PART THIRTY SIX: DECEITFUL MAGICIANS

Chapter 176

Translated by npberryhill, edited by Guilarai

Meanwhile.

In the kitchens, chaotic disorder reigned, much to the despair of the Vargas, who could only watch helplessly as the disaster unfolded. At first, everything had started so well. Their willing workforce had followed instructions—some more eagerly than others.

“To begin,” one of the cooks told Son Gohan from Universe 18, “you’re going to chop these carrots. There are thousands of them; you’ll have to put some real effort in.”

“Don’t you have a machine to do that?” the Saiyan exclaimed.

“Are you kidding me? You don’t understand a thing about haute cuisine! The art of cooking is in the tips of your feathers—it’s a delicate caress with the tips of your claws, treating ingredients with gentleness and respect! And also… we might have broken the machine from overload…”

Son Gohan raised an amused eyebrow as the Varga regained his composure after a brief lapse.

“Anyway!” he continued. “Do as I told you. The sooner you—” A light gust of wind brushed the tip of his beak like a whip crack. He couldn’t have known that thousands of movements had just flashed before his eyes in an instant.

“…start… Uh…” On the table in front of him lay the thousands of carrots, freshly sliced into perfect, even pieces. Chopped in less than a second.

“And then?” Son Gohan asked, his tone all feigned innocence. The Varga nearly lost a few feathers. How could such a thing be possible? He knew the warriors from the participating universes were incredibly strong and fast, but this guy was just a spectator! What kind of forces of nature existed in these worlds?

While he was busy directing Son Gohan—and now his wife, who had just joined them—their daughter, along with her Universe 16 counterpart, was busy cooking various vegetables in a huge tub of hot water under the watchful eye of a kitchen assistant.

“Your pot is huge!” exclaimed Pan from Universe 18.

“Well, we had to improvise... This is actually,” she paused, giving nervous laughter “...our jacuzzi—we slightly repurposed it from the break room…” admitted the Varga, her expression betraying growing depression. “We had to make do somehow.”

The two Pans looked at each other and giggled. Without a doubt, they were now the best of friends across all the universes. They were, in fact, the same person, but the divergence between their two worlds was enough for them to feel distinct from one another. But one of them wasn’t taking it so well.

“Hey, Pan…” the one from Universe 16 said, “…what’s life like with Grandpa Goku?”

“It’s really great!” the other Pan replied cheerfully. “I’m learning so much with Uub and Uncle Vegeta, and Grandpa is a fantastic teacher! Dad encourages me to get stronger, and Mom isn’t too strict about it—she even trains with me!”

“Sounds nice…” said Pan from Universe 16 with a sigh.

“What’s wrong?” asked her counterpart, startled by the sad expression.

“It’s just… I don’t know, when I see you and everyone from your universe, you all give the impression that everything’s fine, that you’ll never have any problems. At home, Grandpa Vegetto is a hero throughout the universe and handles all the problems, and my parents are amazing, but… I didn’t realize everything that was wrong because of Son Bra…”

“Hey!” Pan from Universe 18 reacted, grabbing her by the shoulders. “You heard it like everyone else—it’s not her fault! It’s that magician’s fault. He already controlled Uncle Vegeta before, and he hurt a lot of people who didn’t do anything wrong! Your Bra is the same!”

“Maybe, but… I’ve been hearing Grandpa complain for a long time about how she causes problems, how Grandma Chichi gets annoyed when she listens to him, and what we saw earlier…” She started crying over the Vargas’ jacuzzi. The kitchen assistant squealed, worried tears would get in the food. Pan from Universe 18 gently took her friend and led her aside, under the watchful eyes of the two parents from Universe 16.

“It’s going to be hard for her to move on,” Videl observed bitterly.

“She’s still just a child,” said Son Gohan. “Son Bra was her hero, and Babidi destroyed everything she represented to her. I hope that piece of garbage ends up in hell back home.”

“What are we going to do, Gohan?” his wife asked. “Vegetto’s not wrong. If your half-sister loses control again, things could end very badly for us. Can’t you feel the tension here? Everything is falling apart, and… I’m frightened…”

“It’ll be alright,” Son Gohan said with a smile. “Son Bra has always had a good heart; we all were just approaching her the wrong way. I can see it in her eyes now—she understands. We’ve all messed up, we’ve all made mistakes, I know what I’m talking about. Vegetto knows it too. It will take time, but Pan will understand that too. She needs to grow up.”

Videl smiled slightly and rested her head on her husband’s shoulder. She trusted his words. If their universe possessed a marvel of purity, it was this man. She couldn’t dream of a better partner, no matter which universe she found herself in.

A few meters away, Son Goku from Universe 18 was happily cooking alongside his son, Son Goten. Although he had focused his attention on his student Uub and his granddaughter for the past ten years, Son Goku had made it his mission to make up for lost time with his second son.

