Renkon pointed the light blue energy concentrated at the tip of his finger toward a nearby mountain. The ki blast streaked across the distance in less than a second, a brilliant azure comet against the Cerealian sky.
Boom!!
The impact was immediate and devastating. The massive boulder at the mountain's base shattered instantly, exploding into countless fragments that scattered violently across the ground. A cloud of dust and debris billowed outward, carried by the shockwave that rippled through the air.
Granolah was scared beyond measure, his small body trembling uncontrollably at the casual display of destructive power. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead as a single thought dominated his mind:
Too horrifying!
If such an attack were directed at him, his fate would be identical to those pulverized stones—nothing but scattered fragments. The realization struck him with paralyzing clarity.
Granolah's legs kept trembling involuntarily beneath him, and his normally ruddy face had drained to a pallor that resembled a blank sheet of paper. His breath came in short, panicked gasps.
"Little guy, I heard you saying that you're going to seek revenge from the Saiyans, right?" Renkon turned his attention back to Granolah, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His tone was deceptively casual, almost friendly, which somehow made it all the more terrifying.
Granolah looked like he was about to break into tears at any moment. The confident declarations of revenge he had been making mere minutes ago now seemed like the hollow boasts of a child who had never truly understood the gulf between his dreams and reality. He was that terrified!
"Hey, he's still a child!" Monaito interjected quickly, his normally calm voice edged with desperation. The elderly Namekian's hands trembled slightly, but he stood his ground, positioning himself further between the Saiyan warrior and his young ward.
"A child?" Renkon's eyebrow raised slightly, his smile never faltering. "Do you want me to watch him grow into a tiger?" He chuckled lightly, the sound devoid of humor. "Why not cut the tree from its roots? When one day, he might come to me for revenge?"
Granolah's body shook more violently at these words, the implication crystal clear even to his young mind. However, something unexpected happened within him. After experiencing this extreme fear—this visceral, primal terror—Granolah's heart began to fill with something else: endless, burning anger. Memories flashed before his eyes—his family, his friends, his people. Their faces, their voices, their final moments.
They all died miserably because of you!
The thought ignited something within him, pushing past the fear.
"Aaaah! Come to me, I'm going to kill you!" Granolah gritted his teeth so hard they might crack, his face contorted with rage as he suddenly charged toward Renkon, waving his small fist with all the strength his young body could muster.
Renkon, displaying reflexes that bordered on the supernatural, easily grabbed Granolah by the head with one hand, halting the child's charge instantly. Because of Granolah's short stature, his legs and arms flailed uselessly, unable to reach Renkon's body no matter how he stretched.
"Boy, are you serious about seeking revenge from the Saiyans with your current power?" Renkon shook his head, looking down at the struggling child with something between amusement and pity. "I think you're just dreaming. Forget about today—even if you train for 100 more years, you won't achieve anything. This is your limit."
"What are you talking about? As long as I have enough time, I will definitely defeat you!" Granolah shouted angrily, still struggling against Renkon's iron grip, his pride refusing to acknowledge the reality of the power difference between them.
"You think I will give you that time?" Renkon smiled softly, the threat hanging in the air between them like a suspended blade.
Monaito, seeing the situation deteriorating rapidly, stepped forward with his hands raised in a placating gesture. His ancient eyes reflected both fear and determination.
"Listen... if you want something, as long as you can let this kid go, no matter what it is, I will give it to you, I promise." The Namekian spoke quickly, desperation evident in every syllable.
Boom!
In a movement too swift for either Cerealian or Namekian to follow, Renkon brought his hand down. For a heart-stopping moment, Monaito thought the worst had happened—until he realized Renkon had merely patted Granolah firmly on the head, tousling his hair with surprising gentleness.
Monaito was taken aback for a moment, his antennae twitching in confusion, but immense relief washed over him when he saw that Granolah remained unharmed. The boy's life force continued to pulse strongly, though his pride might have suffered a deeper wound.
"Hand over the Dragon Ball. This is my only condition," Renkon said to Monaito, his voice suddenly businesslike, dropping all pretense of threat.
"What? You know about the Dragon Balls? Even Frieza didn't know about them!" Monaito's face changed color rapidly, shock evident in every line of his ancient features. This revelation was perhaps more disturbing than the Saiyan's arrival itself.
