The Lost Soul of Zifur

That man's eyes had completely turned an inhuman scarlet, his pupils shrunk to pinpoints.

The corners of his mouth stretched far too wide, as though they might tear through his cheeks, revealing a mouthful of stark white teeth.

His smile was cold to the extreme, filled with nothing but savagery and an absolute thirst for blood.

Behind him, more than a dozen figures likewise wreathed in black aura stood in a semicircle, forming a fan-shaped formation.

Some hunched over like beasts, while others stood as stiff as corpses.

No matter how bizarre their stances, every pair of eyes was fixed firmly on the person in midair—Vegeta—trapping him at the center.

Vegeta hovered several meters above the ground, his arms folded across his chest as his scarlet cape swayed lightly behind him.

He looked down from above, his face full of disdain, as though the exceedingly dangerous enemies below were nothing more than a swarm of pesky ants.

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" Vegeta's voice was as cold and hard as steel, booming across the ruins. "Who gave you the nerve to cause trouble in West City?"

"What are we?" Hoarse, broken syllables squeezed from the blond brute's throat, like sandpaper scraping against iron, or countless noises mixed together into an unbearable rasp. "We... are the vengeful souls of the Tuffles whom you Saiyans personally sent to hell! The dead who crossed over death itself to return and collect what is owed!"

"Tuffles?" Vegeta frowned as a corner of his deepest memories was suddenly stirred, recalling the race that should have long since vanished into history.

"That's right!" The red light in the blond brute's eyes flared wildly, like two blood-red lanterns. "It was your ruthlessness! You destroyed our homeland! The wails of Tuffle Planet, the curses of every dead soul—today, you will repay them with blood!"

With a beastlike roar, he suddenly thrust out both palms!

Pitch-black energy frantically gathered in his palms, compressing like ink into two spinning energy blasts. Their edges tore through the air with piercing shrieks as they crashed toward Vegeta from either side, seeking to crush him between them!

Vegeta did not even change his folded-arm stance.

He merely raised his right hand casually and flicked his index finger forward—

A golden beam shot out with a sharp whoosh, as thin as a needle and impossibly piercing, instantly passing through the point where the two black energy blasts were about to meet.

"Boom! Boom!"

The explosions erupted in the air almost simultaneously. Black-and-gold fireballs suddenly swelled, and the shockwaves burst outward like ripples, sweeping chunks of stone and rubble from the ground into the sky as rings of gray-black dust spread outward.

The blond brute bore the brunt of it. The blast pushed him back again and again, his feet gouging two deep trenches into the ground before he barely managed to steady himself.

Vegeta gave a contemptuous snort. Golden aura burned steadily and silently around him. "That's it? It isn't even enough to warm me up."

"Don't get too cocky, Saiyan!" The blond brute's face twisted completely, and the dark-red lines beneath his skin writhed as though they had come alive.

The black aura around his body surged once more, splashing outward like spilled ink. An unpleasant stench of metallic rust mixed with ozone began to fill the air.

His companions behind him moved as though they had received a signal!

"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—!"

Dozens of black-aura-wreathed energy blasts of varying sizes rose into the air at once. They were not fired randomly; they precisely wove together into a net of firepower, like a black rainstorm sealing off every possible escape route for Vegeta.

Only then did Vegeta's figure finally blur.

The next second, his entire body became a pure streak of golden light, weaving through the black rain of blasts.

Its path was both cunning and beautiful. At times, it slipped through the gap between two energy blasts like a fish; at others, it sharply changed direction at the last possible instant, setting off piercing sonic booms.

A chain of explosions erupted behind him, beside him, and above his head. Flames and smoke spread one after another, yet not even the edge of his cape was touched.

Three seconds—perhaps even less.

The golden streak passed through the final barrage like a phantom and suddenly appeared directly in front of the blond brute, so close that Vegeta could practically see his own cold reflection through the other man's scarlet pupils.

"Too slow."

Vegeta's voice was terrifyingly calm.

His right fist, wrapped in an extremely compressed golden aura, slammed directly into the blond brute's savage face.

"Bang—!!!"

It was not the sound of an ordinary impact, but more like the dull crash of a sledgehammer smashing through a fortress.

The blond brute's smile froze, then warped. The muscles in his face shook violently beneath the overwhelming force. He was blasted away by the punch like a bowling ball, first crashing through the load-bearing wall of an office building behind him as bricks, stone, and steel bars flew everywhere. Before he could stop, he slammed diagonally into another building, punching a massive hole through its concrete wall. Finally, amid the unceasing sounds of collapse, he was buried beneath a heap of concrete and steel beams.

Rubble clattered down as dust slowly rose.

The remaining figures shrouded in black aura all froze in place.

They still held their attacking and energy-gathering poses, the red light in their eyes flashing wildly like faulty bulbs, revealing confusion and fear.

The encirclement instantly fell apart. They looked at one another, their feet instinctively retreating as their black auras became unstable as well.

"Retreat..."

A hoarse, weak voice, still steeped in hatred, came from deep within the rubble.

Pushing away the broken stones, the blond brute finally staggered to his feet.

Half his face had caved in, a clear fist mark burned into his cheekbone. Thick black liquid, like asphalt, constantly overflowed from the corner of his mouth and dripped onto the rubble with sizzling, corrosive sounds.

His red eyes remained locked on Vegeta. Their glow had dimmed, but the venom in them had only deepened.

"Vegeta..." Every word seemed forced through clenched teeth. "Today... is only the beginning. You must repay the Tuffles' debt with blood... We'll settle this another day."

He abruptly turned around and let out a low roar.

As though granted a pardon, the dozen or so companions quickly gathered around him.

Black flames surged up, completely engulfing them. Then they transformed into more than a dozen blurry black shadows, darting through the streets and smoke before vanishing after a few flickers.

Vegeta slowly descended onto a stretch of ruins, the aura around him receding.

He did not pursue them or turn back to look. He simply stood there, brows tightly furrowed, staring deeply in the direction they had disappeared.

The clamor of battle quickly faded, leaving only the crackling of flames and the distant wail of alarms.

"The... vengeful spirits of the Tuffles?" Vegeta repeated under his breath, as if trying to chew over the words completely.

The Saiyans' ancient sins? Long-forgotten dead returning? Those black auras, those twisted faces—they did not look like living people at all...

"What... are those things...?"

A long-forgotten pressure quietly crept into his heart.

It did not come from a gap in strength, but from the unknown and fear.

Before Capsule Corporation's streamlined gates, the sunlight had already dispersed the smoke drifting in from afar.

Vegeta dropped from the sky and landed steadily beside Bulla.

Qi Heng was still standing where he had been, in exactly the same posture as when Vegeta had left. Even the angle of his clothes seemed unchanged, as though time had stopped around him.

Vegeta's gaze immediately locked onto Qi Heng. The fighting aura around him had yet to fully fade, still carrying the lingering warmth of smoke and residual energy.