Chapter 55: The New Planet Trade Organization.

The four mighty beings stood facing each other in the grand chamber of Turles's newly established headquarters. Turles, the Saiyan leader of the Planet Trade Organization, and the three previous rulers, Frieza, Cooler, and King Cold, locked eyes in a tense silence. Seeing that they had no intention of speaking first, Turles didn't mind being the one to do so. He hadn't brought these three back to life just to stare at them. 

Frieza was the first to break the silence. His scowl etched deeper into his frosty features. His voice was a venomous hiss, dripping with a potent mix of anger and frustration. "Turles, you insolent monkey! Do you have any idea how long I've been rotting in that accursed Hell because of you?" Turles remained unruffled, his demeanor nonchalant as he leaned against a sleek, well-designed throne. His dark eyes danced with an unsettling mixture of amusement and indifference. "It's been quite some time, hasn't it? I hope it gave you enough time to cool your head and make rational decisions this time around."

Frieza's patience, never known for its resilience, was wearing thin. His tail twitched with irritation as he demanded, "Enough of your jests, Turles! Explain yourself. Why did you bring us back?" With a sardonic grin, Turles launched into his explanation. "Well, Frieza, I've been quite busy in your absence. The old ways of the Frieza Force, while somehow effective in their own right, were ripe for improvement. Efficiency, adaptability, and proper management of resources; these are the new pillars upon which the new Planet Trade Organization stands."

Cooler's analytical gaze narrowed, his voice as sharp as his judgment. "That doesn't answer his question." He noted.

Turles didn't seem to mind the interruption. He gestured to a holographic display, which was illuminated with images and data charts depicting the restructuring of the organization. "Under my rule, we've diversified our operations. No longer confined to mere brokering and selling of planets, the Planet Trade Organization has become a multifaceted powerhouse."

King Cold, regal and composed, interjected with curiosity. "What manner of diversification are you referring to, Turles?" Turles's grin widened, and he elaborated, "We've delved into the realms of trade, technology, research, education, business, science, leading, lending, fortunetelling, and more."

Frieza, however, was growing increasingly exasperated with the lack of direct answers. He pounded a fist onto the nearest console, causing it to break on impact. "Enough of this nonsense! Answer me already!" Turles's response was a slow and measured one. His tone, though indifferent, carried a weight of authority that resonated in the chamber. "Frieza, you're quite the talent when it comes to the innate advantage you were born with compared to the majority of the universe. But the consequences would have been dire if you continued on your previous path. You are aware of Lord Beerus, correct?"

Frieza's anger flared, but Turles continued unabated. "You see, Frieza, I'm making these changes for the sake of our universe. To better and promote life and prosperity across all galaxies. Because if we continue down the path of unrestrained tyranny, our fate will be sealed without an inkling of resistance."

Cooler rolled his eyes. "Stop going around in circles and explain clearly, Turles." Turles nodded, his expression a bit more serious. "I've revived you because I believe you will help boost our mortal level to acceptable parameters. Lord Beerus's boss has the power to annihilate universes in the blink of an eye. He has a tendency to like those that are virtuous in nature. Completely opposite to beings like us whose hearts are full of evil." He explained.

"I'm going to have you two rule over different parts of the universe. However, I need you to not senselessly destroy, murder, and kill everything you can just because you can or want to. Otherwise, all of us will die without even knowing it. Do you understand?"

Frieza's initial rage had transformed into reluctant acceptance. He still harbored other thoughts, but now it was tempered by a newfound understanding. "Very well, monkey. I shall abide by your offer for partnership. But remember this: if you ever get in my way again, I will not hesitate to eliminate you." He promised.

Turles grinned, looking forward to the future alongside time bombs like Frieza and Cooler. "I can't wait. But once again, keep this in mind: To ensure we don't get destroyed by Lord Beerus's boss, the promotion of life and the prosperity of it across the universe is of utmost importance."

"How infuriating…" Cooler muttered in annoyance.

"Agreed." King Cold agreed with his oldest son for once.

"Cooler, you will be ruling over the afterlife. Frieza, you'll be bettering the universe alongside me. I look over one half of the universe, and you look over the other half. If you ever get confident enough to kill me and take over my half as well, feel free. I'm available for a fight any time." Turles grinned. "Cold, you'll get to enjoy your retirement in luxury and comfort. Is this acceptable for everyone?" 

"Fine." Frieza crossed his arms.

"I suppose it's better than the alternative," Cooler responded.

"Lucky me," Cold replied with amusement.

With an uneasy truce established, the three former emperors and the new leader of the Planet Trade Organization separated as Turles teleported them to their new domains.