"What? Do you refuse to hand it over?" Renkon's voice cooled noticeably as he pointed a finger at Granolah once more. "Then, I would have to kill the remnants of the Cereal race."
"No, no. I will give it to you," Monaito responded immediately, his voice steadier than he felt. His mind raced with calculations and possibilities.
Even if I give it to you, you won't be able to make a wish anyway.
You don't know the chant, do you?
After giving him the Dragon Ball, I have to take Granolah to a safe place immediately.
At least he won't be able to threaten me with Granolah again to tell him the chant.
Also, he doesn't know where the other Dragon Ball is, right?
After so many years, even I don't know where the second dragon ball has gone.
This planet is so big, and it will be difficult to find a small ball in it.
I will give it to you.
"Please wait for a moment," Monaito said with a slight bow, turned around, and entered his modest dwelling. The interior was sparse but well-kept, with various Namekian artifacts and a few Cerealian treasures displayed with reverence. He moved directly to a concealed compartment beneath a simple woven rug, his fingers deftly working a mechanism that would be invisible to untrained eyes.
Not long after, he emerged carrying the orange crystalline orb—one of the legendary Dragon Balls of Planet Cereal, seven stars glimmering within its depths. Monaito approached Renkon and handed it over with visible reluctance, saying, "Can you leave now?"
Renkon took the Dragon Ball, holding it up to the light for a moment, his expression shifting to one of satisfaction as the sunlight danced through the crystalline sphere. He nodded appreciatively.
Immediately afterward, Renkon's lips curved into a smile as he looked directly at Monaito, an unreadable expression crossing his features.
Monaito's face changed colors again, apprehension returning in full force.
What's up with this smile?
"Oh, I didn't intend to kill him anyway, but thank you for the Dragon Ball. Goodbye." After he finished speaking, Renkon took to the air in a flash, his aura briefly illuminating the area before he streaked across the sky, leaving only a fading contrail to mark his passing.
Monaito stood in silent contemplation, watching the arc Renkon left in the sky with a complicated expression. His hand rested protectively on Granolah's shoulder, feeling the boy's trembling gradually subside.
Monaito could vaguely sense that this Saiyan wasn't normal! There was something distinctly different about him compared to the Saiyans who had razed Planet Cereal. His power, his knowledge, even his manner—all suggested something far beyond an ordinary warrior of that race.
With Granolha's talent and aptitude, I'm afraid that he won't be his opponent even after 100 years of cultivation.
Monaito pondered this troubling thought, then let out a helpless sigh. The wind picked up around them, rustling through the native vegetation as if nature itself was responding to the momentous encounter that had just occurred.
Renkon appeared in a deserted place far from Monaito's dwelling, carefully placing the two Dragon Balls on the ground before him. Their orange surfaces gleamed in the sunlight, the stars within them seeming to pulse with inner light.
With methodical movements, he reached into a concealed pocket within his armor and took out a small, well-worn notebook. The pages were filled with meticulous notes—plans, observations, and critical information about this world he now inhabited.
He opened the small notebook to a specific page and found a recorded sentence that he had written there with particular care.
The sentence was: "Takkaraputo, tottoronbo pupirittoparo!"
A smile of self-satisfaction crossed Renkon's face. Fortunately for him, he had been such an Otaku in his previous life—he knew practically everything about this world from reading the Manga obsessively. There were advantages to being a fan with an encyclopedic knowledge of Dragon Ball lore.
After he had crossed over to this world, Renkon had immediately written down the Cerealian spell in his notebook. The incantation was so complex and tongue-twisting that Renkon had worried he might forget it with the passage of time, and he couldn't afford such a mistake.
Standing straight, Renkon faced the Dragon Balls and spoke the words with careful pronunciation.
"Takkaraputo, tottoronbo pupirittoparo!" he shouted loudly, his voice carrying across the empty landscape.
For a moment, nothing happened—then suddenly, golden light bloomed from the two Dragon Balls, pulsing in unison. The orbs rose slightly into the air, spinning slowly as their glow intensified.
In the next moment, a brilliant beam of golden light shot upward into the sky, so bright it was visible for hundreds of miles in every direction. The beam twisted and writhed as if alive, growing and expanding.
