Lapis's recently inflated confidence instantly crumbled, and he couldn't help but ask, "Chiga-san, are all Gods this powerful? How many Gods are there in this world?"
"Not at all," Chiga replied, hands spread in a casual gesture. "There are many Gods, but most are actually weak. For instance, the God on Earth, you could crush him with one hand right now."
"What about the strong ones?" Lapis pressed.
"You can't deal with the strong ones. If you encounter a God of Destruction, escape won't be so simple."
"Chiga-san, what about you? Could you defeat a God of Destruction?"
Chiga shrugged, a shadow of thought crossing his face. "I don't know. Maybe we'd be evenly matched."
Chiga's God realm didn't follow the same rules as the Dragon Ball world's power system, so it was hard to say for sure. He kept that ambiguity deliberately—there was no point in boasting where it would only cause trouble.
Lazuli clenched her small fists and swung them twice, declaring with fierce conviction, "I believe you're the strongest."
Chiga allowed a faint smile. In the other two worlds he had passed through, he had indeed been unrivaled, but in this place—the Dragon Ball world—it was wiser to keep a low profile.
He turned and headed for the laboratory exit, Lazuli and Lapis falling in step behind him. The facility had been carved into the side of a mountain, an isolated place for experiments and secrets. As soon as Chiga stepped out, he took to the air and hovered, surveying the compound below.
"There is no use for this place anymore," he said, voice even.
A golden light kindled in his eyes, and without any exaggerated motion, the laboratory erupted. The explosion gutted the structure and leveled the mountaintop in a single, devastating shockwave. Rocks and debris rained outward while a dust cloud swallowed the crater where the lab had stood.
Still, Lazuli fired another energy blast, an involuntary outburst of pent-up anger. To her, everything that scientist had done to her and her brother—the experiments that nearly erased their wills—deserved obliteration. She brushed aside the golden fringe that had fallen across her forehead and stared at the smoldering ruins. From that day on she felt she could never again be the timid Lazuli she had once been.
After they returned to the city, Chiga moved into Lazuli's home at her suggestion; she did not believe a god's allegiances would include being the principal's grand-nephew, and it made sense to keep him close. For a while he stayed with Lazuli and the others, blending into their odd family life.
One afternoon two streaks of fire traced bright arcs across the sky. Chiga leaned against the school railing, a small smile tugging at his mouth. "Have they finally arrived? I wonder how Goku and the others are handling this."
Lazuli at his side tilted her head. "Who is arriving? What are you talking about?"
"Two aliens," Chiga said lightly. "Not very strong. To you they will be like ants."
Before Lazuli could answer, a muffled boom echoed across the distance and a small mushroom cloud rose beyond the city limits. Chiga's brow lifted. "Huh, this is where Vegeta and his companion chose to land this time."
Lazuli's expression pinched with annoyance. "They made a mess the second they touched down. They don't seem like friendly visitors. Should we check it out?"
"Let's go," Chiga agreed. "It would be awkward if that bald one smashed this place to bits."
He grasped Lazuli's hand, and in an instant they vanished in a flicker of light, reappearing at the source of the disturbance.
At Capsule Corporation a deep crater now scarred the private lawn. Two white spherical pods sat in the pit, their surfaces scorched and smoking. Bulma and several staff stood at the crater's edge, alarmed; Yamcha had joined them, his playful manner stripped away by immediate danger.
Bulma's face was taut with concern. She had not expected Saiyans to drop in so close to her company's grounds. Yamcha straightened and, without his usual grin, told Bulma in a steady voice, "Inform Goku and the others. Let me try to hold them off."
Bulma nodded and moved to comply, when the pods reacted. Hatches opened and two figures climbed out: a large, bald man and a shorter, lean man with a pronounced widow's peak. Both wore armored battle suits, and sensors gleamed on their faces. Nappa and Vegeta.
Nappa checked the readings on his scouter and sneered as numbers flickered across it. "They're weak. Except for that taller one, none of them register above five."
Vegeta crossed his arms, unimpressed but cautious. "Don't be quick to judge. Some Earthlings can hide their power. There could be someone among them with a level over twenty thousand."
A cold bead of sweat formed on Nappa's scalp; he gulped and forced agreement. Vegeta watched the humans before him and, with a slow, contemptuous float, landed near Bulma and the others. Though not very tall, his presence radiated such lethal intent that the crowd involuntarily stepped back.
Vegeta's assessment was cruel and immediate: these people looked like weak meat. He eyed Yamcha with interest, considering that the scarred fighter might have some connection to Kakarot.
Nappa soon followed, landing with a thud beside Vegeta and asking, "Vegeta, what now? Should we search for Kakarot first?"
Vegeta's voice was dry as stone. He pointed at Yamcha and said without effort, "Ignore that one, kill the rest."
Panic spread instantly across Bulma's group. Yamcha's muscles tensed. He planted himself between Bulma and the others, shouting, "Bulma, go now! Leave this to me!"
He surged, body crackling, power flaring outward as he pushed into a combat state. The scouters on Vegeta and Nappa blinked and registered Yamcha's number at a thousand.
Vegeta's lips twitched with interest. "So they can mask their power. He must know Kakarot."
Nappa's grin returned, though a little strained. "It's only one thousand. I hope I don't break him by mistake."
Vegeta leaned against a tree with languid menace and said, "Be careful, or you'll learn what that costs."
Nappa shivered and swallowed. "Y-yes, yes! I'll be careful!"
The two Saiyans took their positions, and for a heartbeat the field hung heavy—an impending storm of violence ready to burst. Chiga hovered beside Lazuli, watching the scene unfold below with a steady, unreadable expression. His presence was a quiet assurance in the face of chaos, and Lazuli's grip on his hand tightened only slightly, a small, human response in the middle of everything.
_______
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