Adjustments and Confrontation

"Let's adjust my state first," Jiang Che muttered to himself, turning to walk to the bedside and sit down cross-legged.

He closed his eyes, resting his hands naturally on his knees, and began to slowly adjust his breathing.

Air entered his nose, passed through his throat, sank to his dantian, and then slowly dispersed throughout his entire body.

He repeatedly settled his spirit, trying to feel the flow of qi within his blood vessels.

This body was indeed terrifyingly strong—its bones and muscles were several times sturdier than an ordinary person's, possessing a strength akin to a monster's.

It was just that the power was too fierce, making it difficult to control.

Like when he exchanged punches with Vegeta just now, he could have completely diffused the impact, but when it came to actual execution, the power feedback was always half a beat slow, wasting a lot of force for nothing.

If he could handle these details well—even if efficiency only increased by ten percent, his strength would be completely reborn.

The room was very quiet, and time slowly passed.

The birdsong outside grew distant, replaced by the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze.

The qi within him, guided by his will, became clearer, like straightened threads, transforming from chaotic flow into an orderly cycle—elbows, wrists, knuckles, every minute detail was readjusted.

Just as he was immersed in his cultivation, a sharp whistling sound suddenly came from outside the window, like something breaking through the air at extreme speed, exuding a murderous aura.

Jiang Che frowned sharply, opened his eyes, and looked out the window.

He saw Vegeta hovering in mid-air, arms crossed, his battle suit gleaming metallically in the sun.

His dark eyes stared coldly at Jiang Che inside the room, his gaze full of provocation.

The wind blew his bangs upward, and a dangerous smile appeared on his lips.

"Kid," Vegeta's voice pierced through the glass, low but clear, as if directly entering the room, "fight me."

Jiang Che raised an eyebrow, moved his fingers from his knees, and stretched lazily, "Now?"

"That's right," Vegeta's eyes blazed with fighting spirit, the flames almost leaping from his pupils.

He leaned forward slightly, as if ready to charge into the room at any moment, "That fight just now isn't over—since you're not afraid of fighting, then fight me for real."

Jiang Che was silent for a few seconds, his gaze lingering on Vegeta's face for a long time.

He could see Vegeta's clenched fists trembling slightly at his chest—it wasn't fear, but excitement, the exhilaration of a predator catching the scent of blood.

To be honest, he did want to fight again.

The power from that exchange of punches still lingered in his heart, spreading from his arms to his chest, and then throughout his entire body, his blood boiling.

That pure collision of power, the tremor of bone against bone, made every cell in his body cry out to do it again.

But the reality was—this was not his territory.

Bulma had just taken him in, and to start fighting her husband right away would be rather inappropriate.

There were still beautiful flowers planted on the lawn outside, decorative paintings hung on the walls, and the windows were brand new. If he were to smash anything because of a fight, Bulma would surely not let him off easily.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes, his sneer deepening, "What? Scared? Weren't you quite arrogant just now? Now you're chickening out?"

Jiang Che looked at him calmly, his eyes serene, "It's not fear, it's unnecessary."

"Unnecessary?" Vegeta snorted coldly, his voice like a beast's growl, his tone growing increasingly aggressive, "Who do you think you are? A Saiyan of unknown origin, daring to speak to me like that? I'm telling you, this planet is my territory. You've come here, so you must abide by my rules—might makes right here!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the qi emanating from Vegeta exploded instantly!

Golden light erupted like a bomb, his hair stood on end, transforming into a Super Saiyan, his golden rage swirling madly.

The violent aura waves from his body surged through the glass into the room—books were blown off and hit the wall; the curtains flapped wildly; the vase on the bedside table wobbled a few times before crashing to the floor and shattering, water spilling everywhere; the air in the room instantly became scorching hot.

"Get down," Vegeta pointed a finger at the ground, golden light dancing at his fingertips, "Stop hiding in the room like a turtle."

Jiang Che looked at the mess on the floor, then up at Vegeta, enveloped in golden light outside the window. His eyes moved, and a barely perceptible smile appeared on his lips.

The floor beneath his feet vibrated slightly, a pressure from Vegeta's aura.

Jiang Che slowly stood up, walked to the window, placed one hand on the window frame, and pushed the window open with the other, letting the golden airflow rush towards him, messing up his hair.

"Okay," he said, his tone unhurried, with a hint of playfulness, "Let's fight."

His brow furrowed even tighter, his brow almost twisted into a single line.

His fingers tapped lightly on the windowsill; the coolness could not quell the restlessness in his heart.

That Vegeta... was he really going to pester him to the end?

In the center of the courtyard, Vegeta stood on the grass, his golden aura swirling like a sea of fire, the grass beneath his feet pressed flat, and the earth cracked.

The shattered stones of the Fountain Beast he had broken lay scattered on the ground, water droplets reflecting fragmented light in the sun, like a silent warning.

Forget it.

If the other party really wanted to fight, then they would fight.

Jiang Che took a deep breath, the long-suppressed restlessness ignited.

He had been searching for the limits of his own strength, and all he lacked was a strong opponent—someone he could fight with all his might.

This Saiyan before him, burning with golden flames, was precisely that whetstone.

He might as well take this opportunity to test his own limits.

"Since you're so eager to get beaten, I'll play along." Jiang Che cracked his neck with a 'snap'.

He shoved the window open violently, the frame hitting the wall with a dull thud.

Under the moonlight, he placed one foot on the windowsill, then sprang up, leaping from the second floor like an eagle spreading its wings. He landed steadily ten meters in front of Vegeta.

The ground vibrated slightly, grass and dust kicked up before slowly settling.

The two stood ten meters apart, facing each other.

The air seemed to freeze.

The surrounding insect chirps, the sound of the wind, even heartbeats, were suppressed by an invisible force at this moment, leaving only their figures.

Vegeta's golden aura blazed hotter and hotter, almost like flames.

The grass beneath his feet was compressed into a three-meter-wide pit by the pressure, soil churning and roots exposed.

His eyes held fervor and battle intent, his pupils seeming to burn with two balls of fierce fire.

His fists clenched and trembled, the irrepressible excitement written all over his face—the prey was before him, the exhilaration of tearing into the enemy imminent.