Dragon Ball Z: The Beast Within

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Currently on CH9

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Enjoy you sexy bastards.

Update Schedule: Monday and Friday.

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[Escarot POV.]

Beerus exhaled through his nose, still pretending like me asking for an autograph was some kind of massive inconvenience for him. His tail flicked lazily behind him, and he waved a hand dismissively.

"Hmph. I suppose I could grant you such a request," he said, his voice dripping with fake indifference. "After all, I am feeling particularly merciful today."

Whis chuckled behind him. "How generous of you, Lord Beerus." 

Beerus shot him a quick glare before returning his attention to me. "But don't get the wrong idea, brat. I'm not doing this because you asked. It's simply…" He trailed off, tapping a clawed finger against his chin. "A rare occasion, yes. A special moment. One that you should be grateful for."

Oh, I was. 

I was also trying really hard not to smirk. One, I had avoided being destroyed, and two, I was getting an autograph with my favorite Dragon Ball character. Two for one special.

I bowed my head slightly, keeping my voice as respectful as possible. "Of course, Lord Beerus. I deeply appreciate your generosity."

Beerus closed his eyes and nodded, clearly pleased with himself. "Naturally."

I continued bowing. Not being entirely sure when it was the appropriate moment to… well, return back to a normal posture.

Beerus stretched his arms above his head, sighing dramatically. "Very well, I'll grant your little request." Then, without looking, he flicked a hand toward Whis. "Whis, paper and pen."

Whis, already expecting this, chuckled softly as he tapped his staff against the air. A small notepad and a fine golden pen materialized in his hands. "Here you go, Lord Beerus."

Beerus took them with a lazy flick of his wrist, looking very pleased with himself despite still pretending this was just a minor inconvenience. He examined his work for a moment, nodding in satisfaction, before casually tossing the paper at me.

He really was just a cat with Godly powers.

I barely caught it in time.

"There," he said, folding his arms. "You now own a signature from the greatest being in the universe. You should be honored."

I held the paper carefully, staring at the elegantly written Beerus the Destroyer at the bottom. I was definitely honored. And also slightly terrified.

Beerus yawned. "If only your king were this respectful," he muttered, rolling his shoulders. "I might tolerate his existence a little more."

Whis chuckled. "Now, now, Lord Beerus. We both know King Vegeta's pride and limited intelligence doesn't allow for such humble displays."

Beerus scoffed. "Hmph. And that is why he's so irritating." His tail flicked again before he turned his gaze back to me. "But you, at least, have some sense."

I kept my head down slightly, gripping the autograph just a little tighter.

For the first time since he had appeared, I finally felt like I wasn't about to die.

Beerus tapped his chin, his golden eyes narrowing slightly as he looked me over. "You know," he mused, "I don't believe I ever got your name."

I blinked, my grip tightening slightly on the autograph. He had already asked me that earlier, but I sure as hell wasn't about to correct him. You do not correct the guy who can sneeze a galaxy out of existence just because.

"It's Escarot, Lord Beerus," I said quickly, keeping my voice respectful.

Beerus hummed, as if committing it to memory—or immediately forgetting it. "Escarot, huh? Hmph. Well, at least one Saiyan on this planet has some manners."

Whis smiled. "Shall we, Lord Beerus? I believe King Vegeta is still waiting for your important request."

Beerus sighed dramatically, stretching his arms above his head. "Ugh, yes, let's get this over with. I suppose I should let the annoying king grovel before me for a while."

Without another word, he turned away, tail flicking as he floated up beside Whis.

I let out a slow breath, not daring to move until they were completely gone.

—-------------------------------------------------------

[Third Person POV.][King Vegeta.]

King Vegeta sat upon his throne, his expression set in its usual firm scowl as he listened to the latest report from one of his commanders.

It was nothing particularly important—just an update on the recent off-world skirmishes, a minor conquest that King Cold had ordered the Saiyans to complete. He barely paid attention. The results were exactly as expected. The weak had fallen. The strong had proven their worth.

As it should be.

His fingers tapped idly against the armrest of his throne, his mind already drifting to more pressing concerns—King Cold's movements, the state of his warriors, the lingering unease in his gut that told him something was coming.

And then—

A pressure filled the room.

It was like the very air had been stolen, sucked away and replaced with something far heavier. A suffocating force that settled deep into the bones of everyone present.

