Lux hovered in the shattered sky, his green skin slick with sweat and streaked with burn marks. His breath came in ragged bursts. Across from him, the silver Great Ape stood motionless, its hollow yet piercing eyes glimmering faintly under the dim starlight.

A chill ran down Lux’s spine.

“What… what kind of monster is this Saiyan…?”

Only the gods could understand the torment he had endured today.

When the battle began, Lux had been certain it would be a simple job.

A mere Great Ape—its power level not even reaching twenty thousand. No matter how ferocious or wild it appeared, with his own power level of thirty-five thousand, he had expected an easy victory.

But reality had mocked him.

The silver beast before him had not only endured his full-powered assaults, it had steadily grown stronger the longer the battle dragged on—defying every rule of energy balance Lux knew.

And now… that aura.

It was suffocating, heavy, and violent—like a sun gone mad.

If someone told him that the creature’s power level had exceeded one hundred thousand, Lux would have believed it without hesitation.

He had been fighting this monster all day, and he was exhausted, his body and spirit stretched to their absolute limits. Yet the Saiyan still moved with terrifying vigor, its presence only growing sharper—its energy multiplying again and again.

Lux’s mind teetered on collapse. The fear clawing at him was not just physical—it was existential.

This was no longer a battle. It was a nightmare.

— — —

From high above, Kyūjō watched his opponent’s trembling posture. Lux’s hunched frame, his strained breathing, his fading aura—it all told the same story.

“…So he’s finally reached his limit?” Kyūjō murmured softly.

He exhaled a long sigh, his silver-furred chest rising and falling like a mountain of steel.

Truth be told, he wasn’t surprised.

The Namekian pirate leader had done well. His power was formidable—enough to push Kyūjō to the brink. But even so, to expect more from him now would be unreasonable.

After all, Kyūjō’s own strength had skyrocketed from 19,000 to over 110,000 since the start of this battle. That leap alone was beyond anything he’d anticipated.

A grin tugged at the corners of his massive muzzle.

He hadn’t just adapted—he had evolved.

The Saiyan physiology’s growth through battle was common knowledge, of course. But this rate of evolution… this explosion in power… it went beyond even Saiyan logic.

Something deeper was happening inside him.

He could feel it—the spark of awakening buried within every cell of his body.

It was as if a hidden switch had been flipped, one that unlocked a new biological mechanism. His blood surged hotter, his senses sharper, his every fiber trembling with primal vitality.

It wasn’t just energy—it was metamorphosis.

And in the archives of Dragon Ball’s universe, there was only one explanation for such a phenomenon.

The overproduction of a special cell found only within the Saiyan race—

The S-Cells.

— — —

What Are S-Cells?

S-Cells are the biological foundation of Saiyan power.

The higher their concentration within a Saiyan’s body, the stronger that Saiyan’s affinity for combat becomes.

Their personality changes as well—becoming more aggressive, more violent, more instinct-driven.

In essence, S-Cells are the very core of Saiyan ferocity—the source of their overwhelming battle instincts and potential for transformation.

But does that mean more S-Cells automatically make a Saiyan stronger?

The answer… is both yes and no.

Because it depends entirely on one crucial factor—

the ability to control oneself.

A Saiyan who cannot master the rage, bloodlust, and primal urges awakened by excessive S-Cells will inevitably lose themselves to madness.

Their strength may skyrocket—but their mind will vanish.

They become beasts—slaves to their instincts, fighting and killing endlessly without reason.

Of course, that unrestrained violence often triggers faster evolution. Some Saiyans in history achieved the Super Saiyan transformation far earlier because of it.

But it came at a cost.

Their power no longer belonged to them.

They belonged to their power.

Among all recorded Saiyans, only one ever truly embodied that path—

the Legendary Super Saiyan, Broly.

Born with a power level exceeding ten thousand and blessed—or cursed—with an astronomical number of S-Cells, Broly was a walking embodiment of raw Saiyan nature.

A god of destruction wearing mortal flesh.

— — —

Why Are Earth-Born Saiyan Hybrids So Talented?

The answer is simple: their blood is mixed.

The fusion of human DNA with Saiyan biology produced a new generation of warriors with unmatched potential—individuals who surpassed pure-blooded Saiyans in both growth and emotional balance.

Take Son Gohan, Trunks, and Goten for example.

All of them could transform into Super Saiyans before the age of ten.

The secret lies in their human hearts.

