!" Beerus and Mark exclaimed simultaneously, their surprise evident in their voices.
"I need to be educated alongside humans, Uncle?" Beerus questioned, his disbelief palpable.
"Yes, on your papers, it says you are 18, so that means you will be attending high school with Mark over here," explained Nolan, his words carrying a sense of inevitability.
"Uh, sure, Dad. I have no problem. But isn't it weird that Beerus is coming to school in the last year of high school?" Mark voiced his confusion.
"Maybe, but he needs to understand the culture of teenagers as well to fit in," reasoned Nolan, his voice tinged with a sense of practicality.
Meanwhile, Beerus sat at the side, his expression a mixture of disbelief and frustration. "I am over 30 years old and I am being forced to attend this high school with the local species," he muttered to himself, still in slight shock at the situation he found himself in.
*Timeskip*
The son of Thragg, Beerus, exhaled heavily, his breath laden with frustration and disbelief, as he reluctantly settled into a seat within the confines of a classroom brimming with fragile humans. The prospect of enduring hours of mundane lectures and lessons, many of which he had already mastered, alongside these fragile humans, ignited a deep sense of irritation within him, threatening to overwhelm his patience. As he surveyed the room, he couldn't shake the feeling of being scrutinized by the majority of his classmates, their curious gazes only adding to his growing disdain. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being judged solely for his otherness, and the thought fueled his growing disdain for his human classmates. 'Do they have nothing better to do than gawk at someone new?' he mused, a tinge of anger coloring his thoughts as he recalled the earlier events of the day.
*Flashback to earlier in the day*
Mark and Beerus were dropped off at the entrance of Reginald Vel Johnson High School. Beerus was still trying to get used to the infinitely weak fabrics that adorned his skin with Mark at the side silently laughing at him. Instantly, all eyes turned towards the two Viltrumites, and whispers rippled through the crowd. Mark paused, feeling the weight of the attention, while Beerus strode ahead, his head held high. Mark rushed up beside him, his expression a mix of amazement and apprehension. "Wow, I didn't expect that. Just wow," Mark remarked, trying to break the tension.
"Why are they looking at me like that?" Beerus questioned, his voice betraying a hint of annoyance, his demeanor stoic as ever.
"Well, I mean, you're new to the school, and it's the last year, plus you look taller and buffer than some American professional football players," Mark explained, attempting to lighten the mood.
Suddenly, a pale, small human approached them before Beerus could question what football was. "Woah, Mark, where did you get this hunk of a man from?" the human exclaimed with a look of awe.
"Hey, William," Mark greeted, waving. "This is my cousin Beerus. He's staying with us for a while."
"Well, hello there, Beerus. I'm William, and if you ever need help, you can count on me," William offered with a slight hint of something else that Beerus couldn't identify.
"Thank you, little one," Beerus replied, before striding away to enter the school.
Mark and William exchanged stunned glances, processing Beerus's peculiar choice of words. Eventually, William shrugged it off. "Little one?"
"Yeah, don't mind him. He's from another country," Mark hastily explained.
"Really? From where?" William asked, his curiosity piqued.
Mark grew nervous and improvised, "The UK."
"UK?! They make Adonis like that in the UK?" William exclaimed.
Mark shrugged nonchalantly. "Eh, it's in the family genetics. So, what have you been up to this past weekend? I've been pretty busy since my cousin came into town." The two continued chatting as they made their way into the school, while the rest of the student body returned to their activities, the initial curiosity fading into the background.
*Flashback end*
The loud, annoying bell quickly shook Beerus out of his thoughts, prompting him to glance distastefully at the irritating metal contraption. He stood up abruptly and grabbed Mark by the arm to swiftly make their exit out of the classroom. "Woah, Beerus, slow down!" Mark exclaimed, struggling to gather his balance as the rest of the class just stared.
"Where to next, boy?" Beerus rumbled in a deep voice. (AN: forgot to remind you. Imagine his voice as the voice of Idris Elba)
"It's lunchtime. We're heading to the cafeteria to grab some food," Mark replied.
"Wonderful! I wonder what other delicacies humans have," Beerus remarked, while Mark awkwardly smiled in response.
Standing in line at the cafeteria, Beerus scrutinized the food options, causing a slight hold-up in the lunch line. "This does not look appetizing, Mark," Beerus remarked, his Viltrumite senses detecting the unappealing sight and smell of the food.
