The nursery unit was a symphony of controlled chaos. Dozens of Saiyan infants, all a few months older than Kairo, were not babbling or playing. They were wrestling, biting, and emitting tiny, uncontrolled bursts of energy that singed the reinforced metal walls. Attendant robots moved through the fray, indifferent to the minor violence, only intervening when a limb looked likely to be severed.
Kairo had been deposited in a small, bare crib. He spent his first hours there in absolute stillness, his mind a whirlwind of calculation and fear.
Ten years.
The number was a death sentence. Frieza. The mere thought of the tyrant sent a primal shudder through his tiny body, a racial fear buried deep in his Saiyan genes. But Kaito's mind fought back, wrestling the instinct into a data point.
Assume Frieza's Power Level is in the millions. My current Power Level is 15. The growth required is exponential and must be achieved in a hostile environment where displaying abnormal power would draw fatal attention.
His first priority was not strength, but survival and information. He had to understand the rules of this world and the tools at his disposal.
He focused inward, on the System. A mental nudge brought the blue screen back into his vision. It was less cluttered now, showing a simple status.
[User: Kairo]
[Race: Saiyan (Low-Class)]
[Age: 0.1 Years]
[Power Level: 15]
[Status: Healthy, Undernourished]
[Active Quests: 1 - The Saiyan Exodus]
[Mandate Points: 0]
[Trait Gacha Tokens: 0]
Undernourished? He looked at the nutrient paste a robot had smeared near his mouth. It was bland and barely sufficient. He understood immediately. Resources were allocated by potential. Low-class infants received low-class rations. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy of weakness.
He couldn't change the rations, but he could change his efficiency. Lying in his crib, he began the most basic of experiments: controlling his breath. He recalled human meditation techniques and principles of energy conservation from his past life. He focused on slowing his heartbeat, on drawing in the thin, metallic air and distributing the oxygen with maximum efficiency.
It was tedious, frustrating work. His infant body had its own rhythms, its own impulses. But Kaito's will was iron. He practiced for hours, ignoring the scuffles around him.
A notification flickered.
[Skill Developed: Basic Ki Control (Passive - Lv. 1)]
[Effect: Slightly increases the efficiency of natural energy recovery and stamina usage.]
A small victory, but a critical one. It proved he could influence the System through action. He could create skills.
Emboldened, he turned his focus outward. He tried to feel the "Ki" the racial memories spoke of. At first, he felt nothing. Then, as he honed his breathing and quieted his mind, he began to sense it. It was a faint, warm thrum in the air around him, the collective, untamed life force of the other infants. It was wild and chaotic.
He then tried to feel the energy within himself. It was a tiny, flickering candle compared to the bonfires around him. But it was his. He tried to push it, to make it flare.
A sharp pain lanced through his chest. He coughed, a tiny, pathetic sound. He had strained his nascent energy channels.
[Status: Minor Internal Ki Strain.]
So, brute force was not the answer. It had to be precision. He was an astrophysicist, not a barbarian. He would approach Ki as he would a complex equation—with analysis, theory, and meticulous application.
His moment of theoretical practice was shattered by a shadow falling over his crib. A larger infant, with a shock of spiky brown hair and a brutish gleam in his eyes, had climbed over the rail. This one had a power level of maybe 25, and he looked hungry. He lunged for the small portion of nutrient paste still smeared near Kairo.
Instinct, both Saiyan and human, screamed at Kairo to fight back. But his power was 15. A direct conflict was a loss.
As the larger infant lunged, Kairo didn't try to meet force with force. He used the Basic Ki Control he'd just learned. He focused his meager Ki not into a strike, but into a sudden, precise burst of movement. He rolled sideways, a fraction faster than he should have been able to.
The larger infant stumbled, his face smashing into the metal crib base with a satisfying thud. He roared in frustration and pain, turning back to Kairo with genuine anger now.
But the commotion had drawn the attention of a patrol bot. A red beam scanned the aggressive infant.
[Infant 778: Power Level 28. Aggression levels exceeding nursery parameters. Recommendation: Field Survival Test.]
The bot's clawed arm shot out, grabbing the larger infant, who screeched and flailed as he was carried away. Kairo didn't know what a "Field Survival Test" was, but it sounded like a death sentence for a baby.
He had survived. Not through power, but through intelligence and a sliver of control. He felt a grim satisfaction, quickly followed by a cold chill. This was his life now. A single misstep meant death or disposal.
He looked at his status again. The "Minor Internal Ki Strain" was already gone. In its place, he felt… different. The candle of his Ki felt slightly brighter, slightly steadier.
[Power Level: 15 -> 17]
A notification, golden and profound, appeared.
[Condition Met: Zenkai Boost Activated.]
[Limit-Breaker Trait Detected.]
[Analyzing Host's Physiological Cap...]
[ERROR: No Cap Found.]
[Zenkai Boost Efficiency set to 200%. Growth is uncapped.]
Kairo stared at the screen, his breath catching. This was it. This was the key. The legendary Saiyan ability to grow stronger from near-death experiences. But for him, it was different. It was better. It had no diminishing returns.
He had gained 2 points of power from a minor strain. What would a true, life-threatening injury grant him?
The thought was terrifying and intoxicating. It was a path to power, but it was a path of unimaginable pain and risk. He couldn't seek it out recklessly. Not yet. He needed a foundation. He needed control. He needed to understand how to maximize the gain while minimizing the genuine risk of death.
As the nursery's lights dimmed, signaling the planetary night cycle, Kairo lay in the semi-darkness, his mind racing with equations of risk and reward. He had taken his first, trembling step. He had confirmed his unique talent.
The weak, fragile body around him was nothing but a shell. Within it burned the heart of a scientist and the soul of a Limit-Breaker.
The climb from 17 to millions had begun.