The desolate Gobi was filled with the smell of gunpowder and burning.
The once-arrogant King Cold, along with his enormous spaceship, had been completely reduced to ashes beneath the red-haired youth's sword.
The wind gently brushed through the youth's crimson short hair.
He sheathed his sword, and the golden radiance of Super Saiyan had long since faded, revealing a young face.
He turned around and looked at the Z Fighters approaching him, his eyes carrying an indescribably complicated emotion—nostalgia, excitement, and a deep trace of sorrow.
"Hey! Brat!"
Before Sun Wuxiu and Goku could speak, a figure charged before the youth in a rage.
Vegeta stared fixedly at the red-haired youth, the bloodshot veins in his eyes clearly visible.
"Who the hell are you?!"
Vegeta's tone was aggressive, practically a roar.
"Don't tell me you're just some passing Saiyan! There are only a few surviving Saiyans left in this universe!"
"That aura of yours... and that transformation..."
Vegeta pointed at the youth's nose, his finger trembling.
"Where the hell did you come from?! Speak!!"
Faced with Vegeta's interrogation, the red-haired youth did not get angry. Instead, his gaze softened somewhat.
Looking at this irritable, arrogant, yet energetic "father" before him, the corners of his mouth even lifted slightly.
"I'm sorry."
The youth gently shook his head, his tone full of apology.
"As for my origins, and my purpose in coming here..."
His gaze passed over Vegeta and settled on Sun Wuxiu and Son Goku behind him.
"I can only tell Mr. Wuxiu and Mr. Goku."
"What?!!!"
Vegeta felt like his lungs were about to explode from rage.
"You dare ignore this prince?! You'll only tell those two?!"
"So you're saying this prince isn't qualified to hear it?!"
"I'm truly sorry."
The youth lowered his head in a bow, but his