DB Multiverse

Chapter 114

Translated by npberryhill

“The final match of the second round is about to begin,” a Varga announced from the control room. “We need Gast of Universe 7, we need the Great Demon King Piccolo from Universe 3! Let’s get this match started”

“Finally! It’s about damn time!” the latter grinned, arms crossed. “Old man sure took his time with that match.”

Raichi, who had returned to the universe 3 balcony, heard the Namek’s complaint and paused. He’d had his hands full with that accursed Saiyan, barely winning the fight at all, and being criticized was irritating. But, regardless, his next opponent would be one of the two Nameks about to fight.

Both Namekians flew onto the ring, landing a few meters apart. They sized each other up without a move. Neither seemed to be affected by the increased gravity, which surprised the two Piccolos of the 16th and 18th. This Piccolo Daimao was far stronger than the one they’d known, yet he appeared physically identical to when he had first separated from Kami-sami.

“The Great Demon King, huh? Couldn’t you find a more pretentious name?”

“...Says the guy named after a Namekian deity?” King Piccolo replied mockingly. “Maybe it’ll be a contest of who’s the most arrogant?”

“Don’t give me that,” Gast replied, his gaze hardened. “You know nothing of the Nameks, our customs, our rites, our people. There’s not a shred of Namekian dignity inside you, just your evil deeds and your perversions. You even refer to yourself as a demon, so stop pretending you know anything about us.”

Piccolo laughed. It was amusing that most of what he knew of the Namekian race had come in the past few days at the tournament, listening in on conversations. He’d also picked up a few things back on Earth when several Nameks had been sent to look for him. It was enough to recognize his opponent’s name, but he honestly didn’t care much.

“You do have a point,” King Piccolo exclaimed. “I’m no Namek! I’m the ultimate evil, an overwhelming darkness, and your polar opposite! You’ll soon see, I’m your superior in every way, and I will prove it!”

“Yes, yes...you’re an amnesiac, a Namekian corrupted by evil, I know. But you’re far too weak to pose me a challenge. This won’t be much of a fight...”

“...Weak?” the other green-skinned warrior said with a teethy grin. “I wouldn’t be so certain!”

Raising his fore-arms, Daimao unleashed an intense ki that caused the ground to tremble. Stones began rattling, breaking off the ring and rising into the air. The energy he was giving off drew a reaction from several spectators.

“Wait...that energy. It’s mine,” Piccolo said, astonished. “But how?”

“What do you mean it’s yours, Piccolo?” Goku asked.

“I’m saying this King Piccolo isn’t like the one you fought as a child, at some point he fused with Kami-sama! He’s become whole again, like I did before I fought against Android 17 and Imperfect Cell. I don’t know how that’s possible.”

Up in the ring, Gast remained stoic. The power displayed by King Piccolo was indeed impressive, especially since it came from a warrior type Namekian — but, it was still not even the slightest problem in his eyes, which he closed with a sigh. At least his opponent might prove a brief distraction, before he revealed how powerful a being he was — the single incarnation of an entire people.

Not getting the reaction of shock he’d hoped for, Daimao gritted his teeth, and charged the mocking “divinity”. With incredible speed, he swung several blows at the great Namek’s face, who raised his arms and casually deflected each of them. Without pause, King Piccolo upped the intensity of his rapid blows, circling his foe, chaining in knee strikes and kicks with his assault. These also failed to destabilize his opponent, who blocked each attempt simply and nonchalantly.

Gast seemed to have a gift for irritating the demon king, who opened his mouth and fired an energy ray at the great Namek’s head. He dodged backwards and the beam attack struck the protective energy shield, sounding loudly throughout the arena. Gast stretched his arm, throwing it into the ring and causing it to re-emerge just beneath Daimao. The amnesiac Namek was struck and sent flying, but before he hit the ground a kick in the stomach knocked his breath away and sent him a dozen meters. He recovered in midair, turning towards his foe with a murderous look, and launched himself back towards Gast — who was awaiting him with another firm kick.

Two former rivals watched the fight side by side from the Universe 18 balcony.

“So, do you think he somehow trapped Kami-sama? I guess if he attacked him, maybe he could somehow force the merger?”

“No,” Piccolo replied, “it doesn’t work that way. The assimilation must be consensual. When I fused with both Nail and Kami, all I could do was touch them and wait — forcing an absorption isn’t possible. I don’t know how or why, but somehow Daimao managed to convince Kami to join with him. He certainly couldn’t have defeated him in battle, no one on Earth could. Perhaps he believed that by merging once more, the good part of Kami might regain some semblance of control over the evil. But it seems that my father somehow stomped out the good remnants of Kami-sama inside of his heart — he certainly seems every bit the bastard he always was!”

