Three days later.
Piccolo's residence.
Raditz knelt beside a huge boulder, its surface scorching hot from the sun, his tail drooping listlessly behind him.
He held two enormous metal buckets. Mud and grass clippings covered the brown Battle Suit he had once been so proud of, and the armor on his right shoulder had long since disappeared.
"Piccolo..."
He looked up, his usually fierce, narrow eyes now filled with pleading.
"Could I take a break? I've already hauled three hundred loads of water... all the way from a river a hundred kilometers away. My legs... my legs are shaking."
Piccolo sat coldly atop a towering rock, arms folded across his chest. His green figure looked like a demon god beneath the blazing sun. He didn't even raise an eyelid.
"No."
"But—"
"Son Goku said," Piccolo finally lowered his head, his white eyes devoid of warmth, "if you don't work, you don't eat. Want to go hungry?"
Raditz's throat bobbed.
He lowered his head and looked at his hands. These hands had once gathered purple energy into a sphere, once destroyed a city in an instant, once made countless Low-Class Warriors tremble in fear...
And now they were hauling water.
I must be the most miserable Saiyan in the universe.
He cursed under his breath, seething.
No, the most miserable Elite Warrior in the universe. If Vegeta saw me like this... he'd laugh so hard he'd spit out a lung.
Images of the Frieza Force flashed through his mind—the cold metal corridors, the pungent smell of nutrient paste, Elite Warriors barking at Low-Class Warriors, the corpses strewn across the ground after a battle...
There, being an Elite Warrior meant privilege. It meant you could steal food from the lower ranks, claim the best sleep pods, and decide whether the weak lived or died.
But here...
"Move it!" Piccolo's voice lashed at him like a whip. "Haul another fifty loads before sunset, or you're sleeping outside tonight."
Raditz shuddered and instinctively grabbed the buckets. "Y-yes!"
Damn it... damn it!
How did I end up like this? I'm Raditz! An elite with a battle power of fifteen hundred! These trash on this planet...
He glanced back at Piccolo.
That green monster has a slightly lower battle power than me, yet he toys with me like I'm a mouse. And Kakarot... my younger brother, who was born a Low-Class Warrior, is now as powerful as some kind of legend.
Earth... what the hell is this place?
Yet strangely, as he reached the river and plunged the buckets into its cool waters, the humiliation rising inside him was suddenly eased, just a little, by an unfamiliar sense of calm.
No pursuers.
No surveillance from Frieza.
No death order that could arrive at any moment.
Only the wind, the water, and the sound of his own ragged breathing.
Raditz stared blankly at his reflection on the water's surface—unkempt, disheveled, but... still alive.
"Splash—"
He abruptly lifted the buckets, cutting off his thoughts.
What am I thinking?! This kind of weakness... is a disgrace to the Saiyans!
He gritted his teeth and turned back.
"Piccolo!"
A familiar voice rang out from the sky, as cheerful as ever.
Piccolo looked up and saw Son Goku slowly descending beside the rock.
"Son Goku," Piccolo stood and asked coldly, "you're finally here. Take this Saiyan away. He's too slow at hauling water and wasting my time."
"Heh heh, I came to take him home this time!" Son Goku said with a smile, glancing at the distant figure trudging along. "Raditz! Come over here!"
At the sound of his name, the bucket in Raditz's hand clanged to the ground. He practically crawled his way over, his eyes shining with the light of someone who had narrowly escaped death.
"Really?! I can finally leave this hellhole?!"
Piccolo shot him a cold look, his voice as if it had been pulled from an ice cellar.
"What did you say?"
Raditz shuddered, his tail instantly tucking between his legs as he shook his head like a rattle drum. "N-nothing... I was saying... Lord Piccolo's place has beautiful scenery... It's perfect for training..."
Son Goku burst out laughing and slapped Raditz on the back, nearly knocking him flat. "Let's go! I'm taking you home!"
