He set up a crude but heavy barbell in the backyard and did squats, deadlifts, and bench presses. He also kept up high-intensity shuttle runs, frog jumps, push-ups, and sit-ups, training until his muscles tore and his bones groaned, stopping only when he had squeezed out every last bit of strength.
It was routine for sweat to soak through his training clothes and form a puddle on the ground.
In the evening, after a short rest, he would return to his exercises in sensing and restoring his "ki."
He found that after intense physical training, his body became even more sensitive to "ki."
Late at night, he studied the Battle Suit and Scouter that had been delivered to him, trying to understand how they worked. He could barely make sense of them, but they still helped him think about how to improve his training efficiency with the resources at hand.
The food delivered by the servants still tasted awful, but at least there was plenty of it, and it was highly nutritious.
Vitelli forced himself to gulp it down every time. He could feel the food turning into surging waves of heat that nourished his exhausted body, speeding up muscle recovery and the buildup of strength.
As an Elite Warrior, he was entitled to these rations.
He rarely left his house and had no interest in the Saiyan society outside, with its culture of fighting and plunder.
Now and then, Saiyan warriors passing by sensed that he had a battle power of around two thousand despite his young age. Combined with his status as one of the prince's guards, this earned him mostly wary or jealous looks, but no one dared provoke him.
Vitelli was happy to have some peace and quiet, taking the art of keeping a low profile to the extreme.
In the palace of Planet Vegeta, King Vegeta tapped his fingers against the cold armrest of his throne. His gaze swept over the officials below, who stood with their heads bowed, his expression exceptionally cold.
"How has that Vitelli been doing lately? The child of Mete and Zol?"
His voice was not loud, but it carried an unquestionable authority.
The official in charge of intelligence immediately stepped forward. "Your Majesty, Lord Vitelli is still staying at his residence. According to the servants who observe him every day, he... almost never goes out. He spends all his time... training."
"Hah! Training?"
A cold, contemptuous smile tugged at the corner of King Vegeta's mouth.
"Hmph! An Elite Warrior born with a battle power of five hundred actually thinks he can grow stronger with that inefficient, clumsy method used by lower-class warriors? How ridiculous! If not for his father Mete's great service to the Saiyans, a nobody like him wouldn't even be worthy of looking up to my son, Vegeta!"
He paused, his tone turning cold. "Keep watching him. He won't cause any trouble. As long as he stays out of trouble, leave him be."
"Yes, Your Majesty." The official quickly acknowledged the order.
King Vegeta turned his attention to a more important matter. "Is there any more specific intelligence about King Cold's son, Frieza?"
At the mention of King Cold, a trace of wariness flickered deep in his eyes.
The officials lowered their heads even further, and the atmosphere grew tense.
The head intelligence officer answered with some trepidation. "Your Majesty, we're very sorry. We've only managed to learn that his name is Frieza. King Cold calls him... a rare genius among the Frieza Race. As for his battle power and personality... our spies haven't been able to obtain any information. Everyone who tried to investigate further has..."
His voice trembled almost imperceptibly.
"A genius?"
King Vegeta slammed his hand against the armrest, his voice rising sharply with all the pride and fury of a Saiyan king. "Him?! My son, Vegeta, the great Saiyan Prince, will arrive in a year with the bearing of a king! Now that's a true genius! No one in the universe can compare!"
His roar echoed through the vast hall, and the officials below fell silent with fear.
After venting his anger, King Vegeta took a deep breath and regained his composure. "When are King Cold and the others arriving?"
"The date has been confirmed, Your Majesty!"
Another official, in charge of foreign affairs, hurriedly spoke up. "In three months! King Cold will personally bring his son Frieza to visit Planet Vegeta and... pay his respects to you!"
He made a point of emphasizing the words "pay his respects."
King Vegeta was clearly pleased by the phrasing. His tense expression softened a little, and he gave a satisfied snort.
"Good. Make all the preparations for their arrival. We must show them the spirit of the Saiyans! Do not let me down!"