King Vegeta's spine stiffened immediately. His instincts screamed at him, his tail bristling even as he remained still.

He knew this presence.

He had only encountered this monster three times in his life, and by now his body knew who it was. 

The God of Destruction. 

Beerus.

The room fell completely silent as a figure appeared before him, walking into the throne room.

The Saiyan's King mind raced—why is he here? What does he want? Did someone insult him? Was he going to destroy the Saiyans? But none of that mattered, because right now, Beerus was walking toward him.

Regardless of the reason behind his appearance today, there was nothing the King could do to stop him.

The God of Destruction stood lazily before the throne, his golden eyes half-lidded, his arms loosely crossed, yawning.

His first instinct was to stand, to bow, to kneel—but he was the King of the Saiyans. If he submitted too quickly, too easily, it would be weakness. And weakness meant death.

The God might be stronger than him, but he still had his pride.

So, against every screaming instinct in his body, he remained seated.

Beerus's golden eyes flicked up at him, unimpressed.

Then he sighed.

"Do you think," Beerus drawled, tail swishing lazily behind him, "That you can sit on your throne while I am in the room?"

King Vegeta felt his blood turn to ice. And through sheer fear, his throne was forgotten in an instant as he scrambled forward, falling to his knees with his head bowed low. His tail coiled tightly between his legs, an unconscious display of submission.

"My lord Beerus," he said quickly, his voice steady despite the terror clawing at his insides. "Forgive my disrespect."

The room was silent.

No one dared breathe.

Every Saiyan present kept their heads lowered, not daring to look directly at the God of Destruction.

For a few agonizing seconds, Beerus said nothing.

Then—

"Hmph."

A simple sound, yet it carried more weight than any decree King Vegeta had ever given.

He clenched his fists against the cold marble floor, waiting, heart pounding.

Beerus yawned, stretching his arms above his head like he was already growing bored of this interaction. "Well, at least you know your place," he muttered. His tail flicked once before he lazily waved a hand. "Though it would serve you well to remember your place faster next time. After all, next time, I might not be so merciful."

King Vegeta remained perfectly still, not daring to rise until he was told to. He had seen what happened to those who assumed too much around beings like this.

Beerus smirked, clearly enjoying his fear. "I have a task for you."

King Vegeta swallowed. "A—A task, my lord?"

Beerus nodded. "Yes, something of great importance." His ears twitched as he clasped his hands behind his back. "I have the best food, the best palace, the best bed, the best blankets—" he narrowed his golden eyes, "—but I do not have the best pillow in the universe."

Silence.

King Vegeta blinked, his overwhelming fear momentarily overridden by sheer confusion.

"…Pillow?" he echoed hesitantly.

Beerus's tail flicked sharply, his expression darkening. "Did I stutter, King?"

"No! No, of course not, my lord!" King Vegeta said quickly, his head lowering further.

Whis chuckled softly behind him. "Lord Beerus simply desires a pillow worthy of his divine stature. And he has chosen you to oversee this very important matter."

King Vegeta could feel the stares of his guards and advisors burning into him, but none of them dared react.

A pillow.

The God of Destruction had come all this way… for a pillow.

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to keep his expression neutral. "It will be done, Lord Beerus. I will have my best men begin the search at once."

Beerus waved a hand dismissively. "Good. See to it personally. I expect results."

The message was clear.

Failure was not an option.

King Vegeta kept his head low, heart still pounding as he tried to process the absolute absurdity of the situation. The God was using him as a… common slave to find him a stupid pillow?!

A pillow. The fate of his people—of his own life—now hinged on finding a pillow.

But before he could even begin to think of a proper response, Beerus spoke again.

"Oh, and one more thing."

King Vegeta stiffened. "Yes, my lord?"

Beerus smirked, eyes glinting with amusement. "I want a particular Saiyan assigned to this mission."

The king's fingers twitched against the floor. What?

Beerus leaned forward slightly, his tone light, almost playful. "His name is Escarot."

A ripple of tension passed through the room.

King Vegeta knew that name.

Escarot. A high-class warrior, one of the strongest Saiyan children recorded in years. He had been informed of the boy's birth power level—an absurdly high 1275, something that had only increased over the past month.

He had never met the child personally, but warriors of that caliber were always noted. Saiyans that strong were raised for the empire's greatest battles, the highest-profile missions.

