The third small mountain shattered with a crash.
This time, he finally stopped—slamming straight into a massive cliff face and smashing into a crater several meters wide and two meters deep.
Cracks spread densely around the crater like a shattered porcelain bowl, while rocks kept tumbling down with a clatter.
Vegeta was sprawled on his knees on the ground—or, rather, calling it kneeling wasn't quite right. His knees were buried in the rubble, his hands braced against the ground, and his head hung so low it nearly touched the rocks.
His golden hair was a filthy mess, soaked with dust and blood, and his face looked absolutely dreadful.
He clutched his stomach with one hand, his whole body convulsing violently as he retched in great heaves—not spitting, but spewing a mouthful of dark red blood mixed with stomach acid onto the shattered rocks with a harsh splat.
The impact had come too fast. Before he could even react, he'd already lost so badly he couldn't see the other man's shadow.
He couldn't even figure out how the guy had attacked.
He hadn't managed so much as a proper defense before it was all over.
Three hundred years of Saiyan Prince pride had been crushed to powder by a single knee.
"Wh-what kind of power is this...?" Vegeta struggled to lift his head, the veins in his neck bulging as every muscle in his body trembled.
His vision blurred for a moment, then reluctantly focused again. He stared at the figure slowly descending—the man whose red glow was fading, silent as a mountain and unfathomable as an abyss.
Jiang Che stood before him, the red light around his body slowly receding like the tide.
His red hair gradually turned black again, and only a faint glimmer of red remained in his eyes.
His breathing was steady, and his expression unchanged. Even the hem of his clothes was unruffled.
It was as if that last move had been nothing more than a casual step, not even worth mentioning.
Jiang Che looked down at Vegeta and spoke in a calm, matter-of-fact tone, as if stating an obvious truth. "God of Super Saiyans."
"God...?" Vegeta's eyes widened, bloodshot eyeballs nearly bulging out of their sockets.
He stared at Jiang Che, his face filled with disbelief and shock—and it wasn't an act. The astonishment truly welled up from deep within him.
His lips trembled uncontrollably. He wanted to say something, but couldn't get out a full sentence; only a few dry, hoarse sounds forced their way from his throat.
God of Super Saiyans?
What was that?
He'd never heard of such a form.
He could search through every ancient book and the whole history of the Saiyans, and still not find a single mention of it.
Weren't Saiyans all golden?
The strongest warriors of every generation, from ancient times to the present—from his forefathers to himself—had all followed the golden path: Super Saiyan, Super Saiyan 2, Super Saiyan 3... Every form of power revolved around that golden aura.
So how could a red-haired form suddenly appear?
And that power—he couldn't sense any ki, yet he could feel the overwhelming pressure!
It was like facing a sleeping primordial beast. It didn't roar or bare its fangs; it simply lay there, and its mere presence made every inch of you go numb.
Who was this kid, really?
Vegeta gripped the rubble so hard his knuckles turned white. His nails dug into the rocks, leaving several shallow marks.
He clenched his teeth, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His Golden Pupils held resentment, fury, and terror—and something else he wouldn't even dare admit to himself: awe.
"God of Super Saiyans..." Vegeta murmured, his voice as hoarse as if he were chewing on sand. Every word was steeped in bitterness and helplessness.
His eyes remained fixed on Jiang Che's back, shock and anger roiling in his pupils, along with an indescribable yearning. That power, that flash of red he'd never seen before, had pierced deep into his consciousness.
Jiang Che said nothing more.
He turned with crisp, efficient movements, his clothes cutting through the air and stirring a faint breeze.
Rubble crunched softly beneath his boots as he started to leave.
"W-wait!" Vegeta gritted his teeth and hauled himself out of the rubble-filled crater. His legs still shook violently, and every muscle in his body seemed to resist him.
He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. The veins in his arms stood out, as if they might burst at any moment.
"Who are you, really? What are you doing on Earth?" Vegeta demanded.
Jiang Che stopped. His movements were leisurely, as though the universe's number-one Saiyan Prince meant nothing to him.
He turned his head toward the sky, his gaze passing over the clouds rolling high above. His voice was as bland as an offhand remark. "I'm just a Saiyan."
Before his words had even faded, Jiang Che's figure suddenly blurred. Only a faint afterimage remained in the air before dissipating like smoke.
Vegeta couldn't even catch his trajectory. The man had vanished as if out of thin air, as though he'd never been there at all.
Only a chill swept across Vegeta's face with the wind, cutting past like a mocking gust.
Vegeta clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking.
His breathing quickened, his chest rising and falling violently.
He glanced at Gohan, his voice carrying a faint tremor. "Gohan, have you ever heard of that form?"
Gohan shook his head, his face still pale from the fight, sweat beading on his forehead.
He swallowed and spoke with some difficulty. "Never. Dad's never mentioned a red-haired Super Saiyan, either."
Vegeta's gaze drifted once more toward the direction Jiang Che had disappeared in. He clenched his teeth so hard his lips nearly split.
His Saiyan eyes held a tangled mix of emotions—anger, resentment, humiliation, and a hint of admiration he refused to acknowledge.
That kid's power was beyond anything he'd imagined.
He was even beginning to suspect that even Goku might not be able to handle this mysterious Saiyan easily.
Meanwhile, Jiang Che had already flown high into the sky.
The world below rushed away—cities looked like squares on a chessboard, mountains like the backs of giant beasts, and rivers like silver ribbons winding across Mother Earth.
The wind howled past his ears, carrying the chill of the upper atmosphere and whipping his clothes.
His black hair streamed behind him. The collar of his Battle Suit lifted slightly, revealing the scar on his chest, which had not yet fully healed.
"System, where's the Hyperbolic Time Chamber?" he asked. The wind broke up his voice, but the words still rang clearly in the depths of his mind.
[ Ding! The Hyperbolic Time Chamber is located at Heavenly God's Palace and is managed by Kami Dende. We recommend that the host go there and ask to use it. ]
Jiang Che nodded and changed course, fixing his gaze on a faint outline in the clouds high above—a timeworn palace suspended between the blue sky and white clouds, like a forgotten chess piece floating alone between heaven and earth.
He stirred the ki within him, shooting through the clouds like an arrow and leaving a trail of white air in his wake.
A few minutes later, he landed on the stone steps of Heavenly God's Palace.
The flagstones beneath his feet had been worn smooth by time, reflecting his image.
White clouds drifted slowly all around him. Now and then, invisible currents of air passed through the stone pillars, making a low, mournful sound.
The place was as quiet as an island cut off from the world.
"Who's there?" A round figure approached.
It was Mr. Popo—short and plump, with skin as black as polished jade. He wore the robes of a great chieftain, and though his steps were heavy, they were steady.
When he saw Jiang Che, he narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, clearly trying to figure out who the newcomer was.
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