— "I hope this works, you stinky old man."
Boiton placed his hand on the panel and inserted the device. It began to emit strange sounds, and from one of the panel's openings a card emerged—bearing his face, his current name, and other details.
Boiton looked at it, took the card, then grabbed the device and stored both. Making sure no one was around, he spoke to Sisly:
— "Mission complete, old man."
— "Proceed to part two," Sisly replied.
Boiton walked deeper into the complex until he reached the last room. Upon opening it, he saw a panel similar to the previous one. He inserted his card, and the system began to beep. After a few seconds, the door opened, revealing several guards sparring with one another. Boiton sighed and moved forward.
One of the guards approached him and explained that this was the training hall. Here, they would test his combat skills and shape him into a true guard. Boiton followed the instructions and fought against different recruits.
A week passed, and he managed to become a guard. During that week, his battle power grew only slightly, but enough to reach nearly two thousand. This impressed the supervisors, who entrusted him with guarding the facilities alongside another guard. Boiton was happy to finally be completing his mission; in his mind, the excitement of saving his loved ones grew stronger.
Upon receiving his assignment, he headed to the king's palace. There, two guards stopped him, asked for his identification, and upon seeing it, allowed him to pass. Entering the castle, he was stunned. He knew this was where his enemy, the King, resided, but he had never expected it to be so magnificent. Thinking of Valentino and Alexander helped him shake off his awe, and he patted his cheeks to refocus. He resumed his path, walking toward the eastern side of the building.
There he noticed a distinct section of the castle. Unlike the central area, this place had fewer colors—mostly a metallic shine with specks of white, yellow, red, and blue. Its doors were made of a glass‑like material with metallic frames. Inside, the differences were even clearer: flying devices, high‑quality recovery pods, elite‑grade incubation capsules, and weapons that looked almost like children's toys, shaped like bracelets with cannons.
This sight triggered memories of his past, and a tear threatened to fall. But quickly, with a swift motion of his finger, he wiped it away so no one would notice.
Boiton tilted his head, took a deep breath, and walked to the guard hall to report. After finishing the paperwork, he was told where he would be stationed. He had to return to the entrance of the facilities, and was informed that guard shifts changed every two hours. This irritated him a little. After his first shift, he contacted old Sisly, who told him to stick to the plan and escape as quickly as possible.
Annoyed, Boiton began scanning his surroundings. He noticed the ventilation system running through the facilities, giving him an idea of how to infiltrate. He kept observing and saw three security cameras nearby, each with blind spots that could be exploited. Determined, the boy contacted Sisly again during his break and told him he was going to proceed with the mission.
On the third day of guard duty, the boy finally saw the perfect opportunity to act. He began to focus, preparing himself to infiltrate and escape at full speed.
— "I must concentrate… it's now or never," Boiton told himself, as he pulled out the devices he had used to raid the technology convoys. He recalled the plan he had devised in his mind and started walking. After a few minutes of moving through the castle, he reached the bathrooms. Deeply focused, he tied a cloth around his mouth to cover his face and put on a black suit over his armor. He condensed energy into a device and hurled it upward, causing a small explosion. Immediately after, he flew into the ventilation system and began crawling.
While inside the ducts, he heard many guards heading toward his location. Alarmed, he crawled faster, following the route toward the research center—but something went wrong.
The duct began to give way under his weight and broke open. He fell painfully onto his backside. As he recovered, some guards heard the noise from the duct. Boiton ran in the opposite direction and collided with another boy.
— "Who do you think you are?! Trash!" the boy shouted angrily, food spilled over him and his face red with rage. Boiton saw that he was wearing high‑class elite armor.
— "Oh no…" Boiton thought, alarmed. "I have to escape!"
He tried to run, but was stopped by a powerful explosion that sent him flying, slamming him into a wall and cracking it. Struggling to his feet, Boiton saw the elite with his hand raised. The blast had burned away the cloth covering his face, revealing his identity. The elite, upon seeing him, began firing more energy spheres.