Little did they know, Piccolo Daimao was actually listening into their conversation, thanks to his Namekian hearing. He grinned at the theory of his alter-ego, but the momentary distraction proved his downfall. The giant Namek landed a powerful blow in his face, breaking his nose. Daimao fell to the ground in shock, momentarily unable to move.

Gast stood over him with a mighty shadow, and spoke in a deep voice.

“You are very powerful for a Namek, bravo. But I’m even more phenomenal. You really have no chance at all of defeating me.”

Vegetto was tapping his foot, anxious. “What’s he so arrogant about?” His companions looked at him with mouths agape.

“As for being absolute evil,” the Namek continued, without noticing the remark, “you’re fooling yourself. Look around you, there are far worse villains here. We’re surrounded by remorseless criminals, some have enslaved countless worlds, exterminated the life on hundreds of planets, but you... you’re inhabited by kindness and a love for others.”

King Piccolo was speechless. Him, a good Samaritan? He who sowed fear and despair with his every action? He, the most evil demon to have ever existed?

“What are you talking about, fool? I slaughter humans by the dozen for the simple enjoyment of hearing their dying screams! I get my kicks from torturing them slowly, forcing them to watch as I murder their families and children before their very eyes! I daresay not even half the population of Earth is left alive!”

“You talk a big game, but you’re not all that evil,” Gast replied. “See those two cyborgs over there? In Universe 14 they massacred the entire population of Earth, not just half. Their hatred of humanity is far greater than yours. You love claiming to be evil, but you’re far from being absolute. Among other reasons, when you merged with your benevolent counterpart, you were corrupted...by GOOD!”

“What... No... I couldn’t be!??” Daimao cried, stunned.

“You love the Earth and the humans,” Gast continued, a smile on his lips. “Goodness grows inside of you... and soon, you’ll be converted! You won’t make men suffer anymore, you’ll be good! The demon will become a guardian angel, protecting the weak, innocent, and needy!”

King Piccolo stared at Gast, flabbergasted. It couldn’t be true... and yet, images began to flood his mind. In recent years, there had been a few instances where he’d acted out of character. He saw himself walking through a city he’d destroyed, following the screams of a crying child in a dark alley. He was about to kill her, his arm was raised, when she had turned to him with tears in her eyes. Those innocent baby blues, weeping in fear, had destabilized him somehow, freezing him with inaction. He’d lowered his hand, smashing the wall next to the girl instead before turning and leaving the terrorized girl without a word. He’d also instructed his demonic offspring to spare villages on occasion, claiming disinterest or that he would destroy them later. But it was the image of human children in his mind which was a mental block.

Goku was enthralled with the conversation. “What do you think, Piccolo? Could Kami be influencing him from inside without him knowing? If I remember correctly, when I was little, Kami was hesitant to confront you back during the Tenkaichi Budokai. Do you think if you had fused with him then you would’ve still come around to our side?”

“I honestly don’t know,” the Namekian replied, introspective. “By the time I fused with Kami, I was already a changed man, plus we had the immediate threat of Cell. Everything before then is what changed me, my time with you and Gohan. For this version of Piccolo, the change would probably be very gradual.”

Gohan, who stood slightly behind them, thought the same. He turned his head slightly towards King Piccolo, smiling. He knew Piccolo better than anyone, and had been there to see his full transformation — Daimao could still yet be redeemed. The Demon, up in the ring, had turned towards them again, hearing their conversation. His eyes bulged in frustration — it wasn’t possible, he refused to allow it! He was the incarnation of evil, the nightmare of mankind!

“Shut up! Shut up!” Daimao screamed, striking the ground furiously with his fists and creating a huge crater in the ring. “You’re delusional! I’m the one in control no matter what you say...and I will never become a slave to good! I...I’m PICCOLO!!!”

Still shouting, he raged and threw his fists at Gast, the false saint that now bore the fullness of his unending hatred. But his attacks hit empty air, in the blink of an eye Gast had zipped behind him, grabbed his head, and rammed him into the ground. Piccolo was dazed, trying to regain his wits, hands clasped to the ground.

“But deep inside, it’s what you want, isn’t it?” Gast resumed his speech. “When you see desperation and despair, you want to protect them, to save them! Don’t repress it, stop fighting! Give yourself to the good side!”

“No! NO!” King Piccolo exclaimed, holding his head in his hands and trying to block out the unclean words — which penetrated his mind and conscience all the same. Gast raised his arms, his eyes turning an immaculate white, and a kind of light emanated around him faintly, darkening everything else briefly. All present were seized by chills momentarily, as if a mystical or divine being had appeared in front of them, incarnated. It was the true presence of Gast, who profoundly and slowly proclaimed these words.

