I apologize guys because in the past chapter l said to rape the women. When there are not any Namekian women.
I was sadly mistaken. I thought there were because l was seeing a ton of Namekian style women on Pinterest.
Which is no excuse.
Regardless enjoy the chapter and make sure to comment and give Stones.
---
Frieza stood before Porunga on the scarred surface of Namek, his newly regenerated body flawless once more — left arm whole, left eye restored, golden blood dried and forgotten.
The Ginyu Force knelt in a semicircle behind him, the young Namekian child trembling between them, the seven Dragon Balls glowing faintly at Frieza's feet like obedient jewels.
The dragon's massive form loomed, eyes burning red, voice rumbling like distant thunder across the devastated landscape.
"What is your final wish, mortal?"
Frieza raised his chin, red eyes locked on Porunga's gaze without a flicker of fear. His voice was calm, precise, carrying the quiet certainty of someone who had already won.
"For my last wish…"
He paused — letting the moment stretch, the wind whispering through the ruins as if the planet itself held its breath.
"I wish for the ability to summon the Super Dragon Balls to me whenever I desire… but only one time."
Porunga's colossal form visibly hesitated — a subtle shift in the dragon's posture, the red glow in his eyes dimming for the briefest instant as if weighing the request against the fabric of reality itself.
The silence was heavy, oppressive.
Then Porunga spoke — voice deep, reluctant, yet bound by the rules of his creation.
"It is possible… but for every meter each Dragon Ball must travel, you will pay with your ki and your lifespan."
A pause — the dragon's gaze piercing Frieza.
"The cost will be immense. The Super Dragon Balls are scattered across Universe 7 and universe 6. To summon them all at once… would require a toll that could drain even a god."
Frieza's lips curved into a slow, chilling smile — the kind that had once made entire planets kneel.
He had infinite ki.
His lifespan — now eternal, unbound by mortal decay thanks to the Cerealian wish — was a bottomless well.
The toll was meaningless.
Frieza's voice remained velvet-soft, yet carried the weight of inevitability.
"I accept."
Porunga's eyes flared once more — red light intensifying.
" ThenIt shall be granted."
The dragon's form shimmered — the wish etched into existence.
Frieza felt it — a new thread woven into his soul: the power to call the Super Dragon Balls to him, once, at his choosing.
The cost would come later — a mountain of ki and time — but for him? Nothing.
While most beings would need to know the Divine Language to speak the summon, Frieza had watched Whis summon them in his past life.
With a newly acquired spell to replay any memory in perfect clarity, he had studied the incantation frame by frame.
He knew the words.
He knew the power.
Porunga's eyes dimmed.
The dragon spoke one final time — voice fading like dying thunder.
"Your wishes have been fulfilled. I now depart."
The seven Dragon Balls rose into the sky — glowing one last time — then scattered across Namek, turning to stone, waiting for the next century.
Frieza stood amid the ruins — whole, empowered.
Arms spread in a T-pose. Why some may ask, Because he wanted to.
The Ginyu Force remained kneeling, awestruck.
The child wept silently.
Frieza turned away.
Beerus would come.
But now…
Frieza had the Super Dragon Balls.
And the means to summon them.
When the time was right.
He would be ready.
Not as a mortal.
Not as a god.
As something beyond both.
And Frieza smiled.
Frieza stood amid the scorched ruins of Namek, his newly regenerated body flawless once more — left arm whole, left eye restored to its piercing red glare framed by black sclera.
Golden blood still coated his skin in sticky sheets, dripping from his chin and staining the cracked earth beneath his feet.
He clicked his tongue in irritation — a sharp, dismissive sound that cut through the silence like a blade.
With a casual snap of his fingers, a pulse of ki swept over him — invisible yet absolute, vaporizing every trace of filth.
The golden blood evaporated into shimmering mist, his pale skin gleaming pristine under the bruised sky. No trace of gore remained; he was immaculate again.
He glanced down at his torn clothes — the elegant suit shredded by Beerus's hakai, fabric hanging in ragged strips. Frieza raised one finger, pointing at his own chest.
A thin beam of energy — the same violet Piccolo used for clothing — lanced from his fingertip, wrapping around him in a cocoon of light.
The beam solidified.
A three-piece wine-red suit materialized — deep, bloodlike crimson with golden accents that caught the faint light like molten metal.
The jacket was tailored sharp, broad-shouldered, double-breasted with six gleaming onyx buttons.
Beneath it, a crisp white Oxford shirt, the collar crisp and perfect. The trousers were high-waisted, straight-cut, breaking flawlessly over polished Italian leather loafers in deep burgundy.
A beautiful skeleton watch — black face, gold gears visible through crystal — adorned his wrist.
On his right ring finger, a single ring: a condensed ki stone, dark purple, pulsing faintly — a spare power source for emergencies, he thought with a low, amused chuckle.
He adjusted his cufflinks — twin golden dragon motifs — and turned.
Now that Frieza is dressed for the occasion.
His gaze fell on the young Namekian child.
The boy knelt amid the blood-soaked Land, trembling, tears carving clean tracks through the dirt on his green cheeks.
