Piccolo stepped toward the swirling vortex of ki and killing intent that was Yamcha. For a long moment, he just stared at Raditz's mangled body… then at Yamcha.
He had seen brutality before. Hell, he was born from it. But seeing a man torn apart to this degree was still a surprise. This wasn't cruelty for its own sake like his father was fond of. It wasn't malice, or sadism, or pointless violence.
It was terrifyingly focused. A controlled and deliberate dismantling of a threat. Not prolonged to the point of torture, but long enough for the agony to set in. It was almost elegant in its execution.
For a second, his mind remembered what Yamcha said about protecting something precious.
"Tch…" Piccolo clicked his tongue and looked away, unsettled by the realization. "Remind me never to piss off your family, Human."
Yamcha didn't answer. His breathing was rough but steady, Byakugan slowly fading as the veins around his eyes receded.
Goku stepped closer, eyes wide, taking in the carnage.
He'd seen Yamcha fight, seen him pushed, seen him bleed.
He had never seen him like this.
The brutality was honestly a bit shocking. It was true that Goku had never really liked the idea of killing. The only person he had ever truly set out to kill was King Piccolo, and even then the fate of the world had been at stake.
He could understand though.
He recalled the cold pit that had settled in his stomach watching that beam approach his friends and family. If anything had happened to them…
Just then, there was a flash in Goku's mind.
A memory.
Red-tinted glass. The curved view of a planet shrinking behind him.
And through that warped lens…
A man.
Wild hair pushed back by a red headband. Armor scarred and blackened.
Bardock.
He stood alone against an army, ki burning in his hand as a massive force descended on his world. Goku remembered the anger on his face—not the ugly kind Raditz wore, not glee from attacking a weaker foe—but a fierce, desperate fury.
A warrior willing to break himself to protect something important to him.
The memory was gone in an instant, leaving Goku blinking, breath caught.
He looked at Yamcha again, standing over Raditz's broken form, aura still faintly glowing.
I get it… Goku realized. This is what it looks like… when you refuse to let anyone take your family from you.
He flinched at the sight, at the brutality of it.
But he didn't look away.
And he didn't look at Yamcha any differently.
Behind his easy smiles, Goku knew he was capable of this too. He had felt the edge of it when Krillin died. That rage had always been there.
The only difference was that Yamcha had reached it first.
Goku exhaled slowly, placing a hand on Yamcha's shoulder.
"Hey," he said quietly. "You protected them. That's what matters."
Yamcha glanced sideways at him, some of the ice in his expression softening. "Yeah. Still… sorry you had to see that."
Goku shook his head.
"No. I… understand."
Piccolo snorted. "Touching. You two done having your moment?"
He raised one hand, gathering a small, focused ball of ki with none of the ceremony of his Special Beam Cannon. His eyes narrowed at Raditz's mangled chest.
"Alive or not, he's done," Piccolo said flatly. "I'll make sure he stays that way. Waste of good oxygen."
Goku winced faintly, but didn't move to stop him this time.
There was no righteous speech. No attempt at a last-minute plea.
Raditz just stared up at the sky—empty, broken, and silent.
Piccolo fired.
The blast engulfed Raditz's body in a flare of light, vaporizing it and leaving nothing but cracked stone and scorched earth.
Silence fell over the island.
The only sounds were the distant rush of waves and the soft crackle of fading ki.
Piccolo lowered his hand and turned away with a grunt. "Good riddance."
Goku let out a breath, releasing some of the tension that had formed ever since he first saw Raditz.
Yamcha closed his eyes for a heartbeat. Not in mourning—Raditz had earned his fate—but in acknowledgment.
It was done.
"...Okay," a new voice said weakly from behind a broken outcrop. "I know I'm late to the conversation, but—what in the world did I just walk in on?"
All three turned.
Krillin walked into view, a slight sheen of cold sweat still visible on his forehead. He stared at the scorched crater where Raditz had been, then at the bloody gouges in the stone, then at Yamcha's still-simmering aura.
His jaw dropped.
"Dude," Krillin said, eyes wide. "I cut off his tail for you guys, like, thirty seconds ago and somehow you went from 'giant monkey problem' to… this." He gestured helplessly at the devastation. "Remind me never to get on your bad side, Yamcha."
Yamcha gave a tired, humorless huff. "Don't threaten my family and you'll be fine."
Krillin swallowed. "Noted. I… uh… definitely won't be doing that."
Goku grinned faintly at his oldest friend. "Nice throw, by the way. If you hadn't cut his tail, we might not have made it this far."
Krillin rubbed the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. "Heh. Well… somebody had to step in while you guys were getting punted into mountains."
Piccolo rolled his eyes. "Congratulations. You get a gold star for basic competence."
Krillin glared. "I literally saved all your butts!"
"Yeah, yeah," Piccolo muttered. "Try not to die of pride."
