A Passerby

Piccolo answered without hesitation, but his eyes remained fixed on Qi Heng.

He was calculating in his mind, his entire body taut like a drawn bowstring.

Even though Qi Heng showed no sign of attacking and had not leaked the slightest trace of energy, Piccolo's instincts still pushed his vigilance to its limit.

Qi Heng nodded, the motion so slight it was almost unnoticeable, yet it was clear he had already expected that answer.

Without another word, he turned and left, moving as naturally as the wind, as though he were ready to abandon Piccolo and this wilderness entirely.

"Wait!" Piccolo suddenly called out, his voice rising with a tension and heaviness even he had not noticed.

He took a step forward, and the rock beneath his foot cracked apart.

"Who exactly are you?" Piccolo's gaze seemed capable of burning a hole through Qi Heng's back. "Your energy... though you've concealed it deeply, I can feel that oppressive presence perfectly clearly. It's stronger than Vegeta at his absolute peak—not, it isn't merely strong..."

Frieza, Cell, Majin Buu—those great demons of the universe—flashed through his mind in rapid succession. In the end, he reached a conclusion that made his scalp prickle. "You're more unfathomable than any being I've ever encountered. I've lived for so long, from the Other World to the living world, and I've seen countless powerful fighters, but I've never encountered energy this... this ethereal, yet as though it contains everything. What are you?"

Qi Heng stopped, but did not turn around.

Even the wind around them seemed to stop abruptly, leaving only Piccolo's somewhat hurried breathing.

"A passerby," he said flatly, without a trace of emotion.

The moment the words left his mouth, he vanished completely, like pencil marks wiped away by an eraser.

There was no gathering of energy, no flash of light, and no spatial ripple—not even an afterimage remained, as though he had never been there at all.

Piccolo stood frozen, his pupils contracting slightly.

He immediately shut his eyes and spread his senses outward with all his strength, sweeping across mountains, rivers, and seas like radar. He even tried to sense as far as King Kai's Planet—there was nothing.

That heart-pounding energy had vanished without a trace, like a drop of water dissolving into the ocean, impossible to find again.

That man, along with his incomprehensible power, seemed to have been erased from the universe's coordinates.

"A passerby?" Piccolo slowly opened his eyes and stared at the place where Qi Heng had disappeared, muttering under his breath.

The wind began blowing again, stirring up yellow sand, but the gloom in his heart was not so easily swept away.

His clenched fist finally loosened, his palm covered in cold sweat.

"How could someone with power on that level possibly be just a 'passerby'?" A vague yet immense premonition weighed on his heart like dark clouds.

The appearance of this Saiyan called Qi Heng could not have been a coincidence.

As he looked over the peaceful world, Piccolo understood that some tremendous variable might already be quietly brewing.

Almost at the same time, on the other side of Earth.

West City, on a street near Capsule Corporation.

The place was clean and modern. Hovercars glided quietly past, while billboards shone with soft light.

People strolled leisurely along the streets, enjoying the afternoon calm.

No one noticed the faint ripple in the air at the corner of a secluded alley, like water gently trembling.

Qi Heng's figure silently appeared. He looked entirely out of place in this high-tech city, yet strangely, none of the passersby saw him, as though he had been naturally blocked from everyone's senses.

Standing in the shadows, he gazed impassively at the domed Capsule Corporation building not far away.

Sunlight struck its pristine white shell, reflecting a dazzling glare.

He watched it quietly for a while. The massive building, a symbol of Earth's technology and the Bulma Family, was reflected in his golden eyes, and a complicated, unfathomable emotion flickered across his face.

Then he stepped into the sparse crowd, his black figure swiftly swallowed by the city's light, shadows, and clamor.

The lingering light of the setting sun dyed West City a dark gold, and the crowds on the streets gradually grew thicker.

Standing before Capsule Corporation, Qi Heng felt that he did not belong in this bustling city at all.

He let out a long breath, but the oppression in his chest did not ease in the slightest.

For an entire day, he had been wandering aimlessly through this unfamiliar time and space like a headless fly.

Irritation.

The feeling was like a mass of thorns tightly coiled around his heart, emptiness and anxiety intertwining, impossible to shake off.

He had grown accustomed to the urgency of his original world—Beerus, the God of Destruction, had hung over him like a blade, and growing stronger had become his only goal. Every second of training had been like racing death itself.

But what about here? It was so peaceful that it felt suffocating.

There were no powerful enemies, no goal, and he did not even have the slightest clue how to return.

This directionless drifting was more aggravating than any training.

He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white, yet he had no idea where to direct that force.

"Huh? It's you!" A crisp voice suddenly sprang up from behind him, like the ringing of a silver bell, instantly cutting through all the chaos in his mind.

Qi Heng spun around sharply.

A purple-haired girl stood there, holding a huge pile of shopping bags. Plush toy ears, tags from new clothes, and snack wrappers peeked out from them.

Her small figure was nearly buried beneath the bags. Tilting her head, she stared at him with wide, bright purple eyes filled with surprise and curiosity.

The setting sun struck her hair, as if gilding it with a layer of light.

Bulla.

"The other day, you just vanished with a whoosh! I thought you were some weird hallucination, or that I'd never find you again to get an answer!" Bulla paid no attention to the bag in her arms, which was about to slip out of her grasp. Grinning, she leaned closer, the bag rustling softly. "Are you here to see my mom? She should be in the lab today!"

"No, I..." Qi Heng instinctively denied it, his voice somewhat hoarse.

He still had not figured out how to explain where he came from or why he was here.

"Bulla!" A deep, stern, immensely imposing voice erupted like muffled thunder, directly cutting Qi Heng off.

It was not loud, yet its pressure was so overwhelming it made it hard to breathe, instantly freezing the relaxed atmosphere from moments ago.