Chapter 33 – Gathering the Gang

~ 5 Minutes Before the Saiyans' Arrival: Border of Wasteland ~

Piccolo unleashed a rapid barrage of punches, his fists a green blur as they collided with Gohan's outstretched arms. The force of each impact pierced through the young boy, causing him to stagger under Piccolo's physical strength, and leaving him vulnerable for just a fleeting moment. Without hesitation, Piccolo's next strike snaked through Gohan's guard, finding its mark with Gohan's gut in a solid, resonant thud.

A sharp wheeze escaped Gohan's lips, forced out by the impact of the strike. His breath caught in his throat, leaving him gasping for air that stubbornly refused to fill his lungs. Gohan stumbled and doubled over, hands instinctively finding support on his knees. In this vulnerable stance, Gohan extended a hand outward, a silent request to momentarily pause the sparring session.

Piccolo paused in his follow-up strike, deeply frowning at Gohan's action. To Gohan's credit, his improvements throughout their training had been tremendous, and Piccolo can hardly remember the whiny, annoying brat of yesteryear. However, instances like this emphasized to Piccolo that Gohan was still not ready. He's just too naïve.

Though this a sparring session, the impending battle against the Saiyans will not be. The Saiyans will not be kind enough to grant moments of respite simply because Gohan's breath was momentarily taken away because what it will be is an unforgiving struggle for survival. A pause is a luxury that will not exist.

The increasingly obvious issue with Gohan, Piccolo thinks, is that the boy is just too civilized. He had long noted Gohan's inherent aversion to violence, evident in his preference for a defensive fighting style. While adopting a defensive approach in combat isn't inherently problematic, what is problematic is Gohan's reluctance to seize clear opportunities to go on the offensive.

Piccolo cannot emphasize enough how significant of a flaw this is for Gohan. The art of a defensive fighting style goes beyond merely having a solid defense; it also demands a keen recognition of opportune moments to launch devastating counterattacks. In battle, relying solely on defense as Gohan tends to do is nothing more than passivity. At that point, the fight is no longer a fight. It was just a precarious waiting game of when the enemy would finally breach your defenses.

"Not good enough, Gohan. I understand your desire to fight defensively, but if you choose that path, then you must consistently land counterattacks. Throughout this entire spar, you've launched only five."

Gohan's expression shifted to a saddened frown as he straightened himself back up from his previous doubled-over position, realizing he had disappointed Mr. Piccolo again.

"I get it, Mr. Piccolo, but you're so much stronger than me! Attacking you doesn't seem to do anything, and I don't want to hurt you."

Piccolo, however, narrowed his eyes at Gohan's justification, effortlessly seeing through the excuse. Gohan should know better than to make excuses for his mistakes. He taught him to be better than that.

"Don't make excuses. And you still haven't fixed your other problem either. When facing a superior opponent, absorbing hits is not an option. A single well-placed strike can be enough to determine the outcome of the entire battle. You must dodge."

Piccolo purposefully strode toward Gohan, closing the distance between them. Not one to rely solely on words, Piccolo reinforced his previous points with a swift yet powerful flick to Gohan's head. A sharp snap echoed with the slightly admonishing strike, prompting Gohan to dramatically cover his forehead and collapse onto his back, sprawling out on the dusty ground.

Piccolo assumed his signature stance, arms crossed, standing stoically. He watched as Gohan, still prone on the ground, pouted at the flick, his cheeks puffing up like a pufferfish. Then, pretending to be drained of all strength from the strike, Gohan feebly reached for an apple from his snack pile a few steps away.

Piccolo rolled his eyes. This brat had been getting too comfortable with him lately, enough to start pushing boundaries, and to this day, he couldn't fathom why on Earth he put up with it. With a nonchalant jerk of his hand, Piccolo harnessed his telekinetic abilities to lift a lone apple from the pile and sent it sailing gracefully into Gohan's outstretched hands.

Gohan flashed a genuinely grateful smile, and his hand smoothly delivered the apple to his mouth without a trace of previous weakness. With practiced ease, Gohan took a bite, his eyes squinting into happy slits as he savored the fruit's sweetness.

"Are you at least proud of me for the progress I've made so far, Mr. Piccolo?" Gohan said, his mouth stuffed full of apples.

"Don't talk when you're chewing. And no, not until you addressed those issues that I had emphasized to you far too many times."

In truth, he is alre– no. Piccolo abruptly silenced his own thoughts. Gohan is here because he is an asset for world domination. Gohan's impressive progress can be attributed to him, the Demon King, being f*cking excellent at teaching. He would rather die than admit anything else to Gohan– or himself for that matter.

In the next moment, an eruption of power descended in the distance, cutting off any further conversation and causing Gohan to choke on his apple, the young Saiyan practically coughing his lungs out as the fruit took an impromptu field trip down the wrong pipe.

The tranquility of the training session ended in an instant, all playfulness and levity dissipating as Piccolo and Gohan redirected their focus toward the surging power. Piccolo's stoic expression intensified, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the source of the Ki.

On the other hand, Gohan swiftly sat up, his fear apparent as he trembled at the thought of facing a powerhouse of such magnitude.

At this moment, a hand landed reassuringly on Gohan's shoulder, providing a steadying anchor. When Gohan looked up, he saw Piccolo nod, understanding that his mentor was silently conveying that he was not alone.

Piccolo managed to maintain his collected expression as Gohan gradually regained composure. However, as Gohan turned away, Piccolo's countenance shifted. A scowl creased his features as he redirected his attention toward the two distant formidable forces, one unmistakably overshadowing the other.

