Frieza Descends

Zarbon's smile vanished completely.

His slender fingers moved away from the energy barrier's control panel and clasped behind his back, where he quietly pressed the emergency communications button. The signal shot at light speed toward the other side of Namek, toward the massive spacecraft hovering in low orbit—Lord Frieza's flagship. He did not know why he had pressed it. The four-year-old child's power level far exceeded the limit of what he could handle. But he knew something else even more clearly: if he did not call Frieza now, he might not even get another chance to do so.

"Mr. Zarbon," Dodoria said in an extremely low voice, so low that only Zarbon could hear him, "that little one... the scouter says his power level is around four hundred thousand. Are you sure you didn't misread it?"

Zarbon did not answer. The highest power level he had ever seen in his life was Frieza's first form at five hundred and thirty thousand. Yet the golden aura emanating from the four-year-old child before him was already close to eighty percent of that. More terrifying still, the child stood beside Vegeta, whose purple aura had also surpassed one hundred thousand. Two Saiyans—one legendary, the other nearly so—stood before him at the same time.

"Open the barrier."

There was no threat in Vegeta's voice. He said it as casually as if ordering food. Yet it was precisely that calmness that sent cold sweat sliding from Dodoria's temples all the way to his chin, dripping onto the ground and splashing into small wet marks.

"Vegeta," Zarbon forced out a smile. His voice still retained its elegant rhythm, but the faint tremor at the end betrayed him. "I admit you've grown stronger now. Perhaps you're truly stronger than both Dodoria and me. But Lord Frieza is on this planet. Do you think the two of you Saiyans—even with that Super Saiyan child—can defeat Lord Frieza?"

"I said, open the barrier." A faint smile appeared at the corner of Vegeta's mouth. "I won't slap you in the face. My word is my bond."

Dodoria slammed the control panel, and the energy barrier vanished abruptly. He had not been persuaded; he had simply done the math. At this distance, the barrier could not stop even one punch from Vegeta. Rather than hide behind it and wait to die, he might as well strike first.

The instant the barrier disappeared, Dodoria shot forward like a pink cannonball. He interlocked his fingers into a hammer and smashed it down toward Ji Ming's head. His battle sense was not particularly sharp, but his instincts were accurate—the child was the greatest threat and had to be dealt with immediately.

"Die, brat—!"

When his fist came down, it struck nothing.

Ji Ming shifted aside, making the smallest possible movement, merely slipping past the line of Dodoria's descending fist. Then he raised his right hand, brought his five fingers together, and struck the center of Dodoria's chest with his palm. There was no charging up, no shouted technique name—just an utterly ordinary palm strike.

Dodoria's eyes bulged. He looked down at his own chest—Ji Ming's palm had sunk in less than two centimeters, yet an extremely compressed burst of golden energy had already penetrated skin, fat, and sternum before exploding inside his chest cavity. His heart was wrapped in the force of that energy, jolted violently once, then stopped beating for a full two seconds.

Two seconds later, Dodoria crashed to the ground. The whites of his eyes rolled up, and pink foam spilled from his mouth. He was still alive, but he had already lost consciousness.

One palm strike.

Dodoria's power level was thirty-five thousand. One palm strike.

Zarbon took a step back, then another. His elegant mask shattered completely, revealing the twisted expression of terror beneath it. His fingers frantically hammered the emergency communications button over and over, like a drowning man clutching at his last piece of driftwood.

Ji Ming did not pursue him.

He remained where he was, looking down at the fallen Dodoria before lifting his gaze to Zarbon, who was backing away. His voice was calm. "Mr. Zarbon, pressing it however many times won't help. Frieza will come when he receives the signal, but he won't come to save you—he'll come to find out why you're still alive."

Zarbon's pupils contracted sharply.

Ji Ming continued at an unhurried pace, each word landing precisely on Zarbon's psychological defenses. "The Ginyu Force was wiped out twenty minutes ago. Frieza's main combat force is now down to just you and Dodoria. Do you think Frieza would personally make the trip for two pieces of trash like you?"

"He will come. But he won't come to save you."

