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theunkn0wn-0 · 6 months

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The Gift of Immortality DRAGON BALL STORY: Insert Reader

GENDER-NEUTRAL READER ✕ DRAGON BALL CHARACTERS

╰➤ ⌈ 𝑰𝑵𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵… ⌋ ╰┈┈➤ This is a FIRST PERSON POV story for the reader, Y/N, M/C. ╰┈┈➤ Instead of (Y/N), I use [First Name] for your name. ╰┈┈➤ Enjoy the story, have fun.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER: 002 | 𝑩𝑬𝑻𝑹𝑨𝒀𝑨𝑳𝑺 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑾𝑨𝑲𝑬𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 FIRST CHAPTER: 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬 — 𝑩𝑰𝑹𝑻𝑯 | 1

WARNINGS: Mentions of SWEARING!!!

003 | Fate's Gamble

❝Faith is a gamble, and against the odds, I'll bet on hope every time.❞

•◉◓☆◓◉•

In the suffocating silence, with only the looming presence of Junior at my back. It took every ounce of willpower to break free from the paralysis of fear and turn on my heel, determined to escape the suffocating weight of his gaze. My path was abruptly blocked by Junior. I refused to meet his eyes, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of my fear. His voice, deep and rough-hewn, resonated through the building.

"Where do you think you're going?" His words cut through the silence like a knife, dripping with amusement. I clenched my jaw, refusing to dignify his question with a response; I remained silent, my lips pressed into a thin line of defiance against his taunts, but he persisted.

"Are you planning to run?" His voice danced with a twisted sense of pleasure, laced with bitterness, relishing in my discomfort. "I know how much you value these fragile humans. It won't be long before I snuff out their pathetic lives, for your sake. Or..." His voice trailed off; I met his gaze, a flicker of dread igniting within me. And then, the final blow, the revelation that sent a chill down my spine.

"Would you like me to reveal your secret to the world?"

My heart is pounding with a mixture of fear and fury. "You wouldn't dare," I retorted, my voice barely above a whisper, as I dared him to cross that line. Junior's smirk widened, a grotesque display of his power and arrogance.

"Oh, but I will," he ridiculed, a reminder of the chains that bound me to him, forged in the fires of past traumas and shared histories; he may be King Piccolo's son, but he was still him. I stood my ground, refusing to back down and let him see the cracks in my facade.

"Get to the point," I demanded. "What are you even here for, and what do you want from me?" His response was simple. "Revenge," he declared, his words dripping with harshness.

"But there's more. Son Goku is an obstacle in my path, and you... you are simply collateral damage. And perhaps a bit of sport. What's more entertaining than watching your enemies fall at your feet?"

His black eyes bore into mine; I listened, my brow furrowing in contemplation, as he outlined his reasons. As Junior mentioned Goku, a spark of intrigue ignited within me. If Goku stood in his way, then perhaps he was the key to defeating this tyrant permanently.

I could use that to my advantage.

I could glean valuable insight into his strengths and weaknesses. It was a risky gambit, but one—I was willing to take for my survival. I kept my expression neutral, refusing to betray any hint of amusement.

"I see you're still the same King Piccolo the last time we met," I spoke, my voice steady despite the turmoil brewing within me. "Still chasing after the same old dreams of world domination?"

"I am the reincarnation of him, of course, I'm him. And this time, you or that bastard Goku and his allies won't stop me." His reply dripped with arrogance; each word was a reminder of his insatiable thirst for power.

Reincarnation? Is... King Piccolo dead?

The revelation of his reincarnation sent a jolt of disbelief through me, quickly overshadowed by the grim realization of the threat he posed. If anything, Junior would be much stronger than the old demon himself centuries ago. But I couldn't dwell on the implications as Junior's presence here, in this tournament, indicated a more profound purpose. I probed, my tone measured.

"You're here to assess the fighters, aren't you? To see if they are a threat or not. Correct?"

A brief twitch of irritation crossed Junior's features, confirming my suspicions. But he quickly regained his demeanor, his tone laced with thinly veiled disdain. "You're smart enough to figure that out, always been quick on the uptake, for a mere human. But don't think for a moment that you can fool me."

I squared my shoulders. "So, how do you intend to defeat me then? You know well enough how difficult it is for me to stay down..."

My words were a challenge, a subtle ploy to glean information from him. I needed to know his strategy, to understand his next move, even if it meant playing into his ego. Junior maintained his smug demeanor, a smirk playing at his lips as he let out a derisive snort.

"As if I'd divulge my plans to you," he scoffed, his arrogance palpable.

"Unless, of course, you have no plan at all," I countered, hoping to exploit his overconfidence. But Junior remained resolute, refusing to yield to my manipulation, unlike King Piccolo, who had fallen into that tactic.

"Don't try to play games with me. Let's not forget, traitor or not, I own you. You're my weapon I have created to be."

