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Guy picked up the Scouter that the trainers had ordered them to wear for the tournament and looked at it with disgust. Was it not enough that Frieza had organized this pointless charade? Did he have to decorate them with his trinkets too?
What infuriated him most was that his companions—Sid, Luke, Norris, and even the youngest of their class, Kirie—kept praising the comfort of the new armor, which was as strong as metal but as light and elastic as a second skin, and comparing their combat levels with each other.
He couldn't understand how they didn't realize that this tournament was nothing more than a farce, set up not to discover who among them was the strongest, as Bardock had tried to make them believe, but for Frieza and his men to enjoy watching them fight each other like caged animals.
"To hell with Frieza and all his bootlickers!" Guy shouted, throwing the high-tech monocle to the ground and spitting on it theatrically to ensure everyone noticed.
Kirie removed the shiny Scouter from his left eye and hid it behind his back as if afraid Guy might do the same to his. Sid, who was the same age as Guy and had rivaled him since their first year of training, approached with long strides, pointing a finger at him:
"You know it's not optional! Bardock said we have to wear them! And besides, it's a really cool gadget that not only measures the enemy's combat level but also works as a locator and long-distance communicator. Only an ignorant fool like you wouldn't see that!"
It was a targeted insult, as Guy—unlike Sid, who was the last of a noble line of warriors—came from a humble family of low-ranking soldiers. Even though they were just kids who hadn't reached adulthood, lineage mattered greatly.
Instead of being offended, Guy gave him a mocking smile. "I'm the ignorant one? In battle, it's completely useless to know your opponent's power level in advance. But maybe in your case, it might help you run away."
For a Saiyan, there was no greater insult than being called a coward.
"You’ll pay for that!" Sid yelled, launching himself at Guy.
The first punches were exchanged on the ground, but they soon took to the air to continue the fight without interference from nearby objects. They were serious, and Kirie, frightened, ran to fetch their instructor to stop them. Bardock arrived immediately, closely followed by Riki, the most promising student and Guy's childhood best friend.
Bardock was in a particularly foul mood, and after casting an angry glance at the two figures darting through the sky, occasionally colliding and pulling apart to study their next move, he generated two energy spheres with his hands and hit them both squarely, stunning them momentarily and making them fall to the ground.
"Who started it?" he asked furiously, planting himself between them with arms crossed.
Such scuffles were common, especially among the younger students. It was in their DNA; Saiyan blood boiled with the desire to dominate, prevail, and test their strength.
Normally, Bardock would have let them sort it out on their own without intervening; but today was different. Frieza's delegation would soon arrive to watch the tournament, and he had instructed the kids to behave with dignity. Moreover, he had just received word from King Vegeta that his eldest son, Raditz, had been chosen to accompany Prince Vegeta on an upcoming mission with Frieza's forces. Bardock hadn't been able to oppose the decision, and it was eating him up. Venting his anger on two disobedient students seemed more than justified.
"Well, who started it?"
Sid and Guy got to their feet simultaneously and remained silent. Kirie spoke for them.
"Guy threw the Scouter on the ground, saying it was useless! He even insulted the great Frieza's army!"
Bardock's icy gaze fell immediately on the brown-haired boy with the long ponytail. "You have one minute to explain," he growled.
"You taught us to rely on our instincts in battle, not to trust first impressions, to take every fight seriously, and never to let our guard down!" Guy defended himself. "Knowing the enemy's power level in advance doesn't help—it actually does the opposite. It either makes us relax if they’re weaker or panic if they're stronger!"
If he had stopped there, he might have gotten off with a scolding, but his anger pushed him beyond the point of safety.
"It’s a tool for weaks, and you're forcing us to wear it only because Frieza demands it! All of you, even the king, have surrendered to being his slaves, and you're doing nothing to fight back! I won’t accept it!"
The fact that a child, a cadet under his command, was voicing the same rebellious thoughts Bardock himself hadn’t yet dared to form made the officer furious. He kneed Guy in the head near the ear, sending him rolling across the rocky ground. He didn't give him time to get up and unleashed a storm of kicks and punches on him without pause.
"Stop! You will kill him!"
Riki's voice, close by but barely audible through the storm of rage in Bardock's mind, brought him back to his senses.