"Yeah, school lunches are not that good, but at least we're not in class right now," Mark replied, with Beerus grunting in disgust at the offerings.
"Hey, you're holding up the line! Move aside, loser!" a loud voice interrupted, drawing the attention of the entire cafeteria. A young man swaggered up to them, adopting a confrontational posture.
"Oh, hey Todd," Mark greeted with a hint of exasperation. Beerus narrowed his eyes at the loud human, observing Mark's slight flinch at the sound of Todd's voice.
"What's up, fuck face? Amber isn't here to protect you now," Todd taunted, gesturing towards Mark. "And who's this muscle head that's with you?"
"This is my cousin, Beerus," Mark replied uncomfortably.
"Well, well, well, a relative of Marky-poo," Todd mocked. "If you know what's good for you, don't interact with him at this school unless you want to be a loser like him. I beat him up last week, and he took it like a little girl," Todd boasted.
Beerus felt a surge of anger towards Todd for daring to intimidate a warrior of Viltrum and towards Mark for not fighting back like a true Viltrumite. Silently, he walked up to Todd, his presence looming over the smaller human. Todd grew nervous and began to back away. "Woah, man, what are you doing? Back the fuck up! Hey, somebody help me!" he stuttered as taller and more muscular not-so teenager advanced, cornering him against a cafeteria pillar.
The rest of the students ignored Todd and watched in anticipation as Beerus leaned down, his face inches away from Todd's fear-filled expression. As Beerus picked up Todd casually by the shirt with one hand, he stared angrily at the terrified Todd until his nose caught an unpleasant odor. Pulling back and dropping the boy, Beerus recoiled in disgust. "Disgusting, you soiled yourself," he declared, at the sight of the stain on Todd's pants.
The cafeteria erupted in laughter, and the sound of phones clicking filled the air as Todd, mortified, stood up and ran out of the cafeteria. Beerus, feeling disdainful of the surrounding humans' inaction, returned to Mark's side. Mark looked on in awe at his cousin's display of intimidation.
"Wow, I have never seen Todd look that scared in my life," said Mark, his eyes wide with amazement.
"Come, Mark, my appetite has ended. We shall get food at another location after school," Beerus declared as he strode away, leaving Mark scrambling to catch up. "OK, OK, wait up, man! Why do you keep leaving me behind like that? Also, I work after school!"
In the bustling cafeteria, as the aftermath of Beerus's intimidating encounter with Todd settled, a girl with fiery red hair watched the scene unfold with a thoughtful expression. Her friend nudged her, breaking her reverie, and whispered, "Hey, Eve, what do you think? That big guy is pretty cute and strong, right?"
Eve considered for a moment before replying, "Well, he's cute, but I've got a boyfriend. Sorry, Megan," causing Megan to groan in disappointment. "Man, I've got to meet this boyfriend of yours that I've never seen before," her friend mused with a teasing smile.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the cafeteria, a girl nudged an African American girl with curly hair and excitedly exclaimed, "Hey Amber, what a total hottie, right?"
"Eh, he's not my type," Amber responded nonchalantly.
"Are you serious right now, Amber?" the girl exclaimed incredulously. "That guy was soo hot standing up to Todd! He even picked him up with ONE hand!"
"I'm more into nicer guys, Jasmine, not the guy that looks like a jock," Amber explained.
"Ugh, Amber, nothing wrong with appreciating a fine specimen like that," Jasmine countered with a playful grin.
*Hours later*
After school ended, Beerus bid Mark farewell as Mark headed off to his "job." He glanced around the area before taking flight, soaring back to the Grayson household with a small sense of relief, leaving the high school drama behind him. Beerus floated in mid-air, surveying the area below him. He could absently hear the distant sounds of Earth's bustling suburban life filling the air around him. Suddenly, he sensed the displacement of air and turned to find Nolan, floating next to him clad in his hero outfit.
Beerus couldn't help but feel impatient as he gazed at the primitive planet below them. "Why don't we just take over right now for the Empire? This planet is no match for our power," he questioned, his voice laced with frustration. Nolan's gaze sharpened, and he swiftly closed the distance between them, his demeanor becoming stern and authoritative. "You are being too eager," he rebuked sternly. "I have spent two decades here, preparing for this moment, laying the groundwork, and I have served the Empire for even longer. Your impatience will be a liability to the mission. Do not dare to doubt my methods and keep your opinions to yourself."
