After the initial shock subsided, each Z Fighter showed fury at the loss of their comrade.
Piccolo, however, stood as an exception. Though he too expressed anger, his ire was not for Yamcha but rather aimed at him. While he did not harbor any personal connection to Yamcha and wouldn't have shown any sympathy even if he did, the strategic disadvantage resulting from such an unnecessary loss had irked him. They could've stalled by taking their sweet time with the one-on-one matches, but this idiot… damn it!
Despite the pressure from Vegeta's presence, Piccolo surveyed the scene with a calculating gaze. He is the de facto leader of this sorry bunch and unlike them, he can't afford to lose his head.
Climbing to his feet from the aftermath of the explosion that had forcefully blown him back, Krillin clenched his fists tightly, his eyes ablaze with a mixture of grief and fury. The loss of Yamcha had ignited a fire within him, propelling him forward with a yell that echoed across the desolate wasteland. As he charged, his determination to avenge his friend radiated from every fiber of his being.
Piccolo snapped his head towards Krillin. "Stop, you idiot!"
In the end, it wasn't Piccolo's words that halted Krillin, it was Vegeta's.
"Do you want to die?" Vegeta, still leaning casually against the rock, had kept his eyes closed, but the intensity of his tone spoke for itself. "You already had your match. If you wish to tarnish the honor of the subsequent fights, then go ahead. I will end you too."
The moment Vegeta's voice cut through the air, the Saiyan Prince's sheer killing intent materialized like an invisible force pressing against Krillin. Krillin immediately braked and something like the screech of tires on pavement filled the air as his heels slid on the ground at maximum friction, doing their best to halt his advance.
With gritted teeth, Krillin reluctantly took a step back, the fire in his eyes dimmed by the bitter acknowledgment of his limitations. Deep within, he knew that if he had taken another step forward, he would have shared the same fate as Yamcha.
The other Z Fighters, still reeling from the overwhelming power of the Saiyan Prince, could do nothing more than stand there, heads down in uneasy silence from their helplessness.
Assuming command, Nappa swiftly restored order, steering the events back in alignment with his original plan. "Alright, let's keep this moving. Who's going up next?"
Chiaotzu, with his small figure, glided to the forefront, tears swirling in his eyes but his face twisted with anger. Though he hadn't spent as much time with Yamcha as some of the others, the loss had still hit him hard. After all, they had just spent nearly a full year of training together. The unexpected and senseless death of a comrade ignited a deep-seated rage within him.
Chiaotzu's petite form trembled with both grief and fury as he locked eyes with the opposing injured Saibaman. He knew precisely who to take his anger out on. Determination blazed through the tears in his eyes as his form lit up in a storm of telekinetic power. And so, the fight began, if you could even call it that.
Immediately, Chiaotzu took to the skies, simultaneously dodging the Saibaman's initial attack and securing the high ground. Hovering above, he began to channel a powerful Dodon Ray in his small hands, the energy sparking and intensifying.
As the Saibaman lunged upwards in anticipation of an easy strike against the floating warrior, Chiaotzu unleashed a scattering of Dodon Ray with pinpoint accuracy. Each beam shot forth, colliding with the Saibaman's face, torso, and limbs, momentarily halting its ascent. The creature recoiled from the unexpected attack, howling in pain as the energy blast penetrated through its grotesque features.
However, Chiaotzu wasn't done. With a surge of telekinetic force, he seized control of the Saibaman mid-air, manipulating its movements like a puppet on strings. The injured creature struggled against the unseen force, unable to break free from Chiaotzu's iron psychic grip.
In a display of raw telekinetic might, Chiaotzu, his small frame glowing with a blue aura, twisted the Saibaman's neck in a horrifying full 360 degrees. The sickening crack echoed through the battlefield as the Saibaman's body grew limp.
Fueled by his rage, Chiaotzu's aggression surged to new heights. With an abrupt motion, he summoned his telekinetic prowess once more, violently tearing the Saibaman's head clean off its shoulders. The detached head, now a gruesome trophy of Chiaotzu's vengeance, soared through the air before landing with a thud and a bounce at Nappa's feet.
