"Kibito, the Galactic King, and Paragus!"
Gran's eyes swept over the trio. The first, a tall, red-faced man, was Kibito—Shin's attendant who had been missing from the Sacred World of the Kais for quite some time. It seemed Shin had stationed him here.
The second, a green octopus, was the current Galactic King. To Gran, he was a total weakling, not worth a second glance. The third was Paragus, little Broly's father.
Paragus's energy felt strange. If measured by a scouter, his power level would only sit around 10,000. In theory, after Gran had given him those three Fruits of the Tree of Might—one of which he'd eaten on the spot—his power should have soared well past a million. There was only one explanation: Paragus had been training under Merus.
Gran looked at the dozen or so Saiyans standing behind Paragus. Their Ki was similarly suppressed. It seemed they, too, had learned the art of concealment from Merus, allowing them to hide the true extent of their strength.
The roar of the Saiyans' greeting still echoed through the lobby, leaving the uninformed onlookers frozen like statues. Just what kind of titan had arrived? It wasn't just the various aliens; even Bulma was stunned. She knew Gran held a high status, but she had no idea his prestige in the deep reaches of space was this immense.
"Paragus, you've done well," Gran said, his lips curling into a slight smirk. It seemed they really had managed to "freeload" some expert guidance from Merus.
"I am honored by your praise, Lord Gran!" Paragus stepped forward, bowing a full 90 degrees. After arriving at the Galactic Patrol Headquarters, he met the Galactic King and the Supreme Kai's attendant. From them, he finally learned exactly what kind of being his fellow Saiyan had become: a Destroyer Candidate—an existence below only the Gods, standing above all mortal life!
"Kibito, it's been a while," Gran said, turning to the red-faced man. "Why did Shin suddenly send you here?"
"Greetings, Lord Gran!" Kibito bowed respectfully, looking a bit sheepish. "The Supreme Kai complained that I was eating too much, so he sent me here to help the Galactic King manage the universe."
Eating too much? Gran understood immediately. Kibito had clearly developed too much of a taste for the Earth delicacies Gran had brought back to their realm.
"What a mess," Gran muttered, shaking his head.
Then, the Galactic King stepped forward, trembling slightly. "Greetings, Lord Destroyer Candidate!"
"Yeah," Gran nodded, eyeing the green octopus. "You're pretty much a weakling, but you had the sense to let the Saiyans join the Patrol. That's enough for me."
"I wouldn't dare do otherwise!" The Galactic King turned a shade paler. "It was your command, my Lord. I would never dream of disobeying!"
In truth, when Paragus had first arrived with a group of Saiyans, the King had been terrified. The Saiyan reputation in Universe 7 was abysmal, and he'd assumed they were there to conquer the headquarters.
But when Paragus claimed he was there on the orders of a Destroyer Candidate, the terror only shifted gears. As an ally of the Kais, the King knew the hierarchy of the gods. A God of Destruction was the ultimate power, and their apprentice was no less fearsome. When Merus sent word confirming the arrangement, the King had no choice but to agree.
"Enough. This isn't the place for a meeting," Gran said. "Find us a quiet room."
"At once!" The Galactic King scanned the lobby. The ordinary patrolmen and visiting aliens were all staring, hungry for gossip. To stare at a Destroyer Candidate like he was a circus act... these people clearly had a death wish.
As the King prepared to lead them to the top floor, Bulma spoke up. "Lord Gran, you go ahead. I'm going to stay down here and look for leads on my sister."
Gran stopped and sighed. "I knew I shouldn't have brought a hanger-on like you." He turned to little Broly. "I'm busy. Keep an eye on her. Don't let some idiot kill her."
"Big brother Gran, do I just have to make sure she doesn't die?"
"Yeah. She's the personal caretaker for Lord Beerus and Whis. If she dies, I'll never hear the end of it."
Bulma's face darkened as she listened to them. Caretaker? She huffed. This Destroyer Candidate was incredibly rude!
"Let's move," Gran commanded.
As they headed for the elevator, Paragus called out, "Lord Gran, please, wait a moment!"
Gran's lip twitched. He knew exactly what Paragus wanted—a moment with his son. "You have ten minutes."
"Thank you, my Lord!" Paragus rushed over to Broly. "Broly, are you... Are you doing well?" His voice wavered.
"I am fine, Father. You don't need to worry." Broly's face was expressionless. He was calm, showing none of the joy one might expect from a reunion.
Paragus froze. Broly's awareness had clearly shifted. Did he finally realize that his father had always viewed him as a tool for revenge? "Fine... that's good. That's good then..." Paragus's excitement withered into a somber realization. He didn't know what else to say. "Just... stay by Lord Gran's side. He will help you control your rage."
"I will," Broly nodded.
Paragus opened his mouth to speak again, but ultimately just sighed and walked back to Gran.
