Casually Crushed

The pitch-black light flickered wildly in Qi Heng's hand, and black arcs of electricity crackled like snakes, desperately trying to devour his hand and even West City behind him.

But in Qi Heng's palm, a gentle golden aura quietly emerged—unassuming, yet firmly enveloping the ball of black energy.

At the boundary where gold and black collide, the energy violently cancels each other out, emitting a sharp hiss, like countless birdsongs mixed together.

Shattered light and darkness flew through the air.

But Qi Heng's hand remained completely still.

He stood casually in front of Kid Goku, his back not particularly broad, yet it seemed to separate him from the destruction of the entire world.

His movements were effortless, as if he had caught not a world-destroying meteor, but merely a glass marble thrown by a child.

His black hair swayed gently in the wind, and his golden eyes, deep and calm, gazed at the restless darkness in his palm.

His face was expressionless, devoid of joy or anger, leaving only an inscrutable calm.

The next second, Qi Heng's five fingers suddenly tightened, and his knuckles turned white from the force.

He seemed intent on completely crushing that raging energy.

The energy ball exploded silently in his palm, without a roar, leaving only a low hum.

The dark power, enough to destroy half of the West City, was like a extinguished candle flame, turning into countless tiny black particles that drifted and dissolved in the air.

The shockwave from the explosion didn't dissipate; it transformed into a ring of black air that spread outwards.

The ground was churned up with rubble, and the dilapidated buildings groaned in pain.

A fierce wind howled across the ruins, causing Qi Heng's dark robes to flutter wildly, but he remained rooted to the ground like a mountain, not even moving a hair.

Baby on the spot, her dark red pupils shrinking to the size of pinpoints.

His facial muscles twitched uncontrollably; his face, once etched with arrogance and cruelty, now held only unbelievable horror.

Baby the dark energy he had carefully condensed, which was powerful enough to destroy everything, was as soft as cotton in Qi Heng's hands, and he didn't even have a chance to resist.

"You... it's you again...!" His voice was squeezed out from between his teeth, hoarse and trembling.

He instinctively took a half step back, the gravel under his feet creaking.

His dark red eyes were fixed on Qi Heng, filled with fear, anger, and a deep-seated resentment.

He remembered that face, those golden eyes—the one who had suddenly appeared and disrupted everything when he had almost succeeded last time.

Qi Heng didn't even glance at him.

The aftershocks of the explosion hadn't completely dissipated, and the air was still filled with the scorching smell of annihilated energy. He had already turned around.

Black boots trod across the cracked ground, crushing a piece of charred concrete with a crisp sound.

He walked steadily toward the center of the worst ruins, as if he hadn't just crushed a ball of destructive energy, but merely brushed the dust off his shoulder.

His gaze fell on the small, thin figure kneeling on one knee.

Kid Goku knelt there, his body heaving from heavy breathing.

The golden aura and long hair of Super Saiyan 3 had long disappeared, and he had returned to the small, thin boy in the orange gi.

Now, however, his uniform is tattered, the fabric is torn in strips, and there are burn marks on the edges. His exposed skin is covered with bruises and abrasions.

Blood slid down the wound on his forehead, mixed with dust, meandering down his dirty cheek, and finally dripping onto the scorched ground, spreading out as small dark spots.

His mouth was split open, the bloodstains conspicuous, and he trembled slightly with his heavy breathing.

But when he looked up, his dark eyes were still bright. Although there were bruises and fatigue around his eyes, the light in them showed no despair, no surrender, only stubborn defiance, like a fire that refused to be extinguished in a storm.

"Super Saiyan 3." Qi Heng stopped in front of Kid Goku, his voice as calm as a still lake.

He lowered his head slightly, his golden pupils reflecting the child's scarred yet upright back.

"You've done a very good job to this extent," he said.

Kid Goku was panting heavily, each breath pulling at his wounds and causing excruciating pain.

He tilted his head back, sweat and blood mingling as they slid down his forehead, making him blink involuntarily as they flowed past the corners of his eyes.

He looked at Qi Heng, this mysterious and powerful man, his voice hoarse like sandpaper scraping. "Why... why did you make a move?"

He couldn't understand why this person, who had always been a detached observer and seemed indifferent to everything, would block Baby's fatal blow at the last moment.

Qi Heng shifted his gaze to the distant, empty sky.

A complex emotion flashed across the depths of his golden eyes, so fleeting as to be elusive.

"Because," his voice remained steady, but carried a subtle weight, "If you die here, I'll be in big trouble."

He didn't explain what "trouble" meant.

Is it the balance of the world? A predetermined trajectory? Or deeper, more personal reasons? There are no answers.

After saying that, he didn't linger and turned to leave.

The black figure stood out starkly against the backdrop of ruins.

