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Rustle, rustle...
On a cold and sparsely populated road, a figure was jumping rapidly. Each step propelled him forward by several meters, sometimes even dozens of meters.
It was Shallot, who had just finished cleaning the training room and was now heading home to rest.
On both sides of the road stood the houses of the Saiyans. However, most of them were busy on missions on other planets and only returned to Planet Salada occasionally to rest for a few days in their homes.
As a result, the streets were usually deserted.
Shallot's speed was astonishing, and his movements were incredibly agile, allowing him to jump easily from one rooftop to another while crossing the street with ease.
If he were still on Earth in his past life, passersby would stare in amazement at his agility.
But here, he was nothing more than a failure.
He could not even fly and was forced to move around on foot.
After jumping through the streets for more than five minutes, Shallot finally landed and stopped in front of a house.
It was an ordinary house, like those of low-level Saiyans with no achievements.
Shallot's house.
No, to be more precise, it was the house of the woman who had adopted him.
A friend of his mother, a very kind woman named Melia.
That woman was very different from the typical Saiyans he had encountered so far. Seeing that the lights were off, Shallot opened the door, entered, and turned on the lights.
Everything was exactly as it had been when he left that morning.
Shallot took some ingredients and quickly prepared a large meal.
After working, he was starving.
He devoured the food voraciously, completely clearing the table.
Even though he was only four years old, Shallot, like all Saiyans, had an insatiable appetite, especially after working or exercising. He needed to consume a large amount of food every day.
After finishing all the food on the table, Shallot patted his stomach, showing a hint of satisfaction.
After resting for a while, Shallot quickly cleaned the table and dishes and then headed outside again.
It was time to train.
Although he had no one to guide him, Shallot had an advantage that many Saiyans did not have.
He possessed the knowledge from his previous life.
He knew how Ki could be controlled and used more efficiently.
Moreover, his combat potential was not bad at all for a mid-level Saiyan.
During these days, he had made a discovery that made him anxious.
Just like in the original Dragon Ball story that he remembered, the Saiyan race had already sworn loyalty to a being from the same race as Frieza, named Arctic, serving under him.
If the fate of this world followed the same path as the original Dragon Ball story, it would not be long before this Arctic destroyed the Saiyan race and this planet.
Shallot did not know what kind of personality this Arctic had.
However, according to his instincts, the Frost Demon race could not be trusted.
A good example was Frost from Universe 6.
At first, he was presented as a hero who used his power to help war-torn regions, but it was later revealed that he himself orchestrated the conflicts in order to intervene later and gain popularity.
Shallot had no intention of waiting for death along with everyone else on this planet.
He had to become as strong as possible and escape from this planet if Arctic ever decided to destroy it.
After regulating his breathing, Shallot began his training.
One-handed push-ups: 5,000 repetitions for each hand!
Sit-ups: 5,000 repetitions!
Jump squats: 5,000 repetitions!
Punches: 10,000 punches!
Shallot did not know any martial arts or combat techniques, and no one on this planet was willing to teach him.
Therefore, he trained his body in the most basic ways.
After three hours of training, Shallot was drenched in sweat, lying on the ground and gasping for breath.
Even though he had Saiyan blood, he was only four years old, and this level of training was exhausting.
He could push himself further, but if he trained too much and could not work or arrived late the next day, he would run into serious problems.
Shallot placed a scouter on his head and pressed the switch.
The numbers on the scouter flickered before finally displaying a result.
105
This meant that Shallot's current combat power was 105.
Do not underestimate this level of combat power.
In the original Dragon Ball story, Son Goku at the age of 12 or 13 had a combat power of only 10, yet he was already a skilled martial artist who was practically untouchable by ordinary people.
If a planet like Earth existed in this universe, Shallot could easily prosper with a combat power of 105 and live comfortably.
Unfortunately, he still did not know whether a planet like Earth existed in this universe where he had been reincarnated.
He was currently on the Saiyans' home planet, Salada.
Without proper guidance on how to handle Ki, and even without anyone helping him, his combat power had increased by 70 units.
Based on what he had figured out by himself using his memories, he could also control his visible power level to around 65 units, the amount that would appear on a scouter.
Sighing deeply, Shallot quickly changed his mood.
He knew that if he wanted to survive—and eventually escape—he would have to rely on his intelligence.
Combat power could only serve as support.
After removing the scouter, Shallot returned home, took a shower, and threw himself onto the bed.
With constant work every day and training immediately afterward, both his body and mind were exhausted.
Almost instantly, Shallot lay down and fell into a deep sleep.
The night passed without incident.
The next day—
"Wah! Wah! Wah!"
The loud cries of babies echoed endlessly through the room, testing his nerves.
Inside a spacious room, many newborn babies were being transported by machines.
As if announcing their arrival into the world, the newborns cried loudly.
Some of the more energetic ones even crawled or rolled on the conveyor belt.
None of them were quiet.
Although Shallot was used to this scene, he could not help but feel emotional every time he saw it.
They were all children of the Saiyans.
Yet they were treated like merchandise.
"Shallot! Take these noisy brats to the advanced medical incubation capsule room, and hurry up!"
A Saiyan, irritated by the noise, kicked a baby that had fallen off the conveyor, sending it back onto the machine while shouting at Shallot.
Without saying anything, Shallot began taking the newborns one by one from the conveyor belt, washing them and placing them into the incubation capsules according to their identification numbers.
Since Shallot was still small, he often had to jump and stretch to reach many places.
Furthermore, most Saiyan babies were very lively, even when being held. They clawed and pulled, making Shallot's task even more difficult.
"These are the last two for today..."
Looking at the final two newborns delivered by the machine, the exhausted Shallot let out a sigh of relief.
They were two baby girls, chubby and cute, with the characteristic Saiyan tails.
Unlike the other restless newborns, these two were quiet and had even fallen asleep on the conveyor belt.
Shallot could not help but smile.
He picked them up, washed them, and carried them to the incubation capsules according to their identification numbers.
"Number 75, daughter of the low-class warrior Paragus, Roka."
"Number 76, daughter of the low-class warrior Bardock, Savoy."
After placing the two babies in their respective capsules, Shallot clapped his hands, convinced that the work was finished, and turned to leave.
But after taking two steps, Shallot suddenly froze.
"Daughter of Paragus… Roka…"
"Daughter of Bardock… Savoy…"
"Could it be…?"
A flash of lightning crossed his mind.
At that moment, Shallot felt completely overwhelmed…