ESCAROT

If Bardock was to make the same choice as canon, then chances were his family would end up on Earth, which was good because it meant I would know where the fuck was Earth, that said… I wasn't sure if Raditz going was the best idea, but I had a feeling Gine would smooth things out. I hadn't met her yet, but all her iterations in the anime, manga, and movies had one thing in common — she was a Saiyan of a pacifist nature, one that preferred words over destruction if it could be helped. 

A rare trait among our kind, to put it mildly. The fact that she had managed to survive in a culture like this for as long as she did said something about her, even if I wasn't entirely sure what. Either she was smarter than she let on, or Bardock was more protective than any Saiyan normally was with their mates. 

Possibly both.

But going back to Raditz, he would be a problem. Not a big problem, not in the grand scheme of things at least, but the kind of problem that turns into a bigger problem if you ignore it. If memory served me right, he was arrogant, short-tempered, and about as subtle as a fart of a church. Putting him on Earth was essentially dropping a feral dog into a petting zoo and hoping for the best. 

Sure, Gine might be able to rein him in for a while, but eventually she'd blink, and Raditz would do something stupid. It wasn't a question of if, just when.

Though I suppose it wasn't that much of a problem if Raditz actually killed a few people here and there. I mean, honestly, it was nothing that couldn't be swept under the rug, besides I didn’t have much time to worry about what the Saiyans would do off the planet, I would have to fix whatever they do during this brief period with the Dragon Balls after all of this was done. 

I was reasonably confident that Guru wouldn't have a problem giving me a wish or two, considering the situation. The old Namekian was a pretty reasonable guy from what I remembered, besides I did him a solid with Slug, so I doubted he'd nickel and dime away.

And really, in the grand list of things that could go wrong, "Raditz destroys a country" ranked pretty low. It was almost quaint compared to everything else on the docket.

But that was neither here nor there. That was a problem for future Escarot, and in order to have a "Future Escarot," I needed to deal with the present problem.

Frieza.

The name sat in my mind like a stone in a shoe, a small yet very painful rock. No matter how I shifted my thoughts around, it was always there, always uncomfortable, always impossible to ignore. And believe me, I have tried. For three days straight, I had been running scenarios in my head, playing out every possible sequence of events I could think of, and every single road led back to the same ugly intersection.

The way I saw it, I had two options to deal with him.

I had a good idea of what the former queen had told Frieza. Without being there to hear the conversation myself, I could only piece it together from context clues and what I knew about the players involved, but the broad strokes were clear enough. Not to say the queen and the emperor were predictable.

Frieza was coming here under the idea that I was hiding my true power. That much was a given, and it was true. The former queen had every reason to paint me as a threat — it kept the heat off her, kept Frieza's attention focused on something other than whatever schemes she was quietly running in the background, and if Frieza happened to kill me in the process, well, that was just a bonus as far as she was concerned. Smart play on her part, honestly. I could respect the chess move even if I was the pawn she was sacrificing, I was only mad about it because it had been my mercy that had fucked me over.

Anyways, considering how much Frieza looked down at the Saiyans — and I mean truly looked down, the way you'd look at an insect crawling across your dinner plate — he was probably expecting someone as strong as the captain of his special forces. Maybe a little stronger. Maybe a little weaker. But somewhere in that general neighborhood.

Which, honestly, was almost funny. If that was what he thought was waiting for him, he was in for a very rude awakening. The gap between his expectations and reality was wide enough to drive a space cruiser through.

Based on that assumption alone, I could just kill him before he transforms. Only his final form was stronger than me, so dealing with him on his first few forms would be a piece of cake. 

Hell… Even Okara could do it. His first three forms were barely an inconvenience to me at this point. It would be quick. Clean. Efficient. Pop his head off before he even realized he was in danger, and the biggest problem in the universe would just be gone.

That said…

I was a Saiyan. And the idea of killing someone at their weakest felt like an insult to my own personal worth as a warrior.

It was quite paradoxical, honestly. Here I was, a guy with meta-knowledge from another life, someone who understood intellectually that fighting fair was a luxury and that the smart move was to take every advantage you could get — and yet there was this stubborn, irrational, deeply ingrained part of me that bristled at the thought. It wasn't logical. It wasn't smart. But it was who I was now, besides it wasn’t like I stood no chance, so risking my life a bit wasn’t too stupid.

That said, killing Frieza isn't the main problem. Not by a long fucking shot.

The main problem is not being able to deal with what comes next.

Let's say I kill Frieza as soon as he touches the planet, giving him no time to grasp how strong I truly am. No drawn-out fight, no dramatic transformation sequence, no monologue. Just a quick, brutal execution while he's still riding high on his own arrogance. Great. Fantastic. Pop the champagne, let’s party.

Now comes the shitstorm.

Because I would have to deal with King Cold.

