Back on Earth, Raditz had managed to contact nearly all the potential candidates for Universe Seven's tournament roster. Shin was handling the notification for Tapion, which left only one name outstanding on the list.
Frieza.
"Are you absolutely certain about recruiting Frieza?" Piccolo stood with his arms crossed, his expression making his feelings abundantly clear. "I'm not comfortable fighting alongside him."
In fact, Piccolo wasn't alone in his reservations. Most of the assembled warriors shared his reluctance—and surprisingly, even Beerus had voiced objections. Nobody disputed Frieza's raw power; the tyrant had proven himself capable of matching Super Saiyan Blue in direct combat, which made him one of the strongest beings in Universe Seven. But his treacherous nature, his sadistic tendencies, his complete lack of loyalty or honor... these traits made him potentially the biggest liability the team could have. A powerful ally who might stab you in the back at the worst possible moment was arguably worse than having no ally at all.
Raditz remained firm despite the unanimous concern. "It'll be fine. I've already accounted for that risk. I used the Dragon Balls to place a curse on Frieza—any time he harbors evil thoughts or commits evil acts, he'll experience severe physical and psychological torment. The only way he can get that curse lifted is by cooperating with me completely. Once the tournament is over and he's proven himself trustworthy, I'll make another wish to remove it."
"That's... actually pretty clever," Piccolo admitted, though he still looked uncomfortable. "But still—"
"I think my brother's right," Goku interjected, his enthusiasm cutting through the tension. "Frieza doesn't want to be erased any more than the rest of us do. Right now, we need teammates who are powerful enough to make a real difference. Frieza fits that description perfectly."
Vegeta snorted derisively. "Admit it, Kakarot. You just want another excuse to fight him."
Caught red-handed, Goku scratched the back of his head with an embarrassed grin. "Well... maybe a little?"
The admission broke the tension, drawing chuckles from several of the gathered warriors despite the serious circumstances.
"Enough!" Beerus's voice cut through the laughter like a knife. "This isn't social hour! Several hours have already elapsed since we received our time limit. We can't afford to waste more time debating. Raditz, go find Frieza and convince him. Everyone else—" he swept his gaze across the assembled fighters "—you need to be training! Every second counts! Improve your strength and coordination as much as humanly possible before the tournament begins!"
His commanding tone would have been more impressive if he wasn't currently munching on chicken wings while sipping a Coke, the very picture of relaxation. The juxtaposition between his urgent words and his casual demeanor was almost comical.
Raditz suppressed a smile and reached out with his senses, searching for Frieza's distinctive energy signature. He'd confirmed the tyrant's location just a few hours earlier, verified that he was still within Universe Seven's boundaries. It should be a simple matter to lock onto him and use Instant Transmission to—
Nothing.
Frieza's ki had completely vanished.
Raditz frowned, extending his awareness further. He could sense energy signatures across the entire universe now—one of the benefits of achieving divine status. Even if Frieza had learned to suppress his power level, Raditz should still be able to detect him through sheer mental scanning. There was nowhere in Universe Seven to hide from that kind of search.
But Frieza simply wasn't there.
"Whis." Raditz's voice carried an edge of concern. "I can't locate Frieza anywhere in our universe."
"Oh my!" Whis looked up from his pudding, genuinely surprised for once. "How unusual. Even with your current capabilities, you can't find him? Frieza's energy should be quite distinctive and difficult to mask, especially with that curse affecting him."
As an Angel completely uninvolved in mortal affairs, Whis maintained his characteristic serenity even as the others began to show signs of alarm. He took another delicate bite of his dessert before setting it aside.
"Here, allow me to investigate." Whis tapped his staff against the ground, and the crystal ornament at its tip began to glow. A three-dimensional projection materialized in the air above them, showing recent events in chronological order.
The assembled warriors watched in growing disbelief as the scene unfolded: Frieza writhing in apparent agony on a barren planet. Cloaked figures appearing and approaching him. Frieza casually obliterating one of them. A confrontation, negotiation, violence. Then—most damningly—the appearance of a crystal communication orb showing a figure in God of Destruction regalia. Finally, Frieza and the surviving agents being enveloped in divine light and vanishing entirely.
Zangya was the first to voice what they were all thinking. "That rat-faced being... he's wearing a God of Destruction's clothing!"
"QUITELA!" Beerus's roar of fury shook the entire building. His aura exploded outward, destructive energy radiating in waves that threatened to tear the structure apart. The table in front of him—laden with food—began to vibrate dangerously as plates and glasses rattled. "That BASTARD! How DARE he pull something like this!"
