"Why don't you consider becoming one of my subordinates?"
If you can't beat them, recruit them. But that can go both ways—either you join the other person, or they join you. In the end, the goal is the same: turn an external conflict into an internal one.
"What do you say? As long as you nod, you'll immediately become the second-in-command of my Slug Army," Lord Slug offered, extending an olive branch.
But it was an offer without appeal. The golden figure before him didn't so much as flinch.
"Your body grew larger, yet your clothes and helmet did too—how does that work?" the golden figure asked instead, completely ignoring the proposal.
Slug's attire wasn't battle armor that could expand or contract with his body; he was wearing ordinary clothes and a simple helmet. And yet, both changed size along with him.
Don't ask why. The answer is simple—Namekian magic.
That's right. Slug's transformation was a result of the mystical powers of Planet Namek.
Because Lord Slug wasn't a native of Planet Slug at all—he wasn't even born there.
He was, in truth, a Namekian.
The ruler of Planet Slug wasn't a Slugian. Just as certain world leaders might not rule their country of birth, this wasn't unusual in certain corners of the universe.
During the great climate catastrophe that befell Planet Namek long ago, a Namekian infant was sent away by his father on a spaceship—
much like the story of Earth's Guardian.
That infant was Slug.
Unlike the pure-hearted Guardian of Earth, however, Slug was one of the rare evil-born Namekians—corrupted not by circumstance or external influence, but by nature itself.
He wasn't like King Piccolo, whose evil half was split off from a once-good being; Slug's darkness was innate.
And to make matters worse, he was a mutant Namekian—a genetic anomaly born with immense power surpassing most warrior-type Namekians from birth.
A being that could rightfully be called a Super Namekian.
Unfortunately, that same Super Namekian was now far past his prime.
His once-bright green skin had turned a dull, dark shade—an unmistakable sign that a Namekian's life was nearing its end.
Slug ignored the golden figure's question and pressed on. "You possess extraordinary strength. If the two of us joined forces, no one in the universe could oppose us."
"You've heard of that so-called 'Emperor of the Universe,' Frieza, haven't you? Together, we could kill him and take his throne. Doesn't that sound delightful?"
Slug's voice took on a persuasive, almost hypnotic tone.
"Don't you want to become the next emperor of the universe?"
"We could share it between us—rule everything that exists."
Foolish and fearless, thought the golden figure. Frieza's power level is 120 million.
To think of killing Frieza and taking his place? You're not even close.
A rejuvenated Slug might have been a genuine threat—one of the few beings in the universe capable of rivaling Frieza. But in his current, withered state, he was far weaker. Among the cosmos, he was still formidable, but at best, he might match Frieza's third form. Against Frieza's final form, there was no comparison.
Before the events of the later arcs, Frieza's name was synonymous with invincibility.
"I haven't used my full power yet," Slug said, his tone growing strained as he noticed the other's indifferent gaze. "If I release everything, you won't stand a chance!"
As if to prove his words, his energy began to surge. His power level climbed rapidly.
He had been holding back—hiding his strength.
But even with that surge, it was meaningless.
The gap between them was too vast, as though they existed on entirely different planes of existence.
Beads of sweat rolled down Slug's forehead as he panted heavily, his mind racing. He needed a plan. Suddenly, his eyes flashed with deceit.
"F–Frieza?! What are you doing here!?" he shouted, pointing past the golden figure in mock terror.
The golden figure froze for a split second and instinctively turned around.
Slug's face twisted into a triumphant grin. "Perfect opportunity!"
He focused all his remaining strength into his hands, gathering energy at incredible speed, and thrust his palms forward.
"Demon Wave Cannon!!"
A crimson torrent of energy engulfed the golden figure.
"Hahahaha! So what if you're stronger than me? In the end, you still die by my hand!" Slug roared with laughter, staring up at the now-empty sky.
The attack had drained him completely—his energy plummeted, his power level collapsing rapidly. But he didn't care. What mattered was that his enemy was gone.
Or so he thought.
He failed to notice the faint wisp of white smoke dissipating with the blast.
Had a sensory ninja or a shinobi with ocular powers been there, they would have recognized it immediately—the energy of a Shadow Clone.
That golden figure was none other than Naruto Uzumaki.
A child of the Hidden Leaf.
A shinobi forged in a world of deception and strategy.
Slug's crude trickery was laughably transparent to someone like Naruto.
Such distraction tactics had appeared countless times even in the Dragon Ball universe, and they rarely worked there either.
While Slug had been plotting against Naruto—
Naruto had been plotting against him.
He'd simply played along.
In exchange for one expendable shadow clone, he'd forced Slug to waste his entire store of energy.
And since a shadow clone's remaining chakra returns to the original when dispelled, Naruto's actual loss was minimal—merely the small fraction of chakra consumed by the technique's dissolution.
"What are you laughing at?" came a calm, almost teasing voice behind him. "Tell me—I'd like to laugh too."
The sound froze Slug's blood. His laughter stopped instantly.
Stiffly, he turned around.
Standing there, perfectly unharmed—
not a single hair out of place—was Naruto.
Naruto's expression was mild, almost kindly.
But the warmth of his smile was anything but comforting.
He slowly raised his fist.
And brought it down.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
Each strike sent tremors ripping through the entire planet.
Every creature across Planet Slug that could sense ki shuddered in terror as the very ground beneath them quaked.
"…Why does this feel so familiar?" murmured Kurama within Naruto's sealed space, frowning slightly. Then, after a pause, the Nine-Tails grumbled, "Ugh. It's making me uncomfortable."
When the dust settled, Slug lay motionless on the ground, his breathing ragged, violet blood pooling around him. His eyes stared blankly at the dark sky above.
Naruto looked down at the battered Demon King. He didn't finish him off.
Instead, he pressed his palms together.
As they parted, his voice was calm—almost gentle.
"Planetary Devastation."
PS: Access the complete/finished chapters/series at Patreon: NanamiTL
Please drop some power stones support me at my Patreon