"Maybe he'll surprise us," Ken said, unconcerned.
Who knew Goku's ceiling better than Ken did?
Goku's "level" still wasn't even at 1 right now—but Ken believed that in the coming year his power would jump by orders of magnitude.
…Still under 1, though.
Universe 7 — a remote planet.
"Prince Vegeta, are we really going to Earth?" Nappa asked, uneasy. "That legendary Super Saiyan is on Earth!"
"Hmph. What's there to fear?" Vegeta snorted.
Nappa fell silent.
How am I supposed to not be afraid?
Did you already forget the day Broly rubbed your face into the ground?
He kept that to himself.
"Ken said it himself: he and Broly won't intervene," Vegeta said coldly.
"And if they do…?" Nappa ventured.
"Enough chatter!" Vegeta snapped. "We're leaving for Earth now. No more hesitation. I'm going to grind Kakarot into the dirt."
He strode into his spherical pod. Reluctant or not, Nappa followed.
Two pods tore through the atmosphere and streaked into space toward Earth.
Universe 6 — Earth.
A high valley of clear water and sheer stone where Piccolo made his home.
Piccolo descended with Gohan tucked under his arm and dropped lightly into a pristine spring.
"Wake up, Son Goku's brat," he said, holding Gohan up by the scruff.
Gohan slept like a log—snoring, even.
"Tch." Piccolo tossed him into the water.
Gohan gulped several mouthfuls and burst up coughing, blinking in confusion.
How did I end up in the water?
"I've got things to tell you. Out," Piccolo said, face like stone.
"Huh?" Gohan froze, then saw the terrifying green face and went white. "W-Who are you? Where's my dad?"
Thinking of his father, he spun about, frantic—and then the tears came.
"You're noisy," Piccolo muttered, hauling him onto the bank.
Gohan wept harder, tears mixing with springwater on his cheeks.
"Enough. Cry again and I'll twist your neck off," Piccolo said.
Gohan quailed, lower lip trembling, rubbing his eyes.
"Listen up," Piccolo went on. "Your father's alive, but he can't babysit. He's going to train."
"My d-dad doesn't want me anymore…?" Gohan sobbed.
"Keep that up and I really will twist your neck," Piccolo barked.
The boy clamped down on the crying, shaking and helpless.
"In about ten months, two more Saiyans stronger than your uncle will arrive on Earth," Piccolo said, voice low. "I'm going to make a warrior out of you. Don't you want to protect the planet you love? Your father will fight the stronger one. That leaves the other for us. We need your power."
"Me? I—I've never even been in a fight," Gohan said, crushed.
"You don't realize it yet, but you've got tremendous power. Training will bring it out," Piccolo said.
"You're lying. I don't have any power," Gohan sniffled, shaking his head.
"Then see for yourself." Piccolo grabbed him by the head.
"W-What are you doing?" Gohan yelped.
Piccolo heaved and flung him at a mountain in the distance.
Let me see it—your latent power. You ought to be able to smash rock.
If you die, that's on you.
I agreed to raise you, but I'm the Great Demon King—my student won't be pampered.
As the cliff rushed up, terror jolted Gohan's body—and his hidden power exploded. A spherical aura bloomed around him and, in a flash, he fired a massive ki blast straight into the mountainside.
The earth thundered. Stone shattered skyward; dust roared like a sandstorm.
When the air cleared, the mountain was gone, a deep gouge carved across the land.
Piccolo stared, shocked dumb for a long beat.
More than I thought…
I'm training a monster.
He steadied himself and walked over.
"D-Did I do that?" Gohan whispered, staring at the ruined ridge.
"Now you see it," Piccolo said. "You only trigger it when your emotions spike—one burst, then gone. That won't win a fight. I'll teach you how to battle and make that power answer you."
"But I don't want to be a martial artist. I want to be a great scholar," Gohan said softly.
"That's fine—after we beat those two Saiyans," Piccolo said, a weight coming off his chest.
Thank goodness. With talent like his, and he wants books.
At least he won't become my enemy.
