Burning Sky

Vegeta stood rooted to the spot, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints.

The scouter was still screeching, the number on its screen like a red-hot nail driven into his retina. He tore the scouter from his face and crushed it in his palm, the metal frame creaking before shattering into pieces and falling to the ground.

He no longer needed a scouter.

What he found even harder to believe was that the child before him, wrapped head to toe in golden aura, had achieved the form he had dreamed of attaining. The legendary Super Saiyan, one born only once in a thousand years—was not him. Not him, the Saiyan prince, but a four-year-old half-breed brat.

"This is wrong." Vegeta forced the words through clenched teeth, his voice like a blade scraping against bone. "This is absolutely impossible. I should be the Super Saiyan. I am the strongest Saiyan—I've slaughtered more planets than you've eaten meals. What right do you have—"

"What right?"

Ji Ming tilted his head, cutting him off. On that baby-faced visage, surrounded by golden aura, appeared a calm, almost cruel smile wholly unsuited to his age.

"You call slaughter a qualification?"

Vegeta's face twisted.

His pride, the belief that he was "the strongest Saiyan" drilled into him since childhood, the humiliation he had endured for years under Frieza, the arrogance he had built with blood across countless planets—all of it was smashed to pieces by a four-year-old with those six words.

"You're asking to die—!"

Vegeta exploded from where he stood, his foot crushing the rock beneath him into a ten-meter-wide crater. He moved so fast that everyone present could see only an afterimage, his fist carrying enough force to split mountains and shatter stone as it shot straight toward Ji Ming's face.

Boom—!

The blast of air was so violent that Krillin covered his ears.

Ji Ming did not dodge.

He opened his right hand and steadily caught Vegeta's fist. One large hand and one small hand locked together in midair, golden aura and Vegeta's purple aura tearing furiously against each other at the point of contact, crackling with electric hiss. The ground collapsed beneath them, centered on the two of them, while cracks spread outward like a spiderweb.

Vegeta's eyes nearly split open. His full-force punch had been caught one-handed by a child. Not blocked, not deflected—caught head-on.

"A power level of eighteen thousand really isn't enough before this form." Ji Ming's voice was calm, as if he were stating a math problem. "You have two choices now. Either lie down like Nappa, or—listen carefully to what I have to say."

Vegeta's fist trembled. Not because he lacked strength, but because of rage. He tried to pull back his fist and strike again, only to find that Ji Ming's five fingers were like steel spikes, locked tight around him—the hand not even half his size possessed greater strength than his own.

He lowered his head and looked into the child's eyes.

The emerald-green pupils were like two frozen jade stones. There was no killing intent, no anger, none of the childish smugness he had expected. There was only an unfathomable calm, so calm that it sent a chill down Vegeta's spine. This was not the coldness of someone who had suppressed an opponent in battle, but a higher kind of calm—the calm of one looking down upon the whole board.

"What do you want to say?" Vegeta ground out, forcing each word through his back teeth.

"Frieza."

The moment Ji Ming spoke that name, Vegeta's body visibly stiffened. It was not the stiffness of fear—it was the instinctive reaction of a body when someone stabbed straight into the deepest, most secret wound in one's heart.

"How do you know about Frieza?" Vegeta lowered his voice until only the two of them could hear it.

Ji Ming released his hand, stepped back, and raised his head to meet Vegeta's gaze. The golden aura receded slightly, burning quietly only around his hair and shoulders. At this distance, Vegeta could crush his head with a single punch—yet Vegeta did not move. That name was like an invisible chain, holding his fist suspended in the air.

"I know everything about Frieza." Ji Ming raised one finger. "I know the truth about the Saiyans' extinction. It wasn't caused by a meteor. I know you've lived beneath his feet since you were young, and even the title of strongest warrior was something he bestowed on you. I know you hate him enough to grind your back teeth to dust every night, but you don't dare rebel, because your power level isn't even a fraction of his first form's."

Vegeta's breathing grew heavier, his chest heaving like a bellows. Every sentence stabbed into his heart. Every sentence was a secret he had never told anyone.

It was not as though he had never considered that another Saiyan might have informed Frieza of such things—but the one standing before him was a half-breed brat raised on Earth. How could this child possibly know?

"I also know," Ji Ming said, raising a second finger, "that Frieza fears one thing."

Vegeta's gaze abruptly sharpened.

"A Super Saiyan."

"A legend." Vegeta squeezed the words from his throat, his voice hoarse as though his mouth were full of broken glass. "Frieza destroyed Planet Vegeta because he feared a Super Saiyan would be born among the Saiyans. But it was only a legend. No one had ever seen one—"

"You've seen one now." Ji Ming pointed at himself, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "What do you think Frieza will do once he learns that a Super Saiyan has appeared in your mission log?"