King Cold, who I have a strong feeling is much stronger than Frieza. King Cold wasn't just stronger — he was the reason Frieza was the way he was. You don't raise a monster like that by accident. Whatever horrors Frieza visited upon the universe, King Cold had likely been doing them longer, quieter, and with far less theatrical flair.

Not only that, but there was also the matter of Cooler that I had to consider. My current "ally," if you could even call it that. Cooler was a wild card at the best of times, and this would not be the best of times. Once his brother dies, there are zero assurances that our little "alliance" would continue. After all, without his little brother in the picture, Cooler gets everything he has ever wanted without needing to actually rebel against his father openly. By de facto, he would become the sole heir of King Cold's empire. All the territory, all the power, all the resources — handed to him on a silver platter because the competition was gone.

Why would he keep working with me? What possible incentive would he have? I'd go from being a useful asset to a potential liability overnight. And Cooler didn't strike me as the type to keep loose ends around, especially not loose ends that had just demonstrated the ability to grow as strong as I had in such a short period of time. If anything, I'd become his next target. Not out of revenge — Cooler didn't seem the type for that — but out of pragmatism. Why let a potential rival live when you could eliminate them before they became a problem?

So killing Frieza could very well end up with me having two even stronger threats at my doorstep, where before I had one.

That wasn't a solution. That was barely even a lateral move. It was trading one problem for two bigger ones and calling it progress.

Normally and ideally, this wouldn't be much of a problem. If I were to kill Frieza by achieving the Super Saiyan, for instance, then being a Super Saiyan would give me the power to deal with whatever came after. The transformation was a game-changer in every sense of the word. It was the kind of power that made people who had been untouchable for decades suddenly very, very touchable. If I had that in my back pocket, King Cold and Cooler would go from existential threats to manageable problems, from fuck no to fuck yeah. Difficult, sure. Dangerous, absolutely. But manageable and fun.

But if I don't kill Frieza that way — if I just take him out quickly and cleanly without the transformation — then all I would be doing is increasing the difficulty of my problem without having the tools to fix my situation. I'd be pulling the pin on a grenade and then realizing I had somehow set two nukes down upon me.

I was in quite a pickle here.

Three big villains, and I still hadn't reached Saiyan puberty.

KAMI

I had not set foot on the Earth below in a very long time. There had never been a need. From the Lookout, I could sense everything that mattered — but times were changing, and so were the threats that came with them.

I touched down on the small island, the Kame House.

The beach was cluttered with various detritus that I chose not to examine too closely. And sitting on the front steps, a magazine open in his lap and a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, was the man I had come to see.

Master Roshi.

"So," he said, closing his erotic magazine and setting it aside with deliberate slowness as if trying to enjoy the page for as long as possible. "What brings you to my home? It was a long trip after all, right?"

I stopped a few paces from him, clasping my hands behind my back. "You sensed my approach?"

"Sensed isn't the right word." He pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead, squinting at me in the afternoon sun. "On another note, you're not what I expected."

"You had expectations?"

"I've known about you since I was a boy. My master told me stories about you. The Guardian of the Earth, sitting up on that tower, watching over everything." He shrugged. "You learn someone exists for that long, and that he’s God, you start building a picture in your head. Yours was taller, and with more pretty ladies at your side, hehe."

I chose not to respond to that. Instead, I let the silence sit between us for a moment, taking the opportunity to study him in turn. He was old. Older than he looked, he had seen my evil side, yet he wasn’t reacting to my appearance.

"So, dear Kami. Guardian of the Earth." He said it plainly, without reverence or fear. A statement of fact, nothing more. "Question is, what brings you down from your tower? Last I checked, you don't make house calls."

"No. I do not."

“So, what can this old martial arts master do for you?”

"I have come because something is approaching," I said finally. "Something that I cannot handle alone. Something that this planet cannot handle, unless its defenders are prepared."

Roshi's expression didn't change, but I saw something shift behind his eyes. “The Demon King is coming back?”

I blinked, “No, he’s still sealed.”

“Oh… good, by the way, why did create the demon king to be so similar to you in appearance… is he a fallen angel? Or he the only one that looks like that?”

Oh, so that’s why he hadn’t reacted to my appearance, he could tell I wasn’t evil by my ki, and with my title he thought Piccolo was like Lucifer, or Satan.

“I… nevermind that, the threat we have at hand is much bigger than Piccolo ever was, three immesinvily powerful beings are coming to earth, the likes which eclipse the Demon King.”

“Excuse my language, but… what in the actual fuck do you expect me to do?” Roshi said after a moment, “Piccolo is much stronger than me, and if this threat is much stronger than Piccolo, I won’t be able to do anything.”

I held his gaze for a long moment. He was not wrong, in fact, he was absolutely correct, and that was precisely the problem.

"I do not expect you to fight them alone," I said.