'Calm down. That's not Frieza. You can't take it out on a kid,' he told himself, cursing his own helplessness and lack of control. He turned his back, and before leaving the training ground, addressed everyone present.
"Be careful what you say and do. Frieza is a tyrant, but if you insist on not bowing your heads, it won't just be you who suffer, but also your families and our entire race."
Then he turned to his second-in-command. "Healing chamber! Twenty minutes should be enough."
***
The warm water wrapped around his body in a comforting way. The pain from his injuries vanished, and his mind had drifted into a pleasant haze.
It was undeniable: the alliance with Frieza's army had brought many benefits to Planet Vegeta, including advanced medical technology, weaponry, and aerospace equipment that the Saiyans would never have had access to otherwise.
They weren’t known for intelligence or technical skill, and when Frieza's grandfather discovered them centuries ago, they were little more than cavemen who wore animal skins, ate raw meat, and fought each other over a woman or a cave.
The offer had been tempting: "Work for me! In return, I will give you our tools, knowledge, and science."
What the then-king of the planet hadn’t foreseen was the high cost: the entire population would become enslaved, forced to conquer one planet after another for their patron, pay heavy tributes, and hand over their best warriors to bolster his army.
Frieza's lineage and his men were incredibly powerful, and as skilled as the Saiyans were, they couldn't compete. The few who had tried to rebel were quickly exterminated, and their stories served as harsh warnings—like the recent command to take possession of Prince Vegeta, the only king’s heir.
The "cure completed" beep awoke Guy from his sleep. The tank drained, and he removed the electrodes from his temples and tore off the oxygen mask that had allowed him to breathe during treatment.
"How long have you been here?" he asked gruffly, stepping out of the healing capsule. He hadn't expected company.
"Since the beginning of your treatment," Riki replied, pointing to a stool where Guy's battle armor and Scouter had been laid. "Bardock said to suit up and join the others in the amphitheatre. What... what were you hoping to achieve by challenging him like that?"
"Don't tell me you disagree with me!" Guy retorted firmly, starting to put on his undergarments and socks. "Am I supposed to sit back and let them mock us in silence? It's obvious Frieza is just using us, but everyone’s too scared, pretending not to notice! I won’t stand for it!"
"And what should they do instead?" Riki replied. "Bardock just wants to protect us. If Frieza or one of his men hears you speak against them, you could get us all in trouble!"
Guy finished dressing and put on the Scouter with disdain. "There. Ready for the costume parade," he said sarcastically.
The two left the infirmary and headed to where the tournament would soon begin. Though dressed the same, they were easy to tell apart; Riki was slightly smaller and had shorter, jet-black hair.
"Seems like Frieza noticed me," Riki confessed after a few steps. "He told the king that if I win today, he'll take me on the next mission with the prince. Bardock was telling me about it just as you and Sid started fighting."
At those words, Guy stopped, shock and concern on his face. "You're not going, right? Tell me you’ll do everything not to win this damned tournament!"
Riki lowered his gaze, perhaps ashamed of what he was about to say. "Actually... I decided I want to go. There’s no future for me here. I know to Frieza we're just weapons, but... I want my chance to leave this planet and see the outside world."
In disbelief, Guy grabbed his friend’s shoulders and shook them. "What are you saying? You won’t get what you want by joining his army! You’ll just become another one of his wretched pawns!"
"I... made my decision."
The brown-haired youth gritted his teeth and pressed his lips into a hard line. "Fine. But know this—today, I’ll fight with everything I have to stop you. Today, I’ll be your enemy."
His vision was clear and his goal set: he wouldn’t let Riki win the tournament. He alone knew his friend’s weakness and would use it to his advantage.
The tail, the only vulnerability Saiyans had, was something they were taught to strengthen and protect from a young age by always wrapping it around their waist. Riki still struggled with that. Sometimes he forgot, and that carelessness made him an easy target. If Guy could grab his tail, Riki would lose all his energy, and victory would be assured.
When Riki had shared that shameful secret, he had made Guy promise never to reveal or use it against him in a fight. If word got out that he still hadn’t mastered control over it at his age, he would lose all the respect he had earned through years of training.
It would be a betrayal of their friendship, but today... today was different.
'The ends justify the means,' Guy thought. 'And I will use any weapon to stop Riki from making the biggest mistake of his life!'