Dragon Ball, Saiyans Don't Just Want to Get Stronger!

Keep a low profile! I must be as invisible as a drop of water in the ocean!

When Vitelli landed on the vast plaza in front of the royal palace, it was already packed with people.

Almost every mid-to-high-level Saiyan warrior on the planet had gathered here, and the air was thick with a stifling solemnity and a subtle sense of unease.

At the very front of the crowd stood King Vegeta. His expression was cold and stern, though deep within his eyes lurked a trace of barely perceptible gravity.

Vitelli's arrival caught the attention of King Vegeta.

Those serious eyes swept over, lingering on Vitelli for a moment with a scrutinizing gaze.

Vitelli stepped forward a few paces and knelt respectfully on one knee: "Vitelli pays his respects to my King!"

King Vegeta narrowed his eyes slightly. His scouter beeped as it detected Vitelli's energy, which was holding steady at around 1,900. A curve that could hardly be called a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and his voice carried a condescending tone of approval:

"Hmm. Rise, Vitelli. You are worthy of being Mete's child. To have a battle power approaching 2,000 only months after waking is no disgrace to your father's name. Very good. Continue to work hard and serve Prince Vegeta well in the future."

"I thank my King for the praise! Vitelli will certainly give his all!"

Vitelli responded with an "excited" tone, though his heart remained completely calm.

As if I'd ever serve that eternal second-best.

"Go stand at the back."

King Vegeta waved his hand, his tone returning to indifference. "King Cold is arriving soon; do not offend our honored guests."

"Yes!"

Vitelli felt a surge of secret joy—this was exactly the position he had been hoping for!

He rose quickly, lowered his head, and walked briskly to the very back of the crowd, perfectly blending in as nothing more than background scenery.

King Vegeta's move—seemingly encouraging but actually meant to suppress him by keeping him away from the core—was exactly what he wanted!

After that, time slipped away in the oppressive wait.

I don't know how much time passed before a muffled shout suddenly rippled through the crowd: "They're here!"

In the distant sky, a dense swarm of circular spaceships roared toward them with a destructive momentum, like a plague of locusts!

They completely disregarded the architectural rules of Planet Vegeta, their massive hulls brutally smashing through the towering structures in their path. The sounds of explosions and the groaning of collapsing buildings rose one after another!

Below the palace, the screams and chaos of the civilians could be faintly heard.

Swish!

On the plaza, every single Saiyan, including King Vegeta at the very front, knelt on one knee in perfect unison!

The movement was uniform, carrying a sense of almost humiliating submission.

Vitelli immediately followed suit, crouching down, leaning his body slightly forward, and burying his head even lower.

He locked his energy tightly at the 2,000 mark, making himself look like an unremarkable stone. Now was not the time to attract Frieza's attention.

"All hail King Cold--!" The deafening roar of the crowd surged into the sky, filled with awe and... terror!

King Cold, exceptionally tall and burly with deep purple skin and two horns atop his head, slowly descended from the largest ship.

Beside him, that disproportionately petite white figure, Frieza, stood out with striking prominence!

"Hahahaha! King Vegeta, it has been a long time!"

King Cold's laughter sounded like rolling thunder, making people's eardrums ache.

"All hail King Cold! All hail Lord Frieza!" King Vegeta was the first to stand, his posture extremely low, his tone respectful to the point of sycophancy.

King Cold and Frieza landed slowly.

Just as their feet were about to touch the ground, Vitelli caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye of a group of figures with strange designs and exaggerated movements that had appeared in the open space at the front of the plaza—the Ginyu Force!

They were striking their signature, cringe-inducing poses!

"..." Vitelli's mouth twitched imperceptibly, and he quickly lowered his head, terrified that he might accidentally reveal a flaw.

These clowns, they never forget to show off no matter where they go.

"Oh ho ho ho, King Vegeta, there is no need for such formalities."

Frieza's unique voice, laced with mockery and coldness, rang out. He examined the Saiyan king before him with great interest, the energy radiating from his small body causing the temperature of the entire plaza to plummet.

"Yes, Lord Frieza." King Vegeta lowered his posture even further.

King Cold stood to the side, smiling as if watching a show:

"King Vegeta, from this day forward, your Saiyan race will be under the full command of my son, Frieza. The Cold Force is hereby officially renamed the Frieza Force!"

His voice carried an unquestionable majesty.

"You had better keep your spirits up. Frieza... is even more cold-blooded and cruel than I am."

Before King Cold could finish his sentence, Frieza gently raised a hand to interrupt his father.

His petite body leaned forward slightly, his scarlet eyes sweeping over the sea of kneeling Saiyan warriors below, a bone-chilling smile plastered on his face:

"Saiyans~"

His voice reached every person clearly, carrying a childlike cheerfulness, yet it contained a coldness that could freeze the soul.

"From today on, I am your new master. I, personally, am very, very much looking forward to your performance... I hope you won't disappoint me, hehehe."

As soon as he finished speaking, Frieza casually raised his hand, picked up a smaller, more streamlined scouter from the box held by an attendant, and placed it over his ear.

His scarlet eyes scanned the crowd in the plaza, moving slowly through the scouter's lens.

Every Saiyan caught in his gaze felt as if they were being watched by a venomous snake, instinctively bowing their heads lower, not even daring to breathe.

"Oh?"

Frieza suddenly let out a flippant sound of inquiry, as if he had discovered something interesting. He extended a slender, white finger and pointed toward the top of a high-rise building behind the palace.

"It seems there are some rather unfriendly little bugs here."

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Several thin yet incredibly condensed beams of scarlet energy, like the scythe of the Grim Reaper, erupted instantly from his fingertip!

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The sturdy alloy building was easily pierced, torn apart, and exploded as if it were made of paper!

