Chapter 36: The value of training

The next bonus chapter coming in some hours!

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Turles stood in front of Frieza, his blood boiling as he weighed his options. He had just been approached with an "offer" to join the emperor's empire, but the proud Saiyan wanted nothing to do with being a subordinate, even to someone as powerful as Frieza.

"I don't need you!" Turles spat, charging toward Frieza. His fists crackled with energy, and he launched a rapid series of attacks, hoping to catch the galactic tyrant off guard.

Frieza, however, didn't care, he effortlessly sidestepped each strike. His movements were so fluid, so casual, that it was as if he didn't even see Turles as a threat. Each of Turles' blows missed their mark, landing only in the air where Frieza had just been.

Furious, Turles let out a roar and released a powerful ki blast at point-blank range, intending to obliterate the ground beneath them. But Frieza barely acknowledged it, raising his hand and making a simple gripping gesture in the air.

Suddenly, Turles felt his entire body lock up. His limbs were immobilized, held in place by Frieza's telekinetic grip. A searing pain surged through him as if invisible chains were squeezing his body, crushing his muscles and bones. He let out a pained scream, his teeth gritted in agony as the pressure increased.

Frieza, still calm, began to move his hand in small motions, and Turles' body followed helplessly. It was as if he had become a puppet on strings. Frieza's telekinesis tossed him left and right, slamming him into the ground and the nearby rock formations with brutal force. Each impact sent shockwaves through the terrain, and each time Turles tried to move, the invisible grip tightened.

"Pathetic," Frieza muttered, his voice dripping with disdain. "Is this truly all the fight you can muster, Saiyan?"

With a flick of his wrist, Frieza sent Turles crashing to the ground, where he lay gasping for breath, his body bruised and bloodied from the relentless assault. His pride was shattered, and the realization of his weakness hit him harder than any of Frieza's blows.

Turles slammed his fist into the ground in frustration, gritting his teeth as he cursed his inability to fight back. "Damn it… I… I won't be controlled by anyone!" he shouted, more to himself than to Frieza.

But Frieza, with calm indifference, crouched down, his crimson eyes locking onto Turles, who struggled to lift his bloodied head from the dirt.

"You Saiyans truly are a waste of potential," Frieza said coldly. "Always relying on shortcuts… on external sources of power." He opened his palm, and in an instant, the legendary Tree of Might fruit appeared in his hand, glowing with its forbidden energy.

Turles' eyes widened in shock and disbelief. He had been searching for that fruit for years, chasing its mythical power across the galaxy. And yet here it was, casually in the palm of Frieza's hand. His breathing quickened, his body trembling with a mix of desperation and greed.

"How… how did you…?" Turles stammered, barely able to speak through the pain.

Frieza's lips curled into a mocking smile. "You rely on a fruit for power, and you have the gall to call yourself a warrior?" His voice was sharp, each word dripping with contempt. "I located this insignificant fruit by simply reversing the ki signature it emits, tracing it back to the dead planet where the Tree of Might once consumed everything in its path. Such petty power."

Frieza paused, examining the fruit in his hand for a moment before turning his attention back to the broken Saiyan. "You disgust me, Turles. You have the genes of a race capable of achieving the most extraordinary power in the universe, and yet, here you are, chasing after a shortcut. Pathetic."

Turles stared at the fruit, his mind swirling with both fear and desire. But as Frieza's words cut through him, something else began to stir within. Shame. He had prided himself on being a Saiyan warrior, a force to be reckoned with, and yet, in this moment, he felt small, insignificant.

Frieza's gaze darkened. "Let me show you how futile your reliance on such things truly is."

With a swift motion, Frieza closed his hand around the fruit, and the sound of it crushing echoed in the silence. The glowing orb of power disintegrated into dust, falling between Frieza's fingers and vanishing into the air.

Turles let out a gasp of disbelief, his eyes widening in horror as he watched the only source of power he had pursued for so long disappear before his very eyes.

"NO!" he screamed, lunging forward, but his body was still too weak to even stand properly. He collapsed back onto the ground, his hands reaching out futilely toward where the fruit had once been.

Frieza stood, looming over Turles, his expression unreadable. "I do not tolerate weakness," he said softly, his voice like ice. "If you want power, you will earn it the proper way. No shortcuts. No tricks. Only hard work and discipline will allow you to rise to my level."

Frieza raised his hand once more, but this time, a new energy construct formed in the air. It was a shimmering, glowing projection of two figures, one with spiky golden hair, glowing with an aura of pure power, and the other standing tall and proud with a fierce expression.

Turles' eyes widened in shock as he recognized one of the figures. "Vegeta…Prince Vegeta!" he whispered, barely audible. His mind raced. The last time he had seen the prince, he had been a child, long before the fall of Planet Vegeta.

But the other figure... the one with the wild golden hair... he didn't recognize him.

"These are the Saiyans who have surpassed you in every conceivable way," Frieza said, his voice laced with disdain. "The first is Vegeta, the prince of your race. But the other…" Frieza's smile turned dark. "The other is Goku, a low-class warrior who ascended to the legendary Super Saiyan. These two are examples of true Saiyan potential. And unlike you, they earned their strength through battle, through struggle."

Turles' mind was spinning. He couldn't comprehend how someone like Vegeta could have risen to such heights. And this Goku... who was he?

"You have a choice, Turles," Frieza continued, his voice cold but inviting. "You can remain the weak, pitiful excuse of a Saiyan that you are now, or you can take this opportunity to work under me, to train and hone your abilities to become something greater."

Turles' body trembled with rage, shame, and frustration. He had been humiliated, his pride stripped bare, but beneath it all, there was something else… a flicker of hope.

Frieza crushed the ki construct with a wave of his hand, its glowing form vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. "The decision is yours," he said, his voice soft yet commanding. "But know this: I do not offer second chances."