"Yes, Your Majesty!" the officials answered in unison.
After the officials had left, King Vegeta went alone to the depths of the palace, where a massive incubation tank was protected by layers of energy shields.
Inside, a small figure curled up in the pale green nutrient fluid, still unconscious. It was Prince Vegeta.
King Vegeta pressed his broad palm against the cold wall of the tank, his eyes feverish with anticipation.
In a voice so low it was almost a whisper, audible only to himself, he murmured, "My son... Vegeta... soon... the day you're born is almost here..."
He gazed at the tiny body as if he could see an infinitely glorious future through it. Lowering his voice further, he spoke with nearly fanatical conviction.
"You will be... the legendary... Super Saiyan! You will lead the Saiyans to conquer this entire expanse of stars! Any obstacle, whether it's King Cold... or that Frieza... will grovel at your feet!"
As he watched Vegeta's figure shifting slightly inside the tank, a light called ambition blazed in King Vegeta's otherwise cold eyes.
While Prince Vegeta remained unconscious, another peaceful month passed, and Vitelli raised the intensity of his training once more.
Basic physical training no longer satisfied him.
With the help of several low-ranking alien engineers, he built an extremely crude prototype of a Gravity Chamber in one corner of his backyard.
It was primitive and covered only a small area. The gravity fluctuated between one and a half and three times Planet Vegeta's gravity.
But Vitelli treasured it! This thing was far more efficient than training with weights alone!
At that moment, he was training at an extremely high intensity with his upper body bare, under about two and a half times the normal gravity.
Every punch and kick came with violent muscle contractions and a heavy whoosh through the air.
His sweat had long since dried, and his skin had turned red from the heat. Steam curled up from the top of his head.
His gaze was terrifyingly focused, and the white vapor from his breath warped under the abnormal gravity.
"Not enough! Give me... more!" Vitelli roared inwardly, forcing more ki into every part of his body to fight the crushing weight and push himself to unleash even greater strength.
He could feel his power boiling within him, hammered, compressed, and refined under the immense pressure!
Humm—!
The crude gravity-field generator groaned under the strain, and the gravity suddenly surged to nearly three times normal!
"Raaah—!"
Vitelli seized the moment of peak pressure, gathered all his strength and will into one fist, and struck with all his might!
Boom!
The air seemed to compress and explode, releasing a deep, muffled blast! An invisible shock wave spread out from his fist, sending tiny metal fragments skittering off the ground.
The instant his punch landed, Vitelli clearly felt that some invisible "gate" inside him had been forced open by the extreme pressure and explosive force!
A far greater, more concentrated torrent of energy surged from deep within his body!
At the same time, the number on the lens of the Scouter he had been wearing jumped like a wild horse: 2,100... 3,200... 5,500... 6,200... 6,800... 7,200!
The number finally stopped at 7,200!
"Haah... haah... haah..." Vitelli panted heavily, staring at the glaring number on the lens in disbelief.
More than two months! He had gone from an initial battle power of 500 to 7,200! Even he was stunned by that rate of growth. The crude Gravity Chamber, combined with pushing himself to his limits and guiding his "ki," had worked wonders!
"Looks like I won't just reach ten thousand! I should have about ten months of freedom left..."
A faint smile appeared on Vitelli's lips. After all his progress, he was confident he could raise his battle power above fifty thousand by the time Vegeta was born!
"From here, I just need to keep at it. Once Vegeta sets out on a mission... I'll fake my death and get away! Then I'll head straight to Earth!"
Earth's martial arts would be a great help to him. And with Bulma, the genius scientist, why wouldn't he turn to her family if he wanted to grow stronger quickly?
Besides... Planet Vegeta wasn't safe!
He had planned it all out by now. As long as he didn't get reckless and nothing went wrong, he could leave before Planet Vegeta was destroyed and head for that remote planet, Earth.
"Age 737... It's Age 731 now. I've got plenty of time!"
