— "That damned Nibock… How I'd love to crush his ugly head," said Alexander furiously, as he mimed crushing something round with his hands. "Stupid ship, stupid S.H.1.R.0 project."
— "Calm down, Alex, this isn't the time for battle. Let's do our work and everything will be fine," Valentino said, trying to soothe his bad‑tempered friend.
While the two friends argued about the situation, Boiton saw the mess and began lifting some rocks to tidy up a little.
Thirty minutes later… The place looked somewhat cleaner, though it still seemed as if a hurricane had passed through. Meanwhile, Valentino and Alexander had been in the forge room for twenty minutes. Boiton wore a thoughtful, reflective expression, his gaze lost out the window, giving the impression that he was staring at something. In reality, his mind replayed the moments when they had faced the elite and how the scientist had threatened them.
— "The scientist mentioned something about the king?" he wondered. "Something doesn't make sense… something's wrong."
While the boy was lost in the dimension of his thoughts, the forge room door opened and a sweaty Alexander emerged. In addition to being drenched in sweat, he was covered with tiny fragments of metal, the size of rice grains, scattered across his body. His combat armor was still in the same condition, and upon seeing Boiton, he approached.
— "Kid, you did a good job," Alexander praised, but the boy gave no reply. This puzzled him, so he asked if everything was alright, but Boiton ignored him again. This irritated the old smith quite a bit, so in frustration he moved the disrespectful child and this time shouted his question: "Boy, are you alright?!"
This snapped Boiton out of his thoughts, and he looked at Alexander. Seeing that he finally had his attention, Alexander spoke:
— "WE HAVE A LOT OF WORK. COME AND GIVE US A HAND, LITTLE ONE." He said in an animated tone, and without waiting for an answer, dragged the boy into the forge.
Elsewhere, more precisely in the main city where all the high‑class reside, stood the great castle of the King at the highest point. This structure was easily distinguished from the rest of the city, as it was situated atop the tallest hill. Its design was the most futuristic on Planet Vegeta, and it boasted the title of the largest building on the entire planet.
Inside King Vegeta's castle, the place was simply incredible. The size of the complex was nearly as large as a professional football stadium. Its decorations were magnificent—portraits of powerful men clad in elite armor adorned the walls. The castle's colors were refined and intense: wine‑colored carpets contrasted beautifully with Mayi blue walls, golden doors added a touch of wealth, and glass chandeliers gave a subtle air of elegance.
In the deepest part of the castle lies the king's chamber. Before entering, there is a massive golden door bearing the king's symbol—the silhouette of the king himself. In the center and along the edges of the door, the outline of a giant ape is displayed.
Inside the chamber, the finishes are even more refined. From the entrance, one can see a red carpet embroidered with gold, guiding the way to a grand throne set upon pedestals of gold and crimson.
On the throne sits an imposing figure, muscular, clad in fine armor. His hair is dark brown, his eyes black, his beard circular in style, and he radiates a suffocating aura. His brow is furrowed in irritation, his expression stern, making him appear furious and somewhat agitated.
— "Nibock! Where is my ship?!" he shouted, striking his throne. His powerful voice echoed throughout the chamber.
After the shout, murmurs were heard, followed by hurried footsteps, and the enormous door opened. Through it entered the one summoned by the king—the infamous chubby man in a white coat, Nibock. The stout man bowed and looked at the figure seated on the throne.
The king glared at him, then lowered his aura slightly, allowing Nibock to breathe. Feeling this, Nibock began his monologue:
— "My king, everything is going as planned. Since you made the request, I have sought out the finest smiths and presented my order. The master smiths are slow, but they are the best." He noticed the king's intense gaze and hurried to calm him. "Oh sovereign, I know there are no excuses for the king, so I ensured they were informed and reprimanded for displeasing our sovereign," Nibock said, trembling in fear as the king once again exerted his powerful aura.
The king, deeply displeased, looked at him coldly and nodded. But moments later, his expression changed upon seeing his son. The boy smiled at him and greeted him respectfully. Seeing the scientist still trembling, the king dispelled his aura and dismissed him with a wave of his hand.
Nibock rushed out toward the exit, not without bowing several times to both the king and the young prince. The king, now smiling happily, began to speak to his son.
— "Prince Vegeta, how did your first royal training go?"
The boy looked at him and replied: — "Father, honestly, they were all just weak insects. None could stand against me, and I even broke new records by killing five Saibamen at once."
The king looked at his son with pride and joy. In a tone of pure pride, he told him that such feats were normal for future kings.
