Vegeta had somehow fixed Krillin in a deadly stare, his brows tightly furrowed. The usual pride and impatience in his eyes had now turned into a dangerous, icy glint.
The way he looked at Krillin made it seem as though what Krillin had just said was a grave insult.
Krillin shuddered all over. Like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, he snapped upright and frantically waved his hands before his chest, forcing out a dry smile uglier than crying. "Ah! Vegeta! You heard wrong! I meant... I meant that you and Mr. Chen Feng both have that... that aura of a powerful warrior! Right, kingly bearing! The especially impressive kind! Ha... hahaha..."
Though he was dryly laughing aloud, his back was already soaked in cold sweat. Inside, he cursed his own rotten luck and wished he could immediately find a crack in the ground and burrow into the red sand of this nameless planet.
Sunlight spilled through the pillars of the temple colonnade, casting mottled patterns of light and shadow across the white jade tiles.
A breeze drifted by, carrying the faint fragrance of flowers from the distant garden.
Standing among the crowd, Chen Feng listened to Whis and Beerus chatting casually. The corners of his mouth rose unconsciously, his smile gentle and tranquil, like ripples lightly spreading across spring water.
Like Vegeta? Perhaps.
His gaze swept toward the Saiyan prince in the distance, standing with his arms crossed and defiance written all over his face.
When all was said and done, they really did resemble each other somewhat—both stood at the pinnacle of Saiyan bloodlines, both bore the burden of reviving their entire race, with the hopes of their people and a dignity never to be trampled weighing upon their shoulders.
Vegeta stood there with his back