He walked toward the Capsule Corporation's hemispherical building, his pace still unhurried, as if he had just dealt with a small matter while taking a stroll.

Sunlight fell on him, casting a long shadow that slanted across the broken tiles.

Baby stared intently at the receding figure, her dark red eyes almost spitting fire, but more so filled with a cold, inescapable fear.

His fists clenched so tightly they cracked, his nails digging deep into his palms, yet he felt no pain.

He knew that as long as that man was still alive, as long as he was still on Son Goku's side, all of today's plans were doomed to failure.

Continuing to entangle ourselves will only lead to more terrible consequences.

The word "withdraw" was almost forced out from Baby's clenched teeth, filled with humiliation and resentment.

He glared fiercely at Kid Goku and then suddenly waved his hand.

The warriors, whose minds were controlled by him, gathered behind him with empty eyes.

The next moment, black flames enveloped them, turning into a twisted, dark streak of light, like a fleeing ghost, hastily streaking across the sky above the West City Capital and quickly disappearing into the horizon.

The ruins fell silent once more, with only the mournful sound of the wind whistling through the broken walls and the faint sound of an alarm in the distance.

Only Kid Goku remained, kneeling amidst the ruins ravaged by the battle.

He braced his fists on the scorching ground, his knuckles turning white from the force.

He gasped for breath, trying to calm the churning blood and nearly exhausted energy within him.

The immense strain of Super Saiyan 3 put unimaginable pressure on this young body, and every muscle was aching and protesting.

"Grandpa..." a voice, trembling with tears, rang out cautiously.

Pan ran out from behind the collapsed billboard, her face covered in dust and tear stains, her blue hair a mess like a bird's nest.

She ran to Kid Goku's side, reaching out her slightly trembling little hand to support his swaying body.

Kid Goku shook his head, his movements slow but resolute.

He gritted his teeth, and with sheer willpower, slowly moved his heavy legs, finally managing to stand up, albeit unsteadily.

His body was still trembling, especially his legs, which were so weak he could barely stand.

But he still stood up straight, like a steel needle that was as hard as steel.

"I'm fine."

His voice was hoarse, yet carried an unwavering determination—as if he were convincing himself, or declaring war on some unseen enemy.

"But I need to become stronger."

He raised his hand and roughly wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his tattered sleeve, his eyes cold and fixed on the direction of the Capsule Corporation.

The balcony was empty; Qi Heng had left long ago, as if he had never been there.

Kid Goku was still looking in that direction when suddenly fire ignited in his black eyes—real fire.

It was a thirst for power, a stubborn desire to surpass, and a challenge to that figure's back.

He wanted to become stronger—strong enough to defeat that person.

"Strong enough... to defeat that guy."

His voice was soft, but every word struck like a block of iron in the silence of the ruins, and also into his own heart.

Pan stood behind him, looking at her grandfather.

Despite her slender build, her back was straighter than anyone else's.

Looking at the terrible injuries beneath her grandfather's tattered martial arts uniform, tears welled up in her large eyes, filled with heartache and confusion.

She really didn't understand. That uncle named Qi Heng was clearly so strong and could easily solve everything, but he always waited until the last moment, until Grandpa was covered in wounds, before he would make a move.

She didn't understand why her grandfather always had to bear all the enemies and all the pain alone.

But she always stayed by her grandfather's side, witnessing how many times he fell and got back up, and seeing the look in his eyes that showed he would never back down even when facing the strongest opponent.

There was one thing she knew very well, to the core of her being: her grandfather, Son Goku, had never truly given up.

And she, Bulma's granddaughter Gohan's daughter, will never abandon her grandfather.

Whether all she can do is hand over a Senzu Bean or shout "Go for it!", she will not back down an inch.

Far away, on the arched roof of the Capsule Corporation's main building.

Qi Heng had appeared there without anyone noticing; the wind was so strong it could blow a person over.

He had his hands in his pockets, his black hair was blown back by the wind, and his robes fluttered as if he were competing with the wind.

He stood on high ground, his gaze passing through the still chaotic streets of West City, looking towards the setting sun in the distance.

The golden afterglow fell upon him, as if adorning him with a beam of light.

"Son Goku."

He murmured a sentence so softly it was almost swallowed by the wind, and only he could hear it.

Those golden eyes, which had always been calm and undisturbed, now gleamed with an unfathomable light in the setting sun, as if they held endless time and secrets.

"Your limits are far beyond Super Saiyan 3."

A stronger gust of wind swept by, causing the hem of his clothes to flutter wildly.

A glint of golden light flashed in his eyes, as if anticipating something, yet also as if coldly scrutinizing it.

"Let me see how far you can go on this path. Can you really break down that invisible wall?"