Carcasses littered the landscape.
To any ordinary observer, the sight of these bodies would be a source of pure terror. After all, those lying cold on the ground were none other than the most feared warriors in the galaxy.
They were the Ginyu Force, the elite of the elite who had spread dread across the stars as Frieza's personal executioners. Seeing four of them reduced to mere corpses was a sight few would ever believe possible.
The ones responsible were Cooler's Armored Squadron. Though they numbered only three, each was a powerhouse whose individual strength surpassed Captain Ginyu himself. For years, the two units had viewed each other as rivals, but when they finally clashed, the outcome was brutally one-sided.
With power levels hovering around 50,000, the Ginyu Force stood no chance against even a single member of the Armored Squadron. Even Ginyu's trump card, his Body Change, was useless—the Squadron knew of the ability and simply refused to give him the opening to use it.
In the original timeline, Ginyu had only managed to secure a hollow victory against Goku by stealing his 180,000 power-level body. Against three warriors of that same caliber who were already expecting his tricks, Ginyu's defeat was a mathematical certainty.
Perhaps if they had brought Guldo, things might have been different. His time-freezing and psychic paralysis could have created the opening for a successful body swap. But without him, the four remaining members were slaughtered.
The long-standing blood feud ended with a whimper. Having butchered their rivals, the Armored Squadron moved out to investigate a strange energy signature on their scouters.
However, they didn't get far.
Deep in the wilderness, the Armored Squadron met their own end. They had tracked a power signature that was staying out of the main conflict, hoping to find a lead on the Dragon Balls. What they found was a Namekian. Thinking he was just a frail old man, the three of them attacked.
They were wrong. This wasn't a peaceful villager; he was a Super Namekian—a creature of pure malice. Lord Slugslaughtered the three elites with effortless cruelty, leaving them as nothing more than mangled remains in the dirt.
"What were these weaklings even trying to do?" Slug muttered, resting on his mobile throne as he surveyed the area.
His scouts hadn't returned, and the Dragon Balls remained out of his reach. Based on the intruders he had just killed, it was clear that a massive war for the spheres was currently ravaging the planet. He correctly surmised that his scouts had likely been killed by one of the higher-tier powers fighting in the distance.
His army was gone. He had covered the planet in dark clouds to protect his men from the sun, but a massive pillar of light had recently torn through the sky, vaporizing his weather-control system. For all his power, his subordinates couldn't survive an hour in direct sunlight. When they came crawling back in fear, Slug had simply vaporized them for their cowardice. He had also executed his lead scientist, Kakooza, for the "shoddy workmanship" of the clouds.
"Hmph. It seems I must handle this personally."
Slug stood up, his heavy cape fluttering. He carried the absolute confidence of a conqueror. In any other scenario, his confidence would be justified—he was strong enough to wipe out the Armored Squadron with ease.
But there is always a bigger fish. Slug had never lost a fight, but compared to the monsters currently clashing on Namek—Frieza and Cooler—he was merely "upper-mid" tier. On this planet, the cycle of death claimed those who misjudged their own strength first.
Slug's turn to be a sacrifice was coming soon.
***
"...Nngh."
Inside a dark cave, Lisette opened her eyes. Her head was foggy, and the reality of her situation took a moment to click.
All she knew was that she was in a world of pain. She tried to move her fingers, but her body refused to respond.
(I can't even open a Gate... I don't have enough energy left for even a simple rift.)
If she could have opened her sub-space pocket, she could have used telekinesis to pull out a Senzu Bean. Since she couldn't, she was forced to wait for her body to heal naturally. She regretted being stingy with the beans during the fight with Cooler, but the side effects made them tricky to use.
Most people forget that a single Senzu Bean keeps a person full for ten days. For a Saiyan with a bottomless stomach, eating multiple beans might be fine. But for Lisette, one bean was a full meal. Eating two or three in a single day would be a recipe for extreme nausea and physical discomfort—hardly ideal for a high-speed battle.
She had planned to save them for a true crisis, but she had misjudged the toll of using 80x Burst Limit. She had seen Goku push his limits and keep fighting, but she had to remind herself: Goku is a Saiyan. She was a human base with an immortal soul, but her physical durability was nowhere near his.
For now, all she could do was lie on the ground, sense the energies around her, and think.
(What happened after I passed out? I remember defeating Cooler... but how did I end up in this cave? Someone even laid a coat down for me to sleep on...)
There were no peaceful Namekians left on the planet. It was only her allies and the monsters. She checked her "Far-Sight." Goku was still unconscious. Turles was down. Vegeta had reached a power level of 3,000,000, but it hadn't changed a thing—Frieza was currently using him as a living punching bag.
Ironically, Frieza's sadistic habit of playing with his food was the only thing keeping the Z-Fighters alive. It was buying them time.
(I need to wake Goku up.)
Even without her physical strength, she could still use Telepathy. She focused her mind on the sleeping Goku, calling out to his subconscious.
If Frieza got bored and decided to blow up the planet, they were all dead. Lisette might survive the vacuum of space because of her immortality, but the explosion itself would likely kill her in her current weakened state.