Suppressing the rising ripple of emotion, I maintained my calm facade, pushing back against his words that struck a nerve; I swallowed hard, forcing the lump in my throat down. It fueled my determination to stand my ground.

"Very well," I replied coolly. "I'll take a stroll if you don't mind. Just exploring the surroundings, nothing more."

Junior's smirk faltered, replaced by a frown as he crossed his arms. "Is that so? I don't believe you. I'll keep watch. So you won't pull any tricks," he warned, stepping aside to let me pass. I hesitated, wary of the potential trap, but the need for space outweighed my caution. With a silent prayer for luck, I strode past him.

I wanted to be alone and think.

The sun enveloped me like a comforting embrace with its warmness as I emerged into the open air. The gentle breeze carried with it the faint scent of blooming flowers. I allowed myself to meander through the festival grounds, taking in the vibrant sights and sounds.

Laughter and chatter mingled with the melodic strains of music with the tantalizing aroma of street food. Yet, I couldn't shake the feeling of Junior's watchful gaze burning into my back. Paranoia gnawed at the edges of my mind, urging me to remain vigilant.

Think, [First Name].

My thoughts raced, a whirlwind of doubt and uncertainty swirling within me. Goku, Junior's supposed enemy, offered hope, a potential pawn in my desperate game of survival. My mind raced with possibilities.

What if my plan backfired? What if I somehow ended in the finals? What if I can't find anyone to match Junior's strength?

I weighed the risks and consequences, grappling with the uncertainty of what lay ahead. The mere thought of facing Junior that he may have found a way to defeat me filled me with a primal fear, a gnawing dread that threatened to consume me.

I wrestled with the dilemma, torn between the desire for self-preservation and the fear of facing Junior, not knowing what he planned to end me. As I settled my options, I couldn't afford to make a wrong move.

To kill Junior would be to condemn myself to a life of infamy, branded a murderer by society and begin hunted down by authorities and the issue with the government along BioThera Corporation.

To emerge victorious in the tournament would only invite unwanted attention, drawing the government's watch ever closer.

And to feign defeat, to hold back in the face of Junior's onslaught—no doubt he would kill me for fun—would risk exposing the truth of my immortality, branding me a monster in the eyes of the world.

There has to be a way. Something, anything!

I knew I couldn't afford to let my emotions cloud my judgment. I needed clarity. I passed by food stalls, the laughter of children ringing in my ears, each moment a fleeting distraction from the weight of my burdens. I forced myself to let go of my worries if only for a moment, to bask in the simple joys of the present.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans in store for me.

As I turned a corner, my path collided with that of a familiar face. The woman from the Preliminary Rounds, her black hair cascading in a neat ponytail, and her vibrant blue cheongsam. Our eyes met, a silent exchange of recognition.

Before I could utter an apology, her voice sliced through the air, sharp and accusatory, laced with pent-up anger. "It's you! You," she exclaimed, her finger jabbing in my direction with pointed accusation. My brow furrowed in confusion as she unleashed her frustration upon me; I cocked my head, struggling to comprehend the source of her ire.

"Me?"

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be preparing to face Goku instead of wandering around like an idiot? I should have been the one facing him, not you!" She spat, her words dripping with resentment.

Ah, so that was it.

It was evident the woman harbored a grudge against Goku, and our encounter in the Preliminary Rounds had only fueled her ire. I sighed inwardly as I gently deflected her pointed finger, attempting to diffuse the escalating confrontation.

"And what of it, ma'am? I'm just trying to clear my head before the match," I spoke bluntly, but my words only seemed to stoke the flames of her anger, igniting a fierce blaze in her eyes, yet a glimmer of vulnerability shone through.

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this moment? I just want to make him pay after what he did to me!" she yelled, her voice cracking with emotion and her fists clenched at her sides.

"Revenge, is it?" I replied, my words tinged with bitter understanding. Her expression softened briefly, a flicker of vulnerability crossing her features.

"I just want to knock some sense into him! After everything he's done to me, after the promise he made... He didn't even recognize me when he saw me. I just want to make him see, to make him understand the pain he's caused."

Her words struck a chord deep within me, stirring memories buried beneath the weight of my struggles. Promises. The word echoed in the recesses of my mind, dredging up memories of vows made and broken, of obligations unfulfilled. As she poured out her anguish, I couldn't help but wonder if she, like me, sought solace in the echoes of past grievances.

The longing for closure, for retribution, resonated within her words. But I pushed aside the swell of emotions, adopting a facade of indifference to shield myself from my emotions and feelings raging within. With a dismissive scoff, I attempted to offer solace in my detached manner.

"Look, I get where you're coming from, but this isn't my issue. Holding onto that anger won't do you any favors and will only consume you. Dwelling on the past won't change a thing. You have to straighten up, take a deep breath, and clear that head of yours."