Unlike their Saiyan ancestors, these hybrids possess calmer minds, steadier emotions, and greater self-control. Their mental stability allows them to harness and awaken their S-Cells with astonishing speed.

That’s why their transformations come naturally—effortlessly.

But there’s a trade-off.

Because of their gentler human side, their battle drive isn’t as strong as that of pure-blooded Saiyans.

Most hybrids lack the burning obsession that defines warriors like Goku and Vegeta—that endless hunger to train, to fight, to evolve.

Without that relentless desire, even their immense potential eventually stagnates.

They may inherit the gift of power—

but not always the will to master it.

And in the end, that’s what separates the gods of battle…

from those merely born with the blood of one.

If Kyūjō’s Saiyan body had once been considered merely average in talent, that was no longer the case. Now—both in potential and in the density of S-Cells flowing within him—he had already far surpassed Vegeta at the same point in time.

Of course, a Saiyan’s S-Cells could continue to grow over time—through constant battle, training, and emotional maturity.

But reaching the perfect harmony between S-Cell saturation and mental equilibrium was something only a handful of individuals in all history had ever achieved.

One of them… was Son Goku.

He loved fighting, yes. He delighted in meeting powerful opponents and crossing fists with them. But beyond that, he possessed a heart that was pure and a soul at peace.

The reason he could keep breaking through limits again and again, rising above every warrior before him—Kyūjō believed—was not simply due to his Saiyan bloodline or innate talent.

It was because of one man.

The martial arts master of Earth—Master Roshi.

Kyūjō could still recall Roshi’s core philosophy, the one he had imparted to his disciples:

> “Train hard, study well, play happily, eat heartily, and rest properly. Living joyfully every day is also part of martial arts training.”

And Son Goku embodied that teaching perfectly.

A Saiyan who could live life with such balance—how could his soul not be calm?

How could his heart not remain pure?

— — —

As for Kyūjō himself—having once stood among the apex fighters of countless multiversal realms—mental stability and spiritual maturity were hardly issues.

If his mind hadn’t been stable, his thousand-year journey through brutal worlds and endless wars would have driven him insane long ago.

Now, the only thing standing between him and the Super Saiyan transformation was raw physical accumulation—

and, of course, a sufficient density of S-Cells.

What Kyūjō didn’t yet realize… was that his path toward that legendary destiny had already begun to open.

— — —

At that moment, he felt a strange, indescribable intuition—

that his combat power would continue to climb endlessly over time.

Not slowly… but rapidly.

And, more importantly, without any limit.

The only question now was—

just how far could his strength grow?

Kyūjō shook his head, dismissing the thought, and refocused.

Towering high in his silver-furred Great Ape form, he raised his voice, speaking in the universal language used throughout the Dragon Ball cosmos:

“Answer me, space pirate. Are you a Namekian? If you can take me to Planet Namek, I might consider sparing your life.”

Lux’s expression changed instantly. His pupils contracted, his features sharpening with sudden fury.

“So… you know about Planet Namek too?” he spat. “Hmph… Don’t tell me you’re after the Dragon Balls as well?”

Kyūjō’s mouth opened to respond—but Lux didn’t let him.

“You damned Saiyan scum!” the Namekian roared, his face twisting into a snarl. “Don’t expect me to tell you anything about Planet Namek!”

The moment the words left his mouth, Lux’s body began to expand violently.

A wave of chaotic, destructive energy erupted from within him—so powerful it threatened to rip apart the planet’s very core.

To protect his homeworld, the leader of the galactic pirates—Lux—chose self-destruction. He would sacrifice everything, dragging Kyūjō and the entire planet into annihilation along with him.

But—

Before his energy could reach critical mass, a blue beam streaked across the sky.

In a single instant, Lux—the warrior with a battle power of 35,000—was erased from existence, vaporized into dust by a single energy shot from Kyūjō’s fingertip.

The massive Great Ape slowly lowered his arm, gazing up at the empty blue sky that moments ago had almost become a graveyard.

A faint sigh escaped his lips.

“What was that Namekian so afraid of…? Couldn’t he at least let me finish talking?”

All Kyūjō had wanted was to go to Planet Namek and collect the Dragon Balls—nothing more.

He wasn’t Frieza. He had no intention of destroying planets or killing without cause.

And yet, seeing Lux’s desperate reaction made him question himself for a moment—wondering if he really did look like some galactic villain straight out of an old space opera.

