One Month Later
Smith emerged from the gravity training room, his gi soaked with sweat, his muscles pleasantly fatigued from pushing himself to 15 times Earth's gravity for two hours. The Saiyan physiology loved this kind of punishment—every session left him slightly stronger than before, the incremental gains adding up over time.
Bulma and Fox waited outside the training facility, their expressions suggesting this wasn't a social call.
"What's the matter?" Smith asked, grabbing a towel from the rack and wiping down his face.
Bulma pulled out her tablet, swiping to the relevant correspondence. "Pepper Potts from Stark Industries contacted us. They're hosting the Stark Industries Expo and want to include our product launch as part of the event."
Smith considered that for a moment. The Stark Expo—Tony's big public spectacle, equal parts technology showcase and ego monument. But it would also draw massive media attention, international corporate representatives, and potential military contracts.
"Coordinate with her," Smith decided. "But make sure Pepper gives us sufficient stage time. We're not settling for a five-minute courtesy slot."
Bulma nodded, already making notes. "We're planning to release two products. First, the second-generation Combat Power Scouter. The upper limit has been increased to 500 points, and we've added video recording with automatic cloud backup functionality."
She swiped to show a sleek prototype—smaller than the first generation, with a more refined interface and what looked like a built-in camera module.
"The second product is a hover vehicle." Bulma's expression shifted to barely-contained excitement. "I've already completed a hand-built prototype. We can use it for the live demonstration."
Smith blinked. "You built a hover car? In a month?"
"I found ground transportation here inconvenient," Bulma said with a shrug, as if constructing anti-gravity vehicles was a minor hobby project. "The bus system is inefficient, and conventional cars are slow. This was simpler than dealing with traffic."
Smith reminded himself that in Bulma's home universe, hover cars were standard consumer products. To her, this was probably less complex than the combat power scouter—just applied physics and engineering rather than exotic energy readings.
"These two products should be enough to make a significant impression at the Stark Expo," Smith agreed. A scouter upgrade and functional anti-gravity technology? Yeah, that would steal Tony's thunder nicely.
Bulma smiled, satisfied, and stepped back to let Fox deliver her report.
Fox opened her own folder, her expression more serious. "During this past month, the addition of werewolves and vampires to our organization has significantly expanded our intelligence network. We've identified numerous criminal operations that were previously off our radar."
She pulled out a map marked with red zones across Southeast Asia. "In particular, we've discovered extensive cyber fraud syndicates, organ trafficking operations, and human smuggling networks operating throughout Southeast Asia. The Assassin Brotherhood has received numerous contracts targeting these organizations, and we've deployed teams to eliminate these networks systematically."
Smith's expression hardened. Those operations weren't just criminal—they were industrial-scale human misery, preying on the desperate and vulnerable. Exactly the kind of evil the Fraternity existed to destroy.
"We need to focus on complete eradication, not just tactical strikes," Smith said. "I don't want to eliminate one cell only to have three more spring up like weeds."
Fox nodded. "We're already implementing permanent solutions. We're establishing new Assassins Brotherhood base locations in the capitals of several key nations in the region. Each location will serve as a coordination hub for continuous operations against these criminal networks."
She tapped the map, indicating planned locations. "Every time one of these organizations attempts to re-establish operations, we eliminate it immediately. Make the business so dangerous that criminals abandon it entirely."
"What's the staffing model?" Smith asked.
"Each new Brotherhood location will be staffed with a four-person core team," Fox explained. "One werewolf for enhanced tracking and combat, one vampire for intelligence gathering through their unique abilities, one Red Room graduate for technical and infiltration skills, and one veteran Fraternity assassin as team leader."
Smith nodded approvingly. That combination would be devastating—superhuman tracking, memory-reading interrogation, elite espionage training, and experienced leadership. Any criminal organization facing that team wouldn't stand a chance.
"When necessary," Fox continued, "we'll coordinate with local armed forces or governmental agencies to address these problems at the systemic level. Some of these operations have governmental corruption enabling them. We'll deal with that too."
"I'm very satisfied with this arrangement," Smith said. "The work of eliminating organized evil cannot stop. This is what the Fraternity exists to do."
He paused, then shifted topics. "What's the situation with General Ross?"