"Then what? Send them a strongly worded letter? Maybe challenge them to a game of chess?" Roshi leaned back on the steps, spreading his arms wide. "Because I gotta tell you, Kami, my chess game is not what it used to be. Actually, it was never what it used to be. I'm terrible at chess."

"That is not what I had in mind."

"Then what, exactly, do you have in mind? Because from where I'm sitting — and I do a lot of sitting these days, it's kind of my thing — you just walked up to my house, told me something scarier than the Demon King is coming, and then asked me what I can do about it. That's not a plan."

He had a point. A very irritating point.

"Three beings are traveling through space toward Earth," I said, cutting through the sarcasm before he could build up a full head of steam. "I sensed them three days ago. They are powerful — vastly more powerful than Piccolo Daimao ever was. Not slightly more powerful. Not incrementally more powerful. Vastly. The gap between Piccolo and these beings is like the gap between a lit match and a forest fire."

"Okay," he said slowly. "So. Stronger than Piccolo. Way stronger. Three of them. Coming here." He held up fingers as he counted. "And you can't stop them either?"

"No."

"And nobody on Earth can stop them."

"Not currently, no."

"So your plan is…?"

"I need you and your disciple Gohan to train with me at the Lookout."

"Train," he repeated.

"Yes."

"With you?"

"Yes."

"And training there is going to make me strong enough to fight something that makes the Demon King look like a warmup exercise."

"No even close," I said honestly.

Roshi blinked. "Don’t quit the God gig, you suck as a door to door sales man…"

"I…. Training at the Lookout will make you significantly stronger than you are now. The conditions there accelerate growth in ways that are not possible anywhere else on this planet. But it will not be enough to close the gap entirely. Not in the time we have."

"Kami," he said, and his voice had shifted. The joking was still there, underneath, but the surface was something harder. Older. "I'm gonna be real with you for a second, because I think we've moved past the part where beating around the bush is useful. I am three hundred years old. I have trained my entire life. I have pushed this body further than any human has a right to push a body, and I have the bad knees and the bad back to prove it. You're telling me that even after training at your magic tower, I'm still going to be outclassed by these things."

"Yes."

"And you still want me to do it."

"Yes."

Roshi rubbed his face with both hands, dragging his palms down slowly like he was trying to physically remove the conversation from his skin. When he dropped them, he looked somehow even older than when I'd arrived.

"How long do we have?"

"Eight months."

"Eight months." He let out a breath that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his bones. "Eight months to prepare for something we probably can't beat."

"Yes."

"You know, most gods — in the stories, at least — they show up with miracles. Plagues of locusts, parting the seas, that sort of thing. You're showing up with bad news and a gym membership."

"I am not a god in the way you are thinking."

"Clearly."

Another silence. Roshi picked up a small rock from beside the step and turned it over in his fingers, staring at it like it contained answers. Then he threw it into the ocean, where it disappeared without so much as a splash.

"Gohan's not gonna believe this," he muttered.

"Your disciple seems like a dedicated individual. I believe he will—"

"Oh, he'll do it. Don't get me wrong. Gohan would train through a hurricane if someone told him it'd make him stronger. The kid doesn't know when to quit. That's one of his best qualities and also one of his most annoying ones." Roshi cracked his neck, one vertebra at a time, each one making a sound like a dry branch snapping. "I'm more worried about what happens when he finds out he's training to fight something that makes Piccolo look like a joke. That kid's got a good heart. Good hearts don't like hearing that they're probably gonna die."

"Then perhaps it would be best to frame it differently."

"Frame an unwinnable fight differently? Sure, no problem. Hey Gohan, don't worry, we're not definitely going to die, we're just overwhelmingly likely to die. That's totally different. Feel better? Great, let's go climb a tower."

He was being difficult on purpose. I could tell. It was a defense mechanism — humor as a shield against the weight of something too large to process comfortably. I had seen it before in other humans over the centuries. The ones who laughed the hardest were usually the ones who understood the danger the most clearly.

"I will handle the explanation to Gohan myself if you prefer," I offered.

"Oh no, no no no." Roshi held up a hand. "I'm not letting you drop that bomb on my student without me there. Last thing I need is you showing up at his door looking like..." He gestured vaguely at all of me. "...like that, and telling him the world's ending. Kid would have a heart attack. At least if I'm there, I can moderate. Translate from 'ominous god-speak' to 'regular person-speak.'"

"I do not speak ominously."

"You literally just said 'three beings of immense power' without blinking. That's ominous. That's the definition of ominous."

I decided it was not worth arguing about.

"When can you leave?" I asked.

Roshi held up a finger, then stood up with a groan that seemed to involve every joint in his body protesting simultaneously. He turned toward the house, took two steps, then stopped and turned back.

"Gotta pack," he said. "You mind waiting outside? This is gonna take a minute, if I am going to die, I am taking my best magazines with me."

"How long of a—"

But he had already closed the door.

I wonder if this would be enough to make a difference.