Zarbon's lips began to tremble. His transformation ability was a secret—he could shift between his handsome form and an ugly monster form, raising his power level to over forty thousand at most. But as he looked at the purple flames burning around Vegeta and the child's steady golden aura, he could not even summon the courage to transform into his monster form.

Vegeta walked past him without even glancing at him. Reaching the end of the cavern, he bent down and picked up the Dragon Ball from the pile of rubble. The golden sphere slowly rotated in his hand, its red patterns flowing within like sluggish magma. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, forming a cold, sharp curve.

"After growing stronger, looking at trash like you is no different from looking at insects." He casually tossed the Dragon Ball to Ji Ming.

Ji Ming caught it in one hand and held it securely against his chest. The Dragon Ball was lighter than he had imagined. Though it was a massive sphere nearly a meter in diameter, it felt like an empty ball in his hands, transmitting only a faint warmth and an extremely subtle pulse.

Zarbon still stood where he was, trembling as he watched the two of them. He wanted to run, but his legs would not obey him. He wanted to transform, but he could not even raise his hands. Then he suddenly realized that what he feared was not death—it was being crushed. Crushed by Vegeta, whom he had mocked in the Frieza Force only days ago, and by a four-year-old mixed-blood Saiyan whose name he had never even heard.

Holding the Dragon Ball, Ji Ming headed toward the cavern exit. As he passed Vegeta, his steps paused briefly.

"Zarbon is yours."

"You don't need to tell me." Vegeta rolled his wrists, the sound of his joints grinding echoing through the cavern. He slowly walked toward Zarbon, his purple flames no longer spilling outward but drawn tightly over his skin like a thin violet veil.

Only after Ji Ming left the cavern did a short scream ring out behind him, followed by the dull thud of a heavy body hitting the ground, then a muffled blast. Everything fell silent.

The Dragon Ball in the southwestern cavern was secured.

The battle at the eastern village ended forty minutes later.

The remaining two Dragon Balls had been hidden in the cellar of an abandoned village, guarded by several elderly Namekians. When Ji Ming found the village, he pulled the last one out from beneath shattered cellar stones. He had arrived too quickly; Frieza's search party sent east had not yet had time to find the place.

The Dragon Balls were gathered. Six of them.

Ji Ming stood in the open space of the abandoned village, with six Namekian Dragon Balls neatly arranged before him. Beneath the pale green sky, the golden spheres gave off a warm glow, red patterns slowly swirling inside each one. When the six were placed together, the patterns' rotations automatically synchronized, like six hearts beginning to beat in the same rhythm.

Krillin jumped down from the Flying Nimbus, staring open-mouthed at the Dragon Balls scattered across the ground. "Holy Master Roshi, it's only been a few hours, and you've already got all the Dragon Balls? Wasn't Frieza looking for them too?"

"Frieza's main force has basically been wiped out," Ji Ming said, crouching down and using his scouter to scan the Dragon Balls' energy wavelengths one by one. "The Ginyu Force has been annihilated, and Zarbon and Dodoria have been taken out. The only one in the Frieza Force who can still fight is Frieza himself."

"Just him?" Krillin looked a little dazed. "Then doesn't that mean we're about to win?"

"No." Vegeta dropped down from above the rock wall, his expression showing not the slightest relief despite their success. "Quite the opposite. Frieza is Frieza not because he has an army—but because he alone is worth an entire army."

"His first form has a power level of five hundred and thirty thousand." Ji Ming stood and brushed the dirt from his knees. "Every transformation more than doubles his power. His second form breaks a million, his third form goes straight past three million, and his final form... has a power level of one hundred and twenty million."

The clearing went silent for a full five seconds.

Nappa's Adam's apple bobbed as his hoarse voice emerged. "One hundred and twenty million... You're saying that after all this time training on Namek, after Guru unlocked our potential, after we risked our lives to defeat the Ginyu Force and their troops—there's still one enemy left with a power level of one hundred million?" He straightened his back, his voice rough but steady. "Then we fight."

Krillin dropped onto the ground and clutched his bald head with both hands. He opened his mouth several times before forcing out a sentence. "One hundred and twenty million... Even a Kamehameha might not be able to hurt him."