Meanwhile, the scientist Nibock stood outside the palace, his expression agitated and annoyed from having run so quickly. Breathing heavily, he activated his scouter, using it to communicate with someone.
— "What happened there? Weren't you supposed to give me an elite guard of at least 3,400 units?!" Nibock asked angrily. "Are you planning to betray me, Serus?"
The scouter vibrated and emitted a series of beeps. — "It wasn't a normal guard, Nibock. We sent you an elite with more than 3,400," said a distorted voice.
— "Ufff," the chubby man snorted with annoyance. "I hope you take care of it, arrogant fool, or else the king will find out where you've been these last ten years."
The distorted voice gave no reply, and the call ended.
Meanwhile, in Alexander and Valentino's workshop, the sound of hammers striking metal and the hiss of a blowtorch echoed.
Boiton was bored, not understanding why Alexander had asked for his help only for Valentino to send him to repair the facilities, leaving him outside the workshop. With nothing else to do, the boy went to buy materials to rebuild the place. He brought back clay bricks, placed them on the wall, and applied paint. After an hour of hard work, the wall looked almost new, so he did the same with another. When he finished, Valentino came out of the forge and admired his young son's work. Then Alexander emerged and congratulated Boiton. The boy, thrilled, jumped with joy.
After the two smiths praised the boy, they bid each other farewell.
Thus, a month of work flew by in the workshop. Valentino and Alexander continued finishing the project, while Boiton played in the yard. With agile movements, Boiton leapt from place to place, flipping through the air.
The boy, with a calm demeanor, showed a focus different from his usual self. His movements were agile and fierce, resembling the elite he had fought before. He tried to copy the techniques of that warrior, even stopping mid‑air to unleash the same attack.
After five minutes of training, the boy was exhausted, but even through gasps and heavy breaths, a wide smile shone on his sweaty face.
He was happy that his strength had grown and his senses sharpened, because that way he could help Valentino more. In his mind, he replayed the idea of protecting him, his only beloved person. But those happy feelings suddenly vanished, replaced by fear. His senses warned him of imminent danger, his body tensed, and in reaction he released a powerful wave of ki around him, forming an energy shield.
Suddenly, a massive explosion struck his shield. The blast was so strong it damaged part of the forge and burned almost the entire yard.
Boiton struggled to his feet and surveyed the destruction. Cold sweat ran down his back, and dark thoughts filled his mind.
— "I almost died. Does someone… want me dead? Please… not again…"
Thinking this, terror and fear made him tremble. He looked around in panic. His fear grew when he saw a shadow looming above him. His breath caught as the figure approached.
Looking closely, he realized the shadow was taller than him, radiating a strange aura from its body and eyes. Its silhouette glowed in a dim white, revealing the figure of a woman.
The moment their eyes met, Boiton's heart pounded like a drum. An inexplicable terror grew in his chest, and the sense of danger intensified.
Not understanding the stranger's intentions, he asked:
— "Who… are you? Is it you?" Boiton asked with difficulty, his words faltering as if something prevented him from speaking. "And more… important… what… are you… doing here?"
The woman remained silent, which only heightened Boiton's tension. Instinctively, he took a battle stance. Using all his power, he released another burst of energy, lessening the suffocating presence. This allowed him to calm his mind, take a deep breath, and summon courage from within. He asked again:
— "Who are you?"
She remained silent once more, then raised her delicate hand toward her target. Out of nowhere, a large yellow sphere formed in her palm.
Boiton hadn't expected someone so terrifying to come after him. His legs trembled with fear and adrenaline.
Before anything else could happen, Alexander shouted:
— "Princess, what are you doing here?!" he demanded, agitated and terrified. "And why are you aiming at Valentino's ward?"
The girl made a small grimace and pointed toward the forge. Alexander panicked and lunged at her.
But she launched the attack before he could reach her, destroying the entire area.
Boiton watched in pain and anguish. He couldn't believe what was happening, couldn't understand why it was happening to him. In a split second, he wondered if it was fate or a curse—that everyone who helped and cared for him ended up dead. Shock overtook him, and he screamed:
— "Father!"
Alexander saw this and, with great force, hurled himself at the princess. Boiton turned toward the killer and charged at her, but was intercepted by a kick.
— "He'll be fine! RUN, LITTLE ONE! It's your only chance!" Alexander shouted, desperately trying to protect Valentino's child. The boy insisted they fight together, but Alexander, in desperation, pushed him away with his ki, saving him from the princess's swift attack.
— "You must escape!" Alexander cried, throwing something small into Boiton's arms. "They need me—I'll be fine. But you must escape. Go now!"
