Vegeta shoots a hard glare at Keats, which also results in a backhand aimed right at the reporter's stomach. A light tap by Saiyan standards, but probably more than that to anyone else. "Perhaps you should stop while you're ahead." Shifting on the bar stool, the Saiyan shows no temperance when the next two glasses are slid down the wooden bar, sparkling liquid finding a quick end to his otherwise black hole of a stomach.

And he will probably be drinking like this until he can finally get a moment of sanity away from the never-ending flow of sass directed at him from the man sitting next to him.

A heavy elbow leans over onto the bar as Greed spoke, eyes hardened as they always were with an unwavering intensity. "So why did you decide to pack up and move everything here anyway? There was absolutely nothing wrong with the last city, unless you found some kind of new cesspool growing over here or something else that you're just not telling us about." Who knew with Greed. He always said he wanted it all. He wonders if there was some kind of artifact or something really of worth that made it worth the time to come here.