What's Going On?

Frieza had been drafting us for expeditions year after year. Strong warriors kept falling, and even marriage had become a luxury—of the surviving elites, seven out of ten had failed to leave behind any offspring. Let's hope this batch of babies produces a few more who can carry the banner!" The Saiyan beside him let out a heavy sigh, his breastplate rising and falling with his breath. Saiyans loved bloody battle to their bones, but no matter how fierce a race was, it could not withstand such catastrophic losses! His companion nodded, a faint light burning in his eyes. "I heard King Vegeta's wife is already pregnant... The King himself is universally acknowledged as the ceiling of our race's combat power, with top-tier bloodlines; the Queen is also one of the sharpest female warriors. If she truly gives birth to a prince, that child's starting combat power—might just pierce the heavens!" These words reached Lin Feng's ears like a flame scorching across his heart. He grinned and cackled uncontrollably. King Vegeta's wife was pregnant, and Vegeta had not yet been born. That meant there were still nearly seven years before the Dragon Balls story truly began! Seven years—enough for him to tear off the label of weakling, clench his fists, and carve out a path to survival with his own hands before the catastrophe of his race's extinction descended! "What's going on? Hiss—!" "What happened... Hiss!!" "Hiss!!!" The other three Saiyans scattered outside the pods all turned their heads at once, staring fixedly at the energy display before Lin Feng's incubation pod. Their Adam's apples bobbed as sharp breaths rang out one after another. "1... 121! A freak genius seen once in a thousand years!" "The birth limit of every top elite throughout history was capped at 120! This child... actually exceeded it by an entire point?!" "Could... could it be..." The lead Saiyan's teeth chattered as he exchanged glances with the others, his throat dry. "Su... Super Saiyan?!" Saiyan adult combat power was outwardly divided into just three ranks: low-class, mid-class, and elite. Yet among the elites, there was another distinction: those below ten thousand combat power were called high-class warriors, while only those who broke ten thousand qualified as elite warriors. A newborn's talent scale was even more detailed—low-class, mid-class, high-class, and elite, with clear divisions. Below 30 was low-class, 30 to 60 was mid-class, 60 to 90 was high-class, and only 90 to 120 qualified as elite warrior material. Though it was merely a potential score, it was practically a verdict on one's fate! For example, below 10 barely counted as low-class, and was the trash of the low-class trash heap (Kakarot); 10 to 20 was inferior low-class combat power (Raditz); only 20 to 30 counted as genuinely respectable low-class warriors (Turles).

Above that, each rank was further split into "lower-lower grade," "middle-lower grade," and "standard rank." When Vegeta was born, the number flashing on the energy display had been 117—the crown among elites. It was not as though no one in history had broken through 120. But they could be counted on one hand: over the past three hundred years on Planet Vegeta, only five had achieved it. Every one of those five had been a titan who stirred the seas of stars, standing at the pinnacle of Saiyan glory. After a brief daze, the lead Saiyan suddenly roared, "Quick! Report this to King Vegeta immediately!" One person turned to run, only to be stopped like lightning by the Saiyan recording the data at the side. "Wait! Don't rush!" "Bekmoka, move aside! How can there be even the slightest delay when such an unprecedented genius has been born?!" "Kimota, calm down—first find out who this child's parents are! If the King asks, are you going to open your mouth and say, 'I don't know'?" Kimota froze, immediately stopping as he and the leader accessed the records side by side. "Hiss—!!" "How... how is that possible..." "Xuesaiya... Barota?! He's actually the child of those two?!" Xuesaiya was completely different from her younger sister Xuesaili—she was merely a mid-class female warrior. Barota, meanwhile, had been a peak elite, one of the strongest fighters in the entire race, but... just months ago, he had died in battle on Planet Canglu, with even his body never recovered. Looking at the infant in the pod, who had been destined to be alone from the moment he opened his eyes, the group fell silent for a long time before gently shaking their heads. According to clan rules, the difficulty of a mission assigned to a planet was directly tied to the baby's combat power. Saiyans worshipped battle and never deliberately sent children to their deaths; however, the more extraordinary one's talent, the more outrageous the mission difficulty—far beyond what ordinary lower-mid-ranked warriors could compare to. Moreover, the situation across the starfields changed by the moment. Who could say when some cosmic overlord might shatter the atmosphere and descend upon the child's assigned mission planet? Therefore, many parents without missions would quietly lurk beyond the planetary orbit, secretly protecting their young through their first dangerous trials while casually eliminating local powerhouses capable of killing them in a single blow. Now that Barota was dead, while Lin Feng possessed talent far beyond the genius threshold... with Xuesaiya alone at the level of a mid-class warrior, if one of the universe's top experts truly descended upon Lin Feng's assigned planet, she would not merely fail to protect him—she might not even be able to save herself. Lin Feng stared up at her with wide, innocent, trusting eyes. Xuesaiya's throat tightened, and she silently sighed. "I only hope... Xuesaili can return during the three-year grace period earned by his parents' deaths."

