Poisonous

Vegeta's smirk widened as he saw Frieza's two right-hand men land before him. "Zarbon... Dodoria... it's been a long time, hasn't it?"

Zarbon's expression was cold and unamused. "Enough with the pleasantries, Vegeta. Get to the point."

"I will," Vegeta replied, his tone dripping with confidence.

Dodoria growled, his patience wearing thin. "This better not be a joke, Vegeta, or you'll pay with your life."

Unfazed, Vegeta's smirk remained. With deliberate calm, he pulled a small vial from his pocket and tossed it to Zarbon.

Zarbon caught it effortlessly, his eyes narrowing as he examined the bottle. "And this is...?"

Vegeta's voice was low and dangerous. "Cyanide. The deadliest poison in the universe. I want you to mix it into Frieza's favorite wine."

Dodoria's jaw dropped. "Where the hell did you get this, Vegeta?"

Vegeta merely smiled, offering no answer.

Dodoria shot a glance at Zarbon, awaiting his reaction.

Vegeta continued, his voice dripping with malice. "This poison will cripple him, reducing his power level by more than ten times. In his weakened state, you two will strike with everything you've got. Finish him."

Zarbon's eyes narrowed further, suspicion lacing his voice. "Even with the enormous sum you're offering, Vegeta, is it really worth risking our necks? Losing Frieza as an employer could be a permanent setback."

Vegeta shook his head, leaning in slightly. "You're thinking too small, Zarbon. Once Frieza's gone, who do you think will inherit his empire? He has no heir, no successors."

A slow smirk spread across Zarbon's face as realization dawned. "I see... You intend for us to take the throne."

Vegeta chuckled darkly. "Always knew you were the sharp one, Zarbon."

"But surely you expect something in return, Vegeta," Zarbon pressed, his voice sly.

Vegeta waved off the concern. "We'll deal with that later. My priority is breaking free from Frieza's chains. And killing him is the only way out."

Dodoria, still uneasy, grunted. "We'll need some advance payment...in cash."

Vegeta didn't hesitate. He reached into his armor and pulled out a hefty bundle of notes, tossing it to Zarbon.

Zarbon caught the money with a smirk. "Keep your scouter on, Vegeta," he said, leaping into the air. "Let's go, Dodoria."

Dodoria, still wrestling with his conscience, hesitated but then followed suit. As they ascended, he voiced his concern. "Are you really sure about this, Zarbon? What about Cooler or King Cold? How do we explain this to them?"

Zarbon remained silent, his mind already calculating the risks and rewards.

Back on the ground, Vegeta's smirk faded into a serious expression. His entire plan hinged on their greed and fear. If all went according to plan, Frieza's reign would end, and Vegeta would be one step closer to his ultimate goal.

Yajirobe, who had been watching the exchange quietly, finally spoke up. "So... who's this Frieza guy you're trying to off? He sounds like bad news."

Vegeta shot him a warning glance. "You don't want to know, fatso. Trust me."

Krillin and Yamcha, still hidden behind the rock, were drenched in sweat. The power levels they had just felt were beyond anything they had ever encountered.

Yamcha's voice trembled as he whispered, "I thought we were strong, but out here, we're nothing."

Krillin nodded, his face pale. "And there's someone even Vegeta is scared of… this Frieza."

Vegeta strolled back to his pod, leaning against it with a pensive look on his face.

Yajirobe's stomach growled. "Hey, Vegeta. How about I go scrounge up some food?"

Vegeta's response was quick and sharp. "No." He knew Frieza's soldiers were crawling all over the planet. And for now, he needed Yajirobe close, as frustrating as that was.

With a resigned sigh, Yajirobe slumped down and pulled out a small sachet of nutrient powder from his pocket. He grimaced as he swallowed it, the taste as awful as ever.


Mr. Popo soared through the sky at his top speed, the wind whistling past his ears. His gaze was fixed ahead, where a tall, narrow cliff jutted out from the landscape. At its peak stood a large, white Namekian house, its domed structure glowing softly under the green sky.

Mr. Popo landed lightly on the cliff and approached the house, his feet barely making a sound on the smooth, stone pathway. The building was imposing, its rounded architecture blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings.

