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The bald Saiyan

0 = 1. Seems insane, and many mathematical professors would strange the student for claiming such a fact, yet it is a reality out MC has had to deal with for a "long time" now. Finally, by forces unseen, he awakes, in a body familiar to him, yet not and a power known to him yet strange in many ways. Feeling sensations again, emotions thumping in him, yet detached from it all is he. Memories clash as he tries to mend them, succeeds in a way, in devouring, not joining. Unknown is the future, maybe death will claim him once more, bring him to the doorstep of nothing, or he will fight it out, become "something" yet again. Fate is a fickle thing, so are human hearts, one can only hope they turn in one's favour.

The_Zombie_Lad · Anime & Comics
Not enough ratings
16 Chs

And I knew there was no turning back

"Yes. That will do." The first words spoken were cruel, cold, callous, like the devil himself had said them, and Nappa agreed.

Creatures who would rather take their opponent down with them, not even attempting to live, rather gleaming a sadistic joy from another's downfall. The abominable pleasure of another's destruction overriding one's desire for life is horrific, only creatures born from nightmares could act in such away.

Nappa had experienced something like this, once, back before nothingness took away his sleep, the nightmares, and the dreams with it, it was an experience unforgettable, envious even, in a way.

Such single-minded drive, needing for nothing more than the destruction of another, is a life of no inside thought, the only focus, commitment, no outside thought to ponder, just action.

And he must admit, he felt something like, differently yes, but in a way similar too. To see an enemy crushed like that, even if not by his hand, even if the outcome was already determined, it felt good, cathartic.

Even if it meant sacrificing one's own to achieve it.

Flames of desire stoked once more, suppressed, of course, he only observed with more rapid attention to the corpse of the disposable, the half-man having run over to him by now.

"Oi, get rid of that trash. It is polluting the place." Words vicious and viperous, the prince looked disinterested, even if Nappa could spot a glint of pleasure in his eye, a sadistic glint of seeing the despair on his opponent's face reimbursing the amusement which was gone after the disposable one's downfall.

"You..." The half-man stood up, which is not saying much when you see his size, glaring daggers at the two of them. "Yamcha, he knew something bad was coming, he got here instead of me, you..."

He got into a pose, veins on his bald head thumping with aggression, Nappa could feel the familiar new energy gathering around him, he doesn't need help to see what is an attack about to commence.

"Stand back everyone, I will show them what I have trained for!" He shouted, his group taking a step back, yet the prince, the prince for the first time since he had touched down on this planet looked interested, even if just so very slightly, in something.

Amused and interested that is.

He stood at a pose, arms outstretched behind his head, one parallel to the other, concentration evident on his face as he struggled, sweat pouring down the side of his head, soon his arms began to shake too, the exertion tremendous and noticeable.

Sparks began to fly, energy crackled and gathered between open palms, yellow and quick, slowly molding into a ball-like shape, before it was brought, carefully and with much focus to boot, to his chest.

"Take this!" The yell was accompanied by the blast from the ball-like shape, it moved slowly, incredibly so, with a whole tail of energy behind it linking it back to the child-man.

'F = m x V if the ball of energy doesn't have speed then it must have mass, and pressure.' His brain calculated it fast, thinking back to the physics classes of high school. Every attack in this series, and so far, has been fast and relentless, for this to be his special move, and be so slow, then the mass and pressure must be greatly enhanced.

It looked dangerous, from this perspective, from the perspective of a normal man, it looked awing and terrifying, with the energy surrounding and sparking like that, it looks fearful, destructive.

Yet he felt no fear, no, if anything he felt calm and reassured. His body, his emotions, they told him not to move, his muscles screamed for him to take the move head-on, his bones dug into the ground, his breathing evened out as he stared directly at the approaching beam of energy.

Despite his logical mind rebelling slightly, he still followed suit, no damage will truly come from this attack, and he could feel something more, something deeper at stake here, something emotional, than just mere physical hurt.

