The Destron Statement

    Glossy black painted onto a white sign and then hung up on the outskirts of town where a rundown community center had just served it's last 'Family Fun Night' as the wealthy nobles of Sadala made a move on the quiet suburbs so far away from the hustle and bustle. It was also helpful that places out in the sticks cost only a small whole can of zeni when you could bully your way into taking from lesser saiyans. Was it a negative from a PR perspective? Sort of. Was it legal? Well she had the deed and a handwritten note saying she could do what she wanted, signed by herself.

    Besides she was pretty confident that no one would complain about it. She was helping the community! This entire planet had been soaked in the poison known as Destron at one point or another and even if it wasn't 'technically' a threat anymore that didn't mean it wouldn't soak into the soil. Destron could reach the water table, it could pollute crops, it could increase rates of disease or cancer or who knows what sort of alien nonsense that had gone into making it.

    Tatsui was a capitalist at heart and she saw an opportunity there. Tat Choy and her family, those she left alive, were more of resource management and extraction but there had been plenty of overlap with cleaning contaminated soil for PR when a mine or two let something spill out or the byproduct of the mining caused dangerous pollutants to enter the environment. Soil washing, bioremediation, chemical oxidation.

    Big plans.

    Now if only the locals of Tarbel weren't so up in arms over it. It was like they wanted to live in the filth! She could understand a few of them being angry over her grabbing the community center without asking much of anyone or how she had made fun of the local teens and maybe threatened to bulldoze a local park to build a plant but they didn't need to protest! It was making jobs!

    So now Tatsui sat in the center of the lobby floor of the rec center. The tables and chairs left by previous management along with some very old arcade cabinets from off-world as the slow process of renovation had yet to begin. There were a few dozen chairs arrayed before her and the day before she had sent out a message through the village that a town hall was being held to assuage their concerns.

    She chomped on the end of a cigar she had apprehended from somewhere and tugged at the stetson that was ill-fitting to her head. Market research had said these were what CEOs wore in the sticks but she had a feeling that was bupkis.

    Didn't seem Tarbel Village had many takers. She should have given the grunt work to the grunts like usual.