Kaido dragged the broken Hassaikai behind him. The heavy, spiked club plowed deep trenches into the rocky ground. He casually stepped over the puddle of purple blood Ginyu had left behind, his foot making a sickening, squelching sound.
In the rubble, three orange spheres emitted a faint glow.
Kaido bent down, his massive black dragon claws pinching the three orbs. The spheres had red stars patterned on them and felt perfectly smooth to the touch. Kaido held them up to his eyes, his dark gold pupils filled with undisguised disdain.
"So these are the beads the Manager wanted?" He scoffed, two jets of scorching white steam shooting from his thick nostrils. "They look like cheap glass marbles for the brats in the East Blue. You're telling me this junk can grant wishes? Bring the dead back to life? I swear, I'll never understand the Manager's tastes."
Despite his complaints, Kaido didn't hesitate. He popped the cork on his massive booze gourd, downed the rest of the fiery liquor in a single gulp, and dropped the three Dragon Balls inside. Plop. Plop. Plop. He gave the gourd a hard shake, listening to the crisp clacking of the orbs hitting the sides, and let out a satisfied, drunken burp.
These were his bargaining chips. He intended to claim a massive reward from the Manager. He had witnessed firsthand the terrifying, rule-shattering power the Manager possessed. That was a true god. Compared to that, these aliens who relied on scouters to calculate combat power were like idiots trying to measure the depth of the ocean with a ruler. They knew nothing of Haki. They knew nothing of Will.
Kaido patted his Dragon Ball-filled gourd. As long as he brought all seven back, whatever the Manager gave him in return would be more than enough for him to walk sideways across the entire One Piece world. When that time came, whether it was Whitebeard or that red-haired brat, they would all be crushed beneath his heel. He would prove that Kaido of the Beasts was the absolute strongest security guard in the Myriad Heavens Tavern.
A faint gasp drifted up from the bottom of the crater. Vegeta struggled to open his swollen eyes. His vision had long since been blurred by his own blood.
Kaido dragged his club over to the edge of the pit. His ten-meter-tall Demon Dragon frame completely blotted out the sun, casting Vegeta in a pitch-black shadow.
"The Prince of all Saiyans, huh?" Kaido looked down at the proud little man, his tone dripping with mockery. "A piece of trash who can't even take a single swing of my club has the nerve to boast about his noble bloodline every five seconds?"
Kaido lifted a massive, scale-covered foot and planted it squarely on Vegeta's chest. The crisp sound of ribs snapping was exceptionally loud in the dead silence of the ruins.
"Gahhhhh!" Vegeta bit his lip so hard it bled, a feral, beastly snarl tearing from his throat. He coughed up a mouthful of frothy blood mixed with bits of internal organs. Yet, in those pitch-black eyes burned a fury born of ultimate humiliation. He glared up at the horned monster without an ounce of surrender.
"You... filthy... unevolved monkey..." Vegeta's voice was broken, stuttering, but his pride absolutely refused to let him beg for mercy. Even if he died, he would die as the Prince of the warrior race, the Saiyans.
His breathing was ragged, sounding like a broken bellows. The Saiyan pride he held higher than life itself was currently being ground into the dirt by a native who didn't even know how to use ki. He couldn't accept it. He still had to surpass Kakarot. He still had to kill Frieza. He couldn't die in a nameless wasteland like this.
Seeing Vegeta's stubborn refusal to simply die, Kaido's mockery deepened. "Don't look at me like that. In my world, weakness is a sin. Without strength, your bloodline isn't worth a single fart."
Kaido applied a fraction more pressure. Two more of Vegeta's ribs snapped. The agonizing pain nearly sent Vegeta into shock, but he didn't utter a single whimper. His sheer stubbornness actually earned a modicum of respect from Kaido.
Meanwhile, on the other side of Namek, deep inside the colossal saucer-shaped spaceship.
Shrill red alarms blared frantically down the corridors. Frieza sat in his personal hoverchair, gently swirling a glass of crimson wine. His pale face betrayed no emotion whatsoever.
The automatic doors to the command bridge snapped open. Jeice scrambled inside, tumbling head over heels. He didn't even bother trying to stand; his knees buckled, and he prostrated himself on the metallic floor, his forehead slamming hard against the plating.