Just when it was about to hit them, he could feel the air displace from the movement, it jumped upwards. At the corner of his eyes, he could see the child-man control of the beam with the movements of his arms, waving them around with shaky moves, it seems to be quite the taxing move for the half-man.

He observed how it soared, it flew up and up into the sky, reaching its zenith at an undetermined height, before descending onto them with much greater speed, aided by gravity.

Midair, about at the halfway point from them, the one beam split into five, all of them now traveling even faster, their paths already determined, pursing the pray that attempted to flee with great gusto.

The Saibamen fleed with reckless abandon, hoping to save their chitinous skins by any means necessary, yet the yellow beam, like hellhounds of war, pursued them wherever they went, a straight line they carved thru the air in pursuit of their targets.

Only one managed to survive, and even that was achieved only because there is a conveniently close cave opening, hiding inside of it as the beam struck the ground near it, lacking the penetrative power needed to pierce the rocky outcropping.

As for the prince and Nappa, a full-beam hit them both, noticeably wider more powerful than the other four used to destroy the Saibamen.

This one surely would have killed the hiding Saibaman if it was aimed at him.

'Am I, disappointed?' Nappa asked himself, almost raising an eyebrow at his question. No, he is not, the emotions, the body, they are disappointed.

Nappa's memory is disappointed, disappointed at there being no challenge in this fight, for if this is the opponent's strongest attack then truly, they are pathetic, unable to even scratch his battle armor.

His body barely felt the tickle of energy that surrounded him, not even piercing his skin properly, it felt more like a warm splash of water. All it accomplished is blind his eyes and raise some dust, blocking his nose from smelling.

Yet even that was counteracted by an instinctual use of Ki, with the energy blocking any dust from entering any of his cavities.

Truly, the attack achieved nothing and served no purpose.

Everyone cheered marry for the child-man, he could hear it from behind the dust, his attack in their minds seemingly achieving their goal, or at least wounding the Saiyans, in such a situation they were tense yet distracted.

A distraction such as this is an opportunity that cannot be missed and recognizing that opening for what it is the Saibaman chose this as his most opportune moment of attack.

Choosing the youngest and weakest looking member of the group its eyes narrowed dangerously, he ambushed the monkey's progeny the moment he turned his back on him, staring amazedly at the dust-covered crater.

Hopes and dreams, if those concepts can even be applied to such a creature, flashed before its eyes as it neared its pray, death is but a small sacrifice to make. It will die anyway, so why not take the pleasure of taking another being with it too along the way?

Yet it could not so much as touch the hem of the target's shirt before exploding into green chunks, viscous blood dispersing in the air, the much larger green's hand disappearing for a brief moment before it returned to sight.

"Awa Awa Awa." The progeny had fallen to his bum, caked in green blood, dust now smearing his pants, his mouth agape, unable or unwilling to process the happenings as the child's brain came to terms with this brush of death.

"Get up Gohan!" Yet he would not have time to relax, none of them would, for the great green one yelled out with a firm tone. "The fight is not yet over."

Stoic and Aurelian the green one stared hard into the cloud of dust, celebration and cheer stopped while the little boy got up, one leg at a time, the lingering Ki of the attack interfering with their senses.

"Ha, ha, ha. That was a good attempt, wasn't it, Nappa?" As soon as they heard the voice emerge from the dust they knew that it was not yet over, far from it.

"N-no way. I blasted them with all I got!" The halfling yelled out, his hands shook and trembled for a moment, as if doubting their power and usefulness, his face flashing with a great amount of fear and disbelief, before it washed away, hands clenched into tight fists of determination.

The wind blew, a slight breeze going past all the figures, down the crater and out of it again, carrying with it the curtain of dust that obscured the two powerhouses.

"Not a scratch." The youngest one gave what was barely a mutter, without thought even put into the words, yet so clearly, it was heard, it served as an echo, a vocalization of their thoughts, and their fears.

The two stepped forward, Nappa trailing behind the prince even if he had the larger steps, soon, they were standing right opposite one another, as they had in the beginning, this time out of the crater and closer to the team of earth fighters.

