Chapter Title: "The Gutter and the Stars"
The sulfuric dawn clawed through cracks in Taro’s shack, staining the walls the color of a bruise. Taro’s scouter buzzed on the floor beside his mattress, its cracked screen flashing his power level: 70,000. He slammed it against the wall, the number searing into his vision like a brand. Pathetic. Still stuck at 70,000.
His wife, Tisu, kicked a dented pot across the room. Her pink hair hung in greasy strands, her eyes sharp as shattered glass.
Tisu: “You forgot the water again. I drank filtered sewage. Again.”
Taro (scratching his tail): “Tastes better than the arena’s ‘soup.’”
Tisu (slamming the pot): “My sister’s husband brings her meat. From planets cuz he is a middle class.”
Taro avoided her stare. Seven years of marriage had sanded her voice into a weapon.
Their wedding night. Tisu had smeared armor polish on her cheeks like makeup. They’d toasted with stolen coolant. “We’ll get stronger,” she’d said. “Together.”
Taro went to work after
The arena’s underbelly reeked of acid and charred flesh. Taro’s mop sizzled as it touched Grakk’s dried blood, the sludge eating through his gloves. Above, holographic billboards replayed Grakk’s final moments: two blurry figures dodging his claws.
Mid-Class Overseer (mocking): “Taro! Lick that stain off Column 9. Your tongue’s the only part of you that works.”
Low-Class Worker (whispering): “Heard the Super Elites are mad. Those kids killed grakk well it was havies but those kids beaten em like a pulp”
Taro: “Bullshit. Grakk getting beaten by kids.”
Worker: “Not these kids. They went gold. Hair like a damn supernova. Super Saiyan.”
A scarred instructor sneered at Taro’s squad. “Super Saiyan ain’t for gutter trash. Even most Elites can’t unlock it. Warlord Havie? Never seen him glow gold. So shut up and mop.”
Taro scouter buzzed
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His scouter buzzed again: 70,000. He smashed it against the wall, the screen cracking.
The overseer’s office reeked of stolen brandy. Posters of Havie’s conquests lined the walls: planets cracked open like eggs.
Than the overseer spots taro working he approaches him
Overseer: “Budget cuts, Taro. You’re being replaced by a Model XJ9 Cleaning Drone.”
Taro: “That thing can’t handle the aliens mold! Last week it short-circuited mopping water!”
Overseer (smirking): “Doesn’t complain about overtime. Hand over your badge.”
Taro’s badge clattered onto the desk. The overseer tossed him a sack of fossilized ration cubes.
Overseer: “Five minutes, Taro. Then I’ll have you arrested for loitering.”
When taro went back home in his cave
The shack felt emptier. Tisu stuffed clothes into a sack, her movements sharp as knives.
Tisu: “Fired. Fired. How do you fail at cleaning?”
Taro: “It’s not my fault! The drone—”
Tisu (shrieking): “The drone’s better than you! At least it doesn’t reek of failure!”
Tisu (softly): “My cousin offered me a job on his cargo ship. Says I’m… useful.”
Taro (voice cracking): “You’re leaving.”
Tisu: “You’re nothing, Taro. You always were.”
She slammed the door. The screech-lizard in the vent hissed.
Than after taro went to his friend house sadly
Gruk’s garage reeked of engine grease and fermented algae. The hulking Low-Class Saiyan greeted Taro with a backslap.
Gruk (grinning): “Freedom, buddy! No more alien shit cleaning stink!”
Taro: “Tisu left.”
Gruk (chuckling): “Perfect! Let’s spar! Loser drinks toilet wine!”
Gruk punched Taro through a rusted engine block. Taro tackled him into a hoverbike, metal screeching.
Gruk (laughing): “Still weak as a newborn!”
Taro (snarling): “SHUT UP!”
Gruk: “Face it, Taro. You’re a gutter rat. Always will be.”
"Look at you, Taro. You're pathetic.
* "You don't deserve this life, not like this. You don't deserve anything
Taro bit his arm, drawing blood. Gruk tossed him into the streetOut of his garage.
Taro than got back up and went to the bar
The Broken Scouter buzzed with drunken chatter. Taro slumped at the bar, nursing battery-acid ale.
Drunk Saiyan #1: “Heard about Grakk? Kids killed him! Golden hair and all!”
Drunk Saiyan #2: “golden hair wait you mean super Saiyan!?! Even Havie can’t do that!”
Drunk Saiyan #1: "hey you saw that kid the boy not the girl I'm talking about he he unleashed a move that almost killed grakk
He unleashed a Stardust Breaker, cratering Grakk’s chest I mean not even an elite could do that much damage on that daim alien
Drunnk Saiyan: yeah kids these days are freaks back in our days we struggled even throwing a ki blast
Drunk Saiyan 1: haha I remember that man are we getting old
Drunk Saiyan 2:
Remember long ago when they captured that alien
Grakk, a 9-foot crocodilian nightmare, tore through Saiyan squads on a swamp planet. Fifteen Elites cornered him—three died screaming. Havie caught his strike mid-air. “Killed three of my men? Now you’ll clean three times as many toilets.”
Taros drink slipped from his hand. Kids. Super Saiyans. And I’m…
Taro (to the bartender): “What… what happened to Grakk’s body?”
Bartender: “Dumped in the incinerator. Even dead, that thing’s too dangerous to keep.”
Taro staggered into the slums, the hologram of Gogeta and Mori burning in his mind. He passed their smirking faces on a billboard: THE NEW LEGENDS.
Taro (to the hologram): “You’re not special. You’re just… lucky.”
In his shack, he found an old scouter beneath the floorboards. A hologram flickered: Young Havie gripping his shoulder after a failed spar.
Young Havie: “You’ve got fire, kid. Don’t let the weaklings smother it.”
Taro hurled the scouter against the wall—then scrambled to retrieve it, clutching it to his chest.
Taro snuck into the abandoned arena, his stolen training manual clutched in bleeding hands. The words blurred: Ki Control. Stamina Drills. Transformative Focus.
His fist connected with a broken dummy. It exploded—splinters flying, pain shooting up his arm.
Taro (grinning): “…Progress.”
The cracked screen flashed 70,000. For once, he didn’t flinch.