Only the protagonist could change the tide now.
Meanwhile, Lord Slug had finally reached Frieza's location. He had demanded the Dragon Balls, only to be swatted aside instantly.
(Wait, he's turning giant... his power is surging... and... no, never mind. Frieza beat him in one hit anyway.)
Even in his giant form, Slug's power only reached about 4,000,000. Against Frieza's Final Form, he was just a larger target. He had arrived at the worst possible time.
(Wait... wait a minute. I can use him.)
Lisette realized something. Slug was a Super Namekian. Which meant... he was capable of Assimilation.
If Piccolo fused with him, it could be the key to matching Frieza. It was a cold, pragmatic move—which was why she had previously refused to let Nail join the fight. She didn't want a good man to disappear. But Lord Slug? He was a monster.
Lisette was kind enough to spare the innocent, but she was rational enough to sacrifice a villain for the greater good.
***
Piccolo clenched his fists in silent fury. He hated his own weakness.
He had trained under Lisette. He had seen his potential unlocked by the Grand Elder. He thought he had reached the pinnacle. But standing before Frieza, he was paralyzed. He couldn't even bring himself to move. He watched Vegeta being tortured and knew that any move he made would end with him in the same position—or dead.
Then, a voice echoed in his mind.
(Piccolo... can you hear me?)
(Lisette?! Where the hell are you?!)
(I pushed myself too far against Cooler. I can't move for a while.)
(What?!) Piccolo snarled. (If you stay out of the fight, Frieza is going to kill us all and blow this rock to hell!)
(I have a plan. But you have to buy us time. Piccolo... you need to assimilate with Slug.)
Piccolo winced at the word. "Assimilation" to him meant merging back with the nameless Namekian he used to be—losing his identity to become "one" again. He despised the idea.
(I want to stay as I am. I'm not losing my personality to some old freak.)
(If you are the base, you stay in control. He will simply be the catalyst for your evolution.)
(...You're sure? If I feel him trying to take over, I'm spitting him out.)
(I promise.)
Piccolo looked at the broken body of Lord Slug nearby. He didn't have the "gentle" heart to ask for permission. He knelt over the fallen demon and placed a hand on his chest.
"Listen, old man. You came for the Dragon Balls, which makes you my enemy. I could kill you right now."
"W-Wait...!" Slug wheezed.
"I'll give you a choice. Assimilate with me. If we win, you get to live through me. If you refuse, I'll end you here."
"But...!"
"Don't worry. I don't want to stay merged with a piece of trash like you either. Once Frieza is dead, I'll find a way to separate us."
It was a lie—or at least, a half-truth. Piccolo was using intimidation to force cooperation. Lisette was impressed; Piccolo's pragmatism was far more effective than her own "kindness" would have been.
Slug, possessing the ability to read minds, sensed Piccolo's desperate need for power. He figured his only chance at survival was to agree, wait for an opening, and try to take over later.
"F-Fine... take my energy!"
Slug's body erupted in light, flowing into Piccolo's palm. The two merged.
But something went wrong. Piccolo had meant every word when he said he would cast Slug aside, but he hadn't accounted for the personality shift.
Piccolo was the reincarnation of the Great Demon King. Slug was a 100% pure-evil Super Namekian. When the two merged, the "good" that had been growing in Piccolo's heart was suddenly overwhelmed by a tidal wave of ancient malice.
Piccolo's face twisted into a cruel, jagged smirk. His eyes burned with the wild ambition of the Demon King Ma Junior.
"Heh... heh heh... Hahahahaha! Fool! Did you really think I'd keep my promise?"
The evil power surging through him was intoxicating. He felt as though he could conquer the stars. Slug was gone—his soul consumed to fuel Piccolo's evolution.
"I can feel it! The power of the Demon King has returned! I'll kill Frieza, then I'll kill Goku, and then I'll rule this miserable universe!"
He checked his power. It was incredible. It was enough.
"Mr. Piccolo...?"
A small, trembling voice broke through his megalomania.
Piccolo froze. He looked down and saw Gohan staring at him with wide, innocent eyes—eyes that still held trust, despite the terrifying aura Piccolo was radiating.
In an instant, a year of memories flooded back. The training in the wilderness. The conversations under the stars. The way Gohan looked up to him not as a monster, but as a mentor.
No matter how much evil he absorbed from Slug, Piccolo could never go back to being a pure demon. He had something the original Demon King never had: someone worth protecting.
The jagged lines on his face softened. The murderous glint in his eyes faded. He looked at his own hands and let out a self-deprecating sigh.
(I'm sorry, Father... It seems I can never be a true Demon King again.)
He placed a hand on Gohan's head. "It's okay, Gohan. I'm not going anywhere."
Evil or good, he was still Piccolo. World conquest and revenge could wait. Right now, there was a monster to kill.
Wreathed in a crimson aura, the newly evolved Piccolo charged toward Frieza. And at that exact moment, as if responding to Piccolo's battle cry, Goku opened his eyes.
The stage was set for the final act.
***
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