Chapter 36 – The Consequence of Confidence

Krillin resolutely took a step forward, volunteering himself as the initial combatant. "I'll go first."

"No, it should be me," Yamcha countered, frowning with both determination and selflessness. "I can still be revived with the Dragon Balls, so I have more leeway than you."

In another timeline, Krillin might have relented to Yamcha's logic, acknowledging the wisdom in those words. In this timeline, however…

"No, I will go first. Ajax hit the nail on the head when he said you've been a little too confident lately. I'll fight them first, carefully, and you can observe their tactics so you don't get surprised by anything." Krillin declared firmly, shooting down Yamcha's proposal.

As Krillin stepped forward, a lone Saibaman detached itself from the cluster. A profuse amount of saliva dripped from its mouth, and its claws flexed eagerly as though scratching at something in the air.

An electric atmosphere enveloped Krillin and the Saibaman as they locked eyes. In an instant, they vanished from their respective positions, colliding in the middle with a resounding thud that sent small shockwaves reverberating through the air.

Reappearing momentarily, the two combatants unleashed a flurry of fists flying at each other, their movements surpassing the limitations of the naked eye. They vanished once more, leaving behind only the resonant symphony of their ferocious clashes.

"Krillin is doing quite well," Tien remarked calmly as his eyes flickered, diligently tracking the ongoing battle. "Individually, it appears these Saibamen aren't as formidable as we anticipated."

Tien's observations received only perfunctory responses as the collective attention of the Z Fighters remained on tracking the swift and intricate movements unfolding in the clash between Krillin and the Saibaman.

Meanwhile, within the heart of the confrontation, Krillin's combat expertise came to the forefront as his eyes caught a fleeting vulnerability in the Saibaman's defenses, clear as day. Seizing the opportunity, he delivered a solid punch that found its mark on the Saibaman's face, following it up with a double-handed hammer strike that sent the Saibaman crashing to the ground below.

Having momentarily subdued the Saibaman, Krillin raised both arms. A surge of energy enveloped him as he charged up a potent Ki blast, the energy humming and crackling between his palms. Without giving his foe a chance to recover, Krillin unleashed the concentrated power toward the fallen Saibaman. The Ki blast streaked through the air with unerring accuracy, impacting the Saibaman with formidable force.

The hapless Saibaman let out a tortured scream as the blast relentlessly drove it into the ground, culminating in an explosion that left a small plume of smoke and debris in its wake.

Krillin, strategically touching down at a secure distance, maintained a vigilant stance, his senses heightened to any potential surprise tactics.

As the smoke gradually dissipated, it revealed an injured Saibaman lying splayed on its back, struggling to rise against the weight of its defeat. It was unmistakably battered, covered in burn wounds and scars as it attempted to recover from the lingering effects of the Ki blast.

"You're defeated! Back down!" Krillin yelled; a declaration of triumph that echoed across the battlefield.

However, Krillin's authoritative command seemed to fall on deaf ears as the injured Saibaman pressed forward once again, fueled by an almost instinctive will to fight. A disheartening realization settled on Krillin as the distasteful choice he was compelled to make became increasingly clear. While Krillin has consistently avoided unnecessary bloodshed whenever possible, it did not mean he wouldn't make the tough call when push came to shove.

Krillin decided to extend the Saibaman one final chance. If it continues to persist in its advance, then the Saibaman is leaving him with no other alternative. Krillin's eyes honed in on his enemy. Despite its tenacity, the Saibaman was unmistakably weaker than before, displaying a visible limp as it darted forward.

Krillin closed the distance with a rapid dash, meeting the Saibaman in the middle. In a fluid motion, his hands executed a quick snap, followed by a lightning-quick roundhouse kick that landed resoundingly.

The Saibaman, overwhelmed by the force, was sent sprawling once again, propelled across the terrain by the momentum of the strike. As the Saibaman came to a stop, Krillin, standing tall and imposing, addressed his fallen adversary. "This is your last chance to back down!"

