Coordinates and Fruit

"Frieza is dead," Turles said slowly. "You told me that. Then you came to my territory to buy Fruit of the Tree of Might, flying a Frieza Force ship."

His gaze swept over Chen Mo.

"What exactly are you up to?"

Chen Mo did not answer immediately.

He was observing Turles.

A battle power of 470,000.

At this point in time, it was neither particularly high nor particularly low.

It was stuck at an awkward level.

Killing him would be easy.

But meaningless.

Chen Mo understood one thing very clearly: the Tree of Might was no ordinary plant.

Planting it, cultivating it, and ripening its fruit all required special ki capable of resonating with a planet's life force.

He had searched through every system entry and found no record whatsoever of any Tree of Might cultivation technique.

Outsiders could not learn it.

And Turles was currently the only known person who had mastered the technique for growing the Tree of Might.

Killing him would be the same as cutting off a stable source of resources.

Better to keep him alive.

Let him pioneer new worlds, plant trees, and bear the risks.

Chen Mo only needed to harvest the results regularly.

Chen Mo had already chosen his words.

"Your Tree of Might can only be planted one per planet. The number of fruits is limited. Your path of increasing your battle power through this will soon reach its end."

Turles did not refute him.

Because it was the truth.

The number of fruits borne by the Tree of Might depended on the total life force of the planet.

This rocky planet had been barren to begin with.

The fruits left in the canopy were the final batch.

Once they were eaten, he would either have to find another planet and plant a new tree, or remain stuck at this level.

"470,000," Chen Mo said. "In the universe as it is now, that number means nothing."

Turles's face twitched.

"Frieza is dead. A Super Saiyan has appeared. And even stronger beings are roaming the universe. So what if you use Fruit of the Tree of Might to stack your power up to one million? Two million?"

Chen Mo looked at him.

"The reason Saiyans are strong has never been because they started out strong. It's because they recover from near-death and grow through battle. You're holed up here eating fruit. You've got it safer than a Saiyan having a meal. Your body has never experienced its limits."

Turles fell silent.

His tail coiled back around his waist, and his attacking stance relaxed.

"What are you trying to say?"

"All the fruit on the Tree of Might goes to me," Chen Mo said.

The corner of Turles's eye twitched.

"You're dreaming."

"Let me finish." Chen Mo raised a hand. "All the fruit belongs to me. You take the seeds, and I'll tell you of a place. It's a hundred times more valuable than this miserable planet. Go there and plant another tree. When the new tree bears fruit, keep enough for yourself. Give me thirty percent every season."

Turles stared at him intently.

"Why should I?"

"500,000 against 470,000. We fought for so long just now, and you gained no advantage." Chen Mo's tone was calm. "And let me tell you something: I wasn't fighting at full strength."

Turles narrowed his eyes.

The scouter's reading had remained at 500,000 the entire time, without any fluctuation.

If this Earthling was telling the truth, then he still had a trump card hidden away.

"How much is your full strength?" Turles asked.

Chen Mo did not answer.

He merely looked at Turles.

Then he did something.

Something very small.

Deep in his eyes, an extremely faint glimmer flashed.

But in that instant, Turles's scouter let out a shrill beep.

The screen flickered violently, and the numbers jumped.

The reading dropped straight to zero.

Then it jumped back to five hundred thousand.

The entire process took less than 0.3 seconds.

But Turles's back was already drenched in sweat.

His body had been more honest than his mind. In those 0.3 seconds, a Saiyan's battle instincts had made their judgment.

Run.

Reason had suppressed that judgment, but the adrenaline had already surged.

"...What did you just do?" Turles asked, his voice low.

"Nothing," Chen Mo said. "Just a little trick."

His tone was casual.

But Turles's Adam's apple bobbed twice.

The scouter had gone to zero. What did that mean?

That instant of energy had exceeded the scouter's measuring range.

The scouter's upper limit was 1.8 million.

Turles did not dare think any further.

"What's your full power?" he asked again, his voice drier than before.

"You don't need to know," Chen Mo said. "You only need to know that I want the fruit. I'm not negotiating with you. I'm giving you a dignified way to do this."

The air remained silent for three seconds.

Turles clenched his fists, then slowly loosened them.

"Where is this place you mentioned?"

"New Planet Namek," Chen Mo said. "That planet's life force is ten thousand times stronger than this one's. If you plant the Tree of Might there, both the quantity and quality of the fruit will be far beyond anything this crappy planet can produce."

Turles's pupils contracted.

"And," Chen Mo added, "there's currently a Super Namekian with a power level of five hundred million occupying that planet. But soon, hundreds of thousands of Frieza Force remnants will go besiege him. If you've got the guts, you can go pick up the scraps."

Turles fell silent.

He stood there, his tail swaying gently behind him.

Five hundred million.

That number was far beyond anything he could comprehend.

But hundreds of thousands of Frieza Force troops would be besieging him. If both sides ended up badly wounded...

Saiyan instincts screamed in his mind.

A battlefield. Chaos. Picking up the scraps. Recovering from the brink of death. Growing stronger.

That was the path a Saiyan should walk.

Not hiding on some barren planet and eating fruit.

Besides, this planet had already been drained dry.