With Xuesaili's terrifying combat power beyond ten thousand, escorting her nephew to his mission and casually clearing out a few nests of high-level Pa-Bugs would make things truly secure. Furthermore, when both Saiyan parents died, their children automatically received a three-year golden growth period on Planet Vegeta—an ironclad clan law meant to ensure that the bloodline's flame would not be extinguished. For Saiyan children, those three years were enough for a complete transformation: their strength doubled, their bodies were tempered, they gained practical combat experience, and their missions had already been precisely matched to them at birth. By the time they matured and set off, the difficulty would already have been reduced by more than half. With the Saiyans' innate talent for battle, sweeping across an entire planet was practically a certainty. The sudden emergence of a monstrous genius with combat power over 120 sent all of Planet Vegeta into upheaval! 120—this number had long ceased to be a threshold. It was the dividing line of top experts, foretelling that one would surely reach the peak of Saiyan combat power in the future. And 121? No one had ever seen it, much less dared estimate its limit! The first great barrier for Saiyans had always been thirty thousand combat power. This was no secret within the race. But this obstacle only weighed upon high-class and elite warriors. As for bottom-tier cannon fodder and ordinary mid-class warriors? They might never even touch ten thousand in their entire lives. Thirty thousand? That was a height they did not dare dream of. But for truly powerful warriors, thirty thousand was the real purgatory. Countless prodigies who became famous young had exhausted their vitality and burned through their potential, only to remain trapped before this barrier, never again able to glimpse the vast sea of stars deep within the universe. Yet Lin Feng's birth rekindled a spark in these veterans' hearts—120 was the limit for top-tier talent, but he had crossed beyond it. That glimmer of light might truly be able to bore through that ancient wall of bronze... Mengya Rock! Xuesaiya, who had just joined forces with her younger sister Xuesaili to bathe this planet in blood, abruptly stopped when she received the message from Planet Vegeta, her pupils shrinking sharply! 121 combat power! Unprecedented throughout history! For a moment, she did not know whether to laugh or tremble. Joy? It surged like raging seas. Excitement? It shot straight to the crown of her head. Absurdity? Yet it was so real that it made her shiver. Xuesaili shot her sister a sidelong glance, a hint of sour envy flashing through her eyes. She casually spat out the grass stem in her mouth and snorted. "Tch, my little nephew crushed 120 the moment he was born. He's far more promising than that lazy daughter of yours!" Xuesaiya chuckled. She knew her sister's temperament all too well—despite getting married and becoming a mother, her habit of acting spoiled and throwing tantrums had not changed in the slightest. If anything, it had only gotten worse. She shook her head and helplessly dealt her sister another blow. "Your daughter Palanti was born with 74 combat power. Adjusted for the rarity of female Saiyans, that potential genuinely exceeds that of a male baby with over a hundred points. What are you still dissatisfied with?" "Before I heard about this, of course I was satisfied!" Xuesaili pouted and muttered. "But your child already showed his hand first. How am I supposed to feel good about it?" Before her words had even faded, there was not a trace left of the cold killing intent she had displayed while massacring an entire continent. She looked exactly like a little girl sulking because her child had been outdone. Xuesaiya could not be bothered responding. There was truly no point in comparing such things. Though female Saiyans were rare, and 74 combat power in a woman represented far greater actual potential than the same number in a man, most Saiyans still hoped to have sons deep down. If she could choose, Xuesaili would rather have had a male baby with around a hundred points. After all, the cosmic battlefield was too brutal. Resources, status, and the right to survive all depended on the strength of one's fists. Female warriors faced mortal danger whenever they ventured out, so most of them remained on Planet Vegeta and rarely joined expeditions. Seeing her sister absentmindedly grinning again, Xuesaili sighed helplessly, her voice suddenly turning cold. "Sis, stop spacing out. The Pa-Bugs on the remaining continent haven't been cleared out yet. We should head back." Xuesaiya froze, then hurriedly nodded. "Ah, right! Let's go!" The other three female warriors who had fought alongside them silently watched the undisguised smile at the corner of Xuesaiya's lips, their eyes filled with envy. They each had children as well, but they were either merely mid-class warrior material, or barely qualified high-class warrior prospects hovering around the lower-middle range. Before a monstrous existence with 121 combat power, they were too embarrassed to even mention comparisons. While the entire race was shaken, no one realized that Lin Feng was sitting blankly inside his incubation pod, staring fixedly at the chaotic roulette wheel that had suddenly appeared in his mind. It had no face, no outline—only a circle of profound rotating patterns, like a sleeping galaxy. Primordial Dao-Nurturing. The four words rumbled through his consciousness like heavenly thunder, branding themselves into his soul, impossible to erase. After his shock came wild ecstasy that nearly made his fingertips go numb! Reincarnating as a Saiyan had already been a gift from the heavens, and now another heaven-defying opportunity had fallen into his lap. He was so excited that even his breathing lost its rhythm! The instant his consciousness touched the edge of the roulette wheel, the entire wheel erupted with blazing violet radiance!