The Saibaman did not, in fact, back down, instead rising defiantly from the ground with a single-minded determination to kill.

It was as if the creature did not comprehend his words, which is entirely possible, now that Krillin really thinks about it. However, he's not going to dwell on it too deeply. With a resolute sigh, blue light illuminated Krillin's face as he began channeling the Turtle School's signature move.

As the Saibaman charged towards him, Krillin unleashed his attack, a torrent of azure energy surging forward from his hands.

"Kamehameha!"

The Saibaman collided headfirst into the oncoming attack, its silhouette consumed by the radiant beam as it faced the full force of the Kamehameha.

The beam tore through the battlefield as it continued along its trajectory as if it had never impacted the Saibaman. When the dust settled, no traces of the Saibaman's presence lingered, having been erased from existence.

Amidst the aftermath, the echoes of slow clapping disrupted the silence from none other than Nappa. His voice carried begrudging acknowledgment of Krillin's victory.

"Dramatic Finish! Well done! Next."

Yamcha, his enthusiasm reignited with Krillin's effortless victory, allowed a cocky smirk to grow as he strode forth, practically itching to prove his mettle. Yamcha gave Krillin a high five as he passed, congratulating his friend on his victory.

From Nappa's side, another Saibaman, equally savage in demeanor, broke rank.

With a casual yet deliberate gesture, Yamcha beckoned the creature with a single hand in a gesture universally understood as "bring it on".

The infuriated Saibaman hurled itself at Yamcha, momentarily vanishing from view as it rapidly closed the distance. In contrast to Krillin, Yamcha decided to stand his ground, his focus unwavering and his senses sharp. With meticulous precision, he intercepted the Saibaman's initial assault, catching the creature's attack with his forearm.

A low growl emanated from the Saibaman as it shifted tactics, unleashing a flurry of strikes in quick succession. Yamcha effortlessly evaded the onslaught, performing a nimble dance as he weaved back and forth around the strikes. After each dodge, Yamcha strategically retreated by taking calculated steps backward to gauge the Saibaman's attack patterns and anticipate its subsequent moves.

Amidst the chaotic fray, the Saibaman employed an unexpected and grotesque tactic. With an abrupt and unnerving motion, it directed its swollen head downward, unleashing a spray of corrosive acid.

Yamcha's eyes widened in response as he threw himself out of harm's way, executing a nimble roll that narrowly brought him out of the trajectory of the corrosive liquid.

As Yamcha regained his footing, he narrowed his eyes. He hates to admit it, but Ajax had been right. His confidence had nearly cost him the match. The playful smirk on Yamcha's face faded and a focused intensity replaced it. It's time to get serious. From this moment forward, the Saibaman won't be able to do anything. 

Yamcha raised his right forearm directly upwards, perfectly perpendicular to the ground.

"Spirit Ball!"

At that moment, a luminous orb of ki materialized, hovering above his open palm. With a resounding yell, Yamcha slashed his arms downwards and sent the Spirit Ball soaring through the air, zeroing in on the Saibaman with remarkable speed and precision.

Yamcha watched as the Spirit Ball crashed into the charging Saibaman's face. To his satisfaction, the sphere did not disperse upon contact; instead, it whirled a short distance away, maintaining its presence on the battlefield.

Yamcha had been quite proud when he finally figured out the method to prevent the Spirit Ball from dispersing upon impact without reducing its power. This additional capability of his attack had unlocked an entirely new realm of possibilities. The fact of the matter is, if he can reuse the Spirit Ball, then there's nothing stopping him from hammering his enemies back and forth in the air like a badass. Or, get this, simultaneously have two Spirit Balls at the same time!

Capitalizing on the Saibaman's disorientation, Yamcha swiftly reentered melee range. His battle cry resonated as he unleashed the next phase of his combo.

"Neo Wolf Fang Fist!"

