Age 780.
Deep in the universe, stars were scattered across the darkness like dust.
Even with your eyes wide open, it was hard to find that lonely gray planet.
It looked like a forgotten fossil, silently floating in the void. It had no moons, no rings—only deathly silence and indifference.
This place was called Vampa, hidden on the edge of the North Galaxy in Universe 7, orbiting Star 94.
There wasn't a single sign of civilization within a hundred light-years.
Nobody wanted to come here, and no interstellar routes passed through.
It was nothing more than a corner of the universe, utterly isolated.
Every now and then, an explorer's Scouter would sweep over the planet and send back the same report: "Life signs weak. Environmental rating: extinction-level." Put simply, the planet was neither especially large nor small, measuring three thousand kilometers in diameter. Its surface was covered in rust-colored patches, densely scattered like scars—the traces of oxidized minerals left behind over billions of years.
The atmosphere was so thin it could barely hold together. From space, you could see deep rifts crisscrossing the surface, as if some giant had clawed at it.
Vampa's environment was about as bad as it could get.
By day, radiation from Star 94 roasted the ground like flames. At night, the temperature plunged to minus 120 degrees, and even the rocks creaked under the strain of expanding and contracting.
The ground teemed with terrifying monsters: Rock-Crushing Centipedes, thirty meters long, with shells as hard as alloy, lying in wait underground for prey; Wind-Howling Giant Birds with fifty-meter wingspans and curved-blade beaks, circling high above with eyes sharp enough to catch movement ten kilometers away; and Lava Hyenas, whose fangs dripped with corrosive saliva and could chew rocks into honeycomb.
Forget ordinary creatures—anything that could survive here had to be a monster.
The air reeked of sulfur and ozone. Water was scarce, and most of it was poisonous.
When the wind blew, it brought no cool relief. Its blade-sharp grains of sand could strip someone down to white bones in seconds.
Without some real skill, you wouldn't last an hour—not even long enough to feel afraid before the planet swallowed you whole.
And because the environment was so harsh, even space pirates stayed away.
As a result, Vampa became the perfect place to exile criminals.
The administrators of the space prisons knew full well that abandoning prisoners here was more despairing than sentencing them to death.
Here, death wasn't the end. It was more like release after a long, painful ordeal.
To go back in time, it was probably forty-one years ago.
Back then, King Vegeta, the Saiyan king of Planet Vegeta, heard a fortune-teller's prophecy that a "Legendary Super Saiyan" would be born.
For the first time, he felt true fear.
He was afraid that when the baby grew up, he would threaten the throne, or even overturn Saiyan society entirely.
So he gave the order: the newborn baby, whose battle power already exceeded ten thousand, was to be exiled to Vampa with his father, Paragus—the death planet even demons avoided.
Forty-one years had passed.
The little warrior who had once cried as a baby was still alive.
No—calling it "alive" wasn't right anymore.
It would be more accurate to say he had conquered this place.
At that moment, Vampa was in the full blaze of day.
Rolling yellow sand blanketed the sky, blocking out the sunlight like golden waves.
The sun hung directly overhead like a white-hot iron ball, scorching the ground until it glowed.
Heat haze rippled through the air, making the horizon shimmer like water.
Standing here, you would see nothing but endless wasteland.
Deep, bottomless black chasms split the ground, as if the planet were silently screaming.
Weathered boulders lay scattered across the ground, sculpted by time into monstrous shapes, like a mass of kneeling stone demons.
Every now and then, the enormous bones of some creature could be seen half-buried in the sand. The stark white bones reflected the blinding light, some still marked with clear bite impressions—the traces of a more powerful predator.
The temperature here stayed above fifty degrees year-round. At noon, the ground in low-lying areas could reach eighty degrees.
The sand was hot enough to fry an egg, and even the air you breathed felt like it was burning your lungs.
Without equipment, an ordinary person would last an hour at most before dehydration and organ failure turned them into a dried corpse, which would slowly be buried by the blowing sands, becoming an insignificant speck in the desert.
Who could survive in a hell like this? It was impossible to even imagine.
But just then—
"BOOM!!!!!"
A huge orange-red fireball, over a hundred meters across, exploded on the distant horizon.
The shock wave spread like ripples, flattening sand dunes in its path and hurling rocks weighing dozens of tons into the sky like fallen leaves.
Then a massive figure was blasted away, tracing an arc through the air before crashing into a rocky mountain three kilometers away.
It was an Armor-Rock Giant Elephant, one of the apex predators in Vampa's food chain.
It was eighty meters long, sheathed in two-meter-thick silicon-based armor as hard as the plating of a space battleship.
The six bone spikes on its trunk could pierce the hulls of interstellar spaceships.
Every step it took made the ground tremble.
Now the giant beast was embedded in the mountain, its armor covered in cracks.
It struggled to get up, and for the first time, fear flashed in its six blood-red eyes.
Because the one who had sent it flying was emerging from the sandstorm.
The aura surrounding him forced the sandstorm back, creating a clearly defined sphere of space around him.
Each step he took was light, yet the sand beneath his feet instantly melted into glass.
His upper body was bare, covered in old and new scars, each one telling of a fight to the death against one of the planet's most vicious creatures.
His long, dark-green hair whipped in the hot wind, with green sparks occasionally crackling at the tips.
He wasn't especially burly, but every muscle was like perfectly tempered alloy, sharply defined.
Sand and dried blood clung to his skin, only adding to his feral appearance.
Most terrifying of all were his eyes. There wasn't a hint of emotion in his emerald-green pupils, only unfathomable calm.
The attack that could have destroyed a small city had been no more than a casual flick of his finger.
He raised his right hand and slowly curled his fingers into a fist.
"Vmmm—"
The air began to tremble.
Grains of sand floated upward against gravity, gathering and compressing in front of his palm.
Energy built up, rumbling low as space wailed as if it were about to tear apart.
A green glow seeped from his body, growing brighter and brighter until he became a human-shaped green sun.
The Armor-Rock Giant Elephant roared in despair and struggled desperately. Its immense strength brought down half the rocky mountain, sending rubble raining down.
It knew what would happen next—over the past forty-one years, it had seen scenes like this too many times.
The giant beasts that had once fought it for territory, the arrogant predators—all had ultimately turned to dust beneath this light.
But it couldn't escape.
What locked onto it wasn't a gaze, but something more fundamental—killing intent.
Pure, icy, absolute, like the laws of the universe, allowing no defiance.
The man—no, the Legendary Super Saiyan, Broly—finally spoke.
It was his first sentence in forty-one years. His voice wasn't loud, yet it drowned out the storm, the giant beast's wails, and even the eternal lament of this planet.
"I'm hungry."
The moment the words left his mouth, the energy in his hand erupted.
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