No More Signs of Life

Ever since he had transmigrated here, the Paragus who might have had some other possibility for a different life had already vanished.

What remained was merely a hollow shell, shackled by ambition, fear, and the desperate instinct to survive.

This man treated Broly as a tool, a shackle, and a hope all at once, churning everything into a tangled mess of complex obsession.

Forty-one years.

On this desolate and cruel planet, their relationship was less like kinship and more like a chain—they relied on each other, yet they tormented each other.

But forty-one years, no matter how brutal the daily training, no matter how much Paragus feared and attempted to control Broly's out-of-control power, no matter how many struggles, roars, and silences occurred on the wasteland, time itself was ruthless enough to have long since carved indelible marks deep into their souls.

It was a habit, as well as a twisted bond, much like two vines intertwined—simultaneously symbiotic and antagonistic, having long since taken root in the rings of their lives.

"Bro...ly..."

Paragus seemed to sense a shadow drawing near.

He struggled to roll his clouded eyes, which were bloodshot and covered in a layer of gray film.

He exerted every ounce of effort to focus his gaze on Broly's face, which was devoid of any emotion at this moment.

His lips parted and closed, a wheezing, rattling sound escaping his throat, mixed with bloody foam.

He desperately wanted to say something—perhaps a command, perhaps a curse, or something else entirely.

But in the end, only a faint puff of air and blood leaked from the corner of his mouth.

His severed arm was still bleeding, though the flow had slowed.

The dark red blood slowly seeped into the scorched earth, spreading into an ominous stain, the stench of rust thick and suffocating.

Broly did not say a word.

He neither covered the horrific wound nor offered any aid.

He simply crouched there, watching the old man before him rapidly wither, watching the last vestiges of color fade from his face as his chest rose and fell with increasing weakness.

The light of life ebbed away from that broken body, like sand in an hourglass—unstoppable.

In truth, he could have stopped all of this.

The power within him was as vast as a sea of stars; sealing such a wound and clinging to a life would have been effortless for him.

Yet, strangely, at this moment, he felt nothing at all.

There was no impulse, nor any reason to intervene.

It was as if a cold bystander were curled deep within his soul, silently watching this irreversible end.

In Paragus's eyes, the final spark of light reflected Broly's motionless silhouette.

An indescribable emotion—perhaps the fear of sudden realization, perhaps the despair of a failed plan, or perhaps the final resentment toward the "monster" he had raised with his own hands but never truly controlled—rippled like a stone dropped into stagnant water, flashing across the depths of his eyes.

Then, that tiny flicker extinguished completely.

His pupils dilated, losing all vitality, leaving behind only dust-covered glass beads.

His chest heaved one last, imperceptible time before settling into deathly silence.

Paragus was dead.

Broly stood up slowly, his tall frame appearing exceptionally lonely in the thin light.

He looked down at the corpse at his feet, which had already begun to cool—rigid and devoid of warmth.

Forty-one years on this forgotten planet; all the struggles, calculations, fears, and twisted dependencies had culminated in nothing more than a bloody, almost casual death in the wilderness.

There was no heroism, no meaning—just like a bug being crushed.

He looked up, his gaze passing over the jagged rock walls to rest upon the eternal, unchanging sky.

That dark red star still hung there, stingily casting its cold light and heat, staining the entire world in shades of dark red and deep purple, like congealed blood.

And in the depths of Broly's eyes, something began to stir.

That thing had slept for too long, suppressed for too long; perhaps even he had almost forgotten it.

But the scent of death and fresh blood acted as a key, waking it bit by bit from the cold silence.

This was not sadness, nor was it anger.

The feeling was more primal, more hollow, like the rumbling vibrations deep within the earth beneath a frozen wasteland.

Paragus was dead.

Broly stood before the body, bowing his head in silence for a long time.

Forty-one years—not too long, but not too short.

He had never felt genuine affection for this man who was his "father" in name only.

As far back as he could remember, when Paragus looked at him, there was only exploitation and fear.

Those eyes never held warmth, only precise calculations and a thinly veiled dread, as if he were not a son, but a weapon that could detonate at any moment.

But now, even that twisted relationship had come to an end.

Paragus's corpse lay upon the scorched, cracked rock, his blood already clotted and mingled with the dust of Vampa.

The final expression on his face froze in shock and resentment, his wide, staring eyes reflecting only the planet's perpetually gloomy sky.

The wind wailed as it swept across the wilderness, whipping up fine sand that lashed against Broly's chest and his expressionless face.

"Just as well."

Broly muttered the two words, his voice flat, as if he were stating something that had nothing to do with him.

He took one last look at the lifeless shell, then slowly turned around, his heavy combat boots crunching over the gravel as he prepared to leave this desolate land that had accompanied him for forty-one years.

But just as he took a step—

The ground beneath his feet suddenly shook violently!

At first, it was only a subtle tremor, as if some giant creature were rolling over deep underground.

But soon, the vibration became incredibly savage!

Centered on him, the rock strata for several kilometers arched and shattered like broken eggshells!

A bottomless, tens-of-meters-wide fissure, as if cleaved by an invisible giant axe, roared as it spread out from behind him!

Charred soil and boulders the size of houses were hurled into the air by a brutal force, then rained down, leaving the ground pitted and scarred.

BOOM—!!!

Amidst the deafening roar, a colossal entity burst from the earth.

It was that Centipede Monster.