He reached the door and pressed the bell. The sound echoed through the house, a sharp RING! RING! that reverberated off the walls.

.

"NAIIL!" A deep voice boomed from within. "We have a visitor!"

Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing a tall, muscular Namekian with a serious expression. He looked down at Mr. Popo, his face softening into a smile. "Mr. Popo... it's been a long time."

Mr. Popo blinked, a look of confusion crossing his usually composed features. "Who are you?"

The tall Namekian paused, surprised by the question. "You don't remember me? It's Nail."

Mr. Popo's eyes widened slightly as recognition dawned. "Oh, Nail! I apologize. I didn't recognize you. The last time I saw you, you were just a little boy!"

Nail chuckled, stepping aside to let Mr. Popo in. "Time has a way of changing us all. Come in, Mr. Popo. Guru will be pleased to see you."

As Mr. Popo entered the house, the cool air inside provided a welcome contrast to the heat outside. The interior was vast, with high ceilings and walls adorned with ancient Namekian symbols. The atmosphere was heavy with a sense of history and respect.

Nail led the way through a long corridor, the echo of their footsteps filling the silence. Mr. Popo glanced around, taking in the intricate details of the place. The journey had been long, and now that he was here, he felt a deep sense of familiarity with the place.

"Guru is waiting for you," Nail said, stopping in front of a massive door at the end of the corridor. He pushed it open, revealing a spacious chamber filled with a soft light.

At the far end of the room, seated on a grand throne, was Guru, the eldest Namekian. His wise eyes were closed, but his presence was overwhelming. The air seemed to hum with energy as Mr. Popo approached.

Nail stood back respectfully, allowing Mr. Popo to step forward alone. As Mr. Popo drew nearer, Guru's eyes slowly opened, and a gentle smile spread across his face.

"Welcome, Mr. Popo," Guru said in a deep, resonant voice. "It has been many years since we last met. What brings you to my home today?"


Goku and Tien descended from the sky, landing softly at Khami's lookout. The serene, elevated platform was bathed in sunlight, and the gentle breeze carried the faint scent of flowers from the gardens below. In the distance, Khami and Korin sat together, sipping tea from delicate porcelain cups.

A newspaper lay open on the table between them, rustling slightly in the breeze. Khami was engrossed in conversation with the white-furred cat.

"I still can't believe Gelsea lost so easily," Khami mused, his voice tinged with mild disbelief.

Korin nodded in agreement, his tail swishing lazily behind him. "I know. Cadrid is still a force to be reckoned with."

Khami took a contemplative sip from his cup. "And that's despite Tonaldo leaving the team."

As they approached, Goku and Tien exchanged puzzled glances, clearly not following the conversation.

Tien cleared his throat, breaking the quiet chatter. "Ahem."

Khami looked up from his cup, momentarily surprised by the interruption.

Goku grinned, his usual carefree energy radiating from him. "What's up, Khami?"

Khami blinked a few times, recognizing the visitors. "Oh, Goku… and Tien. It's truly been a long time."

Goku's expression shifted slightly, becoming more serious. "You haven't heard from Mr. Popo recently, have you?"

Khami shook his head, setting his cup down. "No, I haven't. But I expect he must be close to Namek by now. He promised to contact me as soon as he arrived."

"Oh," Goku replied, a note of concern in his voice.

Meanwhile, Tien walked over to where Korin was sitting, his demeanor calm but focused. "Hey, Korin. How's it going?"

Korin looked up, a broad smile spreading across his face. "Fantastic," he replied, his voice warm with affection for the old friend.

Tien returned the smile, albeit faintly, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

Back at Goku's house, Chichi was gently feeding their baby, her movements slow and tender. The child's soft coos filled the room, adding to the warmth of the moment. Ox-King, a massive figure, sat in a sturdy chair at one end of the room, his gaze distant and wistful.

"If only your mother had lived to see this day," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "She would have been so happy to see her grandchild."

Chichi sighed softly, her eyes reflecting a mix of sorrow and acceptance. "Yes, Papa. But we all must leave this world someday."