Silence.

Only the wind wailed through the gravel-strewn wasteland. In the distance, Nappa's fallen body lay motionless amid the dust. Krillin held his breath nearby, not daring to interrupt, while Son Goku and Piccolo stood side by side in the air, silently watching the scene below.

Vegeta's lips moved for a long while, his complexion shifting between livid blue and ashen gray.

It was not as though he had never considered this question. He understood it all too well—once Frieza learned of a Super Saiyan, he would not kill only this child. He would see every Saiyan as a potential threat, including Vegeta himself. When that happened, the "strongest warrior" and the "Saiyan prince" would all have to die.

The ceiling that had pressed above his head for so many years had suddenly cracked open. But it was not a crack through which sunlight poured—it was a crack that let in icy water, chilling him to the bone.

Ji Ming saw it all. He knew the seed had been planted. In the original story, after Vegeta's battle on Earth, he saw Goku's strength and refused to fall behind, setting out on a path that would eventually redeem him. But now, Ji Ming chose another way to break through his psychological defenses—not through hatred, but through a common enemy.

"I understand." Vegeta lowered his head, his shoulders trembling slightly, but his voice suddenly carried a laugh. "You want me to betray Frieza and join hands with an Earth brat who's nothing? Dream on."

He suddenly raised his head, a savage grin twisting across his face. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot, and his teeth ground together with a harsh crackle.

"I can kill you first—then take the Super Saiyan's head back to Frieza and tell him the threat has been eliminated. He'll reward me. He might even give me more planets. Then I can still surpass him slowly—my way."

Ji Ming sighed.

"You can't beat me."

"How will I know unless I fight?!" Vegeta roared. Purple aura abruptly surged around him as he thrust out both fists. "Galick Gun—!"

A purple ki blast surged from his palms at point-blank range, striking straight toward Ji Ming's chest. This attack contained all of Vegeta's dignity and rage. The beam was as thick as a barrel, splitting the dim twilight in two—this was the trump card he had intended to use against Frieza, and now he poured all of it onto a four-year-old child.

Ji Ming raised his right hand.

Golden aura condensed into a thin energy shield in his palm. The Galick Gun struck it, erupting into a sky full of purple light. The torrent of energy split to either side, blasting a bottomless ravine through the wasteland hundreds of meters behind Ji Ming as dirt and shattered lava rained down like a storm. Yet Ji Ming himself did not retreat a single step.

When the purple light dispersed, Vegeta saw that Ji Ming's palm was only faintly smoking. Not even his skin had been scraped.

"I'm already in the Super Saiyan form. Any pure energy attack without the power of rules is ineffective against me." Ji Ming lowered his hand, his tone utterly calm. "Don't you understand yet, Vegeta? Frieza's battle power is 530,000. Yours is currently 18,000. He usually only shows himself in his first form, and that form alone has a battle power of 530,000. Once he gets serious, he still has three further transformations. His maximum battle power exceeds one hundred million."

One hundred million.

The number was like a basin of ice water dumped over Vegeta's burning fighting spirit.

His mouth opened, but he could not say a single word. Eighteen thousand against one hundred million—it was not a gap. It was the difference between an ant and a dinosaur.

"But a Super Saiyan can increase that to over one hundred and fifty million in the second stage." Ji Ming paused. "You can't defeat Frieza alone. Even with me, we can't beat his final form. But what if both you and Kakarot become Super Saiyans?"

Vegeta remained silent for a long time.

The wind blew in from afar, whipping up scorched grass and clumps of dirt that struck his face, yet he did not dodge. Chaotic voices battled in his mind, until only one thought remained, churning in his chest like rolling magma—surpass Frieza. The only goal of his entire life.

"You're saying Kakarot can become a Super Saiyan too?" Vegeta's voice suddenly calmed. He was no longer the Saiyan prince laughing madly out of control, but a warrior reassessing the entire situation amid the ruins.

"He can. And it won't take a thousand years. In roughly a year or so, it should happen."

Ji Ming silently added in his heart, Actually, as long as Krillin gets blown up by Frieza, both of you can transform. But he had no intention of telling them that version.

Vegeta looked toward Son Goku in the distance. Kakarot was floating in midair with his arms folded, head tilted as he watched this side, looking as though he were waiting for the end of a show. Battle power: six thousand. According to this brat, in a little over a year, that six-thousand-power guy would stand on equal footing with the form Vegeta had dreamed of.

Nothing annoyed him more than that.

Yet nothing thrilled him more, either.