Fox flipped to a different section in her folder. "General Ross paid significant political capital to protect Blonsky. Based on intelligence analysis and our assessment, he'll likely need to leave his military position after his current term ends."
"However," she added, "Blonsky remains completely under his personal command. If Ross transitions to civilian life, Blonsky will follow him."
Smith considered the implications. Ross with a personal super-soldier and no military oversight? That was either very dangerous or very useful, depending on how their relationship developed.
"Our strategic analysis suggests Ross will enter politics after leaving the military," Fox continued. "With Blonsky as leverage—a controllable super-soldier he can deploy for security or demonstration purposes—his starting position will be strong. With our financial support, he could potentially use a Secretary of State appointment as a stepping stone toward a presidential run after two terms."
Smith's eyebrow rose. They were planning Ross's political career eight years in advance. That was ambitious even by Fraternity standards.
"General Ross also plans to devote his final three years in the military to forming a Thunderbolt Squad," Fox said. "A team of enhanced individuals operating under military authority. He's requested our support for this project."
"What kind of support?" Smith asked warily.
"He hasn't specified details yet," Fox admitted. "But given that he witnessed our werewolf security team during the Broadway incident, there's concern he might try to recruit our people as the squad's core members."
Smith shook his head immediately. "We can support one or two personnel as liaisons or advisors. Maybe provide equipment or training. But we're not supplying the backbone of his team. Ross needs to develop his own enhanced personnel roster."
Fox made a note. "I'll communicate those parameters when we follow up with him."
"Strengthen our relationship with Ross overall," Smith added. "Send him an invitation to the Stark Expo—military attendance will be good for our public image. And find out more specifics about this Thunderbolt Squad concept. If it's viable, it could be useful to have a military-backed team that we have influence over."
Fox nodded, already drafting mental outlines for the communications.
"One more thing," Smith said, his tone shifting to something more focused. "While Korin Tower isn't yet completed, I want you, Wick, and the other senior Fraternity members to spend time consulting with Korin. He has knowledge about ki manipulation that could significantly enhance your capabilities."
Smith had been thinking about this for weeks. The senior Fraternity members had all exceeded normal human limits through gravity training. X, Cross and his son Wesley—both possessing the inherited bloodline abilities from their Fraternity lineage—had progressed even faster. But raw power without refined technique was inefficient.
They needed to learn proper ki control. And Korin, despite his feline appearance and eccentric personality, was a legitimate master.
"Remember to bring quality fish as offerings," Smith added. "Korin appreciates proper etiquette. And make sure everyone visits before the tower is officially established. Once it becomes a formal training site with protocols and appointments, casual access will be much more restricted."
Fox's expression showed interest. "I'll coordinate the visits. After all, that cat sage's combat power registered at 190 points on the second-generation scouter."
Smith noticed the hint of respect in her voice. Fox had apparently tested Korin's power level out of curiosity—probably wanting to understand why Smith had invested enormous resources building a 3000-meter tower for a cat. The reading had clearly impressed her.
190 points was roughly equivalent to Master Roshi's power level in early Dragon Ball, before the massive power inflation of later arcs. For someone who'd never engaged in serious combat training, just living on a tower for centuries and occasionally teaching students? That was remarkable.
And it meant Korin's instruction would be genuinely valuable for the Fraternity's elite members.
"Schedule the sessions," Smith confirmed. "Everyone who's exceeded 20 points on the detector should spend time with Korin. Learning proper ki manipulation will multiply their power."
Fox closed her folder, their business concluded for now. "I'll handle the arrangements. Anything else?"
Smith shook his head. "That's all for now. Let me know when Pepper confirms the Stark Expo details."
As Fox and Bulma departed, Smith headed for the showers. Another month, another set of expanding operations. The Fraternity was growing faster than he'd originally planned, but the infrastructure was keeping pace.
Soon they'd have Assassins Brotherhood across Southeast Asia, actively hunting criminal networks. They'd have a new generation of scouters in public hands, making enhanced individuals easier to identify and assess. They'd have hover car technology entering the market, revolutionizing transportation.
And they'd have a direct connection to a sitting general who might become President someday.
Not bad for a transmigrator who'd arrived in this universe with nothing but assassin training and a Dragon Ball gacha system.
Smith smiled as the hot water washed away his training sweat. The pieces were falling into place nicely.