Dragon Ball Z: The Beast Within - CH16

[Escarot POV.]

I was starving.

Which, considering I had just spent the last six hours getting my ass handed to me by Nail, wasn’t surprising. Training was brutal, even more so now that he wasn’t holding back as much. Every punch felt like getting hit with a damn spaceship.

Still, I couldn’t complain. I was getting stronger. And that was what mattered.

But at this very moment, the only thing that mattered was food.

I cracked my neck as I flew over Namek’s endless blue waters, scanning the surface below. I had asked to be the best chef in the universe—might as well put that to the test. And what better way to do that than with fresh, local ingredients?

I dipped lower, letting my eyes trail over the shallows, my new chef instincts kicking in. I knew exactly what to look for.

Fish.

Crustaceans.

Edible plants.

I smirked. Namek wasn’t exactly known for its cuisine, mostly because Namekians didn’t eat solid food, I think they mostly ate water. But that didn’t mean the planet didn’t have ingredients.

And I could already see them.

I landed softly on a rocky outcrop, just by the shoreline. The water was crystal clear, revealing the creatures below. Schools of silver-scaled fish darted through the currents, their sleek bodies reflecting the teal sky. Further out, larger shadows moved beneath the waves.

And near the shallows?

Bingo.

I crouched, peering down at a group of massive crabs scuttling across the seabed. They weren’t like the crabs back on Earth—these were bigger, their shells a dark green with strange, bioluminescent markings along their backs.

“Alright, come to papa.”

With a quick flick of my wrist, I sent a small blast of ki into the water, just enough to stun them without ruining the meat. A few of them flipped over, legs twitching before going still. I reached down and yanked one out of the water, its shell still faintly glowing.

I grinned. “You’ll do nicely.”

Throwing it over my shoulder, I moved in-land. I knew Namek had edible vegetation—I had seen it during my flights. Large leafy plants, root vegetables, even some weird-looking pods that smelled vaguely like garlic.

I plucked a few, my hands moving almost on autopilot. It was strange—this wasn’t knowledge I had before, but thanks to my wish, I instinctively knew what everything was, how it could be used, how to pair flavors together.

By the time I returned to the small campsite, I had everything I needed.

Fish.

Crabs.

Some kind of Namekian tubers.

And a bundle of long, green stalks that smelled like onions.

I rolled my shoulders. Time to see if this wish was worth it.

Building a fire was easy. A small ki blast took care of that. Setting up a cooking area? That was a bit trickier. But before long, I had a makeshift station, complete with a flat rock I was using as a cutting board.

I grabbed one of the crabs first, flipping it over with practiced ease. I knew exactly where to press, exactly how to break it apart without ruining the meat. My hands moved on their own, separating the legs, pulling out the shell, extracting the soft, white flesh with expert precision.

I blinked.

Damn. I really was the best.

Next, the fish. Scaled, gutted, filleted—all in a matter of seconds.

I smirked to myself. Maybe this wish hadn’t been a waste after all.

With the prep done, I moved on to cooking. The tubers I sliced thin, tossing them into a heated pan with a bit of oil. They sizzled immediately, releasing a rich, delectable aroma. The crab meat followed, then the fish, all seasoned with a mix of crushed sea salt and the garlic-like pods.

The smell hit me like a truck.

My mouth watered.

Holy shit. This was going to be good.

I worked fast, flipping the fish, stirring the vegetables, making sure everything cooked evenly. The flavors blended together perfectly, the scent alone enough to make my stomach growl.

Within minutes, it was done.

I plated it onto a flat rock, stepping back to admire my work.

Golden-brown fish, flaky and tender.

Crab meat, buttery and rich.

Crispy, caramelized tubers and fragrant greens.

I didn’t even hesitate. I grabbed a piece of fish and took a bite.

The moment it hit my tongue, I nearly blacked out.

This was—this was—

I had never tasted anything this good in my entire life.

And I had made it.

Me! The guy whose best dish was instant-ramen before all this!

I sat down, inhaling my meal like a starving man, which I might as well be, considering what Saiyans eat. Every bite was perfection, every flavor balanced just right. It was almost unfair how good this was.

When I finally finished, I leaned back with a satisfied sigh.

Yeah.

This wish had definitely been worth it.

“I think I’ll make seconds,” I muttered.

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

[Okara POV.]

One second, I was training.

The next?

I was practically drooling.

What the hell was that smell?!

I had been in the middle of shadow sparring, throwing punches at the air, imagining myself beating the crap out of Escarot for ditching me with these stupid Namekians for weeks. But then, out of nowhere, my nose caught something.