As for Planet Vegeta being destroyed... what did that have to do with him?
In a word, don't drag him into it. They weren't close!
Chapter 2: Frieza's Arrival!
Another two months passed.
Amid the sweat, the shouts, and the rumble of the Gravity Chamber, time slipped by.
For Vitelli, training wasn't a grueling ordeal. It was simply a measure of how much stronger he was getting.
The wildly fluctuating pressure inside the crude Gravity Chamber had become his best whetstone.
Every time he pushed past his limits, he forcibly awakened another sliver of the dormant potential in his Saiyan blood.
Boring? Not a chance!
Feeling his muscle fibers grow tougher as they tore and regenerated, feeling the "ki" surging through his body grow ever more concentrated and powerful, gave him a sense of fulfillment that was almost pathological.
"Haah—!"
Under three times Planet Vegeta's gravity, Vitelli moved so fast that his figure blurred. His heavy punches and kicks slammed into the specially made alloy target with a thunderous boom.
The target's surface was already covered in a web of cracks and deep fist marks. Sweat streamed down him like a brook, gathering in a small puddle at his feet before instantly evaporating into mist in the heat.
Humm!
The Gravity Chamber let out a final, strained wail and shut down completely. Wisps of pungent smoke curled from its control panel.
"Tch! Broken again..." Vitelli panted as he stopped, then helplessly shook his head at the number on the lens, which had finally settled at 13,000.
This crude device could no longer keep up with his current strength and training needs.
He had already made a request to the low-ranking aliens on Planet Vegeta who handled research and logistics:
Build a mature, stable, more powerful Gravity Chamber! The main requirements were stable, adjustable gravity, with the highest possible multiplier.
The reply had arrived a week ago.
It could be done, but Planet Vegeta's backward gravity technology limited the maximum to ten times the planet's gravity.
"Ten times?"
Vitelli had frowned as soon as he heard that. It was far below his expectations.
In the original story, Bulma's family could build one that reached five hundred times!
But then he thought, forget it. He was only passing through here anyway.
"Fine, ten times it is. Better than nothing. I can make do, as long as it's ready in a week."
He had agreed, all the while calculating in his mind.
"I won't be staying in this lousy place much longer. Once I reach Earth, I can get that genius girl at Capsule Corporation to help. Building a Gravity Chamber that can reach a few hundred times normal should be a piece of cake for her."
Just as he was thinking about how to use the new Gravity Chamber to aim for even greater heights, someone knocked on the door of his residence, with the unmistakable, commanding rhythm of the palace.
When he opened the door, a Saiyan warrior in a standard Battle Suit stood outside, his face expressionless.
He said coldly, "Elite Warrior Vitelli, by order of King Vegeta, report to the palace courtyard immediately and await King Cold's arrival!"
King Cold?!
Vitelli's heart jolted! The name instantly brought back the striking figure he remembered from watching the anime.
Frieza! King Cold... Frieza's father! Why were they coming at this point in time?
"Late Age 731... Frieza's first official visit to Planet Vegeta?"
Vitelli quickly searched his hazy memories of the timeline.
That was right! According to the original story, this was when Frieza first toured the forces under his command as the heir to his army, and brought the Saiyans a new model of Scouter!
"Damn it! The Scouter!"
Vitelli was instantly on high alert. The Scouter Frieza brought wouldn't be one of Planet Vegeta's outdated models!
It would be more precise, and might even have more advanced eavesdropping and tracking functions!
He glanced down at the old Scouter he had been wearing, then felt the energy in his body, which he had deliberately suppressed to around three thousand.
"From now on... I need to be careful with this kind of equipment! I can't let the slightest abnormality show under Frieza's nose!"
"Understood. I'll go at once."
Vitelli pushed his thoughts aside and answered calmly.
He followed the messenger out of his residence, then rose slightly into the air and flew toward the palace.
His speed was neither fast nor slow, and he kept his energy steady at a level befitting a talented Elite Warrior who had only recently awakened.