Flames soared into the sky, followed by billowing smoke! The few figures on the roof who had been holding weapons and trying to observe secretly didn't even manage to finish their screams before they were reduced to cosmic dust in the violent explosion!

The shockwave even reached the edge of the plaza, triggering a wave of stifled gasps and commotion.

Vitelli kept his head buried deep in the crowd, cursing inwardly: That bastard... playing a show of force the moment he arrives!

He glanced up cautiously. He saw King Cold's head bowed even lower, his broad shoulders trembling slightly.

Only mocking amusement remained in Vitelli's heart: The King of the Saiyans? Hah... in the face of absolute power, he is nothing more than a dog. Truly... how laughable.

Seeming to find this boring slaughter uninteresting, Frieza's smile faded, replaced by that same aloof, high-and-mighty indifference.

He tossed the latest model of the scouter onto the ground in front of King Cold, where it landed with a crisp clatter.

"There, Saiyans, a 'little gift' for you. Five hundred of the latest model combat power scouters. As for the functions... they're a bit complex, figure them out yourselves."

He tossed out one final, airy remark: "If you need more, you can ask me anytime, oh ho ho~."

He laughed, stopped looking at anyone, and flew back to his ship with leisurely ease.

King Cold laughed heartily and followed close behind.

The massive fleet, just as it had when it arrived, turned back into a cloud of destruction, brutally tearing through the atmosphere and vanishing into the dim horizon in the blink of an eye.

A meeting filled with coercion, slaughter, and humiliation ended just like that, with a whimper.

A deathly silence fell over the plaza.

After a long while, King Cold slowly stood up, his face ashen and his fists clenched so tightly that his nails nearly dug into his flesh.

The high-ranking officials around him immediately crowded forward, whispering about something.

Vitelli had no interest in lingering.

He only wanted to return to his small room immediately and continue honing his power.

In his view, rather than standing here in impotent rage or discussing countermeasures that were destined to be futile, it was more practical to throw a few thousand more punches and raise his combat power a little bit more.

However, just as he turned to leave, a hurried palace official blocked his path.

The official seemed to be in a rush to report back, speaking to Vitelli with extreme speed:

"Vitelli! Go back and prepare! Next month, Prince Vegeta will awaken from the incubation tank! Your duties as the Prince's guard will take effect immediately! You must guard the Prince at all times, without fail!"

"What?!"

Vitelli was shocked to his core, blurting out, "Wasn't there supposed to be half a year left?!"

The official glared at him impatiently, his tone filled with reprimand:

"Is the Prince's awakening time something for you to discuss? This is the order of King Cold! Go back and prepare, and wait for official notification!"

With that, he ignored the stunned Vitelli and hurried away, merging into the stream of people returning to the palace.

Vitelli stood where he was, watching the official's retreating back, then looked at the oppressive silhouette of the palace, feeling a chill crawl up his spine.

Vegeta awakening half a year early?!

Frieza had just left, and Vegeta was awakening early... this was definitely no coincidence!

King Cold had sensed an unprecedented crisis; he desperately needed his son—the "hope" he had pinned his dreams on—to grow up as quickly as possible to deal with the terrifying pressure brought by Frieza!

Vitelli, as a "guard," had naturally been forcibly tied to this chariot speeding toward a cliff!

This is trouble...

Vitelli frowned. Guarding Vegeta? That arrogant, cold-blooded prince who viewed human life as nothing more than grass?

His own hidden combat power of two thousand was nothing in front of him!

If he wasn't careful, he could be cleared away like trash by other guards; it was best not to expose himself now.

Moreover, staying by Vegeta's side meant his risk of being exposed to the core circle of the Frieza Force would increase dramatically!

He would have to be even more cautious with the use of his scouter, and his ability to hide his energy would have to be honed to perfection!

He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the turmoil in his heart.

Panic would not solve any problems!

"Forget it!" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Vitelli's eyes.

"If the soldiers come, block them; if the water comes, cover it with earth! If it's early, then it's early! If Prince Vegeta wakes up sooner, the time I find an opportunity to slip away to Earth can also be moved up! It might not be a bad thing!"

As for the orders of the Vegeta royal family? Heh.

The only thing he could truly rely on was the power clenched within his own fists!

"Thirteen thousand... still not enough! Far from enough!"

He turned around, no longer looking at the oppressive royal palace, his gaze fixed firmly in the direction of his small hut.

The new Gravity Chamber would arrive in a week, and ten times gravity would be the newest starting point!

"Now... go back and do another thirty thousand push-ups!"

Prince Vegeta's Crushed Pride

The royal palace's banquet hall was brightly lit, the surrounding environment filled with noise and clamor.

The feast celebrating the birth of Prince Vegeta was underway, the air thick with the scent of roasted rare alien creatures, strong spirits, and the distinct, rugged aura of the Saiyans.

Mid-to-high-level Saiyan warriors clinked cups and laughed loudly, but their gazes drifted from time to time toward the high-seated throne.

Prince Vegeta, only four years old but already exuding an astonishing aura, sat upright in a specially made high chair. Despite his young age, his face was already etched with an arrogance and a hint of impatience that did not match his years.

Prince Vegeta wore an exquisite, small-sized battle suit, his arms crossed over his chest as he surveyed the flow of people around him.

King Vegeta was beaming, proudly introducing his son, in whom he placed such high hopes, to his confidants.

The future royal guards Nappa and Raditz stood to the side with tense expressions, but there was one exception... Vitelli, who was currently squatting in the corner, gorging himself on food, viewing these soon-to-be-doomed Saiyans as mere trifles not worth mentioning.

He had absolutely no interest in such occasions filled with hypocrisy and flattery.