"Lord Frieza!" Jeice's voice was pitched high with extreme terror. "Captain Ginyu... the Captain is..."
Frieza stopped swirling his glass. He tilted his head slightly, his blood-red eyes falling upon the groveling Jeice. "What happened to Ginyu? Didn't he go to deal with that traitor, Vegeta?"
Jeice was trembling uncontrollably, massive beads of cold sweat pouring down his red skin. "The Captain was crippled by a horned native! That monster... he's not human! He shattered the Captain's jaw! He even broke through the Body Change technique! The Captain's bones are completely shattered... he's barely clinging to life!"
Shatter. The wine glass in Frieza's hand exploded. Glass shards and red wine mixed together, dripping from his pale, slender fingers onto the floor.
The air on the command bridge froze. The surrounding soldiers held their breath, suppressing even their heartbeats to the absolute limit.
"Oh?" Frieza's voice was still soft, but every syllable dripped with bone-chilling hostility. "Ginyu was defeated?"
He pressed a button on the armrest of his hoverchair. A holographic map of Namek's energy signatures popped up. A specific coordinate was blinking with a blinding red light—an extremely anomalous energy reading.
"A power level of 120,000." Frieza stared at the data, a hint of disdain slipping into his tone. "And he actually lost to a wild monkey who doesn't even own Battle Armor. It seems the Ginyu Force has grown far too comfortable over the years. They've even forgotten how to kill."
He pulled out a pristine white handkerchief, methodically wiping the wine from his fingers. "That idiot Ginyu. He always wasted so much time on those utterly pointless dances. Now it's cost him his life."
Frieza's eyes grew increasingly dangerous. He had traveled all the way to this backwater planet for his wish of eternal youth. He was on the verge of gathering all seven Dragon Balls. He absolutely would not allow anyone to ruin his plans. Not the remnants of the Saiyans, and certainly not some random monster native. Anyone who dared stand in Lord Frieza's way would be ground into cosmic dust.
He looked at his pale palm. It had been a long time since anyone had forced him to take action personally. He had almost forgotten the thrill of tearing prey apart piece by piece.
Frieza rose from his hoverchair. His thick white tail lashed irritably against the metal floor with heavy thuds.
"Activate the ship's highest-tier scanners," Frieza commanded, his voice echoing through the hall. "Lock onto the coordinates of that horned native immediately."
The soldiers at the consoles frantically inputted the commands. The red dot on the screen magnified rapidly, the coordinates locking perfectly. Frieza glanced at the radar. He casually dropped the soiled handkerchief onto the floor.
"Since Ginyu is completely useless and can't even retrieve a few orbs, I suppose I will have to fetch my Dragon Balls personally. And while I'm at it, I will teach this arrogant native what the fury of the Emperor of the Universe tastes like."
Frieza levitated into the air. Without sparing Jeice another glance, he flew straight toward the ship's exit. The soldiers along the way quickly bowed their heads and moved aside. No one dared risk the Emperor's wrath.
Back in the rocky ruins, Kaido had grown bored of his stomping game. He raised the broken Hassaikai, ready to smash Vegeta's proud skull and end the Saiyan Prince's pitiful life.
Right as the club was about to fall, Kaido froze. His dark gold, slit-like pupils contracted into fine needles. He snapped his head up, looking toward the oppressive, green-clouded sky of Namek.
A terrifying, apocalyptic aura was rapidly approaching. This wasn't anything like Ginyu's paltry 120,000. This was several times—no, dozens of times more massive. The aura was crashing toward his location at speeds that tore the very atmosphere apart. Kaido could even feel the surrounding gravity warping slightly. The air grew impossibly thick, and every breath stung with scorching heat.
Instead of fear, the battle-hungry blood in his veins boiled. The scales of his Demon Dragon body scraped together in pure anticipation. Kaido's Conqueror's Haki leaked uncontrollably from his body, manifesting as black and red lightning that crackled wildly in the air.
He could feel it. The approaching combatant was leagues above a weakling like Ginyu. This was the kind of battle he craved. This was the kind of bloodbath that got his heart pounding.
Kaido tightened his grip on the Hassaikai, the veins on the back of his hand bulging. He was going to use this alien's blood to christen his newly awakened Demon Dragon Body.
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