Dragon Ball Roshi

Was this really the same young man Piccolo had crushed underfoot a century ago?

In just one hundred years, Taro had become so fearsome that Piccolo's power now seemed pitifully weak in comparison. Even compared to the gap between Mutaito and himself back then, Taro now stood on an entirely different plane.

At least Mutaito had been able to put up some resistance.

But now\...

Piccolo found himself completely immobilized, suspended in mid-air, ensnared by the enormous white ki hand. The relentless pressure crushed his body, slowly compressing him. Bones cracked one by one, and muscles tore apart under the force. If not for the resilient anatomy of a Namekian, his internal organs would have already been destroyed.

Desperately, he struggled, but it was all in vain. Finally, he resorted to pleading. "Please, spare my life..." His voice was pitiful as he looked down at Taro, the silver-haired middle-aged figure below.

"Spare your life?"

Taro's voice was low as he glanced up at Piccolo, the ripples of the Nine Tomoe Rinnegan swirling in his eyes. His hand maintained the claw-like gesture, controlling the ki construct. He repeated the words, as if weighing them carefully.

Noticing Taro's apparent hesitation, Piccolo hurriedly added: "Do you not know? I am one with the Kami! If I die, the Kami will perish too! And what would become of this world without its Kami?"

It was a calculated gamble on Piccolo's part.

During his century of confinement within the rice cooker, alongside his ceaseless curses against Mutaito and Taro, he had often contemplated his connection to Kami. He theorized that their shared existence might be the reason Kami had never moved to eliminate him, either when Piccolo first descended to wreak havoc or during their separation at the Lookout.

After all, his strength had always been slightly inferior to Kami's.

"Master! He must not be allowed to live!"

Hearing Taro's hesitation, the surviving Muten disciple trembled and dropped to his knees behind his master. Staring at Piccolo's trapped figure, he shouted passionately: "This demon and the monster that accompanied him slaughtered all of our comrades, leaving none alive! Master, you cannot spare him!"

The disciple glared at Piccolo with a mixture of hatred and satisfaction. "You destroyed the school our master built with his own hands, killed countless of its disciples, and now you dare beg for mercy? Such delusion! Master would never forgive you!"

Killing him...

Taro narrowed his eyes.

For a fleeting moment, countless thoughts swirled in his mind.

The first was of Son Goku—his destined disciple. There was no doubt in Taro's mind that Goku would rise to greatness.

His earlier resolve on Korin Tower not to kill Piccolo had been for Goku's future, so that he could face and overcome this challenge.

Then, he thought of Frieza.

Eight years prior, he had considered the faint possibility of defeating Frieza before his full transformation. By utilizing the fortyfold enhancement of his Nine Tomoe Rinnegan, he could amplify his power to half of Frieza's full strength. Combined with a perfectly executed Destructo Disk and Instant Transmission, victory might have been within reach.

And yet...

He hadn't done it.

A martial artist's pride had prevented him from resorting to such opportunistic tactics to claim victory—that was one reason.

But there was another undeniable reason: as someone who had once been a fan of Dragon Ball, Taro had harbored a bit of selfishness. He had wanted to leave Frieza for Son Goku, the Super Saiyan, to defeat two hundred years later.

Similarly, he had previously believed that Piccolo should also be spared.

Yes, previously.

Piccolo, trapped within the massive white ki hand, noticed the subtle shift in Taro's gaze and felt an ominous chill sweep through his heart.

Taro's eyes, glowing coldly with the Nine Tomoe Rinnegan, locked onto the Namekian demon. His outstretched hand began to tighten, fingers curling into a firm grip.

"Must I really keep you alive?" he muttered softly to himself.

"If I let you live now\... am I just forcing the original plot to unfold?"

The pressure within the giant ki hand increased, producing sharp, ominous creaks. Piccolo felt his legs crushed into unrecognizable pulp, but no words escaped his lips. Fear and despair consumed him as the chilling aura of Taro's intent enveloped him completely. He understood—his death was inevitable.

"If you die, will Son Goku lose his chance to grow?"

"And what then? When the time comes, will I have to let Krillin die in front of him for the sake of this so-called plot?"

"How absurd."

It was as though some internal barrier within Taro had finally been crossed.

Taro brushed away the cobweb that had clouded his mind. His eerie, otherworldly eyes—shimmering with the power of the Nine Tomoe Rinnegan—locked onto Piccolo Daimao's terrified and despairing gaze.

The phoenix unfurled its crimson wings and took flight from Taro's shoulder, circling the air above.

***

The Lookout.

Kami stood at the edge, gazing down at the Earth below. His focus was on the royal capital, where Mitsurugi was locked in a ferocious battle with the Red and Black Demon Kings.

"This isn't working... Mitsurugi is holding back to protect the humans still in the city, but those two demons fight without restraint."

Kami's expression was tense as he watched the chaotic battle unfold. Even with his divine power, he could barely follow the rapid exchanges, and the uncertainty gnawed at him.

Suddenly, his chest tightened—a physical jolt of alarm.

He froze momentarily, then quickly realized what it meant.

"Piccolo Ki... it's weakening. Someone is killing him!"

Kami's gaze snapped to another location, his composure shaken. Given the situation and the threat to his own life, panic crept in. Feeling Piccolo ki diminish more and more, Kami strode anxiously to the other side of the Lookout, his brow deeply furrowed.

"It must be Taro. Among the martial artists left in this world, only he could subdue Piccolo Daimao."

Yet as his divine senses observed, Kami was taken aback.

"What kind of technique is this? That massive ki hand... such an extraordinary display of precise control over ki. This level of mastery is beyond comprehension."

His gaze fell on Taro's figure, and something else caught his attention.

"His appearance... has changed slightly."

After a moment of conflicted silence, Kami sighed deeply. "What must happen will happen... this is the price of past sins." He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable end.

"But Kami, if you die with Piccolo, the Dragon Balls will disappear! How will we resurrect all those killed by the demons?" Mr. Popo's voice came from behind him, calm but pointed.

Kami's eyes flew open.

---

Piccolo suddenly felt an unsettling surge within his chest and abdomen, a strange pressure building—almost as if... something was about to burst forth.

---

If you can, support me on pa treon:

Pa treon. com/ RightTranslations (No spaces)

Up to 50 chapters ahead on the four novels i am translating.