My words came out cool and detached, a stark reflection of the emotional walls I had erected over years of solitude. It had been ages since I engaged in anything resembling a normal conversation, yet here I was, dispensing advice like some reluctant sage.

"If you're hell-bent on confronting Goku, then talk to him. Maybe there's a reason he didn't recognize you. Not everyone has a memory like an elephant, you know. People forget stuff all the time; it's human nature. Promises are often broken, whether intentionally or not. Sometimes shit happens, people forget, or they mess up. It's life."

Despite my usual aloof or stoic demeanor, I couldn't help but intervene, offering what morsels of advice I could muster.

"Just... try to think things through before you go charging in. A brawl ain't always the answer. I want you to take a step back, assess the situation, and approach him like a rational human being. Have a damn conversation."

The woman bristled at my blunt words, her fiery glare softened, replaced by a flicker of pain and understanding at my harsh words. She stumbled over her response, caught between indignation and begrudging acceptance of the truth.

But to my surprise, she took a deep breath, her shoulders sagging as she exhaled, a newfound calm settling over her. Her voice, once sharp with fury, softened into something more measured, tinged with uncertainty.

"Yeah, you're... right," she finally conceded. "Maybe talking to Goku wouldn't be such a bad idea."

As she spoke, a small sense of relief washed over me. Maybe she'd heed my advice and avoid unnecessary trouble. With a nod of approval, I sidestepped her, eager to distance myself from her turmoil and collect my thoughts.

But before I could make my escape, a tap on my shoulder brought me to a halt. I turned to find the woman, her expression softened, guilt evident in her eyes.

"Hey, I'm sorry for dragging you into my mess. But at least stick around while I apologize!"

Her tone held a hint of irritation, though she quickly composed herself. I fought the urge to roll my eyes, silently accepting her apology. "No worries," I muttered, my tone gruff and steady but not unkind.

"Thanks for the advice. I'm Chi-chi, by the way. And you?"

I made a mental note of her name, though I doubted I'd remember it for long. After all, I was just a passing stranger in her world. When she asked for my name in return, I hesitated for a moment.

"Just... [First Name]."

I replied, a tinge of resignation coloring my words. It had been a long time since anyone had bothered to ask my name, and I knew it was unlikely she would remember it for long. After all this, the tournament, I would retreat to the solitude of my hidden base in the woods, fading into obscurity once more.

For me, anonymity was a comfort, a shield against the world; I wanted to be forgotten, to be left alone, so no one would even hurt me or even find me. No longer being hunted down, maybe if I lived in a world without fear, I would no longer hear those voices in my mind.

Although, that was a mere fantasy. I had to accept my harsh reality, whether I like it or not.

"Well, I should probably head out now," I muttered as I edged away; she didn't pursue me, which was a relief. After all, who in their right mind would chase down a stranger? But her brief distraction did wonders for easing the weight on my mind.

With renewed determination, I set about formulating a plan, a contingency for the worst-case scenario if things took a turn for the worse with Junior. As I mulled over options, a memory sparked to life in the pits of my mind.

The Containment Wave!

But as quickly as joy bloomed, a shadow of doubt crept in. I lacked the necessary components for the technique, and my recollection of it was hazy at best. I had no vessel for containment and no ink for the marking.

Still, I refused to be deterred.

With Junior's watchful gaze lingering on me, I scanned the festival grounds, searching for a solution, drifting towards a nearby food stand where colorful drinks were displayed.

Perhaps a bottle could serve as the vessel.

I mused to myself, my mind racing with possibilities. It was a gamble, but one worth taking. But I couldn't afford to raise Junior's suspicions. So, I decided to indulge my craving for food as well, opting for a bite to eat. It was a calculated move, just buying a snack and drink; it was nothing more.

As I approached the bustling food stands, a figure caught my eye. An average-height man that was quite overweight with his black hair disheveled cascading around his face, stood in line. His attire was a sleeveless yukata adorned with black stripes, a black obi, and black wristbands.

“Darn it…” His grumble cut through the chatter of the crowd; his voice was rough, scratchy, and tinged with a tone of frustration and fatigue. His hands fumbled in his pockets, searching for a few measly money to pay for his meal. But it seemed luck was not on his side today.

I paid him little heed as I focused on the dishes displayed before me. It had been too long since I indulged in a proper meal, my diet restricted to the bare essentials of sustenance.

"Damn... I don't think I have any money left." His words were a testament to his hunger and desperation. Despite my reserved demeanor, a pang of empathy stirred within me. Beneath the veneer of detachment, I was still human.

Stepping forward, I placed my order, selecting a dish that promised to delight my senses along with a drink that was suitable to be the vessel and another named Takoyaki. With a nod to the worker, I paid for the order; it was a small gesture.

