Zelle's grin widened, showing off a set of teeth that looked like they could crush diamonds. She slapped her hand into mine, her grip firm and surprisingly warm. "Let's go," she said, leading me back into the training room. "I've got just the thing to test your mettle."
The room had cleared out, leaving us with a spacious area to spar. The air was charged with the anticipation of combat, the very atoms seeming to vibrate with the promise of a good fight. She turned to face me, her power level rising to a formidable 1,500. "You talk a big game, Cody," she said, her voice low and predatory. "Let's see if you can back it up."
Her eyes gleamed as she cracked her knuckles, the sound echoing through the room like gunshots. She was all lean muscle and deadly intent, a force of nature waiting to be unleashed. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement—and fear—as I faced her. But fear was a good thing; it kept me sharp.
Zelle's tongue touches her lips as she anticipates the upcoming spar. Her eyes light up with a fiery hunger, the kind that can only be satiated with a good fight. The sight sends a jolt of electricity through the air, a silent promise of the battle to come. She cracks her knuckles again, the sharp sound echoing through the empty training hall.
"Alright, Cody," she says, her voice dropping to a low, predatory growl. "Let's see if that brain of yours can keep up with this body."
"You're on bitch" I grinned, feeling the adrenaline surge through my veins. I'd always loved a good challenge, and fighting a Saiyan was about as good as it got. Sure, she was three times stronger than me, but I had brains on my side, and in the Frieza Force, that counted for a lot.
The scouter on my forehead beeped, the red numbers flashing a warning. My power level was still at a measly 1,200, while hers was 1,500. The device whispered in my ear, "Use evasive and swift movements to avoid severe injuries." I knew the drill. If I was going to survive this, let alone win, I'd have to play it smart.
BE SURE TO UTILIZE AGILITY.LOW CLASS SAIYANS LACK IN DEPTH FIGHTING TECHNIQUE.
The scouter's advice echoed in my head as Zelle and I circled each other in the training room. She was all raw power and instinct, her muscles rippling with each step. I knew I couldn't go toe-to-toe with her brute strength; I had to be smarter, faster. So, I danced around her, feinting and dodging, watching her eyes for any sign of an attack.
And when it came, it was like a tornado of fists and feet. She unleashed a flurry of punches and kicks, each one aimed to end the fight in an instant. But I was ready for her. I ducked, weaved, and slipped through the gaps in her barrage, my body moving like liquid. The air around us crackled with the energy of her blows, and the metallic smell of ozone filled my nostrils. The grunts who'd gathered to watch gasped as I avoided what looked like a fight-ending combo.
The scouter's suggestions were a lifeline, guiding me through the chaos. It suggested a pattern to her attacks, a rhythm that I could exploit. I waited for the opening, my heart racing, sweat beading on my forehead despite the cold air. And then it came, a split-second pause as she shifted her stance. I pounced, my hand shooting out like a snake's tongue to tap her on the forehead.
"Hmph!" she grunted, her smile fading for a moment. But it was back in an instant, her eyes gleaming with challenge. "Not bad," she said, "not bad at all."
The crowd of grunts murmured their approval, and I felt a swell of pride. I'd just dodged the most feared fist in the room, and I hadn't even broken a sweat. But I knew better than to get cocky. I had to keep pushing, keep adapting.
So, when she rushed at me again, I was ready. This time, I didn't just dodge; I used her momentum against her. I sidestepped, letting her pass by, and as she turned to face me, I was already in motion. My leg shot out, catching her in the side and sending her tumbling. The room went quiet as she hit the floor, the sound of her armor clattering echoing through the hall.
Zelle was back on her feet in an instant, a hint of respect in her gaze. "Not bad," she repeated, her voice a low rumble. "But you can't rely on speed alone. You need to hit where it counts."
The scouter beeped, and a new set of instructions popped up:
ENEMY PATTERN DETECTED. ANALYZING FOR WEAK POINT...
I knew this was my chance. Time to get serious. "Alright," I said, flexing my fingers. "Let's see if you can keep up with me."
Her grin widened, and she crouched down, ready to pounce. "You talk big, little blue," she said. "Let's see if you can back it up."
And she did. The Saiyan launched herself at me with the ferocity of a wild animal, each punch and kick fueled by pure, unbridled power. She was all instinct and fury, a whirlwind of destruction that seemed unstoppable. But as I watched her, I saw the cracks in her armor. Her technique was raw, unrefined. A wild beast with the strength of a hundred men, but the grace of a drunken ape.
I dodged her attacks with ease, my speed and precision a stark contrast to her brute force. My movements were like a dance, each step and strike calculated, each dodge and block a deliberate counter to her wild flailing. Her blows grew more desperate, more erratic, and I could feel the grunts' amazement as they watched their Saiyan comrade get outfoxed by a mere Zarbonian.
My scouter beeped again, the voice calm and collected amidst the chaos.
TARGET THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE RIBCAGE.VULNERABILITY DETECTED...
I took the advice to heart, watching for the right moment. And when it came, I struck. My fist connected with a satisfying crunch, her ribs giving way beneath my knuckles. Zelle stumbled back, her expression one of shock and pain. For a moment, she just stood there, gasping for air.
"What the...?" she managed to get out, her hand going to her side.
"It's all about knowing your enemy," I said, smug satisfaction in my voice. "And, apparently, you're not as untouchable as everyone thinks."
Her power level dropped to 1,300, and she glared at me with a mix of anger and admiration. "You're good," she admitted, her voice strained. "But you're still just a grunt. And grunts don't beat Saiyans."
"We'll see about that," I said, cracking my neck. The room was hot now, the air thick with the scent of our exertion. "But for now, let's call it a draw. I've got a feeling we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other."