An Invitation After Dinner

Capsule Corporation was filled with an atmosphere of tension and anticipation.

In the corridors, the nurses' footsteps were so light they were almost inaudible. The nursery had long since been prepared, its pink curtains swaying softly in the breeze from outside.

Everyone spoke in hushed voices and moved more slowly. Even Beerus and Whis had reined in their usual flamboyance.

They were all waiting for the new life that was about to be born.

If Son Goku and Broly really started fighting here now, never mind whether they would frighten Bulma upstairs—the shockwaves from their battle alone could erase the entire city, even all of West City, leaving nothing behind.

The warm lights, the food on the table, Bulma's afternoon of hard work—all of it could vanish in an instant.

"How about we go somewhere farther away?" Son Goku suggested cautiously, his eyes shifting back and forth between Vegeta and Broly like a puppy waiting for its owner to hand out meat. "Like King Kai's Planet? Or any uninhabited planet? I can use Instant Transmission to take everyone there..."

Broly had already lowered his head and returned to his plate.

He speared a piece of roasted potato with his fork. Its skin was browned and crisp, sprinkled with rosemary, and it looked delicious.

He had absolutely no interest in the conversation just now. The word "fight" seemed less appealing to him than that potato.

"Whatever," he replied vaguely through a mouthful of buttered bread, his cheeks puffed out.

He picked up his juice again and gulped down a large mouthful, his Adam's apple bobbing with the motion.

After setting down the glass, he was still considering what to eat next.

The dining room suddenly fell quiet. Only the sounds of cutlery against plates, Beerus's loud chewing, and the distant bustle of the city outside the window remained.

Vegeta stared at Broly for a long while. In the end, he snorted through his nose, turned, and walked out of the dining room. His footsteps gradually faded down the corridor, carrying a deliberately heavy note of irritation.

Son Goku remained standing there, scratching his head. He looked at Broly, then in the direction Vegeta had left, and finally sighed. With slumped shoulders, he returned to his seat and dropped down heavily, spearing some pasta that had already gone a little cold and absentmindedly stuffing it into his mouth.

Broly continued eating with the same seriousness.

He cut off the last piece of steak and chewed it slowly before moving on to the vegetable salad.

The lettuce was crisp, and the cherry tomatoes burst with every bite, their sweet-and-sour juice spreading through his mouth.

His movements were slow and unhurried, as though the whole world contained nothing but this table, the light above it, and the food on it.

Outside, the sky gradually darkened, while the afterglow of sunset bathed the dining room in warm gold.

The chandelier automatically lit up, casting its warm glow over everyone's faces, the white tablecloth, and the nearly empty plates.

Broly finished his last bite and set down his knife and fork.

Metal struck porcelain with a crisp clink.

He picked up a napkin and wiped the corners of his mouth. His movements were still somewhat awkward, but very earnest.

Finally, he looked up at the night beyond the window. Distant points of light reflected in his dark eyes—the lights of the city, the glow of life, a warmth he had never seen in forty-one years on Vampa.

Son Goku's eyes suddenly lit up like two blazing stars, his golden pupils overflowing with barely contained excitement and fighting spirit.

"Then it's settled!" He practically sprang out of his chair, its legs scraping sharply across the floor. As he turned, he even sent one corner of the tablecloth flying.

He was just about to shoot out the door like a streak of light when a hand like an iron clamp seized his wrist.

"Wait." Vegeta's voice was low, as if forced out from his throat, every word heavy.

He did not look at Son Goku. Instead, his sharp gaze remained fixed on the ever-smiling Whis, his brow tightly furrowed with a rare trace of anxiety.

"Mr. Whis, Bulma and the baby..."

"Rest assured, Mr. Vegeta." Whis was still smiling as he gave a gentle wave with his gloved hand. His other hand held his staff, tracing a graceful arc through the air.

The crystal ball atop the staff flashed. A faint blue, translucent halo spread outward from beneath his feet, swiftly enveloping the entire Capsule Corporation residence. Even the leaves in the yard and the droplets from the fountain seemed coated in a quiet, gentle glow.

"With me here, Miss Bulma and the child will be safe. This barrier is enough to block any battle shockwaves." As he spoke, his gaze shifted to the eager Son Goku and the still quietly eating Broly. The smile on his lips deepened, as though he had seen through everything.

"And besides—" he drawled lightly, "I rather want to see this match myself. Such a pairing is not something one sees often."

"Hehe!" Son Goku grinned like a child, flashing a mouthful of white teeth. His smile was both innocent and fervent, as though he had just been given his favorite toy.

Without another word, he drew in his aura. The next second, his entire body became a streak of golden light, like a meteor racing against the sky. In the blink of an eye, he pierced the clouds and vanished beyond the horizon, leaving behind only a faint lingering tremor.

At the other end of the table, Broly slowly set down his silver fork, the metal touching the porcelain with a light, crisp chime.

He picked up a napkin and carefully wiped the corners of his mouth, as though solemnly completing the final ritual of a grand feast.

His movements were slow and steady, calm as a great stone, forming a stark contrast to Son Goku's lightning-fast departure.

Rather than looking like he was about to fight an earth-shattering battle, he looked more like someone who had finished a meal and was preparing to take a stroll around the yard—absurdly leisurely.

"Mr. Broly," Whis's voice came at just the right moment. It was still gentle, yet like a pebble dropped into a lake, it broke that excessive calm. There was a hint of coaxing in his tone. "You needn't go all out, but at least... let Goku see just how great the 'gap' truly is, shall we?"

Broly's hand paused slightly as he wiped his mouth.

He slowly turned to look at Whis.

At that instant, something seemed to flicker briefly in the depths of his calm black eyes.

It was not an eruption of aura, not killing intent, nor anything that could be called "energy."

It was something more primal, more instinctive... a sense of presence.

Like a beast that had slept for countless years quietly opening one eye.

The beast's pupil.

"I'll do my best." His voice was soft, low, and even, without much emotional fluctuation.

Yet when those three words fell, they were like three impossibly heavy meteors silently dropping into a deep pool. Nothing stirred on the surface, but beneath it, unseen currents had already begun to churn.

Then his figure vanished as well.

There was no golden aura like Son Goku's, no sonic boom tearing through the air. Even the air itself barely rippled.

He simply went from "being here" to "not being here."

Space seemed to distort slightly. Perhaps it was only an illusion.

One second, he had been sitting quietly at the dining table. The next, the chair was empty, leaving only the faintly swaying chair and the neatly folded napkin on the table.

Vegeta's pupils instantly shrank to pinpoints, every muscle in his body tightening taut in that moment.