In the blink of an eye, the golden beam of light transformed, taking the shape of an enormous dragon. Unlike Earth's Shenron, this dragon—Toronbo—had a more serpentine appearance, its scales a gleaming gold rather than emerald green, its eyes burning with ancient wisdom and power.
"Those who have gathered the dragon balls, please say your wishes, and I will grant it for you," Toronbo's voice rang out, deep and resonant, seeming to come from everywhere at once.
Renkon stood unflinching before the majestic creature, his goal finally within reach.
"My wish is very simple. I want the ability to breathe in the outer universe," Renkon stated his wish clearly and concisely.
Toronbo's massive head tilted slightly, as if considering the unusual request.
"This wish is indeed very simple," Toronbo said after a moment's consideration. Red flames suddenly flashed in his enormous eyes, reflecting an ancient power being called upon.
The flames quickly expanded outward from the dragon's eyes, stretching toward Renkon until they completely enveloped his body in a cocoon of crimson energy. The sensation was warm but not uncomfortable, a tingling that seemed to permeate every cell of his being.
"Your wish is fulfilled. Farewell," Toronbo declared. The dragon's form began to dissolve, returning to the beam of light from which it had emerged.
After that, the dragon promptly disappeared, leaving behind no trace of its magnificent presence. The two Dragon Balls rose high into the air, pulsed once more with golden light, and then scattered across the planet's surface, turning to stone as they always did after a wish was granted.
Renkon stood silently, carefully inspecting his body. Outwardly, there seemed to be no special change—no visible transformation or marking to indicate what had happened. Yet somehow, he felt different, as if he had gained something fundamental yet subtle.
I'll try it in space, he decided, eager to test his new ability.
Whoosh!
Without further delay, Renkon launched himself skyward, his aura flaring around him as he accelerated rapidly upward. He passed through the lower atmosphere, then the upper, continuing to ascend as the sky around him gradually darkened from blue to indigo and finally to the pitch black of space.
Soon, Renkon found himself floating outside the atmosphere of Cereal, surrounded by the vast emptiness of the universe.
This was it—the terrible, unforgiving vacuum of space!
In this environment, any normal Saiyan who ventured here unprotected would die within moments—their bodies unable to survive the lack of oxygen, the extreme temperatures, and the radiation.
However, Renkon remained completely at ease, floating comfortably as if he were merely swimming in a calm lake rather than the most hostile environment known.
Renkon could feel that after entering this cosmic void, his skin seemed to have developed a remarkable new ability—it could somehow extract what he needed directly from space itself, rather than requiring him to breathe air through his lungs. The sensation was subtle yet unmistakable.
Experimentally, Renkon tried to take a deep breath.
The experience was unusual and fascinating!
Although there was no air in the vacuum of space, Renkon could still perform the physical action of inhaling and exhaling! It wasn't necessary for his survival—his skin was now doing that work—but the familiar action was still possible.
This world is truly wonderful, he thought, marveling at the possibilities his new ability opened up.
Newton's probably flapping in his grave right now, he chuckled to himself, appreciating the absurdity of how thoroughly the physics of this universe defied those of his original world.
Meanwhile, back on the planet's surface, Monaito stood frozen in shock, his keen Namekian senses having detected the unmistakable surge of energy that accompanied the summoning of Toronbo.
What?
This Saiyan summoned the dragon?
Monaito's mind reeled with shock and disbelief, his ancient features contorted with confusion.
How did he find that other Dragon Ball?
How did he know the spell?
These questions hammered at his consciousness, each more disturbing than the last. A cold dread settled in his stomach as the implications became clear.
I didn't even tell Granolah about the spell.
I was planning to teach him the spell after he gets older.
The only people who knew the spell were the compatriots who came with me to this planet.
The problem is that all of my compatriots have passed away.
Besides, even if one of them was still alive, they wouldn't tell this guy the spell.
Monaito's face changed colors again and again as he processed these troubling thoughts, his antennae twitching with agitation.
This Saiyan is not normal, he concluded with absolute certainty. Whether this was a positive or negative development for Planet Cereal remained to be seen, but one thing was clear—the universe had just become a much more complex and dangerous place.