Only the thought of all that delicious food going to waste managed to make Beerus rein in his power before the building collapsed. He forced his aura back under control, but his eyes still blazed with barely contained rage.
Raditz felt his own anger building, cold and controlled but no less intense. To brazenly infiltrate Universe Seven's territory and recruit—essentially kidnap—one of their potential fighters? The sheer audacity was staggering. Quitela had shown complete disregard for territorial boundaries, for professional courtesy between gods, for the most basic standards of conduct.
If Quitela thought he could get away with such flagrant disrespect... well, Raditz was more than happy to educate him otherwise. He might have been cautious about confronting Gods of Destruction once upon a time, but those days were long past. If Quitela wanted a fight, Raditz would give him one he'd never forget.
"I'll handle this," Raditz said, his voice deadly calm. "Whis, transport me to Universe Four immediately."
"Hold on!" Beerus stepped forward, intercepting. "No—I'll go. This is between Gods of Destruction. I'm going to teach that scheming rat a lesson he'll remember for the rest of his existence!"
Whis shook his head gently, that ever-present smile suggesting he'd anticipated this exact response. "With all due respect, Lord Beerus, I think you might escalate the situation unnecessarily. Your... passionate nature could turn this into a larger conflict. Raditz would be better suited for this particular negotiation. Besides—" his smile widened fractionally "—Raditz and Frieza still have matters to discuss regarding their arrangement. It makes more sense for him to handle the recruitment personally."
Beerus looked ready to argue, then deflated slightly. Even he could recognize the wisdom in Whis's assessment. "Fine. But Raditz—" he jabbed a finger at the Supreme Kai "—don't hold back just because he's a God of Destruction. If Quitela gets in your face, if he refuses to back down, you have my full permission to beat some sense into him. Show him that Universe Seven isn't to be trifled with!"
"Understood," Raditz replied, allowing a predatory smile to cross his features.
Whis raised his staff, and reality seemed to fold around Raditz. One moment he stood in West City on Earth; the next, he materialized in an entirely different dimension—the Destroyer's Realm of Universe Four.
The architecture was similar to Beerus's domain but with distinct differences in aesthetic. Where Universe Seven's Destroyer Realm favored elegant curves and organic shapes, Universe Four's version featured sharper angles and more aggressive geometries. It spoke to different design philosophies, different cultural values.
But Raditz barely registered the scenery. His attention immediately locked onto the two figures seated in the central pavilion: Quitela, reclined on his throne with casual arrogance, and Frieza, positioned nearby in what appeared to be the middle of an animated conversation.
"—completely incompetent, the whole lot of them," Frieza was saying with obvious relish. "The Galactic Justice League? More like the Galactic Joke. Half of them couldn't organize a proper military parade, let alone defend the universe from serious threats. And don't get me started on the Supreme Kais—"
Both speakers froze as Raditz appeared, their expressions shifting through surprise into something more complicated.
Frieza's shock was particularly pronounced. His eyes widened, pupils contracting as recognition hit. The last time he'd faced Raditz in combat, the Saiyan had demonstrated power so overwhelming that it had redefined Frieza's understanding of the hierarchy of strength. That memory—that terror—still lingered like a shadow in his psyche.
Quitela's reaction was more nuanced. Surprise, certainly—he'd expected at least a few more hours before anyone in Universe Seven realized what had happened. The fact that they'd discovered his scheme so quickly and responded so decisively spoke to a level of competence that made him reassess his opponents. But along with surprise came a flicker of nervousness that he tried to suppress. What he'd done was... well, not explicitly forbidden by the rules, but certainly pushing ethical boundaries. If this escalated badly...
Then his pride reasserted itself. He was a God of Destruction, damn it! A being who had existed for millions of years, who had destroyed countless worlds, who stood as one of the multiverse's ultimate authorities. He would not be intimidated in his own domain by a Supreme Kai—even one as powerful as Raditz.
Quitela straightened in his seat, his posture radiating confidence he didn't entirely feel.
"Quitela." Raditz's voice cut through the silence like a blade, casual and relaxed but carrying an undercurrent of steel. "I have to admit, I'm impressed. For a God of Destruction, you certainly have a talent for underhanded schemes. Recruiting fighters from other universes through backdoor negotiations? That's a new low, even by the standards of the more... creative gods." He looked the rodent-like deity up and down with an expression that suggested he'd found something distasteful on the bottom of his shoe. "If Universe Four is so lacking in capable warriors, I'd be happy to lend you a few of ours. Though perhaps you should focus on training the fighters you already have instead of trying to steal from your betters?"
The words were delivered with such easy confidence, such complete lack of deference, that they landed like physical blows. Raditz was here to demand justice, and his tone made it clear he considered himself Quitela's equal—in both strength and status.