Something amazing.

My stomach growled so loud I swore the Namekians I was training with; heard it.

I sniffed the air, turning my head towards the source. My body reacted before my brain did, my feet leaving the ground as I shot off toward the scent like a missile.

I wasn’t sure where I was going. Didn’t care, either.

I needed to find it.

I zoomed over the open waters of Namek, following the trail like a predator hunting prey. The smell got stronger, richer. My mouth watered so much I had to wipe my chin. What the hell was that?!

Then—

I spotted him.

Escarot.

Sitting on a tiny island, leaning back like he had just finished the best meal of his life.

A fire crackled in front of him. Next to it, a plate—or, well, a rock—with the remains of something golden, crispy, and absolutely mouth-watering.

I didn’t think.

I dove.

I hit the ground headfirst, kicking up a cloud of dust as I crashed. I popped back up immediately, stomping toward him.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!” I practically yelled, jabbing a finger at the plate.

Escarot blinked at me, looking completely unfazed. “Uh… food?”

I growled. “No shit, it’s food! I mean, what kind of food?!”

He smirked, sitting up. “Namekian seafood.”

Seafood?

Wait.

Namek had seafood? Didn’t they eat water?

Nevermind that!

I had been on this planet for months, eating nothing but ration packs and whatever scraps the Namekians offered, and this idiot had been out here cooking?!

Wait… HE COULD COOK?!

“You mean to tell me,” I said slowly, my eye twitching, “that this whole time, while I’ve been suffering, you have been making actual, real food?!”

Escarot’s smirk widened. “Well, to be fair, this is my first time cooking.”

I twitched. My tail bristled. My fists clenched.

I was going to kill him. He cooked this! And didn’t invite me?!

But first—

I stomped past him, crouching over what little food was left. My stomach growled again, louder this time.

There was barely anything left—just some crispy bits of fish, a few pieces of golden vegetables, and some weird green things I didn’t recognize.

Didn’t matter.

I grabbed the biggest piece and shoved it into my mouth.

And then—

My entire world changed.

The moment the food hit my tongue, I saw stars.

It was crunchy. It was soft. It was perfect. The fish melted in my mouth, the flavors blending together in a way I didn’t even know was possible.

I didn’t realize I had groaned until Escarot snorted. “Good, huh?”

I swallowed, barely chewing. “What—how—why—WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”

Escarot leaned back on his hands, looking far too smug. “Food.”

I grabbed another piece—okay, all the pieces—and stuffed them in my mouth.

It was even better the second time.

I had never cared about food before. Saiyan rations were bland, sure, but we weren’t picky. Food was food. As long as it gave us energy, that was all that mattered.

But this?

This was something else.

I sat back, licking my fingers, still trying to comprehend what I had just eaten.

Escarot chuckled. “Guess that means you like it.”

I glared at him. “How the hell did you even do this?”

He shrugged. “I am the best chef in the universe.”

I stared.

Then, very slowly, I narrowed my eyes.

“…Since when?”

Escarot paused for half a second before smirking. “Always.”

I twitched violently. “Bullshit.”

He stretched, rolling his shoulders. “Believe what you want.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms. “Yeah, well, if you always knew how to cook, why didn’t you tell me?”

Escarot smirked, standing up. “I dunno. You never asked.”

I twitched again. My eye, my tail, my whole body.

I was going to murder him.

After I got more food.

I twitched violently. “I hate you.”

“You just inhaled my food.”

I gritted my teeth. Damn it, he had a point.

Crossing my arms, I huffed. “Okay, fine. I don’t hate you. But I do hate that I’ve been eating rations while you’ve been making this.”

Escarot stretched, rolling his shoulders. “Then maybe you should learn how to cook.”

I scoffed. “Yeah, no thanks.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, standing up. “But I’m not cooking for you every day.”

That made me freeze.

Wait.

No more food?

No more of that food?

My pride and my stomach wrestled for dominance. My stomach won.

“…Fine,” I muttered. “Maybe I’ll learn a little.”

Escarot smirked. “That’s the spirit.”

I glared at him. “But if you ever stop cooking for me, I will kill you.”

He just laughed. “If you kill me, I can’t cook for you.”

Wait… 

FUCK!

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

[Third Person POV.]

[King Cold]

King Cold reclined on his throne, eyes narrowed as he gazed at the image of Planet Vegeta displayed on the vast screen before him. His long, purple tail flicked lazily against the polished floor, betraying his idle amusement.

Of all the planets he had conquered, Planet Vegeta was his favorite. It had a… ruggish charm to it.