“It is unavoidable. It is your destiny.”

The words and aura was somewhat of a wakeup call for King Piccolo, who suddenly stood back to his feet.

“I’d rather be deaf than hear another word of your nonsense!”

Grabbing his ears with his green hands, he ripped each off suddenly, surprising his adversary. Had his words really pushed Daimao to such an ultimately futile gesture? His thought was proven wrong almost immediately. The Great Demon King began to whistle loudly, increasing the frequency vibrations of the pitch with each passing second. The soundwave was unbearable, bringing Gast to his knees as the sharp pain overwhelmed his senses.

“What’s that sound!? It’s horrible! Argh!”

Without pause, Daimao kneed the great Namek in his chin, whistling all the while. The attack sent Gast tumbling backwards, a trickle of blood in the air. Carcohl recovered easily enough, but still found he couldn’t concentrate with the demonic sound persisting.

The Demon King, meanwhile, was inwardly ecstatic. He could bring an opponent tens of times stronger than himself to his knees with a simple movement of air across his lips. Fighting another Namek did have its advantages, as he was quite familiar with the weaknesses his own race possessed, having discovered this particular one on Earth. When first confronted by the sound himself, he’d detonated a blast that took out everything around him within a hundred kilometers.

Up in the audience, a small individual wearing dark glasses and clothing with the Kaio symbol began to explain the situation to those around him.

“For a Namek, the sound wave of a whistle is as unbearable as screeching on a chalkboard! Gast might have had the bases loaded and been ready to end the game, but it seems he can’t handle the final pitch!” At his comment, the blue-skinned deity immediately began cackling loudly into his nose. “Pitch! Get it? Bahaha! I crack myself up!! Mffahahahaha!”

“Excuse me,” the person beside him said, “I know you think you’re funny, but I’m trying to enjoy the tournament. Do you mind not commenting all the bloody time?”

The Kaio turned to him, a bead of sweat on his forehead. “Oh, uh yeah. Sorry about that.”

Yet, his comment had been quite intriguing. All the Nameks in the area, both healers and security, had fallen to their knees, unable to focus. The sound was a universal weapon against them all it seemed, each one trying to plug their ears. The Vargas were panicked as well, wondering whether or not they should interfere in the match.

Meanwhile, King Piccolo continued his assault on Gast, who was unable to properly defend himself. He landed each uppercut at full power, blood squirting on the ground from the pummeling. Nearby, Goten of the 18th was perplexed.

“It’s so stupid. Why doesn’t he just pull his ears off like the other guy?”

Gast suddenly grabbed Daimao’s face, his great green palm covering the demon’s mouth and causing the dreadful requiem to finally cease. He then turned his head towards Son Goten.

“Please... I was trying to handicap myself, make it at least somewhat challenging...”

“Yikes! He heard me!” Goten exclaimed.

“Sir, it’s forbidden to help the competitors,” a varga warned him, “even with advice. Next time, I’ll disqualify your Gotenks.”

“But...I wasn’t even talking to him!” Goten argued, panicked.

King Piccolo managed to free himself from Gast’s grasp, trying to whistle again. But the the latter, sighing, flicked the corrupted Namek in the face, causing him to collapse onto the ground. His body was inert, and he showed no signs of recovering. The Vargas were quick to announce the result

“And the victory goes to Gast Carcohl of Universe 7!”

“You still have a long way to go,” the great Namek said, kneeling beside his unconscious opponent. He placed a hand on King Piccolo’s chest, surrounding the “demon” in a green healing light, restoring his body completely, even his ears. The Namek suddenly awoke, surprised, and straightened up.

“I...I’m healed?” he stuttered.

He stared, confused, at Gast, who had begun to walk away. The assimilated being of so many individuals, having turned his back, spoke a final time.

“Think on what it is that really brings you fulfillment... torturing others, or seeing them flourish under your watchful and protective eye? Ruling them with malice, or seeing their smiles of gratitude, hearing their words of love and thanks, and letting their illumination warm your heart? Consider the truth, really stop and take a hard look. You don’t have to figure out all the answers now. Look deep, search yourself honestly, forget about what anyone else would think. And if you come to the right decision and need a wish to restore the lives you stole, ask me. I intend to win, and if I have a remaining wish, I will use it for you.

The Great Demon King paused, the words of the wise Namekian still hovering in the air. He clenched his fists with both rage and uncertainty. All that Gast had told him...was it true? Deep down, would he find fulfillment in defending the weak, seeing them flourishing and happy...thanks to him? Still lost in thought, he flew back to the Universe 3 balcony and went to his private apartment, passing a gloomy Raichi along the way.