Morning on Planet Vegeta lay under a dull gray metallic haze.
Vitli stepped out, carrying a small bag—two clean spare battle suits inside.
He glanced back at the gravity room in his yard, its tough silver shell shining coldly in the weak light. A touch of regret slipped through him.
"If only I could pack it into a Capsule…," he sighed silently.
Too bad Planet Vegeta didn't have that kind of space-compression tech.
Still, Bulma's family on Earth could build a three-hundred-times gravity room.
This loss was nothing.
He turned away and flew toward the spaceport, ki steady and calm.
At Dock Three, a large disk-shaped ship prepared for the mission waited.
Raditz was quietly talking with a Frieza Force officer, showing a tablet with projected planet data. Vitli landed without a sound, standing aside and listening.
"Planet Sofu is a mid-class world dominated by a technological civilization," the officer said flatly. "Their main resistance is automated defense systems and combat robots. Recon indicates the strongest robot is around five thousand battle power—not difficult for your squad."
He added, "Also, there will be a full moon due to stable satellite orbit. If needed, you can transform into Great Apes to flip the battle. This planet was selected carefully. It shouldn't produce surprises."
Vitli nodded internally.
Robots meant predictable fighting—mostly energy output and physical destruction. Good for real combat practice for someone who now understood ki and had explosive speed and strength.
He was already planning:
Trash the robots quickly, rush the central core, and unleash around thirty thousand power to fake a mutual-destruction death scene. If needed, cut off his tail and leave it somewhere obvious so Vegeta would believe he died.
Perfect.
Just then, urgent footsteps in the air.
A bruised, limping Nappa arrived, carefully escorting a tiny figure—Vegeta.
The prince's battle suit looked freshly polished. His chin was lifted high, performing his best "ruler of all" vibe.
He spotted Vitli instantly. Fire burst into his eyes—war intent mixed with smugness, like he'd cracked Vitli's secret.
"Hey! Vitli!"
Vegeta marched up, voice loud with provocation.
"You think your secret can stay hidden? That gravity room! That's how you got strong, isn't it?!"
Vitli only looked at him calmly, faint amusement on his face, neither admitting nor denying. That calmness irritated Vegeta instantly.
"No answer? So you admit it."
Vegeta stepped closer, almost chest-to-chest, eyes sharp.
"Listen up! I'm not the Vegeta from a month ago who you caught off guard!"
He clenched his fist. A powerful, savage aura erupted—still childish, but far beyond normal Saiyans.
"My battle power… has broken twenty thousand!"
He raised his thumb proudly, then jabbed it at himself.
"You used external tricks like a gravity room. You've already hit the limit of an ordinary Saiyan! Now you're nothing but a bug I can crush anytime. Got it?!"
Vitli felt nothing.
Twenty thousand was fast. Vegeta really was a prodigy.
But he was still green.
In control, in instinct, in knowing what real combat meant—too far behind.
Vitli didn't want a scene before departure.
While Vegeta was still rambling—
Chop.
Vitli moved like lightning and struck the back of Vegeta's neck with a perfectly controlled palm.
Enough to shut him down. Not enough to hurt him.
Vegeta's smug face froze. His eyes went wide.
"Uh…"
He rolled his eyes and collapsed.
"Prince Vegeta!!" Nappa and Raditz screamed together, horrified.
"You bastard! Are you insane?!" Raditz shrieked, finger shaking.
Nappa tensed, ready to lunge—but fear crawled in his eyes.
Vitli held Vegeta by the back of the armor like a chicken, eyes ice-cold as he stared at them.
His voice was quiet, absolute.
"Too much talking. We're leaving."
He walked to the ship.
Nappa opened his mouth to argue.
Vitli paused, glanced back.
Pressure fell like a mountain.
"Do you want to die?"
Nappa's whole body shook. Sweat poured down his face. Every word died in his throat.
He believed Vitli would snap his neck without hesitation.
He lowered his head, swallowing humiliation.
Raditz nearly wet himself.
So, under a bizarre, suffocating silence, all four—including the unconscious Vegeta—boarded the disk ship.
The hatch sealed. Engines hummed. The ship rose, tore through Planet Vegeta's gray atmosphere, and shot into the endless stars.
Inside, Vitli dumped Vegeta into a sleep pod and set the wake time to twenty-four hours before arrival.
He then went to a secluded corner and climbed into his own pod.
He ignored Raditz and Nappa's complicated expressions.
The hum of the sleep system rose.
The two guards exchanged weary looks and crawled into their pods too.
Cold sleep fluid flowed in.
Their minds drifted toward darkness.
A six-month voyage began.
Destination: Planet Sofu.
Far in the North Galaxy, inside Frieza Force headquarters—
A steel fortress floating amid brilliant nebulae, lavish and freezing.
Frieza lounged in his baby-carriage-like hover chair, slender fingers tapping lightly, smiling as he listened to a report.
A small alien knelt before him.
"Lord Frieza, Prince Vegeta has departed for Planet Sofu with three Saiyan upper-class guards to carry out their first conquest mission."
"Oh ho ho ho…"
Frieza chuckled, red eyes gleaming.
"Our little Prince Vegeta is finally old enough to see the world. How exciting."
He looked to his two confidants beside him—tall blue-skinned Zarbon and fat pink-skinned Dodoria.
"Zarbon, Dodoria…"
His voice was lazy, like a cat toying with mice.
"As a kind ruler, shouldn't I send someone to guide this inexperienced Saiyan prince? War is dangerous, after all. If King Vegeta's precious only son were to… perish by accident, wouldn't that be such a pity? Hee hee hee…"
Zarbon stepped forward instantly, smiling.
"An excellent idea, Lord Frieza. Prince Vegeta is young and lacks experience. We all serve you. Sending a veteran to assist and 'educate' him is the perfect show of your benevolence."
Dodoria thumped his belly and echoed loudly.
"Zarbon's right! We'll do whatever you say. Just give the order!"
Frieza nodded in satisfaction.
His eyes drifted between them… then settled on Dodoria.
He smiled sweetly.
"Then I'll trouble you, Dodoria. A quick trip."
He leaned on the word "trouble," a hint of cruelty in it.
"Teaching young ones sometimes requires… a bit of severity."
He added lightly—yet dripping with blood:
"Be strict. Let them understand the cruelty of the universe… and the gap in power. But…"
Frieza's smile widened.
"Try to leave Vegeta alive. As for the others… hee hee, don't kill all of them. Someone should survive to give our prince a real taste of the battlefield… and to tell King Vegeta all about his son's 'wonderful' training. Right, Dodoria?"
Dodoria dropped to one knee, head low, grinning viciously.
"Yes, Lord Frieza! I understand. I'll make sure the prince and his guards learn a lesson they'll never forget."
Frieza waved him away.
Dodoria rose, a hungry gleam in his eyes, and strode out to prepare.
Frieza reclined comfortably, eyes half-closed.
In the clean window beside him, his reflection smiled back—innocent and monstrous at once.