Sun Family Nanny Goes Online

When Son Gothao and Son Gochi were one year old, Son Goku had a "heavy responsibility" besides his training.

"King Piccolo!"

Son Goku's voice drifted from outside the Gravity Chamber. King Piccolo wiped away his sweat and walked out, only to see Son Goku holding two one-year-old children in his arms.

"Help me watch Gothao and Gochi," Son Goku said, shoving the two children into King Piccolo's arms. "I'm going to train."

King Piccolo froze.

He looked down at the two little ones in his arms. One had messy black hair and was grinning at him, revealing a full set of baby teeth. The other had light blue hair, clutching his clothes with wide, blinking eyes.

"W-wait!" King Piccolo panicked. "I... I don't know how to take care of kids!"

"It's fine, it's simple," Son Goku waved his hand. "Feed them if they're hungry, give them water if they're thirsty. Just keep them company."

"But—"

"Good luck!"

Son Goku vanished in a flash, leaving King Piccolo and the two babies staring at each other.

"..."

King Piccolo stood there holding the two children, his green face etched with despair.

"I... I am King Piccolo..."

"How am I... babysitting?!"

"Waaah— Daddy— Daddy!"

Perhaps startled by Son Goku's sudden departure or frightened by being held by a green-skinned man, Son Gochi suddenly burst into tears.

"Waaah— Daddy— Waaah— Daddy—"

Son Gothao followed suit, crying along with him.

"D-don't cry!" King Piccolo swayed back and forth, flustered. "I... I'm not bullying you!"

The crying grew louder.

Cold sweat beaded on King Piccolo's forehead, his eyes filled with panic. He tried to use his psychic powers to soothe them, but the two Saiyan-Earthling hybrids were completely unaffected.

"Damn it... damn it..." King Piccolo gritted his teeth, then suddenly remembered something. "Right... ki..."

King Piccolo took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

He carefully channeled that vast energy within him, not the violent ki used for combat, but the gentlest, calmest thread of it.

Namekians have an innate affinity with nature; their ki inherently carries the rhythm of life.

A faint green, almost invisible halo seeped from his palms, slowly enveloping the two crying children.

The ki was warm and calm, devoid of aggression, wrapping around them gently like a silent comfort.

A miracle occurred.

Gochi's crying gradually subsided. He hiccuped, his obsidian eyes curiously fixed on King Piccolo's green face, his little nose twitching. Then, he did something King Piccolo never expected—

He reached out his tiny hand and grabbed the antenna on top of King Piccolo's head.

"An... tenna..." the little one mumbled in a tearful, milky voice, tugging hard with his fingers. "Green... green... antenna..."

"Ugh!" King Piccolo winced. A Namekian's antennae are extremely sensitive sensory organs connected to the central nervous system. His entire body stiffened, and he nearly pushed the child away. But looking at Gochi's tear-streaked face, now finally wearing a smile, he gritted his teeth and didn't pull away.

"Y-you can't pull that..." King Piccolo squeezed the words through his teeth, though his voice was unexpectedly devoid of anger. "That is... a very important organ."

"An... tenna..." Gothao also stopped crying and leaned in, patting King Piccolo's chest with his small hands. It made a soft "pat-pat" sound, as if testing the hardness of the Namekian's muscles. Then, he reached out his hand, aiming clearly for King Piccolo's other antenna.

"Wait—" Before King Piccolo could stop him, the second antenna fell into the clutches of the enemy.

The two little ones each grabbed an antenna, laughing until they were drooling.

This... this feeling...

He looked down at Gochi, who was clutching his antenna, and then at Gothao, who was looking up with a silly grin.

The two little ones radiated a pure, flawless life force—that hot, warm ki unique to the hybrid of Saiyan and Earthling. That aura had no killing intent, no calculation, only a pure, unreserved trust.

Why...

Don't I hate it?

From that day on, King Piccolo became the "exclusive nanny" for Son Gochi and Son Gothao.

At first, he refused—and he refused quite thoroughly.

"Son Goku!" King Piccolo grabbed the collar of Goku, who had just returned from training, blue veins bulging on his green face. "I came here to get stronger! Not to be your family's nanny! Don't even think about shoving those two little ones on me starting tomorrow!"

"Just one hour, please!" Son Goku pressed his palms together, looking sincere. "Chi-Chi is visiting Master Roshi, I really have no choice!"

"No!"

"Then... in exchange, I'll train with you?" Son Goku blinked. "Full power."

"..." King Piccolo's hand loosened for a moment.

"...Deal." Piccolo turned his face away, his voice muffled. "But only this once."

However, "only this once" quickly turned into an infinite loop of "one last time."

Piccolo found that he had actually started to look forward to that "babysitting time." He told himself it was only because Son Goku owed him training time.

But the Namekian's keen perception made it impossible for him to deceive his own heart.

When Wuqi learned to walk, the first person he threw himself into was Piccolo.

When Wuhao called him "Uncle Piccolo" for the first time, Piccolo froze for a full minute, then turned his face away, a suspicious blush appearing on his green face.

"I... I'm not your uncle..." he muttered, yet he held them tighter.

More than half a year later.

Inside the Large Gravity Chamber, Piccolo was practicing his punches under fifteen times gravity. His moves were several times sharper than before, and a green aura rose around his body.

"Uncle Piccolo!"

Piccolo's movements stalled instantly. He immediately shut off the gravity device, retracted his aura, and pushed the door open to step out.

Outside the gravity chamber, Wuqi and Wuhao, now nearly two years old, were standing at the door.

The two little ones had grown quite a bit, wearing baby-sized martial arts uniforms from the Hoi-Poi Capsule Corporation, each holding a crooked wildflower in their hands.

The flowers were in a sorry state, with several petals missing and stems bent and twisted, clearly just plucked from the garden.

Wuqi's black hair was messier than ever, and there was a smudge of dirt on his face, as if he had just been rolling in the grass. Wuhao's light blue hair had grown a bit longer, shimmering with a soft luster in the sunlight, his large eyes filled with anticipation.

"For... for Uncle Piccolo..." Wuqi said in a milky voice, standing on his tiptoes, trying hard to hold the flower higher. He was nearly two now and spoke much more fluently than before.

"Flower..." Wuhao also stood on his tiptoes, carefully tucking the blue wildflower into the lapel of Piccolo's gi. "Looked for a long time... only... two..."

Piccolo was stunned.

He looked down at the two crooked, dying wildflowers, then at the innocent, expectant smiles of the two little ones.

There were traces of dirt on their small hands, grass clippings hidden under their fingernails, and fresh scrapes on their knees.

An unprecedented warmth surged from the heart of the Namekian—a heart usually used only to sense battle auras—slowly flowing through his entire body.

Damn it...

He cursed under his breath, but his voice was impossibly hoarse.

So sweet...

He crouched down, his movements incredibly gentle. He softly ruffled Wuqi's messy black hair and then stroked Wuhao's light blue head.

"...Thank you," he said.

His voice was so gentle that even he couldn't believe it.

Wuhao took the opportunity to lunge forward, wrapping his small arms around Piccolo's neck and planting a "smack" on his green cheek.

"Uncle Piccolo... is the best!"

Wuqi followed suit, leaning in and leaving a milky-scented saliva mark on the other side of Piccolo's face.

Piccolo went completely rigid.

These guys...

Really...

...I can't do anything about you.

He reached out, pulling both children into his arms, one in each hand.

His embrace was tight, so tight that Wuhao and Wuqi both let out a soft "ooh," but neither child struggled.

In the distance, Son Goku leaned against the wall, watching the scene, a meaningful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Piccolo..."

"Welcome to... the Son family."