Chapter 5 The Lizard-Headed Old Rival—This Time, I Get to Laugh
1438 Words
The deranged laughter echoed across the desolate red wasteland before fading into deathly silence.
Steve slowly straightened up, the manic joy on his youthful face vanishing, replaced by a bone-chilling coldness that belied his age.
A rival.
Yes, a rival.
Three days ago, when his mother and aunt heartlessly kicked him off the spaceship, he had arrived on this planet brimming with the arrogance and confidence of his Saiyan blood.
With a combat power of 1,950, he had believed he could dominate this primitive, backward world with ease.
Then, reality delivered the harshest slap imaginable.
Before he could even locate the tribe, an energy blast erupted from underground, hurling him backward.
And then it appeared—a monstrous, hulking creature covered in dark cyan scales, its grotesque lizard head leering down at him with a combat power of 2,700.
That battle had been pure annihilation.
His pride—his strength, speed, and skills—had meant nothing against such overwhelming power. They shattered like paper.
His arms were snapped like twigs. His ribs caved in under a single stomp. The lizard-headed monster hadn’t even used its full strength, toying with him like a cat playing with a mouse, reveling in the pleasure of crushing a so-called "genius" beneath its foot.
Finally, it grabbed his head with its massive claws and slammed him into the rocky ground.
Had he not mustered the last of his strength to ignite a spark of ki within himself, creating enough chaos to roll into a fissure, he would have been a lifeless corpse.
With half his body in ruins, he had crawled like a wild dog into a dark cave, enduring three days and nights solely by the monstrous regenerative power of the Dragon-Elephant Prison Subduing Art.
Every brush with death, every agony of his bones reforming, had seared the deepest marks into his soul.
A Saiyan’s combat power surges after near-death recovery.
Not only had his injuries fully healed, his power had broken through the 2,000 threshold!
And now…
It was time for payback.
His expression icy, Steve took a step forward on his stubby legs, marching toward the distant outline of the tribe.
He made no effort to conceal his presence. His ki—a swirling storm of vengeance and boiling battle l**t—rose like a beacon, stabbing straight toward the heart of the encampment.
"SKREEEEE—!"
The outermost guards, lizardmen wielding bone spears, were the first to sense the hostile presence. They let out piercing shrieks and charged without hesitation.
The scouter’s digits flickered.
[1120]
[1080]
…
Steve didn’t even lift an eyelid.
As the first lizardman raised its spear high, poised to strike—
Steve moved.
A flash—
—and he vanished.
The next instant, he stood behind the lizardman.
"Squelch."
A quiet sound.
The warrior froze, then its head silently toppled from its shoulders, soaring into the air as blood gushed like a fountain from its severed neck.
Only when the body thudded to the ground did the other lizardmen react, shrieking in terror as they wildly fired energy blasts in every direction.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Fissures tore open across the wasteland, dust and smoke billowing into the air.
Steve darted through the chaos like a phantom.
He didn’t even throw a punch.
His body—hardened beyond steel—was the weapon.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
Each impact cracked bones, each collision left another lizardman’s body twisted and broken.
Within seconds, the dust settled.
Seven or eight deformed corpses littered the ground.
Steve remained untouched, pristine.
His gaze lifted, piercing through the tribe’s crude palisade, locking onto the largest tent in the center—a structure built from the skull of some colossal beast.
"ROOOOOAAAR—!"
A roar, furious and brutal, tore through the camp.
Then—the tent exploded as a massive figure stormed into view, towering over the gathered lizardmen.
The chieftain. The same one who had nearly beaten Steve to death.
Its crimson vertical pupils found Steve, flickering first with confusion—then with rage and s******c glee.
It recognized him.
The same pathetic insect it had reduced to pulp three days ago, the one who had somehow escaped.
And he dared return?
"HISSSS—KAAAKAA!" The chieftain unleashed a guttural, mocking cry, its voice dripping with scorn.
It could sense the boy’s power had grown.
But so what?
Against its overwhelming 2,700 combat power, nothing mattered!
This time—there would be no escape.
The chieftain’s jaws split open as a dense, basketball-sized orb of purple energy coalesced in its maw. The air warped from the sheer destructive force.
Steve stared at the energy sphere, that same helpless despair from three days ago washing over him once more.
But this time—
No fear.
Only a savage smirk.
"Come on."
The words slipped out, soft, in a language only he understood.
"KRAKOOOM—!"
The beam erupted, a violet torrent screeching like a banshee as it obliterated Steve’s tiny frame in an instant.
The explosion devoured the tribal gates, shockwaves hurling debris in every direction. A twenty-meter crater seared into the earth, its edges still molten.
The lizardmen shrieked in triumph.
The battle was over.
The chieftain retracted its jaws, its crimson eyes full of disdain.
Then—
Its pupils contracted.
From the settling dust, a small figure emerged—one step, then another.
His clothes had been vaporized, revealing skin the color of burnished bronze, etched with intricate dragon-scale patterns.
Not a single wound. Only faint white marks.
He had tanked the blast that could level a mountain.
"Haaah…" A stream of scorching steam escaped Steve’s lips as he shook out his slightly numb arm.
The Dragon-Elephant Prison Subduing Art surged within him, dissolving the residual force—even absorbing some of the energy, converting it into his own strength.
He looked up, baring his teeth in a grin.
"My turn."
The ground beneath him shattered.
He shot forward like a bullet, crossing the distance in a blink, appearing right before the chieftain.
Too fast!
The lizardman barely registered the movement, barely raised its arms in defense—
—before Steve’s tiny fist, carrying the force of a meteor, smashed into its massive forearm.
"CRUNCH—!"
Not a c***k. A detonation.
From the point of impact, the chieftain’s arm—thicker than Steve’s entire thigh—burst apart, shattering inward in a spray of bone and gore.
"SKREEEEEEE—!"
For the first time, a scream—raw, agonized—ripped from the once-invincible warlord.
Pain drove it berserk. Its remaining arm swung in a wild, desperate arc—
—only for Steve to catch its wrist midair.
Then—TWIST.
"SNAP!"
Another sickening c***k.
The left arm contorted into a grotesque spiral, bones snapping like dry twigs.
With both arms ruined, Steve wasn’t done.
His knee slammed into the chieftain’s gut.
"BLURGH—!"
Greenish-black blood spewed from the lizardman’s mouth, thick with viscera. Its massive body collapsed, knees crashing into the dirt.
Its crimson eyes now reflected terror—pure, unfiltered terror.
It didn’t understand.
How?! How in three days had this insect turned into a prehistoric monster?!
Steve stared down at it, indifferent.
Slowly, he lifted his foot—
—and placed it atop the chieftain’s skull.
"Hsss… ssss…"
The lizardman whimpered, its voice choked with pleading.
Steve only pressed down.
"SPLAT."
Like an overripe melon under a sledgehammer.
Red. Green. White.
The headless body toppled.
Steve, drenched in blood, wiped his face mechanically.
Total silence.
Every lizardman stood frozen, trembling.
Without sparing them a glance, he turned and walked away.
His shadow stretched long under the dying sun—solitary, yet exuding an air of dominance.
Only after he’d walked far did he pick up the old scouter he’d deliberately discarded earlier, reattaching it to his ear.
The ship… It should be coming back soon.
Almost absentmindedly, he activated the scouter, curious about his current power level.
[2350].
Expected.
His near-death recovery had given him a 400-point boost.
A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips.
Then—
"Bzzt… bzzzt—!"
The steady digits glitched, flickering into incomprehensible, distorted symbols—strange glyphs flashing for a mere instant—
And within him—
The enigmatic Wheel in his body hummed.
A sliver of something—unknown, yet potent—seeped into the depths of his soul.
"Hm?"
Steve halted, frowning.
The scouter returned to normal, as if nothing had happened.
But that foreign sensation inside him… It was real.
That battle… Had it awakened something?
He looked up at the darkening sky, his eyes now unreadable.
Was this power a blessing…
Or a curse?
- Writer
