Dragon Ball Z: The Beast Within - CH46

[Escarot – POV]

Returning to this house was… weird.

Not emotional. Not nostalgic. Just weird.

Mostly because I barely remembered the place. And what I did remember wasn’t exactly something worthwhile. Four visits in my entire life, and most of them I was too injured to appreciate the decor.

I stared at the dusty exterior for a moment. The house hadn’t changed—small, cracked walls, faded door, faint smell of blood and rust still clinging to the air. 

Charming, I supposed.

“Well… no time like now,” I muttered.

Okara had gone off to her own little cave, and Garlik was... somewhere trying to haggle over some suspiciously green meat they sold in the market, that looked like Saibaman meat. So I came here alone.

I raised my hand to knock, then said screw it and opened the door.

It creaked like it was in pain. Fitting.

Inside was dim, barely lit by a single overhead bulb. Same mess of gear, old armor, bones scattered around from last night’s diner, and blood, a concerning amount of it.

And then I saw her.

Leaning against a cracked support beam, arms crossed, one foot kicked up behind her.

A saiyan woman. Muscular. Aggressive posture. Wild black hair. A couple of scars across her cheek and chin. Her armor was older than mine, stained with bold, and scratched in too many places to count.

Her eyes scanned me like I was prey. Which was the default setting for all saiyans, apparently.

“You’re smaller than I imagined,” she said, her tone dry. Flat. Not impressed.

I snorted. “And you smell worse than I expected. And I didn’t expect you.”

Her expression didn’t change. Then she barked a short laugh. “Haha! I like this one. He’s got spunk.”

She uncrossed her arms and stepped forward, shoulders squared like she was looking for a reason to fight me.

“You got your father’s look,” she said, jabbing a thumb toward me. “But some of my fire. That’s a good combo.”

Something about her was… familiar, too familiar. Not just in the you look like someone I’ve seen before way. It was in my bones. My instincts recognized her. A kind of echo. But I couldn’t quite put my tail around it…

Her voice. Her presence. Her power—not much of it, barely 1000 if I had to guess—but it tugged at something inside me.

A name surfaced in my mind like it had been dragged from a dark old pit: Tomat.

That name wasn’t from my human memories. That was Saiyan data. The very same information burned into my brain at birth. Mother: Tomat. Low-class soldier. Long deployments. No maternal tendencies.

That’s right.

She wasn’t just a saiyan. She was my mother.

“…You’re Tomat,” I said, squinting slightly.

“Sharp,” she smirked. “Took you a second. Not bad, though.”

“So you’re my mom, huh…” I said, more to myself than to her.

The weirdest part?

I felt… nothing.

No warmth. No hate. Not even curiosity. Just flat indifference. Like being told someone was your third cousin twice removed. Okay. Neat. Moving on.

She caught my expression and narrowed her eyes. “Is that disappointment I hear?”

“Not really,” I said, brushing past her and heading deeper inside. “More like indifference.”

She snorted behind me. “Good. Anything else would’ve been weird.”

The house was exactly what you’d expect from two warriors. Hard walls. Rocks for flooring. No decorations. Training weights in the corner. The whole thing smelled like blood, sweat, and old meat.

“Is Paragus here?” I asked.

“He went to the market. Said something about restocking the freezer. Meat run.”

“I suppose I’ll wait then.”

She moved to a seat across from me, a creaky metal stool that looked one sharp exhale away from collapse.

“So,” she said, trying way too hard to sound casual, “did you complete that mission the King gave you?”

I raised an eyebrow. “You mean the pillow thing?”

“Yeah. That.”

“I delivered it directly to Lord Beerus.”

Her eyebrows lifted for a second—just a second—but that was more reaction than I thought she was capable of. Then she tapped a button on her scouter.

Beep. Whirr.

The number flashed in front of her scouter lens. She let out a low whistle.

“8917…” she muttered. “Shit, boy. You could make General with that kind of power. Or even break into the royal guard.”

I frowned.

It was supposed to be over 9000.

Damn it. My suppression math must’ve been off by a decimal. That’s what I get for trying to calibrate power levels based on feelings.

“You’ve grown fast,” she added. “Paragus is gonna blow a vein when he sees that number, you can kick his ass now.”

“I’m sure.”

She leaned back, folding her arms. “I hope your brother gets as strong as you. If not, you can beat it into him.”

I paused. My brain hiccupped on one word.

“…Brother?”

“Yeah. Born not too long ago. Name’s Broly.”

I froze.

Like literally. Muscles tensed. Breath paused.

Did she say… Broly? The Legendary Super Saiyan? The psychopath who had too much power for his own good?

My mind flashed back to the surge from earlier—the energy spike that made my skin crawl and my instincts scream.

That wasn’t a fluke.

That wasn’t a malfunctioning scouter.

That had to be him.

“I see…” I said carefully, staring down at my hands.

Tomat didn’t seem to notice the change in my voice. Or if she did, she didn’t care.

“He looks a lot like me,” she chuckled. “They still haven’t done his first reading, but if you are anything to go by, it’s going to be big.”

I looked toward the wall. Toward the direction of the nursery. Toward the sleeping giant.

So that was Broly.

A baby born with enough raw power to make me reconsider my entire position on whether or not I was willing to kill a baby.

Still.

Maybe he wasn’t crazy yet…? 

I clenched my fists lightly, just enough to feel the tension in my knuckles.

Tomat suddenly slapped the wall twice. “You want water or something? We’ve got stale rations and meat cubes.”

I shook my head. “No thanks.”

“Suit yourself. You can sleep in the back if you want. Room’s probably still dusty.”

I looked around the house again, then back at her.

“Thanks… I guess.”