"Fine." Vegeta unclenched his fists, and the aura around him slowly died down. His gaze remained as sharp as a wolf's, but beneath that punctured pride was something faint and indescribable. "I'll stay. But not to follow your orders. I'm staying to see with my own eyes how Kakarot becomes a Super Saiyan. If he doesn't have the potential you claim, if all this is just you, brat, blowing hot air—"

"You can challenge me to a one-on-one fight anytime." Ji Ming smiled slightly and held out his small fist. "I'll be ready whenever you are."

Vegeta looked down at that fist, then at Nappa lying unconscious on the ground. The corner of his mouth twitched twice. Then he did something that left everyone present dumbfounded.

He reached out and tapped Ji Ming's fist with his index knuckle.

Not a handshake, but a tap. Like one warrior acknowledging another.

"I'll remember this debt." Vegeta withdrew his hand and turned away, putting his back to everyone. "When that big idiot wakes up, don't tell him I touched your fist. Otherwise, he'll laugh at me for the rest of my life."

Krillin stood nearby with his mouth hanging open, his jaw nearly hitting the ground. Son Goku scratched his head and chuckled twice. Piccolo hovered in the air with his arms crossed, and at last, the faintest curve appeared at the corner of his mouth.

The sun sank completely below the horizon.

The enormous craters, shattered rocks, and scorched vegetation on the wasteland were all coated in a dark crimson beneath the last light of dusk. The air carried the burnt scent of ozone and soil. This Saiyan battle, which should have lasted until deep into the night and claimed countless dead and wounded, came to an end before the sun had set.

Ji Ming released his Super Saiyan form. His hair faded from gold back to black, his green pupils returned to deep brown, and the golden aura around him vanished in an instant. His body swayed lightly, his knees bending slightly—maintaining the Super Saiyan form for five minutes had nearly drained all his ki.

A hand reached over from beside him and supported his shoulder. It was Son Goku.

"Were those things you said just now the truth, or were you only trying to stall him?" Son Goku kept his voice so low that only the two of them could hear.

"Half and half." Ji Ming caught his breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Frieza is real, the legend of the Super Saiyan is real, and Vegeta being able to become a Super Saiyan is real too. But that plan to 'fight Frieza together in a year'—I made that up on the spot."

Son Goku was silent for a moment, then smiled. It was not his usual foolish grin, but a quiet smile that only warriors could understand. He placed a hand on his son's head and gave it a rub.

"Good improvisation."

The moonlight began to rise.

The five people on the wasteland remained where they were, and no one hurried to leave. Vegeta stood with his back to everyone, gazing at the stars, no one knowing what he was thinking. Piccolo landed beside Ji Ming and, without a word, sealed several pressure points injured by the shockwave. Krillin dropped onto the ground, his legs still trembling as he muttered the words "four years old" seven or eight times like a chant.

Ji Ming looked up at the stars filling the sky and suddenly felt something in his chest slowly melt away.

It was not the joy of victory, but something steadier, warmer.

In his previous life, he had sat alone in a rented room, studying every frame of Dragon Ball's battle scenes on a screen. Outside the window on those nights, there had also been a sky full of stars. Countless times, he had imagined what it would be like if he could enter that world and wreak havoc in every direction. But now that he was truly standing here, with moonlight and the cool mountain wind filling his chest, he understood.

What was truly worth protecting had never been the thrill of wreaking havoc in every direction.

It was having someone beside you to lend you a hand after the battle ended.

Chi-Chi rushed out from behind a distant rock, stumbling as she ran, her face already streaked with tears. She threw her arms around Son Gohan and held him tightly—so tightly that his ribs let out a faint protest—but he did not pull away.

"You child... you were going to scare your mother to death..." Chi-Chi trembled too hard to finish a complete sentence.

Ji Ming leaned against his mother's embrace and closed his eyes.

End of chapter.

The night grew deeper.

In the distance, faint sounds of celebratory fireworks came from the direction of East City—perhaps someone had captured blurry footage of the fallen Saiyans through an astronomical telescope, and the media had mistaken it for fireworks from some kind of celebration. Hearing those distant explosions, Ji Ming could not help curling his lips slightly. The people of Earth still did not know that, on this wasteland, a four-year-old child had just caught the full pride of an elite alien from the Galactic Empire with his bare hand.

Inside Kame House.

Through satellite data transmission, Bulma confirmed the last crucial piece of intelligence: Nappa's vital signs had stabilized, and he was no longer in mortal danger. She removed her headset, leaned back, and let out a long breath.

"Krillin just sent word that Vegeta is willing to stay and train with them. What do you think?"

The blue-haired girl standing beside her—Bulma's younger sister, Tights—looked up at her with especially bright eyes, an open star chart guidebook in her arms. After thinking for a long while, she finally lowered the book and looked out at the sky gradually turning pale beyond the window.

"Call that four-year-old over here. It seems there's something he needs to take from us."

She meant the coordinates of Planet Namek. She had figured it out.