And yet, for some incomprehensible reason, the God of Destruction wanted him involved in this… pillow quest.

King Vegeta forced his voice to remain even. "Escarot, my lord?"

Beerus gave him an unimpressed look. "Yes, I believe that's what I just said." His tail flicked in irritation. "I don't like repeating myself, so do try to listen."

The king's blood ran cold. "No! No, of course, my lord! It will be done immediately!"

Beerus hummed, satisfied. "Good."

Why did the Destroyer wanted Escarot personally? The cub was strong for his age, but he lacked experience.

"Oh, and if I may add," Whis said, tapping his staff lightly against his shoulder, "Escarot was quite well-mannered when he met Lord Beerus."

King Vegeta's eyes twitched. Met?

Beerus yawned, stretching his arms above his head. "Yes, much better than your other brats." He sighed dramatically. "Honestly, if the rest of your kind behaved like him, I might find this planet marginally less irritating."

The king barely managed to keep his expression neutral. What in the world had this child done to gain Beerus's favor?

"I… see," King Vegeta said carefully, forcing himself to bow his head once more. "That is… good to hear, my lord."

"Mm. Yes, yes, I am rather pleased with him," Beerus mused. Then, with a bored flick of his wrist, he turned away. "Now then, Whis, let's leave the king to his very important mission. I expect results soon, I will take a nap while I wait, so… you have around 5 years to find me the best pillow in the entire universe, or else…."

Whis smiled. "Of course, Lord Beerus."

—-----------------------------------------------------

[Escarot POV.]

I sat on a rock, arms crossed, waiting. 

Waiting for what? For my heart to stop beating like a drum, and for Okara to wake up. I mean, it was only fair, I had knocked her out, and while it was true I had done so to save both of our lives, I still feel obligated to wait for me.

It took about an hour before she finally groaned, shifting slightly before her eyes shot open.

The moment she realized she was on the ground, she bolted upright, face scrunched in confusion—then her eyes locked onto me.

And oh, she was pissed.

"You BASTARD!" Okara roared, launching herself at me with all the rage of a miniature war god.

She swung at my face, fists flying in a wild blur of anger.

I didn't dodge.

Didn't block.

Didn't even flinch.

Because the gap between us was so massive that her punches felt like absolutely nothing. And I was being generous with that description.

Paper towels.

Wet paper towels.

If I hadn't been watching her, I wouldn't have even noticed I was being hit.

"You knocked me out?!" she snarled between punches. "Who the hell just does that?! And why?!"

Me, apparently. And why? To save our lives.

I sighed. "Are you done?"

She growled and hit me harder. Or at least, I assumed it was harder. It still felt like nothing.

I resisted the urge to yawn. This was going to take a while.

….

....

...…

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Okara did not stop.

For half an hour.

Thirty full minutes.

She just kept swinging, throwing punch after punch, her face locked in sheer, unrelenting rage.

And I just stood there.

Waiting.

Letting her get it all out of her system.

Because, honestly? It didn't matter.

Her punches landed, sure. But they did nothing.

No pain. No real impact. It was like getting hit with a particularly determined breeze. Or a very angry teddy bear who had gained sentience and had murderous intent.

At some point, I started counting the hits in my head just to pass the time.

Four hundred twenty-six… four hundred twenty-seven… four hundred twen—

"WHY WON'T YOU FALL, YOU PIECE OF SHIT?!"

I blinked, snapping back to reality as Okara stepped back, panting heavily, fists still clenched. Her entire body was trembling—not with rage this time, but exhaustion.

Had she in her anger forgotten the difference in power we had?

Her breathing was ragged, her arms shaking from overuse, sweat dripping from her forehead.

And I?

I hadn't moved an inch.

"…Feel better?" I asked.

Okara twitched. Then she let out a frustrated, animalistic yell before dropping onto her ass, completely spent.

I stretched my arms, rolling my shoulders as I looked down at her collapsed form.

"Can we talk now?" I asked.

Okara didn't answer right away. She just sat there, glaring, panting, fists clenched at her sides. Then, finally, she gritted her teeth and growled, "Why did you knock me out?"

I sighed. "Because the guy you were about to mouth off to was stronger than every single Saiyan on this planet combined."

She blinked. "What?"

