Dragon Ball Z: The Beast Within - CH40

[Okara POV]

It’s been two days since I last saw Escarot.

Two. Whole. Days.

The bastard disappeared without a word. Again.

I growled under my breath, sitting on the edge of the floating chunk of planet that was now my temporary training yard. I didn’t know what part of the universe we were in, or when we would be allowed to leave this place, but I knew one thing for sure:

Escarot was training without me. And that pissed me off.

“That absolute bastard,” I muttered, cracking my knuckles just thinking about it. “Always sneaking off to get stronger. Always widening the gap.”

He used to say we’d train together. Grow strong together. He made it sound like we were some sort of team, rivals.

Bullshit.

He’d vanish for a week, come back, and suddenly the power difference was ten times larger, that damn fucker. I swear, if I didn’t like him just a little bit, I would’ve already punched a crater through his face. Twice.

But to do that, I had to get stronger than him… ugh!

“One day,” I muttered, clenching my fists. “One day I’m going to surpass him. And then I’m going to knock him around!”

“Oh my, you seem rather agitated,” a voice chimed in, light and singsongy.

I turned to see him.

The weird floaty guy.

The God’s servant.

Whis.

That’s what Escarot called him, anyway. He looked like he should be arranging flowers somewhere instead of hanging around someone as scary as that purple god. He was just… he just didn’t fit, hell, he even walked like the ground wasn’t good enough to touch him.

Escarot said he was strong. Said he was way stronger than us. Than anyone for that matter, but that didn’t make any sense, because if he was stronger than anyone, and anyone included the cat, why was he obeying the cat?

Either way, he didn’t look strong...

Powerful warriors were supposed to be jacked. Built like mountains. Covered in burns, blood, and broken bones they didn’t bother fixing. With cool names like Skull Grinder or Bone King Ultimate Destroyer. Not… Whis.

“Escarot ran off again to train without me,” I finally said, realizing I’d been standing there quietly glaring at him for too long. “That bastard keeps saying he’ll help me grow stronger, but the second I blink—gone. Then he comes back all smug, and somehow ten times stronger than before.”

Whis hummed.

I clenched my jaw. “It infuriates me.”

Whis gave a soft chuckle, covering his mouth like he was trying not to laugh in my face. “So I take it you consider him your rival?”

“Fuck yeah,” I replied, grinning without shame. “He’s the bar. The peak. I don’t care how long it takes, I’m gonna reach him. I’m gonna catch up. And then I’m gonna punch him right in the face and enjoy it.”

Whis tilted his head, still smiling like he was enjoying a cup of tea while watching a building burn down. “At the pace you’re going, I don’t believe you ever will.”

My grin fell flat.

“Excuse me?”

Oh that’s it, I’m punching him!

“It’s just simple logic,” Whis said, examining his nails. “If he trains more efficiently, he learns faster, and therefore constantly leaves you behind while you trail after him doing the same things expecting different results… well…” He looked up at me with a twinkle in his eye. “You’ll always be behind.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it.

Then opened it again.

Then shut it.

He wasn’t wrong… was he?

Damn it…

“I… know,” I finally admitted, dragging the words out of me like broken glass. “But I refuse to let that be! So I’ll train twice as hard!”

Whis giggled. “Or, I could help you.”

I blinked.

“…huh?”

He stepped closer, staff gently tapping the ground as he walked. “Escarot will be occupied for the foreseeable future,” Whis said. “And while he is… well, I could train you. Teach you things that would close the gap between you and him. Perhaps even reverse it.”

My heart skipped a beat.

Was he serious?

Could he do that?

No no, scratch that, Escarot said he was strong, so he could… the question was would he do that?

“You’d do that?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” Whis smiled. “I just… enjoy watching interesting stories unfold. And I think yours has a lot of potential.”

I stared at him.

This might be my shot, my only real shot.

I’d been chasing Escarot’s shadow ever since I met him. If this weird skinny guy was actually as strong as Escarot said he was, then training with him might be my only chance to really close the gap.

“Fine,” I said, pointing at Whis. “But can you really help me close the gap between us?”

Whis looked almost offended. “Young lady, I assure you, my methods are very effective, and you would be wise to remember that.”

“Awesome!” I smirked. “That means next time I fight Escarot, I’m gonna win! I can’t wait to break one of his arms!”

Whis smiled, amused. “Now now, I said I would help you close the gap, and I will… whether you win or not, it’s entirely up to you,”

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

[Beerus POV]

I took a bite of my pudding, tail lazily flicking behind me as I watched Whis do what Whis does best, smile like he knows something I don’t. Which he probably did. He always does. That smug little grin of his is more irritating than being woken up mid-nap, well… maybe not as much as that, but comes pretty close to it.