Boiton activated his force field and repelled some of the attacks. The multiple explosions raised a thick cloud of smoke. Without wasting time, Boiton deactivated his shield and crawled back into the duct. The elite, furious, cleared the smoke with his ki, but saw no trace of the boy. Enraged, he shouted curses like a madman.
Boiton crawled at maximum speed, and once again the duct broke—but this time he landed exactly where he wanted. He realized he had fallen onto something but ignored it, pulling out the device the old man had given him and placing it on the digital screen. Access to the central system activated.
Boiton began copying the data and pulled out the metallic sphere. It emitted a sound like a metal detector, guiding him toward the objective. He moved through the facility as the beeping grew louder and more irritating, until finally he found the chip, encased in a strange field. Without hesitation, Boiton reached in and grabbed it.
The field turned red, and an electric shock surged through him. He screamed, trying to pull his hand free, but with every centimeter the shock grew stronger—until suddenly it stopped. Then his communicator buzzed, and the old man's voice said:
— "Calm down, boy, I'm supporting you."
This gave Boiton a bit of relief. He placed the chip into the metallic sphere, which absorbed it and flew away. Immediately, the room began to tremble with the footsteps of many people. A crowd of guards had arrived. Boiton hid and quickly asked Sisly what to do. Sisly didn't answer his question, instead saying:
— "You must run, now! I don't know how, but people are entering my base—I have to leave, boy. If you escape, throw away your clothes and hide. Don't try to contact me. I'll find you. Take care."
The old man ended the transmission. Boiton shouted in frustration, his eyes burning with fury, his mind imagining ways to take revenge on King Vegeta for trying to hurt everyone he cared about. But quickly he pushed those thoughts aside and focused on how to escape this situation.
From among the crowd, a man stepped forward. He was somewhat muscular, cleared his throat, and spoke.
— "Boy, I am Captain Xion. You are surrounded. There is no way to escape. Surrender or die," said Captain Xion.
Boiton felt the pressure this man exerted on him, and it made him even more tense. He looked around in fear—he couldn't die, not without saving his loved ones. Searching desperately, he spotted the hand cannon and remembered he still had two explosive spheres left. He quickly devised a plan and began to execute it. He grabbed a piece of screen lying on the ground and threw it to the side. The guards fired at it—exactly as Boiton had planned. He rolled across the floor, seized the hand cannon, and fired all its ammunition. The guards were completely caught off guard, and many were injured. Boiton then hurled the bombs at the wall, shattering it into pieces. Without waiting for the guards to recover from their surprise, he flew out and rushed into the high‑class district.
In his escape, he used nearly all his power and felt dizzy from the effort. Quickly, he stripped off his clothes, grabbed a bag filled with trash, dumped the garbage, and ran as far as he could.
Back at King Vegeta's palace, Captain Xion snapped out of his shock and realized the boy had escaped. Furious, he shouted:
— "NOOOOO! DAMN BRAT, IF I FIND YOU, YOU'RE DEAD!" he roared. "Go find him!" he ordered.
The guards rushed out to hunt the boy. Thus began the chase. Boiton ran with all his strength, while people looked at him with disgust, seeing only a filthy street child. He ignored them and slipped into a bar. Inside, no one noticed him. He went straight to the bathroom and locked himself in.
The guards flew everywhere, questioning the citizens. One man who had seen the boy leave the castle pointed in one direction, while a woman pointed in another. The guards split up, following both leads. Eventually, one of them found the boy's discarded clothes and some trash nearby. Intrigued, he followed the faint trail, noticing how water from the garbage marked a path. The trail led him to the bar.
Boiton was terrified. He didn't know what to do. He removed the trash bag disguise and heard someone enter. That person began pounding on the bathroom door. Boiton's heart raced, each blow making him more tense and desperate. The pounding grew louder, then suddenly stopped. His fear was so overwhelming that he cried silently, and when the threat ceased, he only grew more anxious, wondering what would happen next. He heard a dull thud—and then nothing.