He had spoken every wish word for word, voice cracking, small body shaking with terror and grief.
Frieza towered over him — tall, imposing, the wine-red suit making him look like a king of hell descended to survey his domain.
He crouched slowly — knees bending with deliberate grace, bringing his face level with the child's.
One hand rested on his own knee for balance.
The other — newly formed — reached out, touching the poor childcheeks like a predator
Frieza's voice was soft — deceptively gentle, the kind of softness that hid a blade.
"What is it that you desire, child?"
The boy flinched at the closeness, fresh tears welling.
Frieza continued, tone calm, almost paternal.
"Since you have made my wishes come true… I shall grant one of yours."
The child looked up — eyes wide, terrified, yet flickering with the faintest spark of desperate hope.
Frieza's smile was small, patient, terrifying.
"Speak."
The boy's voice cracked — barely a whisper.
"…Can you… bring back all the people who died?"
Captain Ginyu stepped forward immediately — boots crunching on blood-soaked grass — his posture rigid, voice sharp with forced authority.
"Kid, be realistic. You don't get to—"
Frieza raised one hand — a single, elegant gesture that silenced Ginyu instantly.
The captain froze mid-sentence, mouth open, then bowed low.
Frieza slowly bringing his flawless, newly regenerated face level with the child's.
His wine-red suit remained immaculate, golden accents gleaming under the bruised Namekian sky. The child flinched instinctively, but Frieza's voice was soft — almost gentle.
"Is that truly what you desire?"
The boy nodded — tears spilling anew, small fists clenched.
"Yes… I want to see my friends again…"
Frieza's smile bloomed — slow, gentle on the surface, the kind that could almost pass for kindness.
But to the child's family bound and kneeling nearby it was terrifying. Their eyes were wide, bodies shaking, knowing exactly what that smile hid.
Frieza straightened — towering once more.
He turned his gaze to the horizon — villages still smoldering, smoke curling like funeral pyres.
Corpses of young Namekians and children hung from trees and poles — gutted, entrails dangling in grotesque garlands, bodies swaying gently in the wind like macabre ornaments.
Frieza's eye drifted over them — calm, appraising.
He chuckled softly, low and amused.
"You really did a number on them, huh."
Ginyu straightened instantly — chest tightening in Panic
"My lord, you said to use any force necessary."
Frieza waved a hand — dismissive, almost fond.
"Oh, it's fine. Not like I didn't expect this."
Ginyu let out a visible sigh of relief — shoulders sagging.
Frieza looked down at his finger. Then he slowly raised it to his mouth biting the tip of the finger gently.
Golden blood welled — thick, luminous.
He held the finger out over the scarred earth.
A single drop fell — hitting the ground with a soft hiss.
Frieza whispered — voice barely audible, yet carrying across the planet like a death knell.
"Ingall."
The word was ancient.
Forbidden.
A single drop of golden blood spread — seeping into the soil like liquid light.
Flower slowly bloomed.
As a soft green glow ignited — rising from every corpse.
Children hanging from trees.
Men torn apart.
Warriors cut down.
The glow enveloped them — gentle, almost tender.
Eyes fluttered open.
Chests rose with ragged breaths.
Intestines retracted — wounds sealing in reverse.
Bodies that had been gutted and displayed slowly lowered themselves, limbs reforming, flesh knitting as if time itself rewound.
The child gasped stumbling forward.
His friends — the ones whose bodies had been mutilated — sat up, dazed, alive.
The entire village — hundreds of dead.....
Arise
Not as zombies.
As themselves — whole, breathing, remembering.
The forbidden spell: Soul Resurrection — also know as Ingall. Normally was limited to bodies that was slain less than 24 hours old.
But Frieza's infinite god-ki and magic mastery had rewritten the rule.
No limit.
No decay.
Only obedience.
The child looked up at Frieza — tears of joy mixing with terror.
Frieza smiled — gentle to the boy, horrifying to everyone else.
"You have your friends back."
He turned away — dismissing the scene.
The revived Namekians stared — some weeping, some frozen in horror, memories of their deaths fresh and vivid.
They knew who had killed them.
And who had brought them back.
Frieza's voice carried over his shoulder — soft, absolute.
"You live because I allow it."
He walked toward the Dragon Balls — Ginyu and the Force falling in behind him.
The child clutched his resurrected friends — sobbing.
Namek was alive again.
But the terror had only just begun.
Frieza had granted The child his wish.
And the price… was eternal servitude.
---
IMPORTANT NOTICE
I know some guys will complain why killed them if l was going to revive them.
It was simply to prove a point to Namekian.
Frieza just had ordered the Ginyu Force to massacre Namek..... genocide, child murder, body desecration.
Reviving them now would be the ultimate psychological twist: the monster who destroyed them becomes their "savior."
It mirrors his earlier "mercy" on the child granting a wish only to twist it.
Reviving the Namekians makes him their god and devil in one breath.
The Namekians will live knowing Frieza slaughtered their people, hung their children, burned their homes — yet he brought them back. That trauma will break them more than death ever could.