Unfazed by Nolan's attempt to intimidate him, Beerus remained composed, floating calmly a few feet away. However, a lingering sense of suspicion gnawed at him. He knew there was more to Nolan's words than met the eye, and he couldn't shake the feeling that there were deeper layers to the situation than he was being told. Beerus wondered what Nolan was hiding and if he should investigate further. Nolan's voice cut through the tension like a blade, his words carrying an ominous weight. "To blend in with the humans," he began, his tone commanding and authoritative, "you must undertake hero activity. This will show others that you are not to be trifled with, that you are here as a force to be reckoned with." His eyes seemingly bore into Beerus's soul, conveying a silent warning. "Some interested parties have been keeping tabs on you," he continued, his voice dropping to a low growl, "but I have managed to keep them at bay for now. However, we cannot afford to let our guard down. The stakes are too high, and the consequences too dire. We must maintain the facade of benevolence, while secretly working towards our true objectives. Understood?" The junior agent stood tall, his gaze meeting Nolan's with unwavering resolve. Despite the weight of Nolan's words, he exuded an air of confidence and determination.
"Understood," Beerus replied, his voice steady and unwavering. "I will undertake whatever tasks are necessary to fulfill our mission. Rest assured, I will not become a hindrance to the Empire or to my father."
His words rang out with a quiet intensity, matching Nolan's commanding presence with his own strength and conviction. With a nod of acknowledgment, Nolan's intense gaze softened slightly. "Follow me," Nolan commanded. "I know just the place to get you suited up as a hero. And while we're en route, think of a hero name as a cover name. We must ensure you're ready for any challenge that comes our way."
"Lead the way," he responded. With that, Nolan shot forward, breaking the sound barrier several times, and soared through the sky at an incredible speed. Beerus wasted no time in following suit, effortlessly matching Nolan's velocity. As they streaked through the clouds, Nolan observed Beerus's adeptness with a slight frown, his expression unreadable. Nevertheless, they pressed on towards their destination. Soon, they arrived at a shop named Tailor Shoppe and made their way through the back entrance. As they entered, Nolan called out, "Art, are you here?" A curious-looking man with tufts of hair on his head emerged from a back room. "Nolan? Is that you?" he asked, his eyes widening with surprise. They then shook hands as Art turned towards the towering Viltrumite. "And who is this young man? The name is Art Rosenbaum, the fine owner and tailor, if I do say so myself, of this small place," he introduced himself with a warm smile, extending his hand for a handshake.
'I believe the high schoolers would call this man a yapper,' Beerus thought, but his eyes remained neutral. "Beerus," he replied shortly. He met Art's handshake with a firm grip, careful not to exert too much force on the smaller human's hand. Art looked up at the kid with a smile, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "You're a stoic one, aren't you kiddo? Just like Nolan when I first met him," Art remarked with a chuckle, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. He responded with a simple grunt, his expression remaining impassive. Nolan interjected smoothly, guiding the conversation back on track. "Art, this is my nephew," he explained, gesturing towards the slightly brooding Viltrumite. "He's here as an aspiring agent of the World Betterment Committee."
Art was genuinely intrigued by what he had heard, and he expressed his thoughts with a friendly grin. "Is that so, huh? Taking after your uncle is a pretty tall task." Meanwhile, Beerus stood in silence, observing the interaction between the two men. The Tailor Shoppe emanated a certain charm, with bolts of colorful fabrics adorning the walls and sewing machines humming softly in the background. Art, the owner, appeared to have meticulously curated every corner of the shop, evident in the careful arrangement of materials and tools. His keen eye for detail was evident in every stitch and seam, a testament to his craftsmanship and dedication to his trade which Beerus could slightly respect. He looked around the shop and took in every detail of the shop and its surroundings, his senses sharp and alert for any potential danger. "So, what do you think of the place, kiddo?" Art asked, catching Beerus's wandering gaze.
"You have designed the interior admirably, sir," the boy claimed.
"Sir? Sheesh, you are too serious," Art chuckled warmly, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he attempted to dispel the formal air surrounding their conversation. "Just call me Art."
Nolan chimed in, adding to the light-hearted atmosphere with a chuckle of his own. "Sorry about that, Art," he apologized, his tone jovial yet tinged with nostalgia. "Our society back home was far more militaristic than the laid-back atmosphere of this planet. It's going to take some time for him to adjust, I'm afraid," he explained, his words carrying a sense of understanding for Beerus's demeanor.