"I'm… I'm scared of fighting," Gohan admitted.
"Stop sniveling. Want me to kill you now?" Piccolo barked. "No time. Training starts—take off the top."
Gohan hastily slipped off his jacket, folded it neatly, and set it on the grass.
Piccolo stared.
He folded his jacket?
"Training how?" Gohan peeped.
"First lesson: survive," Piccolo said, smiling a devil's smile.
"Survive…?"
"Alone. Here. Six months," Piccolo said. "Live that long, and I'll teach you to fight."
"S-Six months? By myself? No way! I'll go crazy!"
"You won't be lonely," Piccolo said coolly. "Plenty of man-eating beasts in this area."
"Please don't leave me here!" Gohan cried.
"I won't coddle you. Six months—survive it, mind and body, and you'll be worth forging," Piccolo said. "Believe in yourself and learn to use your power."
"But… but I…" Tears welled again.
"And don't try to run," Piccolo added. "This place is ringed by endless desert. If the sands swallow you, I'll watch you drown in grit."
"W-What about food? A bath? A bed? Toothbrush?" Gohan asked, panicked.
"Do I look like your housekeeper?" Piccolo snorted.
Gohan was speechless.
"This is cruel… I'm only four," he whispered, crying anew.
"Blame fate," Piccolo said, then shot into the sky and vanished.
Gohan chased, bawling, but couldn't fly fast enough. He ended up alone on a rocky ledge, sobbing until he was hoarse.
When he finally looked up, he found himself eye to eye with a hungry dinosaur—six meters of teeth and hunger blotting out the moonlight.
Delivery's here, the beast seemed to think.
Right on time.
It lunged. Gohan scrambled, slipped, tumbled—then, at the last second, blasted upward, landing on a cliff. The dinosaur chewed empty air, confused, and stomped away to search again.
On the high ledge, Gohan panted, shaking with leftover fear—then circled the rim and realized he couldn't climb down.
Cue more tears.
Night deepened. A full moon rose, cold and silver.
Wind cut across the cliff. Gohan curled into a ball, teeth chattering.
"I'm so hungry… I'm gonna starve," he murmured.
Thunk. Thunk.
Two apples fell beside him.
"Apples!" He grabbed one, paused. There aren't any apple trees up here…
Newton must be looking out for me.
He bit. His face puckered—sour, tannic, awful.
"Gross… I want meat," he mumbled, crying as he ate, pretending the apple was a steamed bun.
"That brat's impossible," Piccolo grumbled from far above, teeth set. He sighed. "Fine. Once."
The night wore on, stars bright as frost. The round moon shone down like a silver coin.
Gohan sneezed, shuffled to the cliff edge to pee, then gazed around.
"Why is it so bright at night?" He turned—and saw the full moon.
"Wow… so round," he breathed, staring.
His heart hammered. His pupils glazed white. Power crawled over his skin.
"What now?" Piccolo blinked.
Gohan screamed—and swelled, bones cracking and muscles bulging, into a black-furred Great Ape. The ledge collapsed under his weight.
He landed with a quake, roared, and smashed a cliff with one punch. Golden blasts poured from his mouth, detonating across the plain. Shockwaves sent Piccolo tumbling in the air.
If he keeps this up, those two Saiyans won't need to come—he'll raze Earth by himself!
Piccolo remembered Raditz's words: a full moon is when Saiyans show their true power.
He looked up, eyes narrowing—then fired.
The moon shattered. The night turned star-cold and dark.
All over Earth, couples gasped as the sky went odd.
"You don't love me anymore, so even the moon left," one girl huffed.
Her boyfriend had no comeback.
Gohan's massive form sagged, shrinking back to a sleeping child who face-planted in the dust.
Piccolo wiped cold sweat from his neck and descended.
"So you do transform—Saiyan blood, then," he muttered. "Now I know Goku's secret. Good thing I 'sent the moon away.' With monsters like that, anyone would shake."
He eyed the tail. "And Raditz mentioned tails…"
Piccolo yanked. The tail came off in his hand.