Krillin looked back at the crater where Raditz had been and shuddered. "Seriously though… remind me to never let Toshi see you fight like that. I think she'd either be traumatized or think it's the coolest thing ever, and I'm not sure which is worse."
Yamcha snorted. "She's… gonna hear about it from Bulma anyway."
Goku winced.
"…So," Piccolo said suddenly, gaze shifting toward the broken scouter lying nearby. "Before we get too comfortable… there's something you need to hear."
He walked over, nudged the crushed device with his foot, and bent down to pick it up. The screen was shattered, but enough circuitry remained to intermittently spark to life.
Piccolo held it up. The scouter crackled and sparked, the circuitry damaged and overloaded.
"There were other people listening on the other side of this thing. Probably those other Saiyans he hinted at."
The ice returned to Yamcha's gaze, and Goku immediately tensed up. Krillin unconsciously straightened, remembering the voices that had leaked through before.
"They heard about the Dragon Balls," Piccolo continued. "Called Raditz a weakling, said they'd be here in around a year's time."
Goku's face went pale. "A year…?"
Piccolo nodded grimly. "Two of them. Stronger than him. And judging from the tone? They're not here for a friendly spar."
Krillin's stomach dropped. "Stronger than him? We were almost all dead already!"
Yamcha's expression darkened, but there was no fear in it—only resolve.
"Nappa and Vegeta," he said quietly. "That was their names, right?"
Piccolo frowned. "Yeah. How did you—"
"Raditz talked too much," Yamcha lied smoothly. "And even if he didn't, we know enough now."
Goku clenched his fists. "Two of them… stronger than Raditz… in a year…"
He remembered how Raditz had thrown him around even before transforming. How after, even together without Yamcha's new power, they had been overwhelmed.
"We're nowhere near ready," he admitted.
"Not yet," Yamcha agreed. "But we will be."
Krillin let out a shaky breath. "Well… that's one way to motivate everybody to train."
Piccolo crossed his arms. "I'm not teaming up with you idiots because I like you. Those two sound strong enough to wipe this planet out from orbit if they feel like it. And I'm not about to let my world get blown up before I've conquered it myself."
Goku gave him a side-eye. "You still on that?"
Piccolo scoffed. "Don't get comfortable. If we survive this… I'm coming for you next."
"You say that," Yamcha muttered, "but at this point you're basically the grumpy uncle."
"SHUT UP."
"In his defense," Krillin added, raising a hand, "you do kinda have 'grumpy uncle' energy going on."
Piccolo's eye twitched. "You want me to test that Special Beam Cannon on you next, Baldy?"
Krillin immediately dropped his hand. "Nope. I'm good. I'm very good."
In his anger, Yamcha could see Piccolo's muscles tensing, about to crush the scouter. In an instant, Yamcha had snatched it and clipped it to the belt of his gi.
Piccolo's eyes widened a fraction before narrowing again.
"My wife would probably find this pretty interesting, besides it's not li—"
Before Yamcha could make another joke, his body suddenly seized.
A sharp, searing pain tore through his chest and down his limbs. His vision doubled, then blurred. His ki, still thrumming in the harsh rhythm of the forced Gate output, twisted on itself.
He coughed—
—and blood splattered onto the rocks.
"Yamcha!" Goku lunged toward him.
"Whoa—!" Krillin stumbled forward. "Hey, hey!"
Piccolo tensed. "The hell—?"
Yamcha's legs buckled.
He dropped to one knee, one hand gripping his chest, the other bracing against the ground. His aura flickered violently, then guttered down to a low flicker.
Inside, he could feel it. The harmonized flow he'd achieved earlier—clean, smooth, precise—had long since tipped into overdrive. In the heat of rage, he'd stopped riding the rhythm and started pushing it further.
His ki had obeyed. For a while.
Now his body was presenting the bill.
"S… sorry…" Yamcha croaked, trying to breathe around the ache in his ribs and the burning in his skull. "Pushed… that power up too far…"
Goku blinked—
And then, to Piccolo's shock, started laughing.
Not mocking. Not dismissive.
Warm.
Relieved.
"Heh…" Goku grinned, slipping Yamcha's arm over his shoulder to help steady him. "Figures. You always push past your limits."
Yamcha chuckled weakly. "Says… the guy who nearly got crushed to death…"
Krillin let out a breath he'd been holding. "Okay, okay, if you two have the energy to crack jokes, I'm gonna assume nobody's dying today."
"Yeah, yeah," Goku said, helping Yamcha to his feet. "Guess we all still have a lot to learn about not dying."
Piccolo stared at them for a second, incredulous.
"Are you three serious right now?" he demanded. "We almost got wiped out, you tore an alien apart, and now you're joking?"
Goku glanced over, smiling that same annoyingly bright smile.
"That's just how we do things."
Yamcha nodded, still trying to catch his breath. "If we don't laugh a little," he said, "we'd probably just lie down and cry until they show up."