He had missed his birth, and their first real meeting had quickly gone awry with the resurrection of Majin Buu. The Saiyan already regretted that Son Gohan’s innocence had been taken from him too early in his youth, and Son Goten had also experienced tragic events. He wanted to be there for him, and for his family. Looking back on his life, he was happy with the person he was now. The peace in their home had never been so beautiful.

While they cooked, he and his son laughed happily. Son Goten was amazed by his father’s culinary skills.

“I take it back,” he said, watching his father cook a huge fish over the grill. “I didn’t think you’d know how to handle food. I’ve never seen you do it—Mom always does the cooking!”

“Your mother is the best cook I know,” Son Goku replied with a smile. “As for me, when I lived with your grandfather, and after he passed away, I always fished for myself in the waters of Mount Paozu, and I had to fend for myself. I can cook, you know… in my own way.”

“You proved me wrong, and I’m glad,” his son said happily. “I’ll try it then!”

He and his father each took a slice of fish and devoured it greedily. But while Goku was enjoying his meal, his son started spitting and grimacing in disgust.

“It’s… disgusting.”

“Oh, like I was saying, Chi-Chi is way better than me!”

“But like, you realize you didn’t prepare the fish right?”

“Prepare it, what do you mean?”

“Ugh, Dad! You cooked it with the guts still inside! You didn’t even clean it!”

“Well, a fish comes straight from the water, so wait... wouldn’t that make it clean already?”

“No! And what was that super bitter taste? Was it bile oozing out? Yuck, I’m going to throw up… Dad, you’re not supposed to eat everything in an animal!”

“Of course you do! And everything in the fish is good!”

As they went on, the Saiyans of Universe 13, for their part, were making life difficult for the cooks around them. Especially Kakarotto, unsurprisingly.

“We’re going to prepare a large portion of meat and sauces,” a Varga told him, opening the freezer. “For that, we’ll gather all the ingredients. First, take a piece of meat.” Kakarot helped himself to the appliance and removed a large, frozen leg of lamb. He examined it, perplexed. He had never seen frozen meat before. He had always hunted fresh game, or else helped himself to other people’s pantries. This strange cold temperature on food was curious. But why not?

“Now, we have to take it to the—” Before the Varga could finish his sentence, Kakarot took a big bite out of the block of ice. The Varga’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. The Saiyan chewed with a loud grinding noise that made everyone around turn around, stunned by the scene.

“It… It needs to thaw!” the Varga shouted.

“Meh, it’s fine,” the Saiyan said. “It’s not bad like this.” He walked off with his catch, leaving the cook speechless. A little further away, Nappa, on the other hand, was thoroughly enjoying himself. He had always hidden it, but his great passion was cooking. Although he was a true Saiyan at heart, brutal and impulsive, he had acquired this fascination for gastronomy on one of the worlds they had invaded, when they were under Frieza’s rule, and Vegeta was just a young prince. The battles and conquests had left Nappa little time to indulge in this simple pleasure. Under Vegeta’s rule as emperor, it was even worse. Today, he was being given the opportunity to showcase his art and talent! He didn’t even have the slightest thought of violence in his mind; he fit in perfectly with the Vargas’ team. Only, they didn’t share the same vision of gastronomy…

“There you have it!” he said, adopting a proud air, holding a plate in his hand. “I present to you the sirloin steak: with a thick slice of ham around the potato, it looks like a big piece of meat!”

“But we have meat…” said the cook beside him, sounding dejected.

“Tch tch tch! That’s how you save money! Less food is wasted, the customer is delighted, and that leaves even more for us! Admire the ingenuity!”

“I think I’ll call in sick,” the Varga cook lamented.

“Pfft, what a dirty trick!” a voice said nearby. Nappa turned around and saw, with displeasure, the Trunks from universes 18 and 16 facing him.

“What did you say, brat?” he snarled.

“Why stockpile food through trickery when you can produce twice as much? I built a machine that creates meat!” Indeed, next to the two Trunks, a large vat filled with a black liquid was connected to a device with a sliding outlet, from which beef and other types of meat emerged. A Varga examined the viscous liquid and said, shocked:

“Is that… oil?”

“Exactly, it’s the future of the food industry!” Trunks declared proudly. “I’m thinking of opening a branch called Trunkatel; I think it sounds good. I’ll solve the resource shortage by doubling our production!”

“What an idea,” Nappa retorted. “It must be inedible! We’d be better off halving the quantities, or simplifying things and eliminating half the consumers; the other half will be better off!”

“That idea doesn’t surprise me, coming from a space tyrant,” Trunks hissed contemptuously. Lightning flashed in the eyes of the two Saiyans as the Varga cook despaired at the situation.

Just then, an explosion rang out from the other side of the kitchen.

“No fireballs on the oil!!” shrieked a Varga’s high-pitched voice.