A torrent of strikes rained down on the Saibaman, each strike of Yamcha's Neo Wolf Fang Fist forming a spectral wolf in the air—an ethereal manifestation of the technique. The Saibaman, helpless before Yamcha's onslaught, was sent hurtling backward, green blood spurting from its mouth as a testament to the ferocity of the martial technique.

However, Yamcha's onslaught was not over. With deft flicks of his wrist, the Spirit Ball, previously hovering nearby, slammed itself into the ground and tunneled beneath the earth, disappearing from view. Simultaneously, Yamcha leaped gracefully into the air for the climax of his assault, blue light coalescing in his hands as he charged his final move.

Upon hitting the ground, the battered and disoriented Saibaman screeched as the Spirit Ball, having drilled beneath it, resurfaced with perfect timing. It ascended with great momentum, colliding forcefully with the Saibaman's back and propelling the creature skyward helplessly, right into Yamcha's line of fire.

With a swift thrust of his arms, Yamcha seamlessly concluded his combo, unleashing the full force of his final move and sealing the Saibaman's fate.

"Kamehameha!"

Yamcha's formidable Kamehameha, at least on par if not more potent than Krillin's, crashed into the already battered Saibaman, instantly wiping it from the face of the Earth. True to Yamcha's promise, the Saibaman had no further opportunity to react. In this bout, Yamcha had unmistakably emerged victorious.

Suspended in the air and basking in the glory of his victory, Yamcha cast a calculated gaze upon the remaining four Saibamen. With a jerk of his arms and a smirk, Yamcha redirected his still-active Kamehameha toward Nappa and the cluster of Saibamen. The pulsating energy surged, leaving behind a curved trail as it homed in on its new targets. The final image etched into Yamcha's vision before the Kamehameha landed was Nappa cocking an unimpressed eyebrow. Then, the explosion shook the ground.

Yamcha landed lightly, observing the aftermath with caution like Ajax had advised him. As the dust gradually settled, the devastation and carnage wrought by Yamcha's attack came into view. Two Saibamen had died, their grotesque forms contorted with one of the two… not exactly in one piece. Another Saibaman, somewhat hurt and lightly singed, managed to endure, having managed to take a defensive stance in time.

In stark contrast, Nappa emerged virtually unscathed, standing amidst the smoldering earth with a single, casually outstretched palm with only a few superficial cuts on his skin.

As the dust cleared further, an unexpected scene unfolded. From behind Nappa, another Saibaman dropped nonchalantly to the ground, appearing even less affected by the explosion. The creature strolled with a slight swagger out from the Saiyan General's shadow.

Sensing the movement behind him, Nappa turned, and a wry smile crept across his face as he recognized who it was. Somehow, he was not surprised.

"Pretty smart, Alpha, knowing that the safest place is behind my back."

Alpha responded to Nappa's words with a victorious peace sign, a playful gesture greatly at odds with its menacing appearance. Seizing the moment when all eyes were on it, Alpha struck a pose reminiscent of a rock star reaching the climax of his signature performance, wearing an expression of supreme satisfaction, as if basking in the applause of an ecstatic audience.

Nappa gave Alpha a dry look.

Nappa then turned to Vegeta, checking if his Prince was alright. However, Nappa's mouth snapped shut immediately at the sight he saw.

Meanwhile, Yamcha, having successfully achieved a small victory, sported a triumphant grin. He turned towards the rest of the Z Fighters, satisfaction glinting in his eyes, and offered a quick thumbs up. "We're up by two!"

"Hey, you."

Yamcha turned and found himself the target of Vegeta's piercing stare.

The Saiyan Prince, devoid of any hint of amusement, had opened his eyes with a severity that swiftly dispelled Yamcha's triumphant mood. Although Vegeta continued to lean casually against the upturned piece of rock, the stare he directed at Yamcha was anything but.

