Above the clouds, Pilaf's flying vessel drifted lazily across the sky.
Inside, the aged and wrinkled King Piccolo lounged in a chair, toying with six gleaming Dragon Balls in his clawed hands.
"Gather all seven, and any wish can be granted… Hehehehe…"
Pilaf, Mai, and Shu stood before him, forcing smiles that barely masked the cold sweat on their brows.
"Hehehe, that's right!" Pilaf said eagerly.
Mai added, "Surely, your wish must be world domination, right, Your Majesty?"
King Piccolo let out a raspy laugh. "Hah! World domination? That petty goal doesn't require Dragon Balls!"
He clenched a trembling fist, eyes gleaming.
"What I desire… is eternal youth. With that, the world will always belong to me."
The trio flinched at his grotesque, terrifying smile.
Truth be told, they never intended to serve such a monster.
They had been dreaming of world conquest themselves—and had already collected six Dragon Balls.
But while dredging a suspicious rice cooker out of the ocean, hoping it contained some powerful weapon… they accidentally released a nightmare.
Now, their dream of domination had turned into a struggle for survival.
Pilaf, barely hiding his regret, tried his best to cozy up to their new overlord.
"Hehe… Your Majesty's ambition is truly grand. I mean, we did discover the rice cooker that sealed you… We even gave you six Dragon Balls and this floating fortress…"
King Piccolo's gaze narrowed sharply.
"…Are you asking for a reward?"
That glare alone made Pilaf seize up.
"N-No! No, not at all! I-I was just thinking… maybe… maybe you could… share a quarter of the world with us?"
"A sixth? A twelfth? We're not picky! Hehehe…"
Beads of sweat dripped freely from their brows.
Piccolo, still idly rolling the six orbs in his hand, sneered.
"We'll see. But without the seventh, none of these matter. Find it for me. Quickly."
"Yes, Your Majesty! Absolutely!" the trio chorused, almost in unison.
Suddenly, Piccolo's expression froze.
His face twisted in pain, sweat beading on his forehead.
"Damn it…"
Mai immediately panicked. "Wh-What's wrong, Your Majesty?!"
Piccolo snarled, his voice dark.
"Tambourine is dead. I don't know how… but he's been killed."
Shu's eyes widened. "What?! That's impossible! No one can defeat your warriors!"
"I don't understand either!" Piccolo growled, slamming his fist down and shattering his chair's armrest.
Pilaf tried to calm him. "M-Maybe it was a mistake, Your Majesty? Could it be that Tambourine was… um… careless?"
"Careless?!" Piccolo roared. "You explain it then! How does a warrior of my blood get killed?!"
They all shut up instantly.
His fury was volcanic.
"…Fine. If that's how it's going to be, I'll create another warrior. One stronger than the last!"
"No, Your Majesty!" Shu blurted out. "You mustn't push yourself too hard! Not while your body is still aging. At least wait until you're young again!"
Shu, while born from Piccolo, was more of an attendant than a fighter. He genuinely cared for the old demon's health.
Piccolo paused at his words. He exhaled slowly… and then nodded.
"I won't wait too long, though."
With that, he swallowed all six Dragon Balls, then looked coldly at the trembling trio.
"You have three days. Bring me the last one."
Pilaf gawked. "Th-Three days?! That's too short! It took us three years to find the others!"
"Too slow," Piccolo snapped. "I'll create a new warrior. One that can fly. He'll help you."
All three of them winced.
The memory of watching Piccolo birth Tambourine was forever burned into their souls—and stomachs.
Still, Pilaf forced a smile.
"Y-Yes! That's brilliant! A flying assistant will be incredibly helpful! He could scout cliffsides and mountaintops… maybe we'll even find it in a day!"
"No! Please reconsider!" Shu cried. "Your body is too frail. One more child could…"
"I've already calculated it," Piccolo growled. "I can survive one more."
Everyone stepped back as the old Namekian began to focus his energy.
With a wet squelch, he spat out another egg.
Then doubled over, gasping for breath.
Shu rushed to his side. "Are you alright, Your Majesty?"
"I'm fine."
He turned to the egg.
"Come forth… Your name shall be… Cymbal."
Crack… Crack…
The egg split, and from within emerged a hulking, winged lizard-like demon.
Cymbal stood nearly three meters tall, muscular and imposing.
"Cymbal, your task is to find the final Dragon Ball. Take them with you."
"Yes, Father!" Cymbal growled, bowing.
He then turned to the trio.
"Which of you is coming?"
Pilaf's knees buckled at the sight of him.
No way was he riding that thing.
"U-Um, I'll be your radar operator! The signal comes from the ship—I'll direct you remotely! Shu and Mai can go with you!"
Shu shrieked, "I'm afraid of heights!"
Pilaf turned to Mai.
She opened her mouth to protest—but one glance from Piccolo shut her up. She nodded silently.
Cymbal knelt.
"You may hold onto my horns. Don't fall. If you die, I don't care. But if you waste his time… you'll all suffer."
Mai climbed on, gripping tight.
"…R-Ready!"
With that, Cymbal took to the skies, flying toward the last Dragon Ball.
Meanwhile, on Bulma's plane—
"He's back! Goku's back!"
Chi-Chi rushed to the window, waving excitedly.
Everyone turned.
They saw Goku flying in with Master Roshi, Tien, and Chiaotzu.
Krillin beamed. "Master Roshi! You're safe!"
Roshi blinked. "You all knew?"
Chi-Chi nodded. "Yup! Mr. Bo—um, I mean, the God's servant came and told us everything about King Piccolo."
"God's… servant?" Goku repeated.
Bulma clarified. "She meant Mr. Popo."
"Popo?" Goku blinked. "He was here?"
Bulma nodded. "He told us about the connection between Piccolo and the Dragon Balls. You all need to hear this. No one makes any decisions without hearing it first."
Goku, Roshi, Tien, and Chiaotzu listened quietly as Bulma recapped.
The revelation that Piccolo's death would destroy the Dragon Balls stunned everyone—except Goku, who already knew.
He hadn't intended to kill Piccolo anyway. Not if it meant losing the Dragon Balls forever.
Besides, the old demon had little time left—spitting out so many children had shortened his life.
Just like before, the ideal plan was to let him spawn a successor—then kill him.
But Goku didn't even need to plan this time.
Bulma had already set everything up.
After a full night's rest, Goku departed at dawn—riding the Flying Nimbus, radar in hand.
Only one signal remained.
He knew why: the other six were inside Piccolo's stomach.
After two hours of flight, Goku arrived at a mountain canyon where the last Dragon Ball was hidden deep beneath a mound of shattered rocks.
"Jeez… why'd it have to fall here?"
Then he heard a voice—feminine.
He ducked behind a rock and peeked.
Mai was there—alongside a hulking, winged demon.
Cymbal.
"Lord Pilaf, are you sure it's around here?" she said, holding a communicator.
"Yes, yes! Right in that area! Start digging!"
She nodded and began directing Cymbal, who started hurling massive boulders with ease.
Goku observed from the shadows.
He checked the radar, then looked back at Mai.
He smiled.
Pilaf's radar tech is getting more and more accurate…
And he brought a moving bulldozer with wings. Clever.
Alright then—
"Let them do the digging."
He wasn't here for the Dragon Balls.
He wanted Piccolo.
And once they found the last one…
Goku would follow them right to him.