The sudden and brutal execution left an eerie silence hanging over the battlefield. The Z Fighters gaped in silent awe as Chiaotzu turned the tables– no, absolutely crushed, the Saibaman.
Chiaotzu, his hands still raised, snarled.
"How's that for an execution?!"
Nappa raised an eyebrow and whistled, thoroughly impressed at the spectacle. "Fatality! Someone's feeling a little aggressive today. Fantastic finish, midget; you're more powerful than your power level suggests. Next!"
Chiaotzu's face twisted with frustration as he was casually disregarded. Teeth grinding, he drifted back to the group.
Nappa nodded toward Alpha, the sole remaining Saibaman, before turning his attention to Gohan, the last combatant who had yet to fight.
"It's your turn, kid. Show us what you've got."
Gohan had long been dreading this precise moment, where he had to face the Saibaman solo without any allies for assistance or support. He wrang his hands, the shadow of trepidation hanging over him at his debut fight.
At that moment, Gohan felt Piccolo's firm grip landing on his shoulders, his mentor's touch acting as a steady anchor that calmed down the internal chaos that churned within him. He met Piccolo's reassuring gaze.
"Gohan, remember your training and what I taught you. Use your ki sense, don't forget to dodge, and if you do, this will become no different than any of our past spars. Most importantly Gohan, remember that you are not weak."
With Piccolo's words echoing in his ears, Gohan took a deep breath and stepped forward, his eyes focused on Alpha, who had already struck a pose. While residual nerves and a tinge of fear lingered, Piccolo's words had greatly settled his nerves. He positioned himself across from Alpha, adopting a combat stance, though a subtle tremor betrayed his internal turmoil.
Nappa frowned as he observed the entire series of events.
"Hey, you're Kakarot's kid, right?"
"Y-yeah," Gohan nodded.
"You're a Saiyan, where's your spine? Why are you so scared of a fight?" Nappa demanded, impatient and disappointed. Though Alpha was stronger than the average Saibaman, as far as he could tell, there was no significant gulf of power between the two. He just couldn't understand why a Saiyan would have such nervousness about a balanced battle.
"T–t–this is my f–first real battle, M–Mr. Nappa."
"…wait, your first battle ever?" A hint of disbelief crept onto Nappa's expression at the admission.
"Yes…"
"–How? What have the Namekian been teaching you all this ti– wait, what did you call me?"
"M–Mr. Nappa?"
At the confirmation, Nappa appeared to momentarily space out, his eyes losing focus as if caught in memories. After a brief moment, Nappa abruptly blinked, snapping himself out of the momentary trance and lightly shaking his head.
"...It's been quite some time since someone has called me that," he mused. His eyes regained their full clarity, and he tilted his head as if only just realizing he was looking at something fascinating. "What's your name, kid?"
"G–Gohan."
"And how old are you, Gohan?"
"I–I'm five, Mr. Nappa."
"And yet, without a single battle to your name, at the age of five, you're already just as, if not more, powerful than Raditz. What potential," Nappa remarked, his tone shifting from stern to contemplative. He studied Gohan intently, his fingers stroking his chin as he assessed the young boy before him, nodding approvingly. Turning his attention back to Alpha, he issued a new directive. "Alpha, this is no longer a deathmatch. Don't hold back, but don't kill him either."
The change in Nappa's tone and instructions caught everyone off guard. Even Alpha was surprised, turning to look at Nappa with an incredulous expression. Behind Gohan, Piccolo's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he attempted to decipher Nappa's intentions.
Despite being taken aback by the unexpected change of rules, Gohan couldn't help but feel relief as he took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He knew that nothing had truly changed and he still couldn't afford to let fear paralyze him. He could feel Piccolo's stern gaze on his back, and Gohan found solace and encouragement in the knowledge that his mentor believed in his capabilities.
A short distance away, Vegeta lazily opened one eye, his eyebrows raised as he observed the shift in the status quo.