In Raditz's worldview, that assessment was accurate. He'd achieved divinity. He'd fought Beerus to a standstill. The title of "God of Destruction" no longer inspired automatic submission, because he'd proven himself capable of standing on that same level. Why should he bow to Quitela?
More importantly, Quitela was objectively in the wrong here. The moral high ground was firmly on Raditz's side, which gave him every right to be aggressive in his confrontation.
"Hehehehe!" Quitela's laugh was more forced than he'd intended. "Raditz, the famously arrogant Supreme Kai of Universe Seven. I regret that we didn't have time for proper introductions at Lord Zeno's Palace." His smile remained fixed on his face, though his eyes had gone cold. "I certainly didn't expect you to track us down so quickly. I must commend your efficiency."
He leaned forward slightly, and his tone shifted from jovial to threatening. "However, you're being remarkably arrogant for someone standing uninvited in my domain. This is Universe Four, Raditz. My territory. Perhaps you should remember that before making threats."
Quitela's aura began to manifest—purple destructive energy coiling around his form like living shadow. Despite his comical appearance—those protruding teeth would never look intimidating no matter how he tried—the raw power radiating from him was undeniable. He'd stood as God of Destruction for millions of years, had fought Beerus to repeated stalemates across their long rivalry, had mastered the fundamental forces of annihilation. His strength was absolutely genuine.
Off to the side, Frieza took several casual steps backward, raising his hands in a gesture of innocence. "Please, don't mind me. I'm merely an observer caught between two gods having a disagreement. Truly, I'm the most wronged party in all of this." His expression was the picture of victimized confusion, as if none of this had anything to do with him.
At the same time, his eyes gleamed with barely concealed excitement. The prospect of watching Raditz and Quitela fight—two god-level beings clashing in earnest—was almost too delicious to resist. He wanted to see blood. He wanted to see which of them would prove superior.
"Frieza." Raditz's gaze flicked to the tyrant for just a moment. "I'll deal with you afterward. Don't even think about leaving."
"Me? Leave? Where would I go?" Frieza spread his hands wider, his tone dripping with false innocence. "I'm simply a powerless pawn caught between divine politics. You're both gods—how could someone like me possibly—"
"SHUT UP!" Both Raditz and Quitela snapped simultaneously, their unified irritation cutting through Frieza's performance.
The tyrant wisely fell silent, though his smirk suggested he was enjoying himself immensely.
Quitela returned his full attention to Raditz, and his smile took on a smugger quality. "You seem to be misunderstanding the situation. Frieza made his own choice to join Universe Four. How can you call that my problem? Our universe simply has standards that appeal to fighters of exceptional caliber. If Universe Seven can't inspire loyalty in its own warriors, perhaps that's a reflection on your leadership, hmm?"
The casual dismissal, the implication that Universe Seven was somehow inadequate, the complete refusal to acknowledge any wrongdoing—it all combined to push Raditz past the point of diplomatic resolution.
He cracked his knuckles, the sound sharp and clear in the tense silence. Energy began gathering around his hands, silver-white light flickering at the edges of his aura.
"Lord Beerus gave me explicit permission for this," Raditz said conversationally. "He said if necessary, I should beat some sense into you. Given how shameless you're being, I think we've reached that 'if necessary' point."
"HAHAHA!" Quitela's laughter was genuinely amused this time, as if he'd heard the funniest joke in centuries. "Beat me? Beat a God of Destruction?" He slapped his knee, teeth chattering with mirth. "Oh, that's priceless! I knew you were arrogant, Raditz, but this is beyond anything I imagined! You actually think—"
"Lord Quitela." Cognac's voice cut through his master's laughter, carrying a note of warning that immediately sobered the God of Destruction. The Angel had been silent until now, observing from the sidelines with that knowing smile all Angels seemed to share. "I would suggest taking his threat seriously. He's not lying about his capabilities."
Quitela's laughter died in his throat. He turned to stare at Cognac, trying to gauge whether this was some kind of joke, but the Angel's expression remained perfectly serious beneath that mild smile.
Before Quitela could formulate a response, he felt something shift in the air. A pressure that hadn't been there a moment ago suddenly pressed down on him like a physical weight.
His instincts screamed warning.
Quitela's eyes snapped back to Raditz just in time to see a phantom afterimage where the Supreme Kai had been standing. The real Raditz was already in motion, moving with speed that defied mortal comprehension. The crushing pressure of divine-level power surged forward like a tidal wave.
Quitela was startled, and suddenly felt a phantom flashing in front of him, and a strong pressure rushed suddenly!
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