As the sound of laughter slowly faded away, Art turned to the unofficial hero and asked, "So, young man, have you thought of a hero name for yourself?" Beerus took a moment to collect his thoughts, his Viltrumite mind running at lightning-fast speeds, trying to come up with a name that would strike fear into the hearts of the people on this planet. After a brief pause, Beerus confidently spoke, "I believe Atlas would be a great name for me. It represents the strength and endurance of the Greek Titan." Art's eyebrows rose and was impressed with Beerus's choice and said, "Now, that's a great name, kid! Alright, let's talk about your costume. Do you have any specific design in mind?"
Beerus thought for a moment before replying, "Indeed, I envision my costume to exude an aura of intimidation and strength," he began, his voice carrying a weight of determination. "I desire a primarily black ensemble, crafted with a sleek and form-fitting design that not only complements but accentuates my muscular physique," he continued, his words deliberate and purposeful.
"In addition," Beerus elaborated, "I seek to incorporate a black cloak with a hood into the design, adding an element of mystery and allure to my appearance. Furthermore, I envision a golden emblem emblazoned with the symbol of my home planet, a testament to my origins and heritage," he explained, his gaze steady and unwavering.
"Moreover," Beerus continued, his tone unwavering, "I require lightly armored golden gauntlets, greaves, and a belt adorned with similar gold accents, symbolizing both strength and sophistication." He concluded with a nod of finality, his vision for his hero costume meticulously detailed and unmistakably imposing.
"Ah, I see! That's quite the detailed vision you've got there," Art responded with a jovial chuckle, his eyes sparkling with genuine interest and admiration. "But fear not, my young friend! I'll make sure to have all your requirements seamlessly into the design," he assured Beerus with a confident nod. "Consider it a challenge, and I'm up for it!" Art added with a wide grin, impressed by Beerus's attention to detail. (AN: Imagine the Dwayne Johnson's final Black Adam suit with the cloak and the emblem of Viltrum instead of the lightning)
As the two elderly men conversed, Beerus grew uninterested in their discussion and began to contemplate life on planet Earth. He marveled at the planet's diversity and beauty, and for a moment, he even pictured himself living there. However, he quickly dismissed the thought, understanding that such a traitorous idea would only cloud his judgment. Instead, Beerus focused on logic, contemplating the cost of living among humans on Earth.
His mind was filled with a multitude of issues that plagued the world. He couldn't help but shake his head and ponder over the alarming rate of habitat destruction, the never-ending cycle of crime, the devastating resource wars, the deep-rooted religious and political conflicts, the catastrophic effects of climate change, the rampant pollution, and the pervasive poverty that had engulfed the global issue seemed to cast a dark shadow over any semblance of hope or optimism he might have harbored about life on this planet. From his brief exposure to high school life, Beerus quickly discerned the profound ignorance of many teenagers, blissfully unaware of the existential threats lurking on their doorstep. Without the advanced technology of Viltrum to intervene, Beerus calculated the numbers, arriving at a sobering conclusion: humanity's chances of survival in the next century were alarmingly slim, resting at less than 30%. The grim reality cast a somber hue over his thoughts, stirring a deep sense of urgency within him.
He couldn't fathom the sheer irrationality of humans, willfully destroying their own planet, squandering its precious resources, and turning a blind eye to the cataclysmic repercussions of their actions. To Beerus, they appeared woefully primitive, lacking the foresight and wisdom to secure their own future. He knew that his and Nolan's mission extended beyond mere self-preservation; they were tasked with not only saving their own race but also elevating humanity out of the muck.
Art and Nolan caught the subtle shake of Beerus's head, but chose to overlook it, their focus shifting to Nolan's explanation of the emblem design of Viltrum. Despite Beerus's silent apprehension, he refrained from voicing his concerns, recognizing that it was not his role to meddle in the affairs of Earth—at least for the time being.
*Meanwhile*
Mark's eyes widened in a mixture of shock and delight as he watched the trash bag being sent flying into the air. He had been waiting for this moment with bated breath, and now that it had finally happened, he couldn't contain his excitement. His voice was filled with a sense of disbelief and exhilaration as he exclaimed, "Ah, it's about time!" He couldn't help but feel a surge of joy as he watched the bag soar higher and higher as if it were a symbol of his hope and dreams taking flight.
週次パワーステータス
-- 推薦
ランキング 
-- 推薦
チケット