"It can." Ji Ming's voice did not waver in the slightest. "Frieza's final form is certainly powerful, but it has a fatal weakness—endurance. He cannot continuously grow stronger in battle like a Saiyan, nor can he maintain one hundred million power forever. His final form consumes ki every second. The longer the fight drags on, the greater the burden on his body. As long as we hold him off and avoid being crushed in the first five minutes, his power level will begin to drop."

Vegeta added coldly, "Provided you can survive those first five minutes. From beginning to end, that will be hell."

"Then we still have to fight." Son Goku had somehow jumped down from the rock wall and walked into the center of the clearing. He wore a newly changed orange training gi, with a blue cloth belt he had brought back from King Kai tied around his waist. He looked much more energetic. "Even if we can't win, we have to fight. That's why we came to Namek."

Ji Ming looked at Son Goku and remained silent for a long while. There was still no fear in Son Goku's eyes, but there was now a calmness born of careful thought. It was not blind confidence, but the composure of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

"The seventh is with Guru." Ji Ming stored the six Dragon Balls one by one in Bulma's specially made compression capsule case. "Nail has already taken the three from the North Canyon temple to Guru. Add these two from the east and the one from the southwest, and all six are gathered. Now we return to the temple, join up with Guru, get the final Dragon Ball—then summon Shenron."

Bulma's spaceship rose from behind a rocky hill, its exhaust carving a blue-white arc across the night sky as it headed toward Kami's Lookout.

Bulma sat in the pilot's seat, already on her fourth refill of coffee. As she watched the energy distribution map on the radar screen, her expression grew increasingly grim. The three small energy signatures in the southwest cave had gone out one by one, leaving only one massive energy reading slowly approaching them. It wasn't a spaceship. It was Frieza himself. His ki had turned back from the eastern villages and was now moving toward Kami's Lookout at a terrifying speed.

"Frieza's on the move! He'll reach the vicinity of Kami's Lookout in a little over twenty minutes," Bulma announced quietly over the cabin broadcast.

"We have time." Ji Ming stood before the porthole with his arms folded, watching the sky ahead. The outline of Kami's Lookout had already risen beyond the horizon. The white structure gave off a faint, cold glow beneath the night sky, like an ancient ruin forgotten among the stars.

"Enough time to summon Shenron?"

"Enough." Ji Ming shifted his gaze back from the window. "Do as I told you before. Don't land the ship—transmit the satellite data to Nail directly from the air. I need him to confirm which altar Guru's seventh Dragon Ball is on before we arrive."

"Already sent."

Bulma fell silent for a moment, her fingers flying over the screen. Then she turned to face him directly. The only light in the cabin came from the faint glow of the navigation console and the stars streaking past outside.

"By the way, you had me scan the energy distribution across the entire planet beforehand, pull up all the Ginyu Force files, and even install a portable Dragon Ball radar and voice commands for making wishes with Shenron—you knew from the start that the Dragon Balls could revive everyone, didn't you? Did you even plan out the order of the wishes?"

Ji Ming did not deny it. He had indeed planned it out.

Shenron's first wish: revive all the Saiyans Frieza had killed on Planet Vegeta. The second wish: revive the villagers massacred on Namek. The third wish—he had not decided yet, but it had to be saved. Once the battle began, anything could happen.

A short while later, the spaceship landed on a slope roughly six hundred meters from Kami's Lookout.

Ji Ming stepped out of the ship carrying six Dragon Balls. Guru was already seated on the all-stone platform in the center of Kami's Lookout, surrounded by Namekians. His massive figure looked especially solemn beneath the moonlight. Nail and several warrior-type Namekians had neatly arranged the three Dragon Balls retrieved from the northern canyon before the stone platform.

Six plus one. Seven Namekian Dragon Balls. Seven strands of golden-red light converged, illuminating all of Kami's Lookout as brightly as day.

"Everyone's here." Ji Ming walked up to Guru and solemnly placed the final Dragon Ball in the center of the stone platform with both hands. "Including Shenron."