Ox-King nodded glumly, the weight of years settling on his broad shoulders.

Chichi glanced toward the window, her brow furrowing slightly. "I hope Goku gets back soon. I don't want him catching another cold."

The Ox-King chuckled, his deep voice rumbling through the room. "Don't worry, dear. He'll be fine."

Suddenly, a knock echoed from the front door, breaking the peaceful atmosphere.

"I wonder who that could be?" Ox-King muttered as he rose from his chair, his large frame moving with surprising grace. He made his way to the door and opened it.

Standing there, with a familiar mischievous grin, was Master Roshi. "Well, hello, Ox-King!"

"Master Roshi!" Ox-King exclaimed, a smile spreading across his face.

The old martial arts master chuckled. "Hehehe. Where's Goku?"

"He's at Khami's place," Ox-King replied.

"Ah, I see," Master Roshi nodded thoughtfully. "And Tien is with him too."

Ox-King looked expectantly at the old master. "Come on, Master. At least have a cup of coffee with us!"

Master Roshi shook his head, his expression unusually serious. "Sorry, Ox, I'm in a bit of a hurry. I'll see you later!"

With that, Master Roshi hopped back into his car, the engine sputtering to life as he shifted into reverse. In no time, he was speeding away, the tires kicking up dust on the road.

Ox-King watched him go, a puzzled frown creasing his brow. "That's strange. Master Roshi never usually behaves like that."

As Master Roshi drove toward Khami's place, his forehead glistened with sweat. A shiver ran down his spine as memories from the previous night resurfaced, sending a chill through his old bones.


Zarbon and Dodoria finally landed in front of Frieza's massive spaceship, its towering presence casting long shadows over the barren landscape. The vessel gleamed under the harsh light of the alien sun, its surface reflecting a cold, metallic sheen that seemed to echo the icy nature of its master.

As their boots touched the ground, a regiment of Frieza's soldiers quickly assembled in neat rows, their armor clinking as they snapped to attention. The soldiers offered a crisp salute, their faces betraying no emotion, just the disciplined resolve drilled into them by years of service under the tyrant.

Zarbon's piercing eyes swept over the line of soldiers, his gaze as sharp as the edge of a blade. "Where's Bawarci, the chef?" he demanded, his voice cool and commanding.

One of the soldiers stepped forward, his posture stiff. "He's inside, preparing Lord Frieza's next meal, sir."

Without another word, Zarbon nodded and strode past the soldiers, the hem of his elegant cape brushing against the ground as he moved with practiced grace.

Dodoria, lagging slightly behind, allowed a sinister grin to spread across his brutish face. "You boys might be in for a surprise soon," he sneered, his voice laced with dark amusement.

A few of the soldiers exchanged uneasy glances, their eyebrows twitching with curiosity, but none dared to speak out. They knew better than to question their superiors—especially when those superiors were as dangerous as Zarbon and Dodoria.

With a nasty chuckle, Dodoria followed Zarbon inside the spaceship, the heavy doors closing behind them with a resounding thud that seemed to echo ominously through the still air.

...

Krillin and Yamcha were still huddled behind the rock, their bodies tense from the hours of waiting. The alien planet's grass, an unnaturally vibrant blue, had long since lost its novelty, and the two Earthlings were growing restless.

Yamcha leaned closer to Krillin, his voice barely a whisper. "Man, how much longer are we supposed to sit here like this?"

Krillin, his brow furrowed with exhaustion, shook his head. "Don't ask me. Vegeta's the one calling the shots now."

...

Not far from them, Yajirobe had succumbed to his own exhaustion, dozing off on the soft blue grass. His gentle snores were the only sounds disturbing the silence of the planet's surface.

Vegeta, meanwhile, sat in silent contemplation, leaning against his space-pod. His mind was a storm of thoughts and calculations, but outwardly, he remained as stoic as ever. His scouter flickered with life, showing him the faint signals that indicated Zarbon and Dodoria had arrived at Frieza's spaceship. A thin smile played on his lips, a sign that his plan was unfolding just as he had intended.