The guard entered the bar and spoke with the bartender. The man shook his head, saying there was no brat in his bar. The guard didn't understand where the boy had gone and regretted failing to capture him, losing the chance to earn his captain's respect. He sighed and drank several beers. Hours later, drunk, he staggered to the bathroom and found it locked. Unsteady, he knocked harder, desperate to relieve himself. When no one answered, he grew angry and tried to charge a ki blast. But being so drunk, he didn't notice the bag beneath him, slipped, and failed to release the attack. He collapsed, found the floor surprisingly comfortable, and fell asleep.
Boiton heard the snores and wrinkled his nose at the foul stench filling the bathroom. He slowly opened the door and saw the guard. His heart nearly leapt out of his chest, and he quickly shut the door again. After a few minutes, he calmed down, his energy somewhat restored. He ventured out of the bathroom. Seeing no one around, he felt relief. He washed his face with water and searched for something to cover himself. In one of the drawers, he found an old brown cloth sack used for food storage. Boiton frowned sadly, hoping for something better, but still cut it to make it wearable. Using his ki, he nearly burned the sack, but managed to fashion holes for his arms and head. Luckily, the sack was large enough to reach his knees.
Feeling calmer, he slipped out of the bar unnoticed and searched for another hiding place. Along the way, he saw some boys kicking a little fox. This enraged him, and with courage he rushed in and managed to save the fox. The small animal licked its rescuer's nose, making Boiton smile—but only briefly. One of the boys kicked him hard in the back. The fox grew frightened, but Boiton forced a fake smile and told it to run. He pushed the fox away and took another kick that sent him flying. The fox growled at the boy, but the other attacker kicked it hard, sending it tumbling toward certain death.
Before it could fall to its doom, Boiton used his technique, wrapping the fox in a force field and saving it. Unfortunately, this action drained all his remaining energy, leaving him at the mercy of the boys.
They began to beat him. He tried to defend himself, but in his current state he was no match for anyone—much less for two opponents at once. After a while, the boys stopped, grinning with a chilling smile. One of them grabbed Boiton and slung him over his shoulder.
— "Brother, the animal is escaping," one of the boys said angrily. — "Don't worry," the other replied, "we already have a new toy," he spoke in a malicious tone.
Boiton regained consciousness two hours later, finding himself tied up in another place. One of his eyes was so swollen that his vision was poor, but he managed to see that he was in the courtyard of a wealthy household. He tried to move, but his internal injuries were severe. Even so, he attempted to free himself, only to vomit blood and clutch his stomach in pain. Yet he didn't give up—he began to crawl.
As he dragged himself along, he reached the door of the house. With sheer willpower, he stood and opened it. At that moment, he was met with a kick to the face, then a blow to the stomach, and another kick to the chin. Thus his punishment began again.
Two days of continuous suffering passed. Each time he woke, they beat him nearly to death—so much so that sometimes they placed him in a recovery capsule just to keep him alive, only to torture him again afterward. On the third day, one of the boys struck him with all his strength, sending him flying. Boiton crashed hard against the ground. Exhaustion, fatigue, and his internal and external wounds from the constant torture pushed him to his limit. For the first time, the desire to die entered his mind. He begged for the suffering to stop, to be allowed to rest.
The boys came to his side and beat him again in the street. Because of this, it seemed as though his plea to the heavens was being answered—his vision began to blur, his senses faded, and an inexplicable peace filled his heart. But suddenly the blows stopped. The peace vanished, and pain returned. Harsh reality struck him once more, and his wish was not fulfilled. He felt someone lifting him.
He wanted this, but at the same time, he preferred death over enduring this torment again. He raised his bruised hand toward his neck, but before he could do anything, he saw the silhouette of a different person. This sparked doubt and curiosity.
— "Could it be… they're not going to torture me anymore?" he wondered. For some reason, he felt an inexplicable gratitude. He couldn't understand why. — "Ah… am I dead?" he asked himself again.
He was deeply confused—until he saw something that left him in shock. The silhouette was not a stranger, but Valentino.
Boiton was stunned. Tears streamed down his bloodied face. He tried to say "Father" with his broken voice, but fainted.
… . .
End.