Boiton didn't understand the situation. Frustration consumed him, and the desire for vengeance grew inside. Even if he didn't know whether she had killed Valentino, the mere fact that Alexander was hurt filled him with hatred. But he knew he would only be a burden against this foe, so he decided to trust his adoptive father's friend. His instincts screamed at him to run and survive.
Before leaving, he glanced once more at the shadow and hurried away. Yet even as he chose to leave everything in Alexander's hands, he couldn't help but worry for the man—and reflexively turned his head back.
When Boiton turned, he saw Alexander fighting the mysterious girl, who was steadily forcing him back and overpowering him. Then the figure struck Alexander with such force that it sent him flying. Boiton saw this, and all the fury within him erupted. Unable to contain his rage any longer, he flew toward her.
But an energy blast stopped him, knocking him away. The last thing he heard were words of encouragement and the phrase "survive." Then everything went black.
When he awoke, everything was still dark. This confused and frightened him; his senses were disoriented, and terror gripped him as voices echoed in his head. But the voices ceased when his focus shifted to the dampness of the floor. Realizing where he was, he noticed the stench all around him. Covering his nose, he touched his face and felt something metallic—remembering that Alexander had given him something. Boiton placed the object in his pocket and held it close to his chest. Whatever it was, it was important, though he didn't know what to do with it. With no idea where to go, he wandered aimlessly.
He walked for a long time in the darkness, hearing only his own tired breathing and the sound of his slow, wet footsteps.
Mental fatigue and exhaustion weighed heavily on him, but sheer willpower pushed him forward.
When the last ounces of strength drained from his body, he glimpsed a faint light. At that moment, his body collapsed.
Falling, he saw he was in the lower‑class district. There was a wooden house surrounded by a small lagoon. Summoning strength from nowhere, Boiton walked toward the shack.
Inside, it was simple. On a clay table sat a plate of food. Without thinking, Boiton entered and began eating from the plate. When he finished, he sat back, satisfied, and struck the table with contentment.
A click sounded, and suddenly a metallic net trapped him. Out of nowhere, a man wearing a strange mask appeared and pressed a button, making the net glow and electrocute the boy.
Boiton screamed in pain and collapsed within the net. His vision blurred, and he fainted.
[NTA: Poor little ugly thing.]
— "Who are you…?" said the voice of an old man.
Boiton began snoring. The old man grew irritated and struck the boy with the staff he held in his left arm.
Boiton felt the heavy blow, which jolted him awake. With a pained expression, he looked toward the source and saw an old man.
The man seemed nearly 80 years old, if his white beard was any indication. His hair was ash‑gray, he wore a scarf around his neck, opaque orange‑tinted glasses on his head, sandals on his feet, and an old mid‑class armor. In his left hand he carried a staff with metallic parts, and around his waist was a white cloth.
The boy stared at the old man for about two minutes before speaking:
— "Who are you, you extravagant old man!"
The elder grew angry at Boiton's remark and pressed the button again. The boy suffered another shock, though weaker and less intense.
The pain clouded his mind, and in delirium he tried to bite the net. That was a mistake.
The current surged through his mouth, burning his skin and reaching his brain, knocking him unconscious.
[NTA: Not again…]
Thirty minutes later, our sparky protagonist awoke. He tried to stand but couldn't—the net restrained him, and exhaustion barely allowed him to stay conscious.
After several failed attempts, he gave up. Fatigue prevented any further struggle, and with no strength left, he simply waited.
When the old man appeared again, Boiton tried to provoke him:
— "Extravagant old man, let this friend go already," he demanded. "Or you'll see my fury."
The elder chuckled, tilted his head, and raised the device, showing the red button. As he commented on the boy's situation, he toyed with his fingers around the button.
— "Sparky, looks like you still need a lesson from this old 'friend,'" he threatened sarcastically, moving his finger closer to the button. "Who are you, and how did you get here?"
The boy's confidence and cheekiness vanished under the solid threat. Remembering the pain, his expression changed, and he quickly tried to stop the old man's actions.
— "Don't do it!" he pleaded, clasping his hands together in a gesture of apology.
The old man looked at him, moved his finger away from the button, and repeated the question. Boiton began to recount everything that had happened, though only partially. The elder sensed something didn't add up in his story, yet was impressed by the imagination the boy displayed.
— "These are pure lies, aren't they? I don't believe in legends, much less in this tale," he said irritably. Then, his expression darkened, and in an audible whisper he added: "I suppose I'll have to kill you."