Dragon Ball: Legend of the Saiyan God

"What I was thinking," the Captain, Ragorn, began, his voice laced with venom, "was to use this so-called 'training' as a pretext—to bring Yamoshi under control, under our watch. Let me make this clear, Toren: this kid is dangerous, and even you won't be able to dictate the outcome."

He let out a sinister laugh, slapping both hands on the table, his smugness filling the room.

Toren's expression remained cold and unreadable. "Do you want to bet on that?"

Ragorn paused mid-laugh, narrowing his eyes. "Bet? You dare use my goodwill for a wager? Bold. But..." He smirked, turning toward the window behind him and lighting a cigarette. "I like it. I'm in. What's the wager?"

Toren stepped forward, his voice sharp and unyielding. "If I win, you'll admit—publicly and without hesitation—that The Warrior Toren is superior to you."

The room grew heavier as Toren unleashed an unfathomable bloodthirst. His presence seemed to warp the air itself, and objects rattled from the sheer force of it.

"And if you lose?" Ragorn asked, though his voice faltered.

"Then I'll concede the same—and you'll have your way with Yamoshi."

The Captain struggled to hold his composure, sweat beading on his brow as he felt the weight of Toren's aura. Even Yamoshi, standing quietly beside his father, could barely breathe.

His hands trembled, and faint golden flickers began to shimmer in his eyes, as if his latent energy was awakening in response.

Ragorn exhaled sharply, regaining some control. "Very... well then." His smirk returned, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed his unease. "But that's enough for now."

Toren turned sharply. "I'll take my leave," he said coldly, grabbing Yamoshi by the shoulder. As they left the room, Toren slammed the door shut with enough force to make the walls shake.

While leaving, his bloodthirsty wasn't stopping, it was a warning. A declaration that if anyone overstepped their bounds with Yamoshi, Toren would not hold back.

Ragorn remained seated, fuming. He crushed his cigarette between his fingers, his hair disheveled from stress. "THAT BASTARD!" he roared, slamming his fist on the desk.

Meanwhile, whispers stirred through the base.

"Toren's bloodlust is back. I haven't felt this since the old days."

"He's warning everyone. That's a power no one wants to challenge."

"He must be furious to act like this."

From the shadows, a scarred, slender Saiyan warrior with long limbs chuckled darkly. "Hehehe, there's the Toren I remember. I've been waiting for this."

At the training grounds, a squad leader barked commands. "Focus, soldiers! That's the kind of power we're all striving for—don't let up!" Yet in his mind, he wondered: 'What could have set him off like this?'

Back in the office, the Vice Captain entered, shaking his head.

"What just happened here? Wasn't Toren here?"

Ragorn glared at him, still stewing in rage. "It's not the time for your questions."

The Vice Captain, Thalix, noticed a shattered toothpick on the floor, picking it up with a sly grin. "Isn't this The Fang of the Dragon whom you killed...? What's the matter, Captain? Did Toren rattle you?"

"ENOUGH!" the Captain barked, his voice cracking. "State your purpose and leave me be!"

The Vice Captain smirked. "Let me guess—you're going to let him walk out like that? Bloodlust and all? No repercussions?" He clicked his tongue. "You're letting an opportunity slip. Who's going to train Yamoshi? Did you even think about that?"

Ragorn turned, his jaw tightening.

Thalix opened the door. "Take action, Captain. Or do nothing—and let everyone see you falter."

That final push struck a nerve. Enraged, the Captain stormed out of the office, yelling, "TOREN!"

Toren and Yamoshi stopped in their tracks, Ragorn's furious aura almost tangible. "I'm not letting this go," the Captain declared, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he stalked toward them.

"Now that I think of it," he sneered, "no one here even wants to deal with Yamoshi. Until you can convince an instructor to take him, that kid has no place here." He smirked, muttering under his breath, 'And he never will.'

Toren opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak, a deep voice cut through the tension.

"I will."

The room fell silent. All eyes turned to a hulking figure stepping forward—a Saiyan with a fearsome reputation. It was The Skull Crusher, an infamous instructor known for his brutal, near-death training regimens.

The Captain froze for a moment, clearly caught off guard. "You? Drazik? You'd actually train him?"

Drazik grinned wickedly. "Sure. But only if the kid accepts. Let's see if he's brave enough to handle me."

He unleashed a blood-chilling aura that made even seasoned soldiers step back. Yamoshi trembled, his body reacting instinctively.

Toren glanced down at his son, his expression unreadable. "Well?"

Yamoshi hesitated, but only for a moment. He clenched his fists, golden light flaring around him as his voice rang out. "I WILL!"

The golden energy surged, silencing the room as it washed over everyone. The instructor's smirk widened. "So that's the boy they're all afraid of. Interesting."

Toren placed a hand on Yamoshi's shoulder, his voice calm yet firm. "As you can see, Captain, an instructor has stepped forward, and my son has accepted."

The Captain stared in disbelief, his anger smoldering.

Toren turned to leave but paused briefly. "If I've offended you, I apologize. A warrior must sometimes lose their pride to protect what matters most." scared a commotion could start.

And with that, he walked away, leaving behind a room filled with shock, awe, and seething resentment.

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