‘No,’ Kyūjō thought with a frown. ‘That’s just the Saiyans’ reputation across the universe. Definitely not my fault.’

He steadied his breathing, then deactivated the Blutz Wave flow entering his body.

Immediately, the enormous silver-furred Great Ape began to shrink, his massive form collapsing inward like a deflating balloon.

In seconds, Kyūjō had returned to his original body—

that of a three-year-old Saiyan child.

After experiencing and mastering the transformation firsthand, controlling the blood of a Saiyan was hardly difficult—especially for someone like Kyūjō, whose mental discipline had long since reached a divine level.

At this point, he could even create artificial moonlight from his own hand, just like Prince Vegeta had in the original story.

He could choose when to transform, or resist the change entirely, even under a real full moon, by directly blocking the Blutz Wave flow.

It was proof of the absolute control he now held over both body and power.

— — —

Now, under Planet Arant’s clear sky, Kyūjō stood naked—his small childlike body shimmering faintly in the sunlight.

His base combat power had risen dramatically.

From 1,900, it had now reached 11,000 in his normal form.

And when transformed into a Great Ape, that number multiplied tenfold—to 110,000.

This was the might of Zenin Kyūjō at only three years old.

And the most terrifying part was…

he was still growing.

With no sign of hitting a ceiling—

not for a very, very long time.

— — —

Channeling his Ki, Kyūjō shot upward into the sky at full speed—completely unconcerned about his lack of clothing—as he aimed straight for the pirates’ mothership.

If he was even a second late, they would escape.

Inside the ship, chaos reigned. The crew had witnessed their leader vanish into thin air—erased by a single blast.

Of course they wanted to run. Who wouldn’t? Facing that monster again was suicide.

But Kyūjō wasn’t about to let them steal his ship.

Especially something as valuable as a functioning space cruiser.

Spotting the vessel slowly rising from the ground, its thrusters glowing as it prepared for launch, Kyūjō accelerated, his small body wrapped in a golden aura as he pierced the sky.

He reached it just in time—grabbing hold of the ship’s rear hull and yanking it downward with raw physical strength.

The massive craft screeched as it was dragged back to the surface.

— — —

After subduing the surviving pirates, Kyūjō finally put on a set of battle armor, thus ending what he jokingly dubbed his “Naked Adventure on Planet Arant.”

He then began sorting through the crew, scanning each member’s data to identify their skills.

Technical and logistical personnel would live—to operate the ship.

The rest? Their fates were yet to be decided.

He turned toward the thirty-odd combatants still trembling before him and spoke in a calm, even tone:

“Your leader is dead. I killed him.”

“From now on, I’m your new commander. Those who wish to follow me, stay where you are. Those who don’t—step forward.”

A long silence followed.

Then, without another word, Kyūjō lifted one finger… and fired.

A beam of energy pierced the skull of a crocodile-faced alien before it could even flinch.

The corpse hit the ground with a thud.

Kyūjō’s expression didn’t change.

“He was too ugly,” he said lightly. “I don’t like ugly things.”

“And honestly… all of you are trash. Do you really think you have any worth?”

The remaining pirates froze, their blood turning to ice.

In that moment, the child standing before them—small, calm, yet radiating unbearable pressure—felt more terrifying than even Frieza, the so-called Emperor of the Universe.

He was a monster in a boy’s body, his power beyond comprehension, his mood unpredictable.

Kyūjō watched them quietly, his eyes cold.

For men who had slaughtered the entire population of Planet Arant, mercy was not something they deserved.

Had they been completely useless, he would have wiped them all out already.

But as he stood there, his tail flicking lazily behind him, a thought surfaced in his mind—a reminder of who he was.

A Saiyan.

And truthfully, the Saiyan race had destroyed far more planets than this pirate crew ever had.

If he was being honest, Saiyans were little different from the slave traders of the One Piece world—only their “merchandise” was entire worlds.

The number of lives they’d erased across the stars couldn’t even be counted.

That was precisely why Kyūjō had never once considered saving Planet Vegeta, despite having the power to do so.

Because in his eyes, the Saiyan race of this era… truly deserved extinction.

Of course, that didn’t absolve Frieza either.

If anything, that tyrant was far worse—a villain whose crimes eclipsed the Saiyans a thousandfold.

And one day, when his strength was ready…

The first target that Zenin Kyūjō—

The White Shura of the Multiverse—

would erase from existence…

would be Frieza himself.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep