Chapter 7 Mom, He’s So Weak
899 Words
"Beat him to death."
Yóuyǎ's voice was soft, as faint as the ceaseless winds of Planet Dodoria, yet laden with a chill that could freeze all things.
Qiú Yí's smile froze on his face.
His piranha-like visage lost its mocking arrogance like an ebbing tide, replaced instead by a venomous glare—the fury of a giant scorned by insects.
"You’re dead!"
The words hissed from between his clenched teeth as his body vanished in an instant.
With a battle power of 18,000, he had run rampant through Frieza’s forces, fearing no one except the freaks of the Ginyu Force.
And now, two Saiyan monkeys with laughably low power levels dared to challenge him?
His target wasn’t the dangerous female Saiyan—it was the delicate, seemingly fragile child.
Pick the softest target first.
Kill the weakling, then torment the mother, letting her screams of despair ring out. That was the art of Frieza’s army.
His form flickered like a ghost behind Stewie, his clawed hand wreathed in purple energy, poised to tear through the boy’s back—strong enough to pierce warship armor.
Yet, the moment his fingers were about to sink into that small body—
Stewie didn’t even turn his head.
He simply… raised his left elbow.
A single, devastating backward strike.
Fast.
Too fast for Qiú Yí’s combat reflexes to follow.
THUD!
A dull impact.
Purple energy smashed against the joint of Stewie’s elbow—but instead of blood and gore, it was Qiú Yí who convulsed violently, his right arm snapping at unnatural angles as the sound of splintering bone echoed into the night.
An unfathomable force erupted from that tiny elbow, shattering his defenses and ravaging his organs.
SPLURT!
He was sent flying, spraying a mouthful of violet blood laced with viscera before crashing into the swamp dozens of meters away.
Sprawled in the muck, his mind reeled.
...How?
He stared at his mangled, useless arm, his pride in speed and power obliterated in an instant.
This was no weakling with a power level of 3,000.
Lies. Frieza’s intel was wrong!
Before he could process the horror, a guttural, bestial roar erupted above him.
Yóuyǎ moved.
Crimson aura exploded around her like a volcanic eruption, raw fury incarnate.
No technique. No finesse. Just rage.
She descended like death itself, her foot crashing down.
Qiú Yí’s pupils shrank to pinpricks as he screamed—
"NO—!"
His last-ditch energy shield shattered instantly under 47,000 units of pure, annihilating force.
BOOOOM!
Her stomp vaporized his chest, his skeleton, and the ground beneath him, carving a 100-meter crater into the planet.
When the dust settled, only a pulverized heap of flesh and broken armor remained.
Yóuyǎ stood in the pit, her red eyes still ablaze with hatred.
Killing this scum wouldn’t bring her sister back.
She turned to Stewie, who knelt at the crater’s edge, examining something silently.
"...Let’s find your aunt," she rasped.
"Mom."
Stewie interrupted her. His dirt-smudged face showed no satisfaction—only a cold, detached focus.
He opened his palm.
A broken scout scouter lay there—Frieza’s standard issue.
The same model Yóulì had worn.
Yóuyǎ trembled. She recognized the scratch from her sister’s last mission.
Stewie watched her crumbling resolve, heart aching.
No words would help.
Only blood.
He stood, scanning the war-torn wasteland with the instincts of a soldier and a Saiyan.
Energy traces lingered—Yóulì’s, Qiú Yí’s… and more.
Far more.
Stronger.
This was no simple skirmish—it was a m******e.
Yóulì hadn’t died alone.
Stewie closed his eyes. His Dragon-Elephant Suppression Art senses expanded like a spiderweb.
His frown deepened.
Something was wrong.
There were too many powerful remnants on this planet.
And not all were Frieza’s.
Among them, one trace—faint but vile—sent a primal revulsion through his veins.
Like facing a mirror of himself—a corrupted version.
A Hydra Captain of this universe.
"Mom… he was so weak," Stewie suddenly mused, his childlike voice dripping with disdain.
Yóuyǎ blinked.
Before she could question him, Stewie pointed south.
"The real threats are there."
Her heart lurched.
Following his finger, her rage-sharpened senses finally detected them.
Distant. Overpowering.
One presence eclipsed her own 47,000 power level.
Not Yóulì.
Not an ally.
A hunter.
A trap.
Yóulì had been bait.
And they’d walked right in.
Yóuyǎ smiled—a broken, feral grin.
"Good."
Her crimson aura reignited. "Then none of them leave alive."
She hoisted Stewie onto her shoulder—
When suddenly—
VZZZT!
The mysterious dial inside Stewie jolted violently, flooding his mind with abyssal commands:
[DETECTED: PARALLEL-"FROST DEMON" BLOODLINE.]
[EMERGENCY MISSION ACTIVATED.]
[OBJECTIVE: ERADICATE ALL FROST DEMONS IN THIS UNIVERSE.]
[CONSUME THEIR PROGENITOR’S POWER. COMPLETE THE FIRST ASCENSION.]
[REWARD: UNLOCK THE FIRST FORM—"GUNGNIR."]
[FAILURE: SOUL OBLITERATION.]
Stewie’s pupils contracted to slits.
Frost Demons.
Frieza’s species.
So this was the dial’s purpose.
Not conquest.
Not survival.
Assimilation.
Feasting on an entire cosmic empire’s bloodline.
Before he could react, the southern presence sensed their gaze.
BOOM!
A pillar of icy blue light shredded the sky, revealing a tall, elegant figure with porcelain skin, violet pauldrons, and a lashing tail—smiling the same refined, murderous smile as Frieza.
"Oh? More suicidal monkeys?" His voice carried across the wasteland.
"Perfect. My dear brother Frieza will arrive soon."
"You two shall be... our reunion’s appetizer."
Stewie’s stomach plummeted.
Frieza’s… brother.
Cooler.
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