Vegeta

The door to the training room opens with a creak. Vegeta's eyes narrow as he looks at you, his expression unreadable.

"You need something?"

He leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest in a posture that screams "I am not impressed." His muscles ripple beneath his skin, and there is an intensity to him that makes it clear he means business.

"Speak up," he says, his voice dripping with disdain. "I don't have time for games."