She gave a grunt and kicked her feet up on a nearby table, leaning back without a care in the world.

I leaned against the wall, folding my arms.

Brother, huh?

Well.

This just got complicated.

—-------------------------------------------------------

[King Vegeta – POV]

There are very few things in this galaxy that truly unnerve me.

The Cold family is one. Their power, their influence… yes, we kneel because we must, but I do not flinch from them, for one day, I will kill them, and take what’s rightfully mine.

My own people? Of course not. I am King, their master. My will shapes theirs. It is by my bloodline that they serve, it is by my bloodline that they die.

But then… there is him.

Lord Beerus.

As I stepped down the long, echoing hall toward my throne, I knew something was wrong.

The guards were gone. Not fled. Not thrown aside. Gone.

The air smelled… still. Too still. Something was different.

And then I saw him.

Sitting.

On my throne.

As if it were made for him.

That damn silhouette, draped across the seat with the kind of disrespect that would’ve earned any other a million deaths! One leg crossed over the other, tail flicking lazily, eyes half-lidded with boredom.

There was no mistaking the posture.

He wanted to humiliate me!

Before I could even think of reacting, his eyes snapped open.

“Kneel.”

It wasn’t a suggestion. It wasn’t even a command.

It was a sentence. To kneel or to die.

And I obeyed it.

Without pride. Without hesitation. My knee struck the floor with practiced submission.

Because Beerus was not a man. No conqueror, he was a monster.

A god.

A moody one. A temperamental one. But a god nonetheless. And I would rather see my son sold to King Cold than see my planet erased in an instant because I hesitated one second too long.

“My Lord… Beerus,” I said, trying to mask the crack in my voice.

He didn’t even look impressed.

He yawned.

“I came to let you know,” he said, brushing a speck of dust off the arm of my throne, “Escarot already delivered on your promise.”

I blinked.

“My… promise?”

He leaned forward slightly, a grin forming on his face like a knife carving its way across a heart.

“The pillow, you halfwit,” he said, as if I were a child. “The one I asked for. He delivered it. In record time, no less. I knew putting him on that mission was the right choice.”

My blood turned to ice.

No.

He did it? That should’ve been impossible. I made sure of it. I arranged the route myself—cut off every merchant planet that might’ve had access to it. Put him on a wild goose chase that should’ve bought me years, setting him up for failure!

But he’d done it.

Not only that—he went behind my back. Bypassed my authority. Delivered the pillow directly to Beerus, no doubt making me look like a fool in the process.

I could feel the rage boiling behind my eyes, barely held back by the weight of fear sitting on my chest.

Beerus watched me. He knew. Of course he knew.

“You look… disappointed,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement, tail curling like a whip behind him. “Could it be that you didn’t want him to give me the pillow?”

I froze. My breath caught in my throat.

Was this it?

Was this the moment?

“Perhaps,” he continued, almost to himself, “you were planning to keep it for yourself. Handing me a lesser pillow. That would’ve been rude.”

I bowed lower. The stone floor felt cold beneath my hands.

“But, thanks to Escarot,” Beerus said with a smile, “I guess we’ll never know what you actually planned to do.”

His voice sharpened on the last few words. Just enough to dig. Just enough to remind me what he was capable of.

Whis stood behind him, as ever, smiling.

“I’m… pleased, my Lord,” I managed, forcing the words through gritted teeth.

“Hm,” Beerus said, tapping a claw against the throne. “Out of all of you, he’s my favorite Saiyan. No doubt. Not that there’s much competition, of course.”

He stared down at me. A bug under glass.

“What do you think, little king?”

I hated him.

I hated him with every fiber of my royal blood.

But I hated death more.

I gritted my teeth so hard I thought I’d break them. “He’s… the best of us, Lord Beerus.”

The Destroyer’s ears twitched. Then he laughed.

“Ah, now that had to hurt,” he purred, delighted. “Did you taste the bile on that one, Whis? I think I did.”

Whis chuckled lightly. “A vintage year for pride-swallowing, certainly.”

One day.

One day, I would find a way to make this insufferable bastard pay for this humiliation.

But not today.

“There's no shame in seeing the truth, Lord Beerus,” I said, keeping my voice as steady as possible.

“Oh please,” Beerus replied. “You’re better at groveling than you are at lying. That’s something, I suppose.”

He stood, stretching as if bored of the entire affair.

“Come now, Whis,” he said with a lazy flick of his hand. “Time to go. I’ve done my civic duty, made my rounds. Told the peasant king his place. Oh, and—” he paused mid-step. “Do congratulate Escarot on my behalf.”

He said it without even looking at me. As if I were a servant. A courier for his favorite Saiyan.

And just like that, with a ripple of light, they were gone.

The throne was empty again.

My throne.

My palace.

And I remained kneeling on the floor like a dog. Shaking, with fear and rage.

I rose slowly, my fists trembling. Not from weakness. From the sheer pressure of the hatred I held in.

Escarot.

The name tasted like poison.

I had already received the notification the moment he returned—his power reading. Nearly 9,000.

A number that made half my elite guard green with envy. Nothing compared against of course, but still...

He had power. Presence. And now, he had favor.

Beerus’s favor.

Which made him, by all technicality, untouchable.

But even a Destroyer had limits.

And I? I had patience.

Cooler had already made clear his interest in that little brat. He’d requested Escarot to be transferred as soon as he arrived from his mission. And I would more than happily oblige to his request.

I couldn’t kill him. Not without dragging Beerus’s wrath upon me.

But I could assign him.

Ship him off.

Let the Cold family deal with him.

Slowly.

Painfully.

Eventually killing him.

And when they did?

I would smile.

Because the universe is cruel. And the gods may have favorites…

…but I would not allow this disrespect go unanswered!