I crouched down slightly, leveling her with a serious look. "If you had pissed him off enough, he wouldn't have just killed you. He would've killed me. And then, just for fun, he probably would've destroyed the entire planet."

Okara stared at me, frowning like she wasn't sure if I was messing with her or not. "…That's bullshit."

I shook my head. "No. It's not."

She narrowed her eyes. "Who the hell was that guy?"

I exhaled slowly. "That was Beerus, the God of Destruction."

Her scowl deepened, but I could see the flicker of doubt in her expression. "…God of what?"

Before I could explain further, a sharp gust of wind blew past us, followed by the thud of boots hitting the ground.

Two Saiyans, clad in the armor worn by the royal guard, landed a few feet away. Their expressions were hard, unreadable, the kind of look that said they weren't here to waste time.

The bigger of the two took a step forward. "Escarot."

I tensed instinctively. Great. What now?

"The King has summoned you," the guard continued, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You are to come with us immediately."

Okara glanced between them and me. "Why?"

The second guard shot her a glare. "That's none of your concern, brat."

She bared her teeth. "Say that again—"

I sighed, rubbing my temples. This was really not the time for her attitude.

I stood up, dusting myself off. "Fine. Let's go."

The guards nodded, turning on their heels. I cast one last glance at Okara, who still looked pissed, confused, and just a little betrayed. "We'll continue our thing later."

—-----------------------------------------------------------

The flight to the throne room wasn't long, but it felt like it lasted forever.

I had never been inside the castle before. It was huge—tall ceilings, polished floors, banners of the royal insignia hanging from the walls. It was… strangely regal, compared to everything else in Planet Vegeta.

I mean… Most of the houses were in cave formations, or looked like caves. So this was quite the change of scenery.

When we finally entered the throne room, the first thing I noticed was the King himself, sitting stiffly on his throne, his sharp gaze locked onto me the second I stepped forward.

He looked… pissed.

At me, sure, no idea why, but also at something else.

I kept my face neutral, stopping a few feet away from the base of his throne. I wasn't dumb enough to bow, but I also wasn't stupid enough to stand too casually.

The King exhaled through his nose, clearly irritated. "Escarot," he said, his tone clipped. "Do you have any idea why you're here?"

I could take a wild guess, Beerus. "Not exactly, my King."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Lord Beerus has requested that you personally be assigned to his task."

I tensed, but kept my expression still. I knew that already, but hearing it confirmed was another thing entirely.

The King's lip curled slightly, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his throne. "Of all the warriors on this planet, he chose you." There was something bitter in his voice, something that told me this wasn't just about me—it was about Beerus forcing his hand.

I wasn't an idiot. I knew how power worked. The King of the Saiyans may have ruled this planet, but he was King Cold's personal slave, and Beerus? Well, in a way, he ruled everything.

And it killed King Vegeta to have his authority trampled on.

He leaned forward slightly, eyes hard. "You leave tomorrow."

That was fast.

I opened my mouth, hesitated for a second, then decided I might as well ask. "Can I take someone with me?"

I couldn't have my training partner slack off. I needed to get her up to speed so that she could push me to grow stronger.

The guards beside me stiffened slightly, but King Vegeta just scoffed.

One of the guards, the one I ingeniously dubbed, Scarface, due to the scar on his face, spoke up. "He was seen with a Saiyan female at the mountains, my King. A low-class warrior."

The King rolled his eyes, leaning back against his throne. "Hmph. I don't care if you take fodder with you." His tone was dismissive, like the idea was so beneath him it wasn't worth acknowledging.

Well… that was easy.

The King waved a hand. "You're dismissed."

And just like that, it was decided.

Tomorrow, Okara and I were leaving Planet Vegeta.

I turned to leave, but then it hit me.

He never actually told me what the job was.

I stopped mid-step, glancing back up at the King. "…What exactly am I supposed to do?"

King Vegeta's fingers, which had been tapping impatiently against the armrest of his throne, curled into a fist. His jaw tensed like he couldn't believe I had the nerve to ask.

Then he exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this entire situation was giving him a migraine.

"Lord Beerus," he said, voice tight, "Wants you to find him a pillow, and not any pillow, but the best in the universe."

Silence.

I stared at him.

"…A pillow?"

The King's eye twitched. "Yes."

That tracks with Beerus' personality to be honest.