"That's better. No more trigger—and a Saiyan's weak point gone," he said. Ki flickered at his fingertip and washed over the boy, clothing him in a fresh orange gi with a bold 魔 on the back.
"That mark pops, doesn't it?" Piccolo smirked. "I'll train too. Can't rely on Ken for everything. He promised to make me stronger, but I'll grind it out myself. If you're alive in six months, Son Gohan… we start hell training. You'll beg for death."
He grinned wider. "I'll make an exemplary demon out of you."
Capsule Corporation.
"What? You want me to call Goku's wife?" Krillin groaned. "Why me?"
"Who else?" Bulma planted her hands on her hips. "You're his best friend."
"…Right," Krillin sighed. "What am I supposed to say—Ken took Goku, and Piccolo took Gohan?"
"Say whatever gets the message across," Bulma huffed and stalked off.
Master Roshi patted Krillin's smooth dome. "You've got this."
"Easy for you to say, Master. My back hurts just listening to you," Krillin muttered.
"My back hurts from… extracurriculars," Roshi sighed theatrically.
Krillin stared.
Yamcha sidled up. "I can do it, but next time you two go out, take me along."
"Sure," Yamcha chuckled. "But when the girls ask why you don't have a nose—what's your answer?"
Roshi grinned. "No nose, no problem. Any smell? Doesn't matter."
"Master, that's—profound," Yamcha said, awed.
"What smell?" Krillin blinked, lost.
Universe 7— deep space.
Ken and Broly carved a gleaming line through the stars.
Hours later, they hung above Planet Vampa.
"Twenty-six years! Twenty-six years stranded!" Paragus howled to the empty wastes.
Broly said nothing.
"He keeps count well," Ken murmured. "On a world that barely sees a sun."
"He's wearing a scouter," Amarella said from Ken's side. "It can track elapsed days. And for the record, Planet Vegeta's orbit and rotation were close to Earth's—about a twenty-four-hour day."
"No need for the lecture," Ken said dryly.
Broly stared down at his father, and whatever longing had once burned there had cooled.
"Go," Ken said, touching his shoulder. "Say your piece."
Broly nodded and dropped toward the ocher ground. Ken stayed aloft, watching from the silence of space.
Paragus had just run out of curses when a figure floated down and landed before him. He stiffened, wary.
"Who are you?" he demanded, stepping back.
"Father. It's me—Broly," Broly said evenly.
"Broly? You're Broly?" Paragus peered hard—and recognition cracked his face wide open.
"Broly! You're alive!" He crushed his son in an embrace. On this desolate rock, he had lived worse than dead; another living voice felt like salvation.
"Where have you been all these years?" he asked, voice shaking.
"I became a god," Broly said.
Paragus stared. "Come again?"
"I've become a God of Destruction," Broly said, plain as air.
"A… what?" Paragus blinked harder.
"One of the most powerful gods in a universe," Broly replied.
Paragus's white mustache trembled. He noticed something else—the collar and leash were gone from Broly's neck. His eyes narrowed. "And that thing I put on you—?"
"I took it off," Broly said, rubbing his neck. "You put it on me to control me, didn't you?"
Paragus's eyes flicked, guilt flashing. Words stuck in his throat.
"You're my father. I can let the past go—but don't do that to me again," Broly said, calm but unyielding.
"What are you babbling about?" Paragus's face hardened.
"I'd like you to apologize," Broly said, stubborn as stone. "Do that, and I'll let it go."
"Apologize? To my own son?" Paragus snapped. Years of bitterness had twisted him; pride dug in its claws. "Forget it! You want the old man to bow to you? Dream on!"
Broly fell silent, weighing something heavy.
"You think you grew up without me? I kept you alive out here!" Paragus ranted, voice fraying.
"I'm sorry, Father," Broly said at last. "If you won't apologize, then you can stay here and think it over. I'll come visit."
He rose into the air.
"Where are you going? Get back here!" Paragus shouted, stumbling after him. "Stop! Any higher and you'll hit space! You trying to kill yourself?"
(End of Chapter)
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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