The instant the light engulfed him, a vast flood of information crashed into his mind—agony tore through his nerves, and his teeth clenched with loud clacks. After a long time, the pain gradually faded. Only then did he tremblingly probe into the depths of his consciousness and see the ancient characters condensed almost into substance: Dragon Elephant Prison-Suppressing Art! One month later, the doors of Planet Vegeta's infant cultivation chambers opened in succession, and batches of Saiyan children were sent off to carry out missions across various places. Lin Feng, however, was legally granted a three-year growth reprieve because his father Barota had died in battle on Planet Canglu. Saiyans were born fighters, but ever since King Vegeta submitted to Frieza, the technological development of the entire planet had soared at an incredible pace, changing with each passing day. Though Lin Feng's father had long spilled his blood on the battlefield and his mother was still fighting somewhere far away, with no news of her whereabouts, he was still solemnly placed in the residence that had once belonged to his parents! A holographic butler, a bionic nanny, a hovering transport pod, a dynamic combat power scanner... Within this modest space, everything was compact and refined! Time flew by in the blink of an eye! Five full months had quietly passed since Lin Feng had been infused with the fundamentals of ki, combat essentials, and rules of survival before being sent back to Barota and Xuesaiya's home. During those five months, he had already woven future technology into every breath of his daily life—it had become entirely ordinary to him. Perhaps it truly was because the Saiyan bloodline surged with innate violent potential, but by his third month, Lin Feng could already prop himself up with his tiny hands, shakily stand, and toddle forward step by step. Now, at only five months old, he could leap and dart about, even hovering and gliding short distances—his agility was like that of a seven- or eight-year-old child on Earth! Yes, in just one hundred and fifty days, he had not only sensed the pulse of ki but had also discovered the knack of the Sky Dance Art through countless stumbles and falls, truly taking to the air for the first time! His home was vast enough to take one's breath away. It had once belonged to one of the Saiyan race's strongest warriors, and every furnishing within radiated sharpness and nobility. Cold metallic light reflected energy patterns, carrying an oppressive force even in silence. The combat room! Saiyans' obsession with battle was known throughout the universe. Even if they went without sleep or rest, an unrestless urge always stirred in their bones, demanding a fight. This sealed space was the unchanging "heartbeat" of every Saiyan household... The ground was a furnace; he stood like a divine elephant bearing mountains. In his mind, an azure dragon shattered the clouds while a giant elephant suppressed the abyss.

Using the Shenron Body as the guide and the Elephant-Subduing Stance as the foundation, he directed his qi and blood to surge like rivers, repeatedly hammering his bones and muscles while tempering his internal organs. Where had this Dragon Elephant Prison-Suppressing Art come from? Lin Feng had no idea. But he knew one thing clearly—this technique was by no means an ordinary body-tempering method. It might not surpass Goku's Eight-Nine Mystical Art, but it was certainly a supreme body-refining treasure capable of dominating the sea of stars! The Saiyans of this world, and indeed nearly the entire universe, focused almost entirely on cultivating ki. Their bodies might be powerful, yet they could never match the terrifying strength erupting from the depths of their souls. Thinking back to the era of Dragon Balls: Goku, Vegeta, Gohan, Frieza, Cell... Which of them was not an apocalyptic existence capable of blasting apart planets with a raised hand and tearing apart atmospheres with a wave? Yet their physical bodies remained so fragile that they could not withstand a full-force blow from themselves! It was simply absurd—those who wielded the power to pluck stars still could not even endure the vacuum of space? Crushing a star with bare hands should have been an instinct of the body, not something achieved only by borrowing the might of ki. Yet reality was this: during Frieza's fourth transformation, his body directly began to break apart, forcing him to suppress his combat power at 530,000 for years on end. Goku and the others could not maintain even their Super Saiyan forms for long—why? Because their flesh-and-blood bodies simply could not support the vast energy surging within them! Once their ki ran dry, even the strongest warrior instantly became meat on the chopping block, at the mercy of others. They could destroy planets as easily as tossing stones, yet once their ki was depleted, they were weaker than infants—how could that be the pinnacle of martial arts? It was plainly a massive flaw! It was precisely because he saw through this that Lin Feng regarded the Dragon Elephant Prison-Suppressing Art that had emerged from Primordial Dao-Nurturing as his very life, treasuring it more than bone and blood! ...Another five months passed! Inside the combat room, Lin Feng, not yet a year old, bent his limbs slightly and crouched upon the alloy floor like a little elephant that had just opened its eyes, his bright black pupils quietly sweeping across his surroundings. Hoo—! Hoo—! Hoo—!! Heavy, powerful inhalations exploded in succession, as though an ancient giant elephant were drawing up a storm. His tiny body rose and fell with them, his chest and abdomen swelling like a war drum. Within him, his qi and blood roiled like an enraged dragon crashing into mountains, rushing hotly through his meridians again and again, scouring, tearing apart, and regenerating them! Cultivating this art consumed life and burned blood. Every day after finishing his practice, Lin Feng had to soak in a nutritional life-support pod, relying on high-concentration active factors to replenish his losses bit by bit. Wooo—!!