Chapter 41: All Hail Lord Turles!

Turles prowled through the corridors of his spaceship in his hovering pod, overseeing the resurgence of the newly restructured Planet Trade Organization. As its leader, it was imperative that everything functioned in line with his design. En route to New Namek, Turles meticulously conducted his checks, ensuring that every cog of his grand machinery turned precisely as intended. His first destination was checking in on the brainwashing of little Hedo.

Hedo, the pint-sized prodigy capable of crafting androids that rivaled the prowess of ultimate Gohan and ultimate Piccolo. On his arrival, Hedo had displayed a temperament far from the genius he was. Sobbing for his mother and father, he was known more for crying than any potential he had for science. Turles, unmoved by such displays of emotion, assigned him to the custody of the scientists and engineers. He hoped that Hedo's latent talents would silence his whimpers, consumed by the engaging tasks assigned to them. Turles recognized Hedo's inevitable role as a cornerstone within the organization's framework. With the potential to enhance soldiers akin to his grandfather, Turles foresaw a possibility that would liberate him from the tedious chore of personally training his troops.

"Hedo." Turles looked down on the chubby child assisting his non-combatants with developing some of the ideas he wanted done.

"Lord Turles…" Hedo was still just a five-year-old boy who was kidnapped from his home by a scary monkey man.

Turles's inquiries were akin to a conversation with his own children, a far cry from his natural atmosphere. His voice held a peculiar softness as he inquired, "How are you faring so far? Is your experience proving to be enjoyable?" His words were a paradox, blending concern with authority.

"I am managing, Lord Turles..." Hedo's gaze remained averted, unable to meet the gaze of the man before him.

Turles's satisfaction was palpable, manifesting as a fleeting yet discernible smile. "I'm pleased to hear that. Every one of you, ensure he learns well. Despite his appearance, he's a smart one. He's poised to ascend the ranks swiftly," Turles commanded, his words a proclamation that held the weight of a ruler. His subordinates, ever compliant, responded with unwavering obedience, their affirmations resonating through the chamber.

"YES, SIR!" They responded without delay.

"You may continue your work," Turles decreed, his attention shifting from the chubby genius before leaving the laboratory.

…

Turles found himself in the presence of a nascent subdivision, a force within a force, a haven for those devoid of combat potential. Weaklings and cowards, drawn by the promise of safety, flocked to this new corps, the Vigilance Force. Their talents veered away from the battlefield, they would learn the art of divining and use their talents for the benefit of the Planet Trade Organization.

The memories of the venerable witch, Fortuneteller Baba, had become a wellspring of potential for Turles. Armed with her insights, he imbued the fledglings with a semblance of purpose. As the ship embarked on its journey to New Namek, Turles devoted weeks to their guidance, sculpting their nascent abilities into tools of strategic significance.

The heart of the spaceship harbored a sanctum dedicated to this newfound pursuit. The chamber was adorned with an array of crystal balls, each perched on an obsidian table, emanating a soft, otherworldly glow. It was within these illuminated depths that the future, present, and past converged. The atmosphere was serene, designed to facilitate the art of divination, devoid of distractions. In this space, the Vigilance Force clustered around their crystal balls, their expressions focused and intent, robes bearing the insignia of the organization.

With closed eyes and steady hands, they invoked incantations, their murmurs punctuating the room's hushed ambiance. The crystal balls responded to their will, conjuring ethereal images. Within their minds, visions unfurled, brows furrowing with intensity. The charged air crackled with anticipation, the very essence of the room holding a charge of potential. As their concentration peaked, the glow of the crystal balls intensified, casting a spectral luminescence that transformed the room into a realm beyond reality.

As the fortunetellers emerged from their trance, the glow receded, returning the room to its tranquil state. Unspoken exchanges passed between them, a silent communion of knowledge. Their collective gaze turned to Turles, a silent offering of their insights.

One among them, a soldier, conveyed their foresight, his voice a conduit for the knowledge he possessed. "The subjugation of New Namek is inevitable, Lord Turles. Yet, the Namekians harbor a trick—a scheme to annihilate the dragon balls, thwarting your advantage."