To speed things up, Kakarotto had lost his patience and unleashed his energy to cook the food faster. But the device couldn’t withstand the heat from his Ki blast, and a powerful explosion erupted, incinerating the food, the premises, and everyone’s clothing. No one was injured, apart from a Varga suffering second-degree burns.

Chef Etchecoin clapped a hand over his face, exhausted.

“Okay, I understand. Everyone out. We’ll serve you. Get out of here…” He ushered the various universes out and slid to the ground, devastated by the events. Five battles remained, right? Potentially one last meal. Just one more, and he’d be going home. Surely it wouldn’t be so bad…

While his companions were in the kitchen, Universe 13’s Vegeta had gone to Universe 9’s space and was heading toward the Earthlings’ quarters.

He flung open their door and barked, “Where’s Raditz?!”

The Earthlings turned to look at him. They weren’t surprised—they’d been expecting him—but they still feigned innocence, eyeing him warily. Vegeta swept his gaze over them all, lingering for a second on Trunks from Universe 9, who stared back at him in terror. From what he could tell, this offspring didn’t have a single drop of Saiyan blood in him. Despite bearing their name and their face, he had nothing in common with his own sons from Universes 12, 16, and 18. Clearly, Universe 9 had nothing worth respecting. Contempt was all it deserved.

“Answer me!” he pressed. “I know he came to see you. I saw him enter the apartment with you.”

“We told him to get lost,” Kulilin replied, frowning. “We don’t want any trouble with you Saiyans. And especially not with you.”

“In that case, where is he?” Vegeta repeated, his voice growing more aggressive. “He hasn’t left your space. And I don’t see your wrinkled old god either. Where did he go?”

“How should I know? I’m not his mother,” Videl shot back, her tone just as contemptuous. “I can’t stand that old man. He must have gone for a walk.”

“I’ve heard better lies than that,” Vegeta said, clenching his fists.

“Ah, I get it!” Yamcha exclaimed, pointing a finger at him. “He thinks the Old Kai is giving his buddy magical powers without him!”

“He is, isn’t he?” Vegeta fumed. “I’ll tear you all to shreds, you worms.”

“Calm down, Saiyan,” Tien interjected. “Try making a move and the Vargas will send you straight home. Look around—you can see they’re not here.”

Vegeta scanned the room. Indeed, he sensed neither Raditz’s presence nor the deity’s—not in the bedrooms, not in the bathroom. He would have detected their energy if they were anywhere in the apartment.

“You seem to be telling the truth,” Vegeta admitted through gritted teeth. “If you run into Raditz, tell him to come back. I hate it when my subordinates go missing.”

“You can count on it,” Videl said sarcastically.

The Saiyan cursed under his breath and stormed out of the apartments, leaving the Earthlings drenched in sweat.

“Phew,” Bulma exhaled. “That was a close call. And you’re telling me that in other universes, I had children with that cantankerous guy?”

“So it seems,” Yamcha replied. “One might think he did something horrible to you, but in some universes evil has turned to good, and vice versa. This #18, who massacred all of humanity in Universe 14, is a loving mother and Kulilin’s wife in others! This Saiyan, Kakarotto, is a monster, but he’s the hero of his universe in Universe 18! I have trouble imagining Vegeta with Bulma, and yet… there’s still hope. People can change.”

“I confess I’m curious, Mom and Dad,” Trunks called out to them. “I’d like to get to know these universes I’m in. This Trunks from Universe 12—he’s so cool with his sword! Just like Videl!”

“Pfft,” she replied. “The sooner we leave, the better. Even if there are good people, too many universes have fallen. Look at Cooler, or Cell, or Babidi—his ambition knew no bounds! As soon as the tournament is over, good riddance.”

“Speaking of which,” Tien interjected. “Where is that Saiyan and the Supreme Kai? It would be best if we wrapped this up and went home.”

“If I understood correctly, it could take several hours,” Kulilin explained. “The Supreme Kai insisted on completing his ritual. We’ll see what we do after that.”

In the neighboring apartments of Universe 10.

The Old Kai sat with arms outstretched, facing Raditz, who remained perfectly still. They had demolished the wall separating the apartments of Universes 9 and 10, connecting the two spaces. The Supreme Kai had sensed Vegeta’s arrival earlier. He had quickly masked their energies with his divine magic to avoid detection. Now he could complete his ritual in peace; he doubted Raditz’s leader would come searching for him here.

He didn’t need to focus entirely on Raditz to unlock his potential. As long as he concentrated his mystical power within his own body and mind, he could handle other matters at the same time. And he took advantage of this to visualize the arena in real time. The next fight preoccupied him immensely.

It couldn’t be a coincidence. This XXI wasn’t the one he knew, but the powers he possessed were surreal. He had neutralized Vegetto, who had seemed untouchable. His next opponent, Buu from Universe 4, was far better prepared to face magic. He could withstand him—perhaps even defeat him. And at that moment, the Old Kaioshin would have the confirmation he had been waiting for… hoping against hope that he was wrong.