Nappa, arms crossed, prepared to pay considerably closer attention to this battle than the preceding ones. "Begin when ready."
Drawing on the ingrained lessons from his training, the young Saiyan charged his ki, the energy enveloping him crackling in a manifestation of power. Gohan's eyes gleamed with determination as he and Alpha launched themselves at each other, the first strikes exchanged with a blur of speed.
Gohan, despite his initial fear, showcased remarkable agility, his small form dodging and weaving around Alpha's attacks with nimble movements. Alpha, visibly frustrated by his elusive target, grew more aggressive, launching a flurry of strikes and kicks that forced Gohan to focus on defense.
Piccolo, watching closely, recognized that Gohan was falling into old habits.
'Gohan, counterattack!' he telepathically urged, reaching into the young Saiyan's mind.
Upon hearing Piccolo's voice echoing in his mind, Gohan hesitated for a moment before gathering his resolve and seizing an opening with newfound determination. As Alpha lunged forward with a powerful kick, Gohan ducked beneath the attack and swiftly retaliated with a well-placed punch to the Saibaman's midsection.
To Gohan's shock, Alpha tanked his strike like a champ, barely wincing. Gohan's lips formed a grim line as he twisted to avoid Alpha's subsequent strikes, occasionally countering with blows of his own as the fight continued.
As Piccolo witnessed Gohan continue to execute well-timed counterattacks, he couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment and, dare he admit it, imperceivable traces of pride. A year ago, Gohan had been a pathetic, useless crybaby, but under Piccolo's guidance, he had evolved into a warrior capable of holding his own against foes of Raditz's level.
The current Gohan, Piccolo mused, would be able to effortlessly shred both Piccolo Sr. and the younger Goku to pieces, even if they faced him together. If Gohan had a little more combat experience, he might be able to replicate that feat with Piccolo and Goku of a year ago. One year, that was all it took. Piccolo smirked. God, he's so f*cking good at teaching. He can see why Kami is into this shit.
After a while, Alpha suddenly stopped the fight, putting an end to its attacks. It paused in mid-air a slight distance away as if frozen in time, prompting Gohan to stop as well, confused at the sudden change. Alpha started to slowly drift toward Gohan, devoid of any aggression and without any combat stance, its arms loosely hanging by its side.
Though he was well aware of the acid tactic that was employed against Yamcha earlier, Gohan had no idea whether this unpredictable change in behavior was the beginning of a similar strategy or the precursor to something else. With mounting nervousness, he maintained his defensive stance, warily watching as the Saibaman drew nearer.
Alpha came to a halt just a foot away from Gohan, staring into Gohan's eyes. Out of nowhere, Alpha feigned an aggressive move with a mischievous grin, causing Gohan to involuntarily flinch in response. However, it was nothing but a small feint, a mere illusion of an attack more fitting on a playground bully.
In the split second when Gohan's guard was down at the realization that he had been punked, Alpha abruptly and unexpectedly bitch-slapped Gohan across the face.
The audible crack of the slap can be heard all the way on the ground, reaching the stunned Z Fighters and Nappa, even catching Vegeta's attention. Gohan staggered back in the air, holding his cheek in surprise and confusion.
As the young Saiyan stared in shock, the Saibaman grabbed Gohan's hand, and skillfully molded it into a fist before bringing Gohan's clenched fist toward its own hideous face demonstratively, as if showing 'Look, this is how you throw a punch'. Alpha released its grip on Gohan's hand with a disgusted flourish, giving the young Saiyan a dry, half-lidded look as it floated backward, shaking its head in disappointment.
Gohan's eyes twitched as he rubbed his stinging cheek, embarrassed and indignant as anger bubbled up from within him like a geyser. He knew how to throw a punch, for Kami's sake! Mr. Piccolo had taught him that much, and he did not need to be patronized like this by some, some– Gohan struggled to find an appropriate insult –unripe onion!
Fueled by his frustration, Gohan re-engaged Alpha in a fierce battle, streaking through the air with a resounding bang. The intensity of their confrontation escalated, each movement leaving dynamic afterimages in the air.
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