The massive old Namekian, Guru, sat in a throne-like chair built to accommodate his immense size. His eyes, half-closed with the weight of years, slowly opened as he sensed the presence of Nail and their guest. Despite his frail appearance, there was an undeniable aura of wisdom and power around him. "Ah, Popo. It is good to see you again. How have you been? And where is Khami?"

Mr. Popo offered a warm smile as he approached, holding out a sealed letter. "Everything is fine, Guru. Khami sent me with this letter for you."

Guru nodded slowly, his heavy eyelids fluttering as he reached for the letter. "Naiiiil," Guru called out, his voice resonating through the room with a deep, commanding tone. "Read this letter to me."

"Yes, master," Nail replied, stepping forward to take the letter from Guru's hand. With careful precision, he unfolded the letter and began to read aloud. "Greetings, Guru. I hope this letter finds you in good health."

Guru's face softened with a small, knowing smile. "Greetings and peace upon Khami. All praises be to God, I am in good health."

Nail continued, his voice steady and respectful. "My assistant, Mr. Popo, along with some of my students, has come to retrieve another student of mine who was kidnapped by a Saiyan and taken to your planet. As you may know, the journey from Earth to Namek is a long one, and unfortunately, our fuel stock is running dangerously low. Therefore, I humbly request you to provide us with some fuel oil for our spaceship. Mr. Popo will handle the payment. I would be deeply grateful for your assistance. Yours sincerely, Khami."

Guru let out a deep, rumbling sigh. "How could a Saiyan manage to kidnap a student of Khami's while he still lives? Has Khami grown that complacent?"

Mr. Popo, still holding his gentle smile, responded softly, "Unfortunately, Guru, Khami is not as strong as he once was."

...

Later, as Mr. Popo prepared to depart, the enormous can of fuel oil in tow, he hesitated, turning back to Guru. "Before I leave, I must ask... Why do you and Nail look so troubled? Has something happened?"

Guru's expression grew somber, his ancient face marked by sorrow. "Nail, you explain. I do not have the strength to recount it."

Nail's face darkened as he spoke. "Last month, a group of aliens landed on our planet."

Mr. Popo's eyes widened in shock. "Aliens?"

Nail nodded grimly. "Yes. They came seeking to purchase Ragon from us. It was clear their intentions were malicious, so we refused. Since then, they have been attacking our villages, torturing our people to force the location of the Ragon mines from us. Thousands of our brothers and sisters have been massacred. We fear the worst... There's talk that they plan to annihilate most of our population and sell our planet to a multigalactic resort."

Mr. Popo's expression turned grave. "That's... horrific. But why haven't you stopped them? Are they truly that powerful?"

Nail's voice was heavy with frustration and despair. "Yes. Terrifyingly so. Some of our strongest warriors were defeated with ease, as if they were nothing. If only Guru were still in his prime, he could have wiped them out effortlessly. But now... as you can see, even walking is a struggle for him."

Guru sighed deeply, the weight of his years evident in his voice. "I was considering asking you to inform the son of Katas about our plight. But I suspect he too has grown old and weak, much like myself."

Mr. Popo looked down, his thoughts deep and troubled. "Yes, Khami has also aged... But I might know someone who could help."

Guru's tired eyes opened slightly, a flicker of hope sparking within them. "Who?"

Mr. Popo reached into his pocket, pulling out a small device connected wirelessly to his spaceship's systems. "How about a video call with Khami? He would be pleased to hear from you, especially after so long."

Guru's expression softened, curiosity and hope mingling in his ancient gaze. "Is that possible from such a distance? If it is, then by all means, let's do it."


Goku and Tien stepped out of a dimly lit chamber, their clothes torn and ragged, evidence of the grueling ordeal they had just endured. Their faces, though marked with fatigue, held a newfound intensity—a transformation had occurred within them. The air around them seemed charged, a subtle yet undeniable shift in their presence.

Khami and Korin were waiting for them, the anticipation in their eyes mingling with concern.

Khami broke the silence, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Didn't I tell you? There was no way you'd last a full day in there. It's only been six hours."

Korin nodded in agreement. "I'm surprised you survived as long as you did. Your training over the past two years must have paid off in ways you hadn't imagined."