Stretched thin was the atmosphere, hard to breathe, the dust irritated the eyes and nose, and silence settled for a few seconds along with the dust, disbelieving yet determined eyes looking at cold and disinterested ones.

"You take care of this, Nappa." Finally, the prince spoke out, ordering, commanding, constricting Nappa, tying him to the path already set, and with a sure step, a step of no hesitation, at least not mental, Nappa began to walk that road.

He couldn't help but notice, however, his foot shook slightly as it made landfall, nor could he ignore the emotions raging in the background.

'Death comes to all equally.' He thought his teeth grin hard as he restrained both his body and emotions. 'Settle down and follow your destiny.' Broken out of his stillness by a determined mind he strode forth in front of the other opponents.

Yet still, something nagged at him, but he disregarded it.

Observing the opponents, getting his mind off the internal matters, he compared himself to them. A varying tower of muscle he is, taller than all the fighters except for the Namekian, yet even that one was thin, lanky, he is stocky, wide, muscular, it was a clash, a clash of ideology itself, a clash which began by standing and posing.

'What should I use?' He asked himself, searching for what might be applicable within the foreign yet familiar memory which is not quite his own just yet, but getting integrated and explored more with each second that passes, even though he knows them all already.

Combat experience and technique flashed by, Nappa had little in terms of the latter, yet an overabundance of the former, and soon, instinctively, his body and mind had found the formula, almost a rough-looking mathematics equation for the attack.

He spread his legs wide, lowering himself slightly, a wider stance leading to a lowered center of gravity, making himself more stable. Spreading out his arms, one forward one back, optimal for attack and defense, as he stared at his enemy dead ahead.

"Haaaaaaaa!" The screaming was not needed nor necessary, yet it worked, demoralization, mental destabilization of the opponent, entire armies had fallen and surrendered to just the boom of the voice, not that it stopped him from massacring them anyways.

The energy began to leak out, no, not just leak out, but be forced out. Conducted, yet not controlled, it enveloped him, and in lithe strings which bonded into thick cordage, it reached outside.

*Crack* *Crack*

The ground began to shift, lifting and lowering, rocks began to levitate, at first the pebbles and soon the stones too, breaking apart even more mid-flight from the enormous pressure exerted on it.

Dubious advantage, cracking the ground, takes away the familiarity of home soil, yet on a group like this, flying, strong, it will work not too great, yet that is not the only, nor the greatest, purpose of this release.

Clouds began to gather, tumultuous gatherings of black forming overhead, warning, signaling, the weather, sunny and bright moments ago were quickly becoming threatening to the very lifeforms that try to protect this planet.

The group took a step back from the power outputted, awed, and terrified. Why they do not attack him now, but instead, allow his charge up to continue is a question with no answer, one to be thought about at a later day.

Even if they did attack, however, the energy surrounding him serves as a great natural shield, boosted by the clouds above.

*Ka-pow*

If before the fear had not been succinct enough, now it was. The roaring rumbling thunder, as if announcing the arrival of a mad titan, flashed overhead, flashed faster and faster, stronger and stronger, deafening, awe-inspiring.

Soon enough the bolts were striking the ground, a dozen at a time, it took little time until one hit Napppa directly.

A crude, if genius strategy. His Ki acting as ammonia to the bleach which is this planet, eliciting a strong reaction, yet also as a lightning road, soaking up, using, charging himself with the Ki of the earth. Crude, brutal, bull-headed even, yet it worked great.

His eyes scanned, the figures were all battle-ready. Tense, wound up, ready to pounce, muscle and sinew acting in accord, connected to the strong and tough bone, their greatest attacks ready to be unleashed with great might.

It lasted only for a few seconds, the peace, surprisingly the other side attacked first.

The doll was the one who broke, charging silently but intently, yet with a whistle of wind accompanying his movement as a sphere of Ki appeared in his hands.

"Chiaotzu!" The triclops shouted, worry flashing, a fool for being so concerned despite knowingly taking his companion to an active battlefield, still, it is not as if he has time to be worried, for his friend is not the true target of Nappa's impending attack.