Behind him, Berryblue stood with her usual composed demeanor, clipboard in hand. The elderly attendant's expression was neutral, her sharp eyes focused as she observed her master.

“Quite the sight, isn’t it?” King Cold’s voice rumbled, deep and smooth, some might even say, elegant. “So full of life... and potential. Too bad most Saiyans are just stupid.”

Berryblue nodded politely. “Indeed, sire. Good thing their use doesn’t require brainpower.”

King Cold chuckled, the sound cold and calculated. “Vicious, yes. But hopelessly primitive. Still, I suppose their brutish strength serves its purpose.”

Berryblue took a step forward, her tone flat. “Lord Cold, the preparations for your retirement are nearing completion. Within the next three to five months, everything should be in place for you to pass on your reign to Lord Frieza.”

Cold’s lips curled into a thin smile. “Excellent.” His gaze remained fixed on the screen. “My son... he will bring this universe to its knees. Such promise, such power. And, unlike his brother, he’s delightfully ruthless.”

Berryblue inclined her head. “Indeed, Lord Frieza’s methods are... efficient.”

King Cold chuckled again, tapping a claw against his chin. “Ah, my dear Berryblue, efficiency is one of Frieza’s greatest strengths. He understands that power is meaningless unless wielded with precision. Fear... that is his greatest weapon. The fear he instills in his subjects is nothing short of marvelous.”

Berryblue’s expression remained calm, though her eyes sparkled with a hint of amusement. “He is truly your son, sire.”

Cold’s smile grew, a touch of pride creeping into his otherwise cold demeanor. “Yes. He will surpass even me in time.” His tail flicked again, the movement sharper. “But that time is fast approaching. My days of conquest are coming to an end.”

Berryblue nodded. “You’ve built an empire that spans the known universe, Lord Cold. Your legacy will endure.”

“Legacy...” King Cold repeated, the word rolling off his tongue like a promise. “It’s not enough to simply conquer. One must rule with an iron fist. The galaxy must know who their master is—who holds the power to destroy worlds with a flick of their wrist.”

His eyes drifted back to Planet Vegeta. “The Saiyans... their strength is admirable, but their pride is a double-edged sword. Left unchecked, it could lead to their downfall. But under Frieza’s rule, they’ll remain useful pawns.”

Berryblue tilted her head slightly. “If I may ask, sire... have you considered the possibility of any resistance from the Saiyans? Their king has been... restless as of late.”

King Cold’s expression darkened, his amusement flickering out like a dying flame. “King Vegeta is a fool. Any thoughts of rebellion will be crushed before they can take root.”

He leaned forward, his gaze piercing. “And should they grow too bold... well, there’s always a more permanent solution.”

Berryblue’s eyes gleamed with understanding. “Of course, sire.”

Cold’s smile returned, cold and cruel. “It’s almost endearing, really. Their desperation to prove themselves worthy. But strength without intelligence is nothing but wasted potential.”

Berryblue inclined her head, her voice respectful. “And Lord Frieza has both in abundance.”

“Precisely.” Cold’s voice was filled with pride. “Frieza is the perfect successor. His power will soon rival my own, and his ambition knows no bounds. He will take this empire and shape it into something far greater than even I could have imagined.”

He paused, his gaze turning contemplative. “Of course, I will remain available for guidance. A wise ruler knows when to step back... but also when to offer a guiding hand.”

Berryblue’s lips twitched in a faint smile. “Your wisdom is unmatched, sire. The empire will remain strong under Lord Frieza’s rule.”

“Indeed.” Cold’s eyes glowed with confidence. “And should he falter, well... I still have one more son.”

Berryblue’s expression remained neutral, though her eyes flickered briefly with understanding. “Lord Cooler is... equally formidable.”

Cold chuckled darkly. “Oh, yes. My dear Cooler has always been... diligent. But he lacks Frieza’s power. He’s too focused on efficiency to see the bigger picture. But... perhaps that’s not such a flaw after all.”

He reclined back in his throne, his tail flicking idly. “Between the two of them, the universe will tremble. And my legacy will endure.”

Berryblue nodded. “The preparations will continue as planned, sire. Shall I arrange for a formal announcement of your retirement?”

“Not yet,” Cold said, his eyes glinting with anticipation. “Let’s see how Frieza handles these next few months on Sector Delta. If he continues to prove himself worthy, then we shall proceed.”

“As you wish, Lord Cold,” Berryblue replied smoothly.

The screen flickered, shifting to display various sectors of the empire—planets under their control, reports of conquered worlds, and more.