Although both adversaries were stronger than he had anticipated, the sheer power of the more imposing one had cast an enormous shadow over his confidence. While he had grown considerably more powerful since his encounter with Raditz, he still felt unease grip him as the enemy so casually flaunted his Ki.

Piccolo keenly felt the pressure settling on his shoulders. Like what that Ajax brat had told him a year ago, he currently stood as the planet's strongest, so the burden of confronting these overwhelming invaders fell squarely on his shoulders more so than anyone else. That being said, he understood with grim clarity that against that enormous power, presumably Vegeta's, his chances of victory were perilously slim.

Piccolo's jaw clenched tightly. 'So, this is why Vegeta said it wouldn't make a difference whether we knew when they arrived or not.'

Narrowing his eyes with steely resolve, Piccolo stretched his senses outward to read the Saiyan's ki through the vast network of ki that crisscrossed the world.

"Wait, Gohan. They're headed our way, likely utilizing those scouters that Raditz had. Since they're coming to us, we're going to choose the battlefield."

Effortlessly, Piccolo ascended into the air, positioning himself above the terrain. He paused, sensing that Gohan had yet to leave the ground. His gaze refocused on Gohan, who, it turns out, had been busy stuffing handfuls of apples into the pockets of his Gi.

Piccolo closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and counted to ten. His eyes opened just enough to convey an unimpressed, half-lidded gaze. Freaking Saiyans and their insatiable appetites. He swears to his other half, this kid is going to give him gray hairs– and he doesn't even have any hair!

"We won't have the luxury of snacking when we're fighting for our lives, Gohan. Hurry up and follow me!" Piccolo asserted his tone firm with a hint of reprimand. 

In response, Gohan could only manage a sheepish smile in acknowledgment of the scolding. He lifted off the ground, transitioning from a carefree boy stashing snacks to a more serious and determined fighter.

And so, the duo took to the skies, their bodies cutting through the air to the fated battlefield, where destiny awaited.

~ Moments Later: Wasteland ~

Piccolo and Gohan touched down amidst the rugged expanse of a wasteland. Piccolo's keen eyes scanned the rather familiar surroundings.

Vast desolate plains stretched before them, punctuated sporadically by imposing rock formations that jutted upwards from the earth like jagged fangs. The absence of wind rendered the small patches of grass motionless, their blades frozen in time. Even the dirt on the ground remained undisturbed, adding to the eerie stillness of the wasteland.

For Piccolo and Gohan, this desolate area was saturated with memories and echoes of countless hours of training. It was a space filled with their tears, sweat, blood, and progress; a crucible for the duo that not only molded their combat edge but also the bond between them.

Piccolo and Gohan instinctively tensed as they sensed two additional signatures closing in rapidly, not as colossal as the distant behemoths but formidable nonetheless, and certainly not inferior to what Raditz had demonstrated a year before.

Moments later, a figure materialized with blurring speed, ricocheting off a rock pillar before landing gracefully in their midst. It was Krillin, dressed in the iconic turtle school Gi, hands confidently resting on his hips, and a friendly smile adorning his face.

"Piccolo," Krillin greeted with a respectful nod, acknowledging the Namekian's presence. However, his attention swiftly shifted towards Gohan, who stood beside the former Demon King. A subtle expression of amazement graced Krillin's features as he remarked, "Wow, except for your hair, you look just like your dad when he was your age. Although, Goku certainly wasn't as strong as you are back then."

"Hello, Mr. Krillin." Gohan offered a polite greeting in response.

Krillin's face immediately lit up with a genuine smile.

"You're polite! And you know who I am!"

"Of course! My mom always reminded me to mind my manners." Gohan explained with a shy smile. "And Dad introduced me to everyone about a year ago at Master Roshi's place. Don't you remember?"

Krillin, momentarily taken aback, stammered, "Uh, y– yeah, of course I do! I'm just surprised you still remember me!"

Piccolo interjected at this juncture, cutting the conversation off by addressing Krillin.

"Hey. Another signature is approaching, roughly equal in strength as you. I assume it's another one of your friends?"

"Yeah, that should be Yamcha," Krillin confirmed, tilting his head as he read the incoming ki.

True to Krillin's assertion, Yamcha made a rather theatrical entrance, landing with a flair that matched his dramatic style. He nodded casually, a cocky smile playing on his lips, as he greeted those gathered. "Hey, everyone. Not late to the party, I'm guessing?"

Piccolo audibly huffed, unimpressed by Yamcha's ostentatious entrance. What's the point of all that showy bullshit? In a battle, practicality reigned supreme. Piccolo chose to direct his attention on the already much closer presences of Vegeta and Nappa and tuned out Krillin busying himself with the introductions between Yamcha and Gohan.

A heavy silence soon draped over the assembled warriors, each pressured by the rapidly approaching signature of the Saiyan threat.

Breaking the silence, Yamcha turned to Krillin with a wry grin, "You nervous, buddy?"

"Hell yeah, who wouldn't be?" A brief humorless chuckle escaped Krillin.

"Well, if it helps, just imagine that you're fighting this battle for your girlfriend. You have to win because that is the only way to reunite with her. Heck, that's my motivation too! I am going to survive this battle and ask Bulma out again!"

Krillin shot Yamcha a weird look. "Don't jinx it, dude. But you're right; Maron is still waiting for me. I can't afford to lose!"

Everyone tensed as the Ki signatures drew alarmingly near, the Saiyans' silhouettes becoming visible in the distance. The atmosphere crackled with a combination of nervous energy and actual energy as Piccolo shouted a warning.

"Get ready! Here they come!"