The fruit hanging from the canopy was its final yield. Keeping it would be pointless.

Rather than waste it here, he might as well trade it for an entirely new path.

Turles took a deep breath.

"I'll give you all the fruit," he said. "But you have to give me that planet's coordinates. All the information. That monster with a power level of five hundred million, the Frieza Force's movements—tell me everything."

"What about the seeds?" Chen Mo asked.

"I'll keep the seeds myself." Turles patted a metal container at his waist. "I still have seven Tree of Might seeds. Once I get to New Planet Namek, I'll just plant them again."

Chen Mo quickly did the math in his head.

Seven seeds. New Planet Namek's life force was incredibly abundant. One Tree of Might could produce at least a dozen fruits.

Thirty percent every season would mean four or five fruits for him.

And Turles would keep growing stronger and plant trees on more planets.

This supply chain was far more worthwhile than planting them himself.

"Deal."

Turles stared at him for several more seconds.

Then he turned around, his aura erupting as he flew toward the canopy.

This time, he flew for a long while, weaving through the enormous canopy and picking every last fruit.

Nearly two minutes later, he landed.

In his arms was a makeshift sack woven from bark.

Inside were nine golden fruits.

They varied in size. The largest was as big as two fists, while the smallest was still the size of an egg.

A warm, lustrous sheen flowed across their surfaces.

Up close, they gave off an indescribable fragrance.

It was neither floral nor fruity. It was a scent that made every cell in one's body cry out.

The Fruit of the Tree of Might contained energy that enhanced more than just battle power. It also benefited one's cultivation.

This was an unexpected gain.

His expression remained unchanged.

Turles set the sack on a rock before Chen Mo, then removed the metal container from his waist and opened it for a look.

Seven dark brown seeds lay inside, their surfaces covered in fine patterns like miniature tree roots writhing.

They were still alive.

Turles closed the container and fastened it back onto his waist.

"The coordinates."

Chen Mo took out his scanner, brought up the coordinates for New Planet Namek, and handed it over.

Turles used his own scanner to scan and record the coordinates, then looked at the star map on its screen.

"At this distance, ten days at warp," he said quietly.

"The Frieza Force has already arrived," Chen Mo said. "If you're going, go soon."

Turles put away the scanner and glanced at Chen Mo.

"You're strange," he said. "A human from Earth with a battle power of five hundred thousand. You know how Frieza died. You know about Super Saiyans. You know about the Tree of Might. You know the coordinates of New Planet Namek. And that move just now..."

Something else appeared in his eyes. It was not fear, but a certain reverence mixed with vigilance.

"What exactly are you?"

"Someone who wants to stay alive," Chen Mo said.

Turles fell silent for a moment, then smiled.

"There's an old saying among Saiyans," he said. "If you can't kill someone, do business with them."

"Earthlings have a saying too." Chen Mo picked up the sack and weighed it in his hand. "Even if the deal falls through, goodwill remains."

Turles did not understand.

But he said nothing more.

He took a seed from the container at his waist, glanced at the cracked ground beneath his feet, then at the now-bare giant tree overhead.

"This tree isn't needed anymore."

He felt no sentimentality. Saiyans did not mourn tools that had outlived their usefulness.

An aura wrapped around his body as he flew into the sky.

Halfway up, he paused and looked back.

"Earthling."

"Yeah?"

"What's your name?"

"Chen Mo."

"I'll remember it," Turles said. "Next time we meet, I won't be stuck at four hundred seventy thousand."

"I'll be waiting," Chen Mo said. "And don't forget my thirty percent."

Turles gave a disdainful snort.

Then he left.

Vanishing into the grayish-brown sky.

Chen Mo watched the direction he had gone, his gaze calm.

He was not letting a tiger return to the mountains.

He was herding it.

A shepherd would not kill his best sheepdog. He would send it to more distant pastures to drive back even more sheep.

Turles had ambition, methods, and the technique to cultivate the Tree of Might.

More importantly, he was a Saiyan.

He would grow stronger. He would fight. He would survive the chaos of the universe.

It would be such a waste for someone like that to die.

Using him as a weapon was where his greatest value lay.

As for how far Turles would grow in the future...

Chen Mo lowered his head and glanced at his hand.

The depth of one's cultivation was not something a Scouter could measure.

Turles would never know what he had sensed in those 0.3 seconds.

Nor would he ever catch up.

He untied the pouch. Nine golden fruits lay quietly inside, varying in size and sheen.

Each one resembled a compressed star.

Heavy with a pulsing throb.

Chen Mo picked up the largest one, placed it in his palm, and used his cultivation to lightly probe the energy structure inside.

Pure. Vast. Free of impurities.

Moreover, it truly resonated in some way with the spiritual energy in his dantian.

Nine fruits.

If he absorbed them all, the increase in battle power would be one thing.

The boost to his cultivation was what truly tempted him.

But he could not rush.

If he ate too many at once, his body might not be able to withstand it.

He had to absorb them in batches, guide them with his cultivation, and slowly refine them.

Chen Mo put the fruits away, slipping them one by one into the pockets close to his body. The three largest went into the innermost pocket.

Chen Mo lowered his head and glanced at the Scouter.

Forty-three minutes had already passed.

Seventeen minutes remained.