Goku and Tien approached, their steps measured and deliberate. There was a quiet confidence in their demeanor, as if the challenges they had just faced had tempered their spirits, forging them into something greater. They were the same men—but at the same time, they were not.

Goku sniffed at his tattered collar and chuckled lightly. "Man, I really need to change into something less... crispy."

Tien clenched and unclenched his fist, feeling the raw power coursing through his veins. It was almost surreal, like he was still getting accustomed to this newfound strength.

Before they could exchange more words, the shrill sound of a phone ringing pierced the air.

Khami raised a hand, signaling for them to wait. "Excuse me," he said, his tone suddenly serious as he hurried inside. He entered a darkened room and picked up the phone, his expression tightening as he listened. "A video call... from the spaceship. Perfect timing."

Moments later, Khami returned, his face etched with worry. The gravity of whatever he had just heard weighed heavily on him.

Goku and Tien exchanged a glance, sensing the change in the atmosphere. "Who is it?" Tien asked, his voice steady but tinged with curiosity.

Khami hesitated for a moment before handing the phone to Goku. "Goku, Tien... Someone needs to speak with you." His voice was strained, revealing the depth of his concern.

Korin, sensing something amiss, stepped closer. "Khami, what's going on? Is there something we should be worried about?"

Khami nodded, his eyes dark with concern. "Yes, Korin. My planet... Namek is in grave danger."

Korin's eyes widened in shock. "What?! But I thought Namek was protected by legendary warriors?"

Khami sighed heavily, the weight of his words almost too much to bear. "It was, once. But there were only a few of them left the last time I mentioned it. Now, those warriors have either aged, passed on, or left the planet. As it stands... Namek is defenseless."

...

Goku's face darkened as he finished the call, his fists clenched in anger. "How dare they!"

Tien's expression was equally serious, his brow furrowed in thought. "This is indeed something to worry about. I just hope we can be of some help."

Goku's teeth were gritted, his rage barely contained. Oppression... He despised it with every fiber of his being. Ever since he was a child, his heart had always gone out to those who suffered, no matter who they were.

Korin watched the scene unfold, a deep unease settling in his chest. It was rare to see Goku angry, and when he did get angry, it was a sight to behold—something that made even the bravest warriors pause.


Guru's weary eyes narrowed as he gazed at Mr. Popo, his ancient wisdom tempered by the weight of countless years. "Do you truly believe your friends could make a difference, Popo?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of hope and doubt.

Mr. Popo nodded with quiet confidence. "Yes, Guru, I do." His thoughts drifted to Goku, the relentless warrior who had pushed his limits time and again, surpassing every expectation during his training with King Gai. Mr. Popo knew that Goku's power had likely grown tremendously in the past year as well, and if anyone could stand against the looming threat, it would be him.

Nail stepped forward, his expression serious as he handed a slip of paper to Mr. Popo. "This is the shortcut," he said, his voice low and grave.

Mr. Popo accepted the paper, tucking it into his pocket with care. "Thank you," he replied, sensing the gravity of the journey ahead.

"Be careful," Nail warned, his eyes narrowing with concern. "The warphole is treacherous, filled with dangers even the most skilled pilots fear."

A reassuring smile tugged at the corners of Mr. Popo's mouth. "Don't worry, Nail. I'm the best driver you'll ever meet. I'll be back in a week," he said with a wave, his tone light but resolute.

As Mr. Popo walked toward the exit, Nail silently accompanied him, the air heavy with unspoken fears. Once outside, Mr. Popo took a deep breath, his gaze lifting to the sky. With a sudden burst of energy, he ignited his aura, the power radiating from him like a beacon, and shot into the sky, disappearing into the vastness of space.


Meanwhile, almost halfway across the planet, Frieza's lips curled into a sinister smile as he listened to Zarbon. The icy tyrant's tail flicked with amusement, his dark eyes glinting with malice. "Oh, Vegeta," Frieza murmured, his voice dripping with contempt and cruel delight. "Hm hm hm..."

To be continued...


Can Goku and Tien help out the helpless people of Namek? Or will Frieza's reign of destruction continue unhindered? Find out on DBZ:ONE!