"There's still time. You're done?" Gran asked. In the past, this man had been blinded by hatred, but he seemed different now.
"I'm done," Paragus said quietly, his head hanging low.
"Then let's go."
As the group reached the elevator, Paragus suddenly turned back and shouted, "Broly! Father is sorry for everything!"
Down in the lobby, little Broly stood perfectly still, stunned.
Once the elevator doors closed, the lobby erupted into chaos.
"Did you hear the Galactic King? That guy is a 'Destroyer Candidate'!"
"My god, what kind of power is that? I've never heard of it! Is he stronger than Frieza?"
Bulma rolled her eyes. She didn't know who Frieza was, but she knew her "Lord Gran" was invincible.
"Broly, you okay?" Bulma asked, looking at the boy who was still staring at the elevator doors.
"I'm... I'm fine." Broly shook his head, his small, clenched fists relaxing slightly. Bulma grew even more curious about the boy's past.
"Hey, didn't you say you wanted to—" Broly started.
Bulma leaned down and tapped his head. "What's with the 'Hey'? Call me Sister Bulma!"
"No way," Broly muttered, turning his face away.
"I'm asking you again. Are you going to call me that?"
"No."
"Fine. Then no more delicious Earth snacks for you."
"Wait! Sister Bulma, don't!" Broly panicked.
Bulma put her hands on her hips and let out a triumphant "Oh-ho-ho!" laugh. You're too young to mess with me, kid!
"Follow me. And remember to protect me," Bulma said, leading him through the crowd of bizarre aliens. Despite her bravado, she was a bit nervous. "Broly, I don't actually know how strong you are. Can you really protect me?"
"Don't worry. None of these guys is a match for me. Big brother told me to protect you, so if they touch you, I'll kill them."
"Wait... they haven't done anything yet. Let's try to keep the 'killing' to a minimum, okay?"
Their conversation drifted to the ears of the nearby aliens, whose faces immediately went pale. Even if they weren't the companions of a Destroyer Candidate, the fact that the kid's power had just vaporized a high-end scouter was enough to keep them away. Within seconds, the lobby cleared out, leaving the area deathly silent.
Bulma ignored the fleeing crowd and walked up to the reception desk, where a rabbit-headed woman in a Patrol uniform was waiting.
"Hi there! Do you have a patrolman here named Jaco?"
The receptionist didn't answer. She was trembling so hard her long ears were flopping.
"Relax, we don't eat people!" Bulma sighed, gesturing toward the elevator. "You saw us. I'm with your King. What are you so afraid of?"
The bunny girl took a shaky breath, realizing she was right. "I'm so sorry, my Lady! You gave me quite a fright!" She clutched her chest.
"Is there a Jaco here or not?"
The receptionist's eyes lit up. "You're looking for Master Jaco?"
"Master? Is he famous here?" Bulma asked, confused.
"Oh, yes! Master Jaco is a Super Elite with incredible vision and a burning passion for justice! He's very famous within the Patrol," she said, giggling behind her hand.
"Where is he?"
The receptionist checked her terminal. "He's currently off-duty. He's vacationing on a planet not far from headquarters."
"Give me the coordinates!"
Shortly after, Bulma had Broly fly her out into the void of space. They didn't use a ship or space suits, once again leaving the Galactic Patrol staff with their jaws on the floor. They really were a race that could survive in the vacuum of the universe!
At the top of the command tower, hundreds of floors up, Gran entered a quiet conference room with a sprawling view of the station.
"Lord Gran, your companions have left the station," the Galactic King noted.
"Let them go," Gran waved it off. At this point in the timeline, there wasn't a soul in Universe 7 who could beat Broly, barring a few hidden monsters. He turned his attention to Paragus. The man had changed quite a bit in two years. "Paragus, how many Saiyans have you gathered?"
"Lord Gran," Paragus reported, "our people are scattered thin. There were only about 150 survivors in the galaxy. So far, I have successfully brought back 53."
"53? How are you tracking them?"
"The Galactic King told me about an all-knowing being named Zuno. I went to him and requested the locations of every surviving Saiyan in the universe."
Gran remembered Zuno from the stories. Bulma had used Jaco to find him when investigating the Super Dragon Balls.
"I assume you looked for more than just 53, though?" Gran asked with a knowing look.
Paragus went quiet for a moment before answering cautiously. "I actually found 72. Nineteen of them refused to submit, no matter what... so I executed them." He spoke softly, fearing Gran's displeasure.
"It doesn't matter," Gran said coolly. "If they cannot be used, they are worthless. Let them rot."
Paragus looked up, stunned. "You... you aren't angry with me?"
Gran chuckled. "Kin killing kin? That was a daily occurrence back in King Vegeta's era. Why would I care about that now?"
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