Across the courtyard, the Saiyan girl—Otata, I think—was tumbling into the dirt again after trying to land a punch on the dummy Whis created for her to fight. The dummy hadn’t even moved. Just tilted his head slightly, like a breeze had distracted him.

“What’s this?” I asked, licking the pudding off my spoon. “You’re training the loud one now?”

Whis glanced at me, still smiling, still unreadable. Millions of years knowing him and I still found him hard to read.

“You seemed more interested in the boy,” I added. “The one who cooks such gifts to our universe.”

Whis hummed, watching as Ozara flailed past the dummy again, grunting.

“I am training them both, Lord Beerus.”

“Hmph.” I narrowed my eyes. “Sounds like a lot of effort. And you’re not exactly one for charity.”

Whis turned slightly, staff tapping the ground once. “I have my reasons.”

I set the empty bowl down and rested my head against my hand. “You’re planning something.”

“Am I?” Whis replied lightly, tilting his head.

“Yes,” I said flatly. “I just don’t know what. Yet.”

Whis chuckled watching the girl panting, covered in dust, but still fighting. The girl had fight in her, I’ll give her that. But finesse? Strategy? She had about as much subtlety as a meteor.

“You mentioned our little chef,” Whis said. “Escarot is… interesting.”

“He’s the best chef I’ve ever had,” I replied. “That alone makes him worth keeping alive, for now at least.”

“Oh yes, his food is delicious,” Whis said, turning around. “But it’s not just that. He’s also begun walking a strange path in terms of training.”

That caught my attention. I sat up, eyebrow twitching.

“What kind of path?”

“He’s disconnecting from his instincts,” Whis said, calmly. “He’s using his head more. His fights are becoming calculations. Puzzles to solve. He sees patterns, weaknesses, timing.”

“And that’s bad?” I asked, folding my arms.

“Not inherently,” Whis replied. “But a warrior without hunger grows cold. Just as a warrior without brains burns out. The greatest fighters strike a balance between the two.”

I glanced at the courtyard again. Olara had stopped charging this time. She was standing still. Watching. Thinking. Progress, I guess or maybe not, with mortals it was hard to tell.

“And the girl?” I asked.

“All instinct,” Whis said with a slight sigh. “She has a lot of latent talent, certainly. But without the ability to reflect or analyze, she’ll always plateau too soon.”

I scratched my chin, tail curling in thought. “So, you’re teaching her how to think… and you’re trying to remind the boy how to feel.”

“Precisely,” Whis nodded. “Escarot has spent too long filling roles he wasn’t meant to. Mentor. Protector. He’s strong, but his growth has slowed because he’s always holding back, for the sake of others.”

I frowned. That… did make sense. 

“He can’t let himself break limits because he’s worried about dragging his team along behind him,” I muttered.

“Exactly,” Whis said. “But if Okara becomes his equal… then he’ll finally have something that pushes him forward again.”

“A rival.”

Whis smiled. “Yes. A true rival. Someone who reignites his love for battle, the way Saiyans are meant to fight.”

That made me pause.

Love for battle…

I’d seen that spark in Escarot once. Back when he faced that big green idiot. The one that talked too much and still lost. Escarot had bled in that fight. Nearly died. But he’d lived in that moment more than any other.

He was grinning the entire time.

And since then?

He’d been too busy babysitting his group.

“You locked him in that pocket realm of yours, didn’t you?” I asked, glancing at Whis.

“I did,” Whis said without missing a beat. “A realm filled with mindless monsters that match or surpass his power. No strategies. No plans. Just hunger. Pure, brutal instinct.”

“So he’d be forced to remember what it means to be a Saiyan,” I muttered.

“Correct. To remind him that there is more to fighting than just out smarting your opponents.”

I leaned back, arms behind my head, watching Oyara dodge a strike for once. She still got kicked in the stomach right after, but hey, baby steps.

“So what’s your endgame here, Whis?” I asked, eyeing him carefully. “You playing matchmaker between two little Saiyans just for fun? Or is there something else?”

“Must I always have an endgame?” Whis smiled innocently.

“Yes,” I replied without hesitation. “Because you always do.”

Whis chuckled but didn’t answer. He just waved his staff and conjured another training dummy for Okara, who groaned in frustration.

“Hmph.” I closed my eyes and yawned. “To be frank, as long as the boy keeps cooking and the girl keeps quiet, I don’t really care.”

“I’ll make sure dinner is ready on time, Lord Beerus,” Whis said.

“Good,” I muttered. “And if this whole plan of yours doesn’t work—”

“I’ll take full responsibility,” Whis replied, bowing slightly.

“You will,” I grinned. “Because if I have to eat subpar food because you broke my chef… I’ll destroy five of your favorite food planets.”

Whis chuckled again.

“You always say that,” he said.

“Doesn’t make it less true.”