Vegeta's Arrival

Time flows swiftly during training, and three days passed in the blink of an eye.

On the outskirts of West City, inside the Gravity Chamber.

"Haa... haa..."

Heavy, ragged breathing echoed one after another.

Piccolo, Raditz, Krillin, Tien Shinhan, Chiaotzu, and Yamcha were all gritting their teeth, holding their ground within their respective gravity zones. Under the extreme pressure they each endured, everyone's clothes were soaked through with sweat, and their muscles trembled slightly beneath their skin.

Suddenly—

Piccolo's movements came to an abrupt halt.

He lifted his head, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes, like a sleeping beast that had suddenly snapped its eyes open.

This energy... evil, cold, and... there are two of them?

One is as violent as a wildfire, the other as gloomy as an abyss.

He closed his eyes, extending his perception deep into the cosmos. Those two auras were piercing through the atmosphere at an astonishing speed, carrying undisguised killing intent and brutality.

"Everyone!"

Piccolo opened his eyes and spoke to the group:

"There are two powerful energies... heading toward Earth! Distance... less than ten minutes!"

Everyone stopped what they were doing.

Raditz's body stiffened.

They're here... finally here!

Prince Vegeta... and Nappa.

The man who once made me afraid to even lift my head... the Saiyan Prince who looked at me like I was trash back in the Frieza Force.

Cold sweat seeped from his palms, only to be evaporated by his body heat as he clenched his fists.

Son Goku's voice came through the communicator, as relaxed as ever: "Heh, Piccolo, you felt it too? Let's go. Let's show them what Earth's warriors can do!"

The gates of the Gravity Chamber opened in unison. Dragging their exhausted yet exhilarated bodies, the group stepped out.

Raditz was the last to leave. He glanced back at the place where he had spent the last year—a place of cold metal walls, the piercing roar of gravity, and... those Earthlings who had sweated, cursed, and fallen alongside him.

A year ago, I was a captive.

Now... I am a warrior.

He took a deep breath, caught up with the team, and transformed into a streak of light, racing toward the direction where the energies were descending.

Above the wasteland.

Accompanied by two deafening roars, two spherical spaceships slammed into the ground like meteorites, kicking up dust hundreds of meters high. The earth shook violently, and the shockwaves obliterated all vegetation within hundreds of meters, leaving behind two bottomless craters.

A moment later, the dust gradually settled.

Clack—hiss—

The hatches opened slowly.

Two figures stepped out of the ships and onto the soil of Earth.

The leader was short in stature, yet radiated a suffocating sense of oppression. His black hair stood up like flames, and he wore a standard Saiyan combat suit draped with a white cape, a cold and arrogant curve hanging at the corner of his mouth.

It was the Prince of the Saiyans—Vegeta.

Behind him stood a giant of a man, as sturdy as an iron tower. He was bald with a thick black beard, also clad in a combat suit, his muscles knotted and bulging; every step he took caused the ground to sink slightly. A sophisticated scouter hung around his thick neck, emitting a faint "beep" sound.

It was Nappa.

The two flew out of the craters and hovered in mid-air, looking down at the front from a position of superiority.

Then, they saw Son Goku and the others.

Vegeta frowned slightly. The group before him stood not far away, watching them with a strange look in their eyes, as if they were observing monkeys in a zoo.

These Earthlings... are they not afraid of death?

A flicker of displeasure crossed Vegeta's mind, but it was quickly suppressed by his arrogance. He let out a cold snort, his gaze sweeping over each of them.

The scouter began to report the numbers.

"Beep—Power level... 1240." Nappa looked at Raditz and sneered, "Raditz, you piece of trash, you're still this weak after a year."

Raditz's expression shifted, but he did not retort.

Vegeta's gaze moved to Piccolo.

"Beep—Power level... 1480." Nappa raised an eyebrow, "A Namekian? How can there still be aliens on such a garbage planet?"

A cruel arc hooked the corner of Vegeta's mouth, and just as he was about to mock them, his gaze suddenly locked onto the black-haired man in the center of the crowd.

Son Goku stood there, hands in his pockets, a faint smile on his face.

The scouter aimed at him—

"Beep—"

"..."

No numbers.

Vegeta's pupils contracted slightly. He raised a hand to press his scouter, the lens flickering wildly, yet it consistently displayed a string of garbled code.

What is going on? Is the scouter broken? No... that's not it. It's this guy's ki...

It's unfathomable. Like a vast ocean, the scouter simply cannot quantify it!

A bead of cold sweat seeped from his forehead, but he quickly wiped it away by force.

"Hmph, playing tricks." Vegeta snorted coldly, deciding to ignore this bizarre Kakarot for the moment and instead turned his spearhead toward the most "familiar" traitor.

He stared fixedly at Raditz.

"Raditz."

Vegeta's voice was not loud, but it carried a chilling edge:

"You've got some nerve, daring to betray me. Betraying the honor of the Saiyans, betraying King Frieza, and hiding on this low-class planet... living like a stray dog?"

Raditz's body stiffened instinctively for a moment.

It's here... that look again.

That high-and-mighty gaze, as if he's looking at an insect he could crush at any moment. In the Frieza Force, every time a mission failed, he would look at me with those eyes... and then cut my supplies, sending me off on suicide reconnaissance missions.

His knees were trembling. Long-term conditioning had etched the Saiyan hierarchy into his marrow, and the fear coiled around his heart like a cold, venomous snake.

I... I'm afraid.

Even though I've become stronger, even though I've already...

His gaze shifted involuntarily, landing on Son Goku's profile.

His younger brother was tilting his head, offering him an encouraging smile, his lips moving silently:

"You can do it."

Raditz's pupils trembled slightly.

Memories surged in like a tide—

Chi-Chi serving curry rice, asking him with a smile if he "wanted an egg"; Wuhao and Wuqi climbing on his back, pummeling him with their tiny fists and calling him "Uncle"; the deep nights on Earth, with no pursuers, no alarms, where he slept soundly without dreaming of any slaughter...

This is... the path I chose.

Not for the honor of the Saiyans, not for Frieza's hegemony... but to protect the people who ask me "what do you want to eat."

He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the fear in his heart, and straightened his back.

As his spine fully straightened, the pride belonging to a high-class Saiyan warrior ignited for the first time in his own way.

"Prince Vegeta," Raditz's voice trembled at first, but grew firmer with every word, "A wise man submits to circumstances. My brother Kakarot... no, Son Goku, he is the true powerhouse."

He raised his hand, pointing at Vegeta, his voice suddenly rising:

"He will lead us Saiyans toward glory, rather than begging for scraps under Frieza! Your so-called princely honor... is nothing but an excuse for being a lapdog to a murderer!"

"What did you say?!" Nappa flew into a rage, veins bulging on his forehead, "Raditz, you piece of trash with a battle power of only a thousand, how dare you call Prince Vegeta a dog? I think you're tired of living!"