Perhaps, in this sea of competition and rivalry, I could afford to extend a helping hand to remind myself of the humanity that is hanging by a thread within me. I stepped aside, waiting patiently for the meal to be prepared.

When my meal was ready, I accepted it with gratitude, exchanging a nod of thanks with the worker before turning to face the man beside me. I offered him a container of his dish, my voice betraying a hint of monotony despite my best efforts.

"Here, I thought you might enjoy this dish. I recommend it."

He looked up, surprised, painting his chubby features. His beady, black eyes widened with curiosity and skepticism as he accepted the offering with cautious gratitude. "Why... Why did you give this to me?" His voice, rough around the edges, betrayed his confusion as he searched for an explanation behind my gesture.

"Just wanted to help. No need for anything in return. Enjoy the dish," I replied with a calm demeanor; my words tinged with sincerity. He then took the dish of Takoyaki out of its container as he examined the food; his curiosity was piqued.

It was a dish made by deep-frying dough-like slices of octopus into small balls, which were then sprinkled with a sweet and savory sauce. The savory aroma teased his senses, drawing him in. With a hesitant glance in my direction, he took the first bite, savoring the burst of flavors that danced upon his palate.

I watched silently, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips behind my facemask as he savored the dish. With a small, imperceptible sigh, I turned to leave, knowing he enjoyed the food I had ordered for him. As I walked away, the weight of his gaze lingered on my back, but I decided to ignore it.

Making my way behind a nearby building, I retrieved the food container from my bag; my fingers lifted the lid of the food container. I removed my facemask, relishing the cool caress of the breeze against my skin as the captivating aroma of the dish enveloped me.

It was a moment of simple pleasure taking the first bite; I savored the familiar taste, finding solace in the familiar flavors. But my moment of comfort was short-lived, shattered by the booming announcement that echoed across the festival grounds.

“Tien emerges victorious and advances to the semi-finals! Next up, we have an exciting match between Goku, who nearly won the last championship, and a mysterious warrior known only as Anonymous!”

So much for enjoying my meal.

I hastily swallowed the last bite of my meal, the urgency of the upcoming match propelling me forward, overriding my desire for relaxation. With a quick adjustment of my face mask and hood, I hurried towards the arena, my steps quickening with each passing moment.

Junior's presence weighed heavily on my mind as I strategized. Holding back my true strength would be crucial, keeping Junior in the dark about my full potential while measuring Goku's abilities. It was a delicate balance, a tightrope walk between restraint and assertion.

As I strode into the auditorium, anticipation rippled through my veins, mixing with the steady thrum of being agitated. I felt the weight of the moment bearing down upon me and my resolve unwavering in the face of uncertainty of the outcome of this match would be.

I squared my shoulders, my chin held high, and my footsteps echoed against the polished floor as I made my way to the entrance. The sun greeted me with its warm embrace as I stepped into the arena, the sky a vast expanse of azure splendor.

The atmosphere crackled with excitement, a symphony of eager murmurs, roars, and restless shuffling from the audience. As I entered the ring, the ground beneath my feet felt solid and sure, anchoring me to the present moment.

My gaze swept over the audience, a sea of expectant faces blurred by the haze of trepidation that clouded my vision. Despite the multitude of eyes fixed upon me, I found reassurance no cameras were recording this live on TV.

Across the expanse of the arena, Goku stood, his gaze locked with mine, his eyes shimmered with purity and excitement, a stark contrast to the storm raging within my own heart. The traditional tenor drums, their rhythmic beats echoing through the arena, added to the tension that coiled in the pit of my stomach. Each thump resonated with the pounding of my heart.

In that silent exchange, I glimpsed the raw power of his spirit. The referee's voice announced the commencement of the match, a gong chimed, its metallic echoed, signaling us to begin. As the crowd erupted into a frenzy of excitement, Goku and I stood there, our minds focused and our bodies primed for action.

With every fiber of my being, I remained alert, searching for any sign of weakness in my opponent's stance. But Goku kept his defenses tight. For moments that stretched into eternity, we remained locked in a silent standoff, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

During our silent standoff, I felt Junior's presence looming in the shadows, a silent observer of our impending clash, feeling the weight of Junior and Goku's gaze, I couldn't afford to hesitate. I needed to determine Goku's power and find a weakness to exploit.

I had to treat this battle fairly as much as I could.

Let’s get this over with.

•◉◒☆◒◉•

Finished: April 03, 2024

PREVIOUS CHAPTER: 002 | 𝑩𝑬𝑻𝑹𝑨𝒀𝑨𝑳𝑺 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑾𝑨𝑲𝑬𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 NEXT CHAPTER: 004 | 𝑬𝑷𝑰𝑷𝑯𝑨𝑵𝒀

LINK TO THE BOOK [WATTPAD]: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 — 𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚗 𝙱𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 If you're interested in stories like these, here is my 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

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