Under the turquoise sky of Planet Sadala, where the clouds seemed to dance to the rhythm of an invisible drum, Okarin—the Great Sage—walked leisurely down a dusty path. His jet-black mane flowed like a banner of chaos, and his deep eyes gleamed with a mix of arrogance and boredom.
Beside him, Caulifla marched with arms crossed, still fuming from the argument by the lake. Kale, shy as ever, followed a few steps behind, nervously glancing between Okarin and Caulifla. Cabba, who had arrived a little later, the most serious of the group, brought up the rear, adjusting his armor with a resigned sigh.
"You know, Fierce Beast," Okarin began, wearing that unreadable expression that made it impossible to tell whether he was serious or about to say something absurd. "The universe is like a bowl of soup: it looks simple, but if you don't stir it, all the ingredients sink to the bottom and everything tastes like nothing."
Caulifla shot him a sideways glare, her frown so deep it looked like she'd dig a crater into her own forehead. "What the hell are you talking about now, Stone Face?! Speak clearly or I swear I'll launch you into the next star system!"
Kale let out a quiet "Eep!" and ducked further behind Cabba, who raised a calming hand. "Caulifla, please, don't fall for his provocations. Okarin's just… being Okarin."
"That's not an excuse!" Caulifla growled, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "He's been spouting nonsense all day! First the tree, now the soup… what's next? A lecture on how to breathe properly?"
Okarin stopped in front of a food stall along the path, where an old Saiyan was roasting meat from some giant beast over a fire. The smell was so tempting even Caulifla paused her yelling for a moment. Okarin turned to her, raising one finger as if about to reveal a universal truth.
"First, my name is Okarin—the Sage who brings light to even the darkest shadows. Second, never underestimate the power of a good metaphor. And third…" He paused, inhaling deeply with a look of bliss. "This smells freaking amazing—especially that wonderful spicy sauce!"
The old man behind the stall let out a laugh, revealing a mouth full of gaps. "Haha! I like this guy. Want a piece of meat, young sage?"
Okarin smiled and gave a slight bow, as if accepting an imperial tribute. "Elder, your generosity is a beacon in the storm. I'll take two portions—one for me and one for the Fierce Beast, who needs fuel to keep yelling at me."
Caulifla crossed her arms and scoffed. "I don't need your charity, idiot. I can buy my own food!"
Kale, still hiding behind Cabba, murmured shyly, "B-But… it smells really good… right, Cabba?"
Cabba sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, Kale, it does smell good. But don't let Okarin fool you. Last time we ate with him, he made us wash the dishes because he said 'cleaning is the first step toward enlightenment.'"
Okarin turned to Cabba with a hand over his chest, as if gravely wounded. "Little Soldier, how dare you tarnish my noble reputation? Dishwashing is a martial art—a dance with water and soap. You should thank me for teaching you the way of the domestic warrior!"
Caulifla couldn't hold it in anymore and burst into a sarcastic laugh. "Ha! Domestic warrior? The only thing you do is talk crap and dodge my punches! If you really want to be useful, fight me already and stop hiding behind your dumb catchphrases."
Okarin looked at her with that infuriating calm, his black eyes gleaming as if pondering the secrets of the universe. "Fierce Beast, the true battle is not fought with fists, but with the heart. But if you insist…" He leaned toward her slightly, lowering his voice. "How about a bet? If you can land a hit on me in a sparring match, I'll give you my portion of meat. If not, you'll have to admit I'm the greatest Saiyan in Sadala."
Caulifla grinned, her eyes burning with wild fire. "You're on, Stone Face! Get ready to eat dirt."
Kale, anxious, raised a hand. "S-Sister Caulifla, I don't think this is a good idea! Okarin is… is… really weird!"
Cabba placed a hand on Kale's shoulder with a weak smile. "Let them be, Kale. This is what happens when you put a beast and a lunatic together. I just hope they don't destroy half of Sadala this time."
.
.
.
The group moved to a nearby clearing, the ground already marked with craters from past fights. Local Saiyans, always eager for a good show, began gathering around—some eating meat from the old man's stall, others placing bets on how long Okarin would last before Caulifla sent him flying.
Okarin stood in the center of the clearing, hands in the pockets of his robe, his mane fluttering in the wind. "Fierce Beast, let the dance of titans begin. But beware—my steps are like the wind: unpredictable and eternal."
Caulifla got into fighting stance, her fists glowing with a spark of ki. "Shut up and fight, idiot!" she roared, charging in with a punch that shook the air.
Okarin dodged with an almost lazy motion, spinning like he was on a fashion runway. "Too slow. Your fist is like a comet: bright, but it never hits the mark."
Caulifla growled, unleashing a flurry of strikes that could've shattered a mountain. But Okarin, true to his shameless style, kept dodging with grace that defied physics. Each move came with another ridiculous comment.
"Stellar Tiger Fist!" he cried, blocking a blow with one finger like a kung-fu master from a cheap movie.
"Dancing Dragon Kick!" he shouted, flipping backward to avoid a blast of ki.
From a distance, Kale watched with wide eyes, hands pressed to her chest. "H-He's so… fast…" she murmured, as Cabba shook his head.
"That guy's not fast, he's ridiculous," Cabba muttered, crossing his arms. "But I've got to admit, he's talented. Not that I'd ever say it out loud."
The fight continued, Caulifla's attacks growing fiercer while Okarin dodged with a blend of skill and sheer nerve. The crowd cheered, some shouting "Smash that smug jerk!" and others "Go, Sage! Show her who's boss!"
But amid the chaos, something changed.
A cold wind swept through the clearing, and for a moment, Okarin felt a chill that had nothing to do with the fight. His eyes narrowed, and the Transmigration System beeped in his mind.
[System: Alert! Anomalous energy detected nearby. Unknown origin. Caution advised.]
Okarin dodged one last punch and raised a hand to halt the match. "Wait, Fierce Beast. Something's not right."
Caulifla, panting, eyed him with suspicion. "What? Are you making excuses to stop fighting now? Coward!"
But before Okarin could respond with another philosophical jab, the ground trembled slightly. The crowd fell silent, a nervous murmur spreading. On the horizon, a strange light—like a purple lightning bolt—flashed across Sadala's sky.
Kale rushed to Caulifla, grabbing her arm. "S-Sister… what was that?"
Cabba's brow furrowed, his warrior instincts on high alert. "I don't know… but I don't like it. Okarin, do you have any idea?"
For once, Okarin didn't reply with a joke. His black eyes scanned the horizon, and a dangerous smile spread across his face.
"Maybe the universe has finally decided it's time to test the Great Sage… with something more interesting."