"Speak for yourselves," Piccolo muttered. But there was less venom in it now. "I'm going to start my own training. I don't care what you do, but if you don't get stronger, you'll just slow me down in a year."
"We'll manage," Goku said.
"We'll find you before then," Yamcha added. "We'll need to coordinate. Share what we've figured out. Ki, tactics, weaknesses… anything that gives us an edge."
Piccolo turned away, cape billowing in the wind.
"Fine," he said. "But don't expect me to come running every time you have a family picnic invaded by aliens. I fight for my own reasons."
Yamcha smirked. "You say that now…"
Piccolo's eye twitched. "I heard that."
With a final grunt, he rose into the air.
"One year," he said. "Don't waste it."
He flew off, a streak of green and white against the darkening sky.
Goku watched him go, expression thoughtful.
Yamcha exhaled slowly. "You know… for a guy who keeps saying he wants to conquer the world, he sure does spend a lot of time trying not to let it blow up."
Goku laughed. "Yeah. He's weird. But I'm glad he was here."
"Me too," Yamcha admitted.
Krillin crossed his arms, trying—and failing—to look casual. "Yeah, well… I'm just glad we all made it out. Seriously, if I died here after finally getting a cool new move, I'd haunt you guys out of spite."
"The Kienzan was awesome, Krillin," Goku said sincerely. "You saved us."
Yamcha nodded. "Yeah. Tail or no tail, that throw was clutch."
Krillin flushed a little. "Heh… well… y'know. Somebody's gotta keep you two show-offs alive."
The adrenaline was finally fading. The ache in Yamcha's muscles and the residual strain of the Gate pushed at the edges of his awareness, but he forced himself to stand upright, leaning just enough on Goku to stay steady.
"Alright," Goku said, clapping him gently on the back. "Let's head back to Kame House. I'm pretty sure Chi-Chi's going to yell at me until tomorrow."
Yamcha winced in sympathy. "Bulma's gonna yell first. Then lecture. Then… probably cry. Unless Toshi beats her to that part."
Krillin groaned. "I'm gonna get all of the above—yelling, crying, and then some kind of 'what were you thinking, jumping into that fight?!' speech. I might prefer fighting the Saiyans."
They all smiled, despite everything.
They turned to leave, but Yamcha paused.
"Wait, hold on."
Goku blinked. "What's up?"
Yamcha scratched his cheek, suddenly looking almost… sheepish. "Uh… before we go… mind helping me grab some of that?"
Goku followed his gaze.
At first, he saw only scorched stone and dried blood.
Then he noticed the scattered fragments of Raditz's armor—cracked breastplates, ruined shoulder guards, chunks of battle gear half-buried in rubble.
"You… want his armor?" Goku asked.
"Not all of it," Yamcha said quickly. "Just some pieces. Bulma's going to want to study Saiyan tech. Materials, energy conduction, anything that gives her an idea of how their gear works."
He rubbed the back of his neck with a wry smile. "If two more of these guys are coming, I want her as prepared as we are."
Krillin whistled. "Smart. Maybe she can whip up something that keeps us from getting pancaked next time."
"Plus…" Yamcha added, scratching his cheek with one hand, the other resting on the scouter at his waist. "I'm hoping if I bring her enough samples, she'll be less angry…"
Goku grinned. "Heh. That might actually work on Bulma."
He floated up and started grabbing the larger patches of armor, casually prying them out of cracks and debris, tossing them down to Yamcha, who sealed them into a capsule case he'd clipped to his belt.
Krillin grabbed a chunk of shoulder armor and squinted at it. "Think she can make one of these in my size? Y'know… something with 'doesn't get crushed by giant monkeys' built in?"
"Knowing Bulma?" Yamcha said. "If it doesn't explode, we'll call it a win."
"Comforting," Krillin muttered, but he kept helping.
When they were done, Yamcha snapped the capsule shut with a soft click.
"Alright," he said. "Now we're ready."
Goku floated up beside him, offering an arm again—less because Yamcha needed it, and more because they both knew Bulma and Chi-Chi were going to freak out if either of them arrived looking half-dead.
"You ready for the next year?" Goku asked quietly.
Yamcha looked out toward the horizon.
He could feel Toshi's ki. Tiny, bright, familiar. Bulma's too, warm and sharp, like tempered steel.
Roshi, Chi-Chi, Gohan… all of them.
Two Saiyans were coming.
Stronger than Raditz.
Sooner than anyone was ready for.
Yamcha smiled, tired but fiercely determined.
"Yeah," he said. "I've got way too much to protect to slack off now."
"Same here," Krillin added, squaring his shoulders. "If those guys are stronger than Raditz, I've gotta level up big time. I am not sitting on the sidelines for this one."
Goku grinned. "Guess that means we'll all be training like crazy."
"Wouldn't have it any other way," Yamcha said.
Together, the three of them rose into the sky and flew toward the setting sun, leaving behind the ruins of the battle—
—and stepping into the shadow of the battles to come.