He turned to Piccolo. "Come on, you're coming home with me too!"
Piccolo frowned. "I don't need—"
"Chi-Chi made lots of food," Goku interrupted, winking. "There's Namekian-style vegetable soup, just the way you like it."
Piccolo was silent for two seconds, then turned around. "...Lead the way."
West City, Capsule Corporation mansion.
Raditz stood in the middle of the living room, feeling completely out of place. He looked at the luxurious decor and advanced equipment around him.
"Th-this is Kakarot's home?!"
His worldview was crumbling.
Even the quarters of the highest-ranking officers in the Frieza Force reeked of machine oil and disinfectant. But this place... this place was more luxurious than Frieza's flagship, yet it made him feel more... uncomfortable than anywhere else.
"So," Bulma folded her arms and arched an eyebrow at the tall Saiyan before her, "this is your 'stupid older brother'?"
She put extra emphasis on the word "stupid."
Raditz shifted awkwardly. He instinctively tried to adopt the haughty air of a Saiyan Elite Warrior, but his body reacted first: he hunched his shoulders and avoided her gaze.
"I..."
"Raditz," Son Goku slapped him on the back, "say hello. This is Bulma, my wife... one of the most important people in my life."
Under Son Goku's "intimidation," Raditz reluctantly bowed his head. He tried to make his voice sound more confident, but what came out was a timid squeak.
"H-hello..."
"Too quiet," Son Goku narrowed his eyes.
"Hello!!!" Raditz shouted, his voice echoing through the living room and making the crystal chandelier rattle.
Bulma covered her ears, looking annoyed. "All right, all right, no need to yell. Goku, why'd you bring this guy back? Don't tell me you're planning to keep him. Our house is lively enough already."
"No," Son Goku took the Scouter from Raditz and handed it to Bulma. "Could you do me a favor? Remove the listening system inside this, then improve it. Frieza can use it to eavesdrop. It's too dangerous."
Bulma took the Scouter and pushed up her glasses. Her disdainful look instantly gave way to technical enthusiasm. "Oh? Alien technology? Interesting... The energy circuit design is completely different from anything on Earth... Let me take a look..."
She ran off toward the laboratory, her light-purple ponytail swishing behind her.
Son Goku then turned to Chi-Chi, who was standing nearby.
Chi-Chi smiled warmly, a spatula in her hand and an apron tied around her waist. The scent of the kitchen clung to her. "You're back, Goku? Dinner will be ready soon. Is this... Mr. Raditz?"
"Yeah," Son Goku nodded. "Chi-Chi, this is my older brother. He'll be staying with us from now on, so please look after him."
Chi-Chi smiled warmly.
"Of course. Welcome, Mr. Raditz. Do you like rice or noodles? Or... curry? I just bought some beef today."
Raditz froze.
It was as though an invisible bolt of lightning had struck the top of his head, leaving him rooted to the spot.
"L-look after me?"
"She's asking what I want to eat?!"
In the Frieza Force, Low-Class Warriors could barely get enough synthetic nutrient paste to eat, and the orders of Elite Warriors were absolute.
No one had ever... asked him what he wanted to eat. No one had ever welcomed him.
"I..." Raditz rasped. "Rice... is fine..."
"Okay! I'll make curry rice tonight!" Chi-Chi said with a smile as she went into the kitchen. She even began humming as she went. "Wuhao! Wuqi! Go wash your hands. Dinner's almost ready!"
Raditz stood where he was, feeling heat prickle behind his eyes.
He hurriedly lowered his head, not wanting anyone to see the look on his face.
Th-this is... home?
Not a flagship, not a barracks, not a killing field... but a place where someone asks you, "What do you want to eat?"
Son Goku watched his expression, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. He didn't say a word.
Raditz, in the original story, you were a complete bastard, begging for your life even as death stared you in the face.
But this time... you'll become one of our family.
After all, Saiyans shouldn't live for nothing but fighting and killing.
Before you continue