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Raditz's question caught Harry off guard—he didn't even get the chance to reply before Bardock and Gine burst out laughing.
Of course, they weren't mocking him. It wasn't ridicule at all. They just found Raditz's reaction adorable.
At the same time, though, they were laughing at Harry, too.
He'd always acted so serious, so mature, that they'd gotten used to it. It had started to feel normal.
But after hearing Raditz's retort, they suddenly realized—Harry was only five years old. A little kid acting all grown-up, teasing Raditz like that—it was kind of hilarious, in that "too smart for his age" way.
The laughter completely changed the atmosphere.
Harry, realizing what was happening, started laughing too. Raditz couldn't help but join in.
For a while, the house was full of easy laughter and warm voices.
After dinner, Gine started cleaning up while Bardock headed off for a bath, leaving Raditz and Harry alone.
"So," Raditz said, crossing his arms, "let me see where your power level's at these days, Harry."
He hadn't been in a hurry earlier, with their parents around—but now that dinner was done, it felt like a good time to test things out. Maybe even stretch a little.
"I'm curious about yours too," Harry replied with a grin.
He'd already sensed Raditz's strength through his aura, but readings weren't always precise—best to see the real number.
Both of them flicked on their scouters.
Beep-beep-beep-beep!
Numbers flashed on their visors almost instantly.
Raditz's face lit up. Harry's power level had finally gone up.
"I knew it! You were born with the same base level as me, no way you'd fall behind forever. Looks like you finally caught up! Still—" Raditz smirked, "you've got a long way to go before you reach me. Better keep pushing."
He puffed out his chest, clearly proud of himself.
"If you'd joined me last time I asked, you'd be over four hundred by now."
The hint of arrogance in his tone stirred something complicated inside Harry.
Yeah, Raditz was cocky—but his words weren't mean. Deep down, he really did care.
And that made Harry feel… a little ashamed.
They weren't even real family, yet Raditz still treated him like a brother.
Meanwhile, Harry—burdened by memories of the original story—had never once thought about changing Raditz's fate. Never thought about taking him along when the time came.
The realization hit him hard, leaving him dazed for a moment.
But he shook it off. Now wasn't the time for that.
"I'm not like you," Harry said calmly. "Uncle Bardock's right—even if we're both elite-class warriors, you've got your own path to walk, and I've got mine."
Then he added with a faint smile, "Your power's up to 550 now. Guess you've been training pretty hard lately."
Raditz shrugged, but there was pride in his voice. "Yeah, something like that. I'm not the only one around Prince Vegeta, you know. If I don't stand out, they'll think I'm weak."
It was honest—and it said a lot.
Raditz's life wasn't easy either. But he didn't seem to mind. His world was small, his loyalty absolute. For him, being a Saiyan meant serving his prince.
Vegeta was the future king, and Raditz's dream was simple: grow stronger, and someday become the prince's right hand.
"Getting stronger's good," Harry said quietly, "but don't lose sight of who you are. You're surrounded by elites—you know what I mean."
Anyone with real intelligence could understand how easily people changed under pressure. Even adults did.
Raditz snorted. "You don't have to tell me that! I know what I'm doing. Anyway—how about a match? Just for fun. I'll keep my power down to your level. Call it… a post-dinner workout."
There wasn't a hint of guile in his voice—just pure confidence.
"A sparring match, huh? Sure," Harry agreed easily.
He usually trained alone. Sometimes he'd visualize opponents to fight in his head, but real combat opportunities were rare.
Living among lower-class warriors meant no one dared challenge him. And adults weren't about to fight a five-year-old, no matter how strong he was.
"Let's head out," Raditz said with a grin, standing up. "Can't exactly cut loose in here."
Harry nodded and followed.
They let Gine know where they were going, and once she gave her okay, they stepped outside to the open field beyond the house.
There weren't many Saiyans on this side of the planet. Maybe two thousand lower-class fighters lived in this region, but on a world this vast, that still felt like nothing.
"Alright, Harry!" Raditz called, planting his feet wide. "Come at me with everything you've got!"
He stood there with his hands on his hips, making no effort to defend or attack—clearly convinced their gap in strength was too big to matter.
And honestly, it was.
A power level of 360 versus 550—that wasn't just a difference, it was a chasm.
Among Saiyans, even a gap of twenty or thirty points could be decisive. A hundred? You might as well be fighting a wall.
"Then don't say I didn't warn you," Harry said with a faint smile.
He steadied his power at exactly 360—no higher. This wasn't about winning or losing. He just wanted to test his combat sense, his reflexes.
If he had to throw the match at the end, so be it.
He lunged forward, body splitting into afterimages as he closed the ten-meter gap in an instant.
A sharp right fist shot straight for Raditz.
Raditz didn't flinch. Calm and confident, he raised his arm and caught the punch with an easy block.
Then he countered, driving his own fist forward.
Harry twisted, blocking with his other arm and answering with a counterpunch of his own.
Thud!
Their fists collided—small, solid impacts echoing in the open air—as the two Saiyans locked into a test of strength.
"Not bad," Raditz said with a grin. "You're stronger than you look. Still a long way to go, though."
That smug grin of his—it always had a slightly wicked charm.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Strength isn't everything, you know."
Instead of pushing harder, he let the force of Raditz's attack push him back, using the recoil to reposition.
Raditz saw the opening and charged, fists and kicks flying in a flurry.
His onslaught came fast—so fast that for a moment, Harry felt a chill run down his spine.
Still, he wasn't panicking.
He'd trained for this. Even without real battle experience, he had memories of another life—and countless imagined fights honed through meditation.
His mind, at least, was ready.
"..."
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