His "Big Green Uncle." That's all the little runt could think to call him. Piccolo scoffed to himself, folding his arms. He turned his attentions from the starry night sky to the sleeping half-Saiyan. Gohan's face was calm and peaceful, the firelight dancing gently across the boy's features. Piccolo found himself smiling.
Despite all his best efforts, he was getting attached to his enemy's son. In the beginning, Piccolo had attempted to play the ruthless master he knew he could be. He swore there was no way he was going to go easy on Gohan. But when he heard the child cry out for food, something inside him changed. Some sort of pity and compassion stirred inside himself. 'Just this once,' he told himself. 'Just this once, I will give in.' But it wasn't just that once. He had given in to Gohan more times than he'd like to admit. There was something about the innocent little boy- something that he couldn't quite put his finger on- that had changed Piccolo for the better. Surely Kami was gloating, happy that his counterpart had changed his ways after all.
Piccolo wasn't entirely sure he had given up the darkness that used to be his. Somewhere inside him, there was the unyielding desire for power. However, it had faded. It was merely a feeble will. His priorities had changed, he reasoned. He was more concerned with defeating the Saiyans and getting Gohan ready for this battle. Yet, the mere fact that he cared about the fate of the boy was proof enough that he had changed. When the Saiyans left, would he return to the ruthless, power-hungry Namekian he once was? There was a part of him that answered with a resounding no. That part of him existed because of this little five-year old kid.
Piccolo lowered himself back to the ground. He stood over Gohan for several moments and reached out and ruffled his black hair. Gohan had made Piccolo realize that he did indeed have a heart. That there was hope for someone like him to turn around. Piccolo would be the first to admit he hadn't lived the best life. Sure, he had sought for world domination. Yes, it would be nice to achieve. But looking down into the little boy's face, he questioned whether world domination even mattered anymore. What did he care about ruling the world? What did he care about commanding the countless scores of Earth's inhabitants? What happiness would it bring him? Would any of it matter? Conquering the world seemed hardly appealing compared to the alternative. Why would he want to live on top of the world commanding the respect of millions through fear, when he could spend every day with his only friend? The world meant nothing to him now, unless the world was Gohan.
Piccolo scoffed at himself, but smiled again. Little Gohan was right. He had been reduced- or perhaps magnified- by this little snot. He had been changed from a fearsome, power-hungry tyrant to a gentle, foolish "Big Green Uncle." And he realized; he was perfectly alright with that.