The instant his words fell, the sky abruptly darkened.

It was neither an eclipse nor clouds obscuring the moon—a ki so immense it defied description pressed in from beyond the horizon. The air compressed into visible ripples that spread outward in ring after ring. Namek's pale green sky was ground into a sickly dark yellow beneath that overwhelming pressure.

Everyone looked up at once.

A colossal circular spaceship was slowly descending from the clouds. Dozens of cannons densely covered its hull, each glowing red as it charged and staining half the sky rust-colored. The pressure generated by its descent bent the spherical vegetation surrounding Kami's Lookout in a complete ring. Leaves groaned in agony, and a broken branch snapped off and fell at Ji Ming's feet.

The ship's hatch opened.

One person walked out.

He was very small.

Ji Ming had seen Frieza's entrances countless times in the original story, but seeing him in person still made him shudder instinctively. Frieza's first form was not imposing in stature; seated in his hover pod, he even looked somewhat diminutive. Purple armor-like plates encased his slender body, two black curved horns grew from his head, and his eyes were a cold blood-red. A composed smile rested at the corner of his lips. His hover pod descended before the hatch of his own ship, its treads crunching softly over Namekian gravel.

But his ki—the detector on Ji Ming's body screamed wildly—had jumped into a string of garbled digits at the top of the screen. That was no longer a battle power reading. It was sheer oppressive force seeping into every line of the system's code.

Frieza stepped down from his hover pod and dusted off his shoulder, where no dust existed. His gaze swept over everyone before Kami's Lookout—Piccolo, Krillin, Tien Shinhan, Chiaotzu, Nail, Nappa, Vegeta, and Ji Ming at the very front, wrapped in golden aura.

Then he smiled.

"Oh my, oh my. What a lively gathering." His voice was high and gentle, as if greeting children. "Vegeta, Nappa, Raditz—and so many Earthlings, Namekians, and little ones. Since when did Saiyans become so fond of making friends?"

Vegeta's fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging straight into his flesh as blood seeped through his fingers. Not from fear, but rage. That contempt hidden behind Frieza's smile, that feeling of being treated like a pet—he had endured it for twenty years. He did not want to endure it anymore. Purple flames began burning beneath his feet, but before he could move, Ji Ming reached out and stopped him.

"Wait."

Ji Ming's voice was quiet, but loud enough for Vegeta to hear. Vegeta turned to glare at him, his teeth grinding audibly. "Wait for what? For him to throw out a few more insults? Or wait for him to make the first move?"

"Wait for Shenron."

Frieza noticed that detail. The golden aura, Vegeta's obedient response—this child was the leader.

"So you're that Super Saiyan?" Frieza tilted his head, his red eyes carefully studying Ji Ming. "You're so small. I thought it would be Vegeta, or that Kakarot—but it turns out to be a little brat who can't even reach my knee. Your battle power is four hundred thousand, according to my scouter? Not bad. Stronger even than the Saiyan prince."

Ji Ming did not respond to the provocation. He simply stood still and quietly said something in Namekian toward Nail.

"Porunga. You may summon him now."

Frieza's smile vanished for an instant. He understood Namekian; he had learned it years ago when he came to Namek to investigate the Dragon Balls. As the words fell, all seven Dragon Balls began to rumble at once. Golden light erupted from within each one, and a pillar of radiance shot into the sky, piercing the dark-yellow heavens and completely swallowing the red glow of Frieza's ship.

Frieza narrowed his eyes. For the first time, a clear surge of killing intent showed on his face, and a layer of white mist burst across his skin in an instant.

"Brat, you—"

Ji Ming looked at him, his emerald-green eyes devoid of fear. There was only the calm of someone who had seen through the entire board.

"Frieza. You fear the Dragon Balls, and you fear Super Saiyans—well, both are right in front of you today."

The golden pillar continued rising. Porunga's summoning could not be reversed. Frieza's expression finally changed. He stopped smiling, and the cannons on the ship behind him all turned at once, locking onto the group before Kami's Lookout.

High in deep space, Namek's star peeked over the edge of the horizon, its first ray of light gilding the decisive battle about to erupt.