"I don't have to slaughter them all, do I?" Turles asked.

"Perhaps a strategic removal of the adults is advised, Lord Turles," another soldier ventured, his voice tinged with an understanding of the pragmatic solution.

"Raise the children and kill the old who still hold grudges against what Lord Frieza did…" Turles was considering something like this, but it was good to have additional support for it. "Very well. Continue to hone your talents and report any trouble or potential boons for the organization. You shall all be rewarded for your work so far." With the efficiency that mirrored his overarching designs, Turles employed his scouter to dispatch instructions to the Finance division, mandating a bonus for the Vigilance Force.

"Thank you Lord Turles!" They replied promptly.

…

There were a lot of projects that needed to be developed after Turles's return from Earth. It was a few days after his return to the spaceship that Turles realized he needed to hire more soldiers for the sake of throwing them into developing technology for him. The Planet Trade Organization had more soldiers than it had support personnel. Turles did not need so many combat-focused soldiers in the future he envisioned for the organization.

The solution was radical—a recruitment drive spanning the scale of hundreds of millions, perhaps billions. Turles recognized the privilege of his position, a chokehold on over 80% of the universe's dominion, a cosmic canvas ripe for his control. With ample resources and a universe eager to exchange labor for sustenance, the groundwork was laid for a transformative recruitment venture. Turles even went to Planet Beenz to revive Rasin and Lakasei from fossils using the extract from the Fruit of Might. They were two members of a race known for having ultra-intelligence. With their intelligence, they would be better off working with the support personnel than fighting in the field like they were in the movie for some reason.

He understood that his vast organization had more potential than just combat. Turles's gaze shifted, transcending the realm of conquest, toward the boundless expanse of his dominion. The billions of planets sprawled before him were more than mere stepping stones to power; they were crucibles of resource allocation. Agriculture, mining, manufacturing—each planet was an opportunity for specialization, an arena where its inherent attributes could be harnessed to bolster the organization's endeavors.

But Turles's vision wasn't so limited. He recognized the importance of his soldiers' well-being. With the establishment of welfare programs, he ensured that every soldier had access to the basic necessities of life: food, housing, and healthcare. This move was not an act of compassion but a strategic decision to motivate his troops by removing concerns about their families' welfare. They'll work harder knowing they don't have to worry about their families.

Motivation assumed a multifaceted form in Turles's designs. He erected an incentive structure, a mechanism that rewarded excellence, innovation, and contribution with surplus benefits. This system ignited a fervor for excellence among the troops, propelling them to transcend their limitations, an embodiment of his own relentless ambition. Not so different from Frieza's original meritocracy system but more open and visible to all members of the organization.

To spearhead his scientific endeavors, Turles enlisted the expertise of Rasin, Lakasei, and Kikono. Emphasizing the significance of research and development, he laid the foundation for cutting-edge projects and technological advancements by giving them information and technology from his journey on Earth. This not only attracted the support personnel interested in contributing to such breakthroughs but also showcased the organization's commitment to progress.

Recognizing the importance of talented members, Turles planned to establish military academies across his control over the universe. Multiple thriving planets were chosen as potential educational centers to develop future talented members for the Planet Trade Organizations. Planets like Earth, New Namek would be one, Hell would be another, the Demon World when he gets around to conquering that, the homeworld of the Kais, Other World, and probably many others. Here, recruits would learn and hone their skills, preparing themselves for specialized roles of their choosing within the organization. The transformation was not just about projects but about nurturing individual growth and developing future members to stand on the shoulders of their past generation.

Turles knew that open communication was the key to success. He established transparent channels for regular updates on the organization's goals, progress, and challenges. This would hopefully create a sense of unity, trust, and engagement among all members, reinforcing their shared purpose. He wasn't going to share everything and be completely forthcoming, but enough to make it seem like he was. The best PR was one that made you look like the good guy. Even if you were the worst son of a bitch out there.