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On the once-harmonious planet of Norvala, a somber metamorphosis had taken hold. The vibrant world, once a testament to peace, now crumbled beneath the malevolent raid of Bojack, the bloodthirsty Hera clansman. He cut an imposing figure, a pirate in ever sense of the word. The universe should quiver in dread at the mere mention of his name, for Bojack's insatiable thirst for genocide knew no bounds. But Bojack did not tread this path alone. By his side stood a formidable crew, each harboring their own nefarious traits and abilities, their presence heralding doom wherever they ventured.

Kogu, Bojack's indomitable second-in-command. His attire featured a jet-black top coupled with pristine white pants. Kogu's arrogance radiated like an unholy aura. Honor mattered not to him, and taunting his adversaries was a pastime he relished. In his grip, he clutched a long, sharp sword, a weapon as cold and ruthless as the heart that wielded it.

Bido, a veritable behemoth among the crew, shared the same Hera lineage, evident in his teal skin and striking orange mohawk. His signature was an audacious horseshoe mustache. Remarkably, Bido's prodigious might let him overpower foes with terrifying ease single-handedly. His actions often synchronized with those of Bujin, another member of the Hera Clan. Bujin's teal skin concealed any trace of his hair, if indeed he possessed any. However, his cruel disposition matched his crewmates', albeit tinged with a sardonic mischief. Bujin was the master of weaving intricate energy threads, ensnaring his adversaries like unwitting prey.

Zangya, the crew's solitary female, carved her niche with long, luscious orange hair cascading down her back. Her skin bore a bluish hue, while her eyes, pointed ears, and attire exuded an eerie charm. A white jacket adorned her lithe frame, paired with pants adorned with resplendent gold buckles. A blue undershirt concealed her curves, while black pull-on sleeves and a resplendent purple sash completed her attire. Golden necklaces and earrings graced her form, adding to her enchanting allure. In the eyes of her victims, she was indeed a deadly beauty. 

Together, Bojack and his crew incarnated unrelenting destruction. Planets once teeming with life now lay in ruins, their despair echoing through the cosmos. Norvala's denizens trembled in the face of impending annihilation as their beloved planet succumbed to the relentless destruction. In this whirlwind of chaos, Bojack reveled in the opportunity to quench his unquenchable thirst for murder. His insatiable appetite for carnage knew no restraint. But this wasn't the only planet to kneel under Bojack's crew.

The once-pristine planet of Zephyria, nestled in the heart of South Galaxy, also bore witness to the full extent of Bojack and his crew's evil nature. It was a world of breathtaking beauty, its landscapes a beautiful display of vibrant colors, crystal-clear lakes, and lush forests that seemed to touch the cerulean skies.

Yet, on this fateful day, Zephyria's serenity was shattered. The inhabitants of Zephyria, a gentle and creative species known as the Zephyrians, had thrived in harmony with their planet's natural wonders for millennia. They were known for their remarkable artworks and commitment to preserving their world's ecological balance. Like a sinister omen, Bojack's arrival sent tremors through this celestial paradise's heart. His crew's ships descended from the atmosphere like falling meteors, and their presence cast a dark shadow over Zephyria's beautiful landscapes.

The first signs of their cruelty came swiftly. Bojack's henchmen, their features twisted by malice, descended upon the Zephyrian cities, indiscriminately destroying the works of art that had been cherished for generations. Priceless sculptures crumbled under the weight of their merciless blows, and intricate paintings were defiled with callous strokes of their weapons. The Zephyrians, a people known for their pacifism and their devotion to the arts, could only watch in horror as their cultural heritage was reduced to ashes. The once-celebrated opera houses echoed not with melodious arias but with the agonized cries of the helpless and dying.

As if the destruction of their artistic treasures wasn't enough, Bojack's crew reveled in tormenting the Zephyrian populace. They roamed the streets with sadistic glee, murdering innocent civilians and subjecting them to cruel and unusual forms of suffering.

Among Bojack's crew, Zangya displayed an incredibly twisted sense of malevolence. With her long, curly orange hair and piercing blue eyes, she seemed an embodiment of beauty marred by cruelty. She taunted the Zephyrians as she slowly tortured them, relishing in their despair as they helplessly watched their world and lives crumble. Bojack, himself, remained the very personification of terror. He surveyed the destruction with an air of arrogance, his lust for power and dominion palpable in the evil gleam of his eyes. The planet of Zephyria, once a sanctuary of art and culture, now stood as a symbol of devastation. Its skies, once filled with the harmonious melodies of its people, were now polluted by the acrid smoke of destruction. Its lakes, once pristine and crystalline, ran crimson with the blood of the innocent.

In the face of such cruelty, the Zephyrians could only cling to the fragile threads of hope, praying for salvation from the unrelenting storm that had descended upon them. Unbeknownst to Bojack and his crew, while the universe didn't hold anymore heroes who would rise to confront the threat that he and his crew brought to the universe. It did have a new ruler…