Once Paragus and the others left the first-floor hall, the place instantly erupted into noise.
"Did you hear what the Galactic King just said? That big shot seems to be some kind of candidate God of Destruction!"
"My god—what kind of monster is that? I've never even heard of him before. Could he really be stronger than Frieza of the North Galaxy?"
"..."
Voices echoed throughout the hall.
Bulma curled her lips. Even though she didn't know who Frieza was, her candidate God of Destruction was absolutely invincible—of that, she had no doubt.
"Broly, are you alright?"
She turned back toward little Broly, only to find him staring blankly at the elevator entrance, lost in thought.
"I—I'm fine."
Little Broly shook his head. The small fists he'd been clenching slowly relaxed.
Seeing this, Bulma grew even more curious. Just what had this child gone through before?
"Hey, weren't you saying you wanted to go—"
Little Broly snapped back to his senses and was just about to speak when
Bulma bent down and lightly tapped his head.
"What do you mean 'hey'? Call me Sister Bulma!"
"..."
Broly's small face flushed red. What kind of weird title is that?
He pouted. "No way."
"I'll ask you one more time—are you calling me that or not?"
"No."
"Then I'm not making you any tasty food anymore."
"Sister Bulma, don't!"
Little Broly panicked immediately.
Hearing him finally say it, Bulma planted her hands on her hips and let out a smug "oh-ho-ho" laugh. Trying to outplay me, kid? You're still too green.
"Come on. Follow me—and make sure you protect me properly."
Bulma took little Broly by the hand and walked forward. Strange-looking aliens surrounded them on all sides, making her more than a little nervous.
"Broly… I still don't really know how strong you are. Can you really protect me?"
"No need to be afraid. None of them are my match. Big Brother Gran told me to protect you. If any of them dare touch you, I'll beat them to death."
"D-Don't… they haven't done anything to us. Let's not be so murderous."
Their conversation reached the ears of the aliens in the hall—and their expressions changed instantly.
Not to mention these two were companions of that terrifying candidate God of Destruction, but little Broly's power had just overloaded and shattered a combat scanner.
With strength like that, who would dare provoke them?
In the blink of an eye, every alien in the first-floor hall fled without a trace, leaving behind utter silence.
Bulma: "..."
She didn't bother with them. Walking up to the front desk, she found—
A receptionist wearing the distinct uniform of the Galactic Patrol, with the head of a rabbit.
"Hello," Bulma said. "I'd like to ask—do you Galactic Patrol people have someone named Jaco?"
But after she asked, the rabbit receptionist didn't answer.
Bulma frowned and took a closer look, only then noticing that the receptionist's entire body was trembling.
"Relax—we don't eat people!"
Bulma pointed helplessly toward the elevator.
"You saw it earlier, didn't you? I'm with your Galactic King. What are you so scared of?"
The words finally registered with the rabbit receptionist.
That… was actually true!
"Y-you really scared me to death, my lady," the receptionist said, patting her ample chest.
"..."
Bulma rolled her eyes and continued,
"So? Do you have a Galactic Patrol officer named Jaco?"
The rabbit receptionist widened her eyes.
"You're looking for Mr. Jaco?"
Bulma looked puzzled.
"What, is he famous around here or something?"
"Yes! Mr. Jaco is an exceptionally sharp-eyed, passionate, justice-driven Galactic Patrol officer. He's very well known among us!"
The rabbit receptionist covered her mouth and giggled, as if recalling something amusing.
"Then where is he now?" Bulma asked urgently.
Her sister had left Earth with Jaco, and even now Bulma had no idea what condition she was in.
"Let me check."
The receptionist accessed the mission system, then looked up.
"Mr. Jaco isn't on assignment at the moment. He's currently vacationing on a planet not far from Galactic Patrol Headquarters."
"Give me his coordinates. Now."
"Y-Yes, my lady…"
Not long after, Bulma had little Broly carry her straight into the depths of space.
They didn't board a spaceship.
They didn't even wear spacesuits.
The sight left everyone at Galactic Patrol Headquarters completely dumbfounded.
So it was true
They really were one of those powerful races capable of surviving in the vacuum of space.
...
Galactic Patrol Headquarters — Technology Tower, Top Floor
This skyscraper rose thousands of stories high. Gran emerged from the elevator at the summit.
The room was a quiet conference chamber. Through the transparent windows, part of Galactic Patrol Headquarters was visible below.
"Lord Gran, your companions have just left headquarters," the Galactic King said from the side.
"No matter. Let them go."
Gran waved his hand dismissively.
At this point in the Dragon Ball timeline, no one in Universe Seven could defeat little Broly—unless some hidden boss decided to show up.
He glanced at Paragus beside him.
After two years in the Galactic Patrol, the man had changed far more than expected.
Still, that wasn't Gran's concern.
As long as Paragus obeyed his orders, that was enough.
"Paragus," Gran asked with his hands behind his back,
"How many Saiyans have you gathered in the past two years?"
"Reporting to Lord Gran."
Paragus straightened.
"There weren't many Saiyans scattered across the universe to begin with—just over a hundred and fifty. Over these two years, I've managed to bring back fifty-three."
"Fifty-three, huh…"
Gran pondered briefly.
"How did you locate the rest of our kin?"
Paragus glanced at the Galactic King, then explained,
"The Galactic King told me about Zuno, the all-knowing being in the universe. So I sought him out and had him reveal the whereabouts of every scattered Saiyan."
"So that's how it was."
Gran recalled Zuno from the original series.
Back then, Bulma had also learned of Zuno's existence through Jaco while investigating the Super Dragon Balls.
"You didn't only find fifty-three, did you?" Gran said with a faintly teasing smile.
"..."
Paragus fell silent for a moment before speaking carefully,
"I actually gathered seventy-two… but nineteen refused to submit, no matter what. So… I killed them."
His voice grew quieter with every word, afraid Gran might blame him.
"No matter."
Gran replied calmly.
"Those who can't be used—dead is dead."
Paragus's head snapped up.
"What? You didn't think I'd blame you for that, did you?"
"…Yes."
Paragus nodded weakly.
Gran chuckled.
"Back in King Vegeta's era, how rare was it for Saiyans to kill their own?"
END OF CHAPTER
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