Suddenly apprehensive under Vegeta's undivided attention, Yamcha swallowed his nervousness before parting his lips to reply. He stammered, voice quivering with uncertainty and fear, "W-what?"

"Are you deaf?"

"N-no…?"

"Did Nappa not specify this was a one-on-one deathmatch?" The Saiyan Prince's gaze turned terrifyingly cold. "Did you believe that taking a cheap shot and killing the other two makes you strong?"

Yamcha involuntarily took a half-step back at those blunt words, his frame shaking. All the bravado that had previously adorned him like armor dissipated, leaving behind only vulnerability in its wake. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of Yamcha's stomach as he realized he had stepped into some, deep, deep shit.

The ground began to tremble from Vegeta's sheer presence as the Prince of All Saiyans pushed off the rock he had been leaning against, standing upright. Then, with deliberate slowness, he extended a single finger, pointing it directly at Yamcha with a chilling finality like a god delivering divine judgment.

"Since rules and honor clearly mean nothing to you, then let's dispense with the formalities and proceed straight to the main event you so eagerly desired: your execution."

In an instant, Yamcha's eyes were blown wide open, the color draining from his face at the ominous decree. A cold shiver raced down his spine as he urgently began to backtrack with increasing speed.

Sensing the imminent danger, Krillin and Tien surged forward in an attempt to intercept the unfolding disaster. Simultaneously, Chiaotzu harnessed his telekinetic abilities, straining to drag Yamcha out of harm's way. However, all of their efforts made not a single difference.

With a cruel nonchalance, Vegeta executed his judgment with a single flick of his finger. The air around Yamcha crackled with energy, and Yamcha screamed in agony as an enormous explosion that he had no hopes of evading engulfed him.

The destructive force of the blast sent shockwaves across the battlefield, hurling Krillin and Tien backward with brutal intensity. Tien, agile as ever, managed to skid across the ground, retaining some semblance of balance. In contrast, Krillin tumbled through the air, somersaulting head over heels in the chaotic aftermath.

As the explosion cleared, Yamcha lay lifeless in a crater, his form splayed on its side. The once-confident warrior, who had only moments ago reveled in a small victory against the Saibamen, now bore the consequence of his confidence.

A collective gasp of shock, horror, and disbelief escaped the Z Fighters. Yamcha had not been weak. In fact, Yamcha had been one of their reliable fighters, but he now lay lifeless in the crater, his life casually extinguished by a mere flick of the enemy's finger. The abruptness of Yamcha's demise paralyzed them as they struggled to make sense of the incomprehensible display of power. Distinctly, they felt the cold wings of despair flutter upon their shoulders.

Piccolo, usually stoic and composed, felt a great pressure settle upon him. That wasn't a battle. As Vegeta had said, it had been an execution. Victory had been an impossibility. Piccolo felt himself erupt in cold sweat as he stared at Vegeta, whose figure was becoming less like an enemy and more like a force of nature, capable of ending them all in the blink of an eye.

Nappa interjected with a lighthearted whistle that broke everyone out of their stupor, drawing their attention to the Saiyan. He gave Vegeta a teasing grin.

"You haven't used 'Dirty Fireworks' in a while, Vegeta."

Vegeta's narrowed eyes, sharp as a dagger, zeroed in on his partner, a silent warning for Nappa to tread carefully.

"Right, right, we're not calling it that," Nappa hastily corrected himself and attempted to salvage his mistimed jest with an awkward thumbs-up.

Nappa's attempt at humor was met with stoic silence from Vegeta, who remained unamused by Nappa's playful banter. However, the Saiyan Prince ultimately shifted his gaze away and seamlessly returned to his nonchalant pose. Leaning against the slab of rock once more, he closed his eyes, as if nothing of note had occurred. Already, Yamcha's execution had been dismissed as a mere afterthought.

In the ensuing dead silence, Vegeta's command resounded with chilling clarity, each syllable echoing like a foreboding bell tolling for their imminent death.

"Next."