He paused, his voice carrying a hint of genuine regret. "What a pity."
Those words struck directly at the deepest scar in Vegeta's heart like a needle.
The prince's expression darkened at once, and even the air seemed to grow oppressive.
He lowered his arms from his chest, his fists clenching tightly at his sides, his knuckles turning slightly white—he was using too much force.
"A pity?"
Vegeta's voice was as cold as ice in space, every word bitten out hard. "Are you pitying us?"
Chen Feng shook his head, the golden patterns on his cape flashing faintly with the motion.
"Not pity. Reflection."
His gaze grew distant. "The Saiyans of the Sixth Universe are thriving. They established a complete civilization and society long ago. The Saiyans of the Seventh Universe..."
He looked at Vegeta and Son Goku again. "The same race, yet completely different fates."
Vegeta remained silent, his fists trembling slightly—not from anger, nor fear.
That tremor ran deeper, more complex. It was the eternal pain of a royal bloodline over the extinction of its people, a wound not even time could heal.
He gritted his teeth, his jawline taut as stone.
Son Goku immediately noticed the change in his mood and gave Vegeta's shoulder a heavy pat—an ordinary person's bones would probably have shattered, but Vegeta merely swayed.
"Vegeta, don't think so much about it."
Son Goku's voice remained bright, though he was unusually serious. "Aren't we doing pretty well now? And we're still getting stronger!"
Vegeta snorted coldly. He neither shook off Son Goku's hand nor said anything.
His gaze remained fixed on Chen Feng, too complicated to read—wariness, scrutiny, and perhaps a trace of curiosity about the Saiyan civilization of another universe that he himself was unwilling to admit.
Just as the atmosphere turned tense,