He dashed, speed unthinkable beamed him forward in a line straight, an eyeball's cursory look at the charging bull had not been achieved before he reached the worrying triclops, using the distraction of the floating doll as a way to attack.

His arms, already in an upright position, reaching out to his floating friend, just barely reacted fast enough, the first punch was blocked or rather deflected, yet a cost was paid, clearly known which one as the sound of cracking bone is heard.

'Now!' His mind gave an order, a thought. Quick, to the point. Merciless and easy, a jab of the fingers, lashing of the fist, he would be gone, reduced to mist, head opened up, enemy vanquished.

Yet his body would not listen. Even more so he felt the emotions riling as he gave the order, rebelling stronger than ever at him. They did not want it, the order. They want to follow the body's initiative, and so they did, a vote of 2 overpowering the singular logical thought which itself is distracted, thus weakened, by the ongoing battle.

It took less than a fraction of a second for this process to happen.

He grabbed the broken arm of the triclops, squeezed tight, his grip a frightening thing to behold, especially so with his incredibly wide palms. With a pop, a crackling, a spurt of crimson ribbon adorning his body and that of his opponent, half of the appendage fell, sticking dust to it as it went.

Yet that did not happen before he was lifted off the ground, wielded like a club by his broken arm, hitting the great green and sending him off flying, before the triclops too was sent away by the dismemberment of his appendage.

"Ti******!" A shout, yet he barely heard it, not even knowing where it came from. His body once again moved, yet his mind did not, it was slow, sluggish, incapable of correct thought, the emotions, they had finally bled thru, forcing the mind to focus on them.

'What was it?' He asked himself. A kick went off, another small figure vanished into the rock, beaten, bruised, loud shouts all around, most likely bleeding too.

When he grabbed it, even before, when he broke it. The blood, gore, splatter. This is no green weakening of unknown appearance, this is no unnamed mass of coagulated creatures, one indiscernible from the other.

This is a man that he broke, the face he made when the pain hit him, the weakness he felt when his arm came off, the domination he asserted with his sheer power, the feeling, the ardor, flowing from deep within him, it was electrifying, all-consuming even.

It was a feeling, an emotion, which he was overcome by. He knows it all, he has seen it all, experienced all. His thoughts were an expanse of all the luxury of the world for millennia, it tried to reel back against the sudden flood of feeling, yet it could barely hold its ground. How easy it has been overcome, his stout mind, by not even a day of existing.

'Why is it then that I feel as such?' The feeling, did not stop to swell, it reached, surged, it was engulfing him whole. A hit came at his back, yet was deflected, used, wound up, thrown back.

His thoughts were inconsistent, inconceivable. He could not understand it, the emotions he felt, and the more time passed the less did he want to try and understand. The not thinking, following his instinct and desires, brought him a feeling of euphoria, it muddled his thoughts further, the thought of not thinking.

It was beginning to get hard to think.

The weight attached to his back was small, unnoticeable, yet there too. Ki began to gather, a bomb, explosion, craters to be made. He flew, flew towards the targets. No bomb was made to kill its inventors, its people.

The outside seeped in slightly, another peak was reached, his thoughts had begun to crawl, not walk, not speed. He could not overthink anything, simplicity is all he saw, and joy was all he felt.

"Aaargh!" Finally, something penetrated the hole made by the attempted bomb, a scream.

Sticky hot liquid clung to his skin, rolling down the hairs and contoured muscle. Beefy fingers rolled around a small head, he looked forward, eyes still blurry, the boy of incense was being crushed.

He looked at him eye to eye, to see it all happen, his grip tightens, the moan of pain, then loosen, another moan of pain, knowing he can pop it wherever he wants, and the destruction he had caused around himself in his single-minded state, he realized it.

He realized what this feeling was, and what he must do with it, what the desire is, and how to feed it.

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P. S. The title of the previous chapter was a reference to Dane's Divine Comedy, as well as the Bible, where the first circle of hell is where all the overconfident and arrogant people go after death.

Also a new nickname for Krillin, half-man.