The alloy door slid shut behind him.
Turles walked down the passage toward the barracks.
As for what had just happened, Frieza had seemed like a good boss who was considerate toward a disrespectful subordinate, but it had really been more of a warning to Vegeta.
Turles had also noticed that, in his memories from his previous life, the idea that Frieza was so afraid of Super Saiyans had slowly begun to be overturned after the Battle of Gods arc.
First, the original explanation that Frieza had destroyed Planet Vegeta out of fear of Super Saiyans had been expanded upon: he had acted on the orders of Beerus, the God of Destruction.
So his motive no longer showed that Frieza was afraid of the Super Saiyan, who still existed only in legend.
Then there was Vegeta.
Why had Frieza deliberately spared Vegeta when he wiped out Planet Vegeta all those years ago?
Wasn't it because he held the title of the supposedly most gifted warrior in Saiyan history?
If any Saiyan was most likely to become a Super Saiyan, it was Vegeta.
Hadn't Frieza kept him alive to see whether Vegeta could actually become the so-called Super Saiyan?
How could he have been afraid?
Finally, Frieza's innate arrogance meant he had never taken the universe's strongest warrior, who existed only in legend, seriously at all.
No matter how strong he was, could he be stronger than Frieza, the emperor of the universe?
Of course, Frieza didn't believe it.
But even now, Prince Vegeta, in whom he had once placed such high hopes, had never given him a single pleasant surprise.
A power level of 18,000 wasn't exactly weak by the standards of the universe, but it fell rather short of the universe's strongest warrior, the Super Saiyan.
To the people of the universe, who generally gave little thought to training, Vegeta was already an adult, and his power level was basically set.
So it could be said that Frieza valued Vegeta less and less with each passing day.
Now that Turles, a fellow Saiyan with a much higher power level, had entered his sights, the most gifted Saiyan Prince in history was even less pleasing to him.
Once he had a more capable employee, he naturally had to put the weaker, show-off veteran employee in his place. At the very least, he had to make him feel a little insecure.
Frieza truly deserved his reputation as the evil boss with the most personal charisma in Dragon Ball.
Even when putting an employee in his place, he did it with such tact and gentlemanly grace.
Turles shook his head at the thought.
Turles rounded the last bend in the corridor.
The entrance to the barracks area was just ahead.
Three figures blocked it.
Nappa stood with both arms folded across his chest, his bald head gleaming and the veins on his neck throbbing. His whole face was twisted into a picture of displeasure.
Raditz stood on the right.
His long hair hung down, and his eyes were fixed on the ground.
The one leaning against the wall on the left was naturally Vegeta.
His arms were crossed and his shoulder rested against the wall, as though he had just happened to pass by and stopped there for no particular reason.
Vegeta had left the command room before him.
If he had really been going back to the barracks, this wasn't the route he would have taken.
He had deliberately come around to wait at this spot, a blind spot with no surveillance.
There was no other possibility except that he had come here specifically to block Turles's path.
Turles slowed his steps slightly, the corners of his mouth lifting a little.
"Well, if it isn't our prince. You didn't come all this way to wait for me because you've prepared some kind of welcoming ceremony, did you?"
Vegeta didn't move.
Nappa was the first to step forward.
"You bastard! You're pretty damn cocky!"
The veins on his bald head throbbed even harder as Nappa strode forward, nearly blocking the entire corridor.
"You've only been in the army a few days and you already dare to strut around here? Do you know you're talking to the great Nappa?!"
Turles didn't even look up at him.
His gaze passed over Nappa's enormous head and landed directly on Vegeta, who stood against the wall behind him.
The gesture made Nappa's face darken further.
"I'm talking to you!"
Turles finally gave Nappa a glance.
"I'm not interested in chatting with a guard dog."
Nappa's head buzzed.
Beneath his long hair, Raditz frowned deeply.
"What did you say?!"
Nappa's anger had already risen to his throat. He raised his hand, fingers spread, and aimed his palm at Turles's chest.
"Nappa."
Nappa's raised hand froze in midair. The energy gathered in his palm dissipated completely.
He turned to look at Vegeta.
Vegeta didn't look at him.
Nappa gritted his teeth, lowered his hand, and stepped aside. His chest was still heaving.
Silence hung over the scene for a while.
Vegeta finally straightened up from the wall.
He raised his left hand and pressed the activation button on the side of his scouter.
The lens lit up.
It locked precisely onto Turles.
The readings began to change.
38,000!
Nappa tilted his head, trying to see the reading on Vegeta's scouter, but the angle was wrong. All he could see was a layer of green light reflected on the lens.
"Vegeta?"
There was no response.
Vegeta's Adam's apple moved.
It bobbed up and down.
His hand was still raised beside the scouter, his finger resting on the button.
He pressed it again.
The lens flickered as it scanned the data again.
But the result remained unchanged.
Nappa noticed Vegeta's lowered hand clenching slightly.
"Vegeta, what's wrong?" Nappa gave him another suspicious look.
Vegeta's lips seemed to tremble slightly.
Sweat seeped from his forehead and ran down his temples, dripping onto the collar of his battle suit when it reached his chin.
"Impossible!"
His voice rose from low to high.
"This is fake!"
Nappa's body tensed instinctively.
Raditz took half a step back, his back pressing against the wall.
They both sensed a faint sign that things were about to spiral out of control.
Vegeta's breathing grew heavier.
His chest rose and fell more forcefully with each breath.
Then his ki began to leak out.
A scorching wave of energy spread outward from the surface of Vegeta's body.
The alloy plates on the corridor floor were made of military-grade material resistant to high pressure, yet now they creaked under the invisible force.
"I'm the most gifted Saiyan warrior!"
Vegeta roared.
His voice bounced back and forth through the corridor.
The metal walls sent the words echoing back and forth, vibrating with a hum.
His whole face twisted.
His features were so contorted they seemed out of place.
As far back as Vegeta could remember, those words had been engraved in his bones.
His father, King Vegeta, had said so.
Every Saiyan on Planet Vegeta who saw him had said the same.
Even all the people in the universe who knew the Saiyans had said so!
Of all time!
The most gifted Saiyan warrior!
It had long since become more than just a compliment.
It was his label.
One of the pillars of his life!
He might have been able to accept being weaker than anyone else, but the one person he couldn't accept being weaker than was a Saiyan!