The Thing Vegeta Regretted Most Was Coming to Earth

In the cold depths of the universe, a ferocious-looking spherical ship with sharp lines sped through space.

Inside the cabin, a signal point on the main console that had represented Raditz's vital signs abruptly and cleanly went dark without warning.

Vegeta, the sole remaining Prince of the Saiyan race, sat in a red lounge chair with one leg crossed over the other.

Seeing the signal vanish, he merely snorted shortly through his nose.

"Heh. Trash." His voice was not loud, yet it carried the indifference of the deep chill of space.

Raditz? He was nothing but garbage. If he died, he died. It was no different from an insect crushed beneath someone's foot on some planet.

His only value was the absurdly high reading that had spiked just before his detector exploded, as well as the final blurry coordinates it had sent back—Earth.

"Nappa." Vegeta could not even be bothered to raise his eyelids as he ordered the muscular, gleaming bald strongman beside him, "Pack up. We're leaving."

Nappa smiled. "Yes, Prince Vegeta! Hehehe, are we going to collect that idiot Raditz's corpse? And crush the insects on that Low-Level Planet while we're at it?"

Vegeta did not answer. The corners of his mouth merely curved into a cold arc, one devoid of any amusement—there was only pure anticipation for destruction, along with a trace of curiosity about the truth behind the detector's explosion.

Hopefully, this "low-level" planet called Earth had a few pebbles that might at least be worth stepping on.

The ship engine let out a deep roar, tearing through the silence of space. The vessel became a dazzling streak of flowing light and leaped toward that insignificant blue coordinate point on the star map.

Earth, a bustling city.

The sun was shining, and the breeze was gentle.