My name is Hit. I'm from Universe 6, and I am a professional assassin through and through. Over the course of my centuries-long career, I have never failed a mission. But today... for the first time, I failed.
...
"Why weren't you moving just now?" Trunks looked at Hit with genuine confusion.
Hit's face instantly darkened, as if someone had stepped directly on a landmine.
"What do you mean 'I wasn't moving?'!"
His eyes twitched violently. He felt deeply insulted. "Are you mocking me?"
Hit gritted his teeth so hard that his jaw creaked, his fists clenching until they crackled. Yet despite his anger, a powerful sense of curiosity suddenly rose within him.
This seemingly ordinary guy had effortlessly broken through the Space Prison, a technique that Hit had spent centuries developing. The unprecedented setback forced him to reevaluate Trunks.
After a fierce internal struggle, Hit slowly loosened his fists. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he asked in a serious voice, "Who exactly are you?"
Trunks quietly looked at Hit's solemn expression. Truthfully, he didn't have a bad impression of him; in the original story, Hit had eventually become friends with Son Goku. With that in mind, Trunks decided not to hide anything.
"I'm from Universe 7. My name is Trunks."
Hit slowly closed his eyes, searching through his memories for that name. A moment later, he opened them again, certain this was their first meeting. Which only made things more confusing. If they had never met before, how did Trunks know so much about his abilities?
Filled with questions, Hit asked again, "How exactly did you break my Space Prison?" His gaze sharpened like a pair of blades, desperate for an answer.
Unfortunately, Trunks didn't know the answer himself. Since Hit seemed so eager to hear something, he could only offer a vague response.
"Break it? I wouldn't really call it that. After all, you're still the master of this space, aren't you?" He pointed toward the Man in Black and Super Perfect Cell. "They still can't move without your permission, right?"
Hit's face darkened. That wasn't an answer at all.
"...Forget it," he muttered quietly.
Whoosh!
In an instant, he appeared behind Trunks. As a veteran assassin, approaching a target silently was second nature to him. Using the methods he had refined over countless years, Hit carefully raised his hand.
A beam of energy flickered at his fingertips, emitting a chilling glow as it aimed directly at Trunks' neck. With the slightest movement, the lethal beam would pierce straight through his throat.
To ensure the strike landed perfectly, Hit held his breath, his full attention locked onto Trunks. Not a single flaw could be allowed.
His body remained completely still; even the slightest muscle movement was under precise control. For that brief moment, he seemed to merge with the surrounding environment itself.
But while a person could stop breathing through willpower... they couldn't stop their heart. Hidden inside his chest, Hit's heart continued beating steadily.
'Thump.'
'Thump.'
'Thump.'
In the silence, those faint sounds became surprisingly clear. At that moment, Trunks casually glanced to the side. With his extraordinary perception, he instantly noticed something unusual behind him.
A faint heartbeat entered Trunks' ears; it was incredibly weak, barely noticeable, but for Trunks, that was more than enough to raise his guard. Almost instantly, he spun around with lightning speed and threw a heavy punch straight behind him. The attack was as fast as a gale and just as fierce.
When Trunks fully turned around, the first thing he saw was Hit's face, a face overflowing with confidence. Just how confident was he? The moment Trunks turned to face him, Hit didn't even blink.
His eyes remained firmly locked on Trunks as though victory was already guaranteed. Even when Trunks' fist came flying toward him, Hit's gaze never wavered. A trace of amusement even lingered at the corner of his mouth.
Everything about him radiated absolute confidence. It was as if he already knew the punch would land on him, and simply didn't care.
Then, suddenly, Hit's body became transparent. It was as though he had vanished from this space entirely, briefly stepping out of reality itself. That was the source of his confidence; he believed there was no need to dodge because Trunks couldn't possibly hit him.
BOOM!!
A heavy impact echoed through the Space Prison. Hit immediately looked down at his stomach in disbelief. Trunks' fist was firmly planted against his abdomen, in fact, it was still pushing deeper, as though it were sinking into his body.
"H-How is that possible?!" Hit cried out in shock. The more confident he had been moments ago, the more miserable his expression became now, a giant question mark practically appearing over his head. Before he could process what had happened, his entire body was sent flying.
Boom!
Hit clutched his stomach tightly, his body trembling violently as he struggled to rise from the ground. The moment he opened his mouth, a stream of blood burst out.
The crimson blood splattered across the earth, forming a pool beneath him, while some of it turned into a fine mist that drifted through the air like a thin veil of red covering his already dazed eyes.
"You... you..." Hit stared at Trunks in disbelief. "How did you do that?!"
His voice was hoarse, tinged with fear.
"W-Why is my Void Technique completely ineffective against you...?" He gasped for breath between words, unable to understand what was happening.
Meanwhile, Trunks looked just as confused. A moment ago, he had clearly seen Hit's body become blurry and intangible, as though entering some special state.
But what surprised him was how brief it had been. Just how brief? From Trunks' perspective, it had lasted for only the tiniest instant, so short that it might as well never have happened at all.
Hit's body suddenly trembled. "Could it be..." He closed his eyes and carefully sensed the energy within the man standing before him.
Then, abruptly, his eyes flew open. "I... I see now." Realization dawned on his face.
(End Of This Chapter)