"Not interested." Jiren rejected him without a flicker.
I wouldn't even take the God of Destruction job—now you want me to be a Supreme Kai?
Merus: "…"
Ken wasn't surprised in the least.
By Ken's reckoning, if anyone in Universe 11 were to be picked as the trainee God of Destruction, it should have been Jiren. But Jiren had no interest in the throne. What he pursued was absolute justice, and to him a God of Destruction was not a god of justice.
His greatest wish, too, was to revive his master, Gicchin. Unfortunately, Gicchin was slain by demons and his soul erased—something even angels couldn't undo.
"If that's why you're here, please leave. Don't disturb my training," Jiren said, closing the door on them and turning away.
Merus: "…"
He was genuinely speechless.
That was… fast. Couldn't you at least hear me out?
"Please, Mr. Jiren—just listen," Merus called after him.
For an angel, this was the most awkward moment of his career. When he'd gone undercover before, people brushing him off was one thing. But this? Was Marcarita really that lacking in clout here? Even her little brother couldn't get a word in?
With a flicker, Merus slipped straight into the courtyard.
Ken: "…"
Going in hard now? Bold move for a trainee angel. Maybe get to know the man before pitching him?
Jiren felt a headache coming on at the uninvited guest.
"I refused the God of Destruction invitation to be his disciple. Supreme Kai interests me even less," he said again, firm as stone. "Go back. Don't waste your time on me."
"Then let me at least explain. Supreme Kai and a God of Destruction aren't the same. How much do you actually know about Supreme Kais?" Merus asked.
"I don't. I don't care to. I've only heard the name," Jiren said coolly, stepping inside.
"Then I'll keep it simple—Supreme Kais are creator gods, the ones who—hey, don't shut the—could you just let me finish a sent—" Merus trailed off as the door clicked shut.
He felt like the ground had vanished beneath his feet.
"Merus, you're hopeless with people. What did you even learn at the Galactic Patrol?" Ken drifted down into the yard and sighed toward the door.
Merus held his tongue and tasted adversity. Inviting a man to become a god and getting turned down flat—what was the world coming to?
After ten stunned seconds he managed, "That… was unexpected. I didn't think there were mortals who weren't interested in becoming gods."
Ken fell thoughtful. Jiren wasn't interested in being Supreme Kai; Goku wouldn't be, either. The difference was that Goku was still a kid—he could be guided. Jiren was grown; the odds were slim.
Ken did have one angle to try, though. If that didn't work, it really was a dead end.
"Giving up?" Ken grinned.
"No," Merus said, shaking his head. "I won't."
"How long do you need?" Ken asked.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Merus blinked.
"We agreed: if you can't persuade him, I get a shot. If he says yes, well… tough break for you," Ken said, entirely too cheerful.
Merus: "…"
"Fine. Give me three days. If he still refuses, I'll drop it," Merus decided.
"Deal," Ken nodded.
Let's see if you can crack Jiren.
…
Universe 9, on a certain world.
A lavish open-air round table groaned under a mountain of dishes—and mountains of chocolate.
Broly was tucking in with gusto. Majin Buu was shoving block after block of chocolate into his mouth until his cheeks bulged.
Sidra and Mule sipped and chatted to the side. At least thirty attendants hovered nearby—one even wore a crown; apparently the planet's king, personally waiting on Sidra without a hint of complaint, practically groveling.
"See, Broly, Buu?" Sidra said, smiling at them. "For a God of Destruction, even a planet's ruler bows and scrapes. Their lives are literally in our hands."
Beside him, the android girl cozied up to pour for him, taking dainty sips of motor oil.
Broly ate with both hands; chopsticks were too slow. Buu, not to be outdone, crammed chocolate faster and faster. Sidra's words drifted past both of them like a breeze.
"When do we make a move?" Mule finally muttered, unable to hold it back.
"No rush," Sidra said softly. "We've known them for less than a day. Only when they relax and see us as friends can we coax anything out of them. I get how you feel, but if impatience blows this, we're done."
"I know. I'm not in a hurry. Muse has already reincarnated… I just need the killer," Mule said, face dark.
"Trust my process." Sidra rapped him lightly on the head, smiling. "If you're convinced it was those two, we'll get answers. First, build the rapport. Don't forget—they each have an angel behind them."
"The Grand Priest said it himself: as long as I have proof, he won't interfere with what I do," Mule whispered.
"He did. But if that human angel and the trainee angel find out, you think it'll be 'no big deal' then?" Sidra snorted, then tipped his chin at Broly's wrist. "Look closely at that watch."
"His… watch?" Mule blinked.
"You don't miss much, do you," Sidra teased. "From the moment I met them, that watch was on Ken's wrist. Now it's on Broly. Why?"
"They're close?" Mule guessed.
"Obviously. And Ken putting that watch on Broly screams, 'Don't bully him,'" Sidra said, a smile tugging at his mouth. He had a knack for people.
"So what if we do? He's just a human angel. He's not even as strong as Merus," Mule sneered. "That kind of guy, a future angel? Please. Maybe his 'angel power' is just a flash in the pan."
"He's not strong yet, but remember how old he is? Five, right? And Broly's five, too?" Sidra sighed.
"Maybe their species matures early," Mule said.
"Either way, step one is getting close. When they let down their guard, there are a dozen ways to get them talking," Sidra said, eyes gleaming. He flicked a glance at the wine.
Mule understood, picked up a bottle, and strolled to Broly and Buu.
The table was huge; none of his earlier talk had carried.
"Broly, Buu—just eating is boring, isn't it? Drink a little," Mule said, setting the bottle down.
"Not interested," Buu said, shaking his head.
"Kids can't drink," Broly added.
Mule: "…"
"You're already a trainee God of Destruction. Still a 'kid'?" Mule grumbled.
"Even if I become the strongest god in the universe, a kid is still a kid," Broly said, full of conviction.
"…Suit yourself," Mule muttered, heading back.
He shrugged at Sidra.
"No hurry. We're just getting started," Sidra said, unbothered.
"You're right. It's day one," Mule nodded.
…
Universe 6, Planet Champa.
In his castle, Champa quietly opened the Sunflower Manual and brooded over the text. Then he shook his head.
"Nope. The more I look, the more it feels like a trap waiting for me. I'm not falling for it," he snorted, raising a palmful of violet-red destruction energy to erase the book.
But he stopped.
What if it's real?
The book's mantra had a ring to it: Of all martial ways, speed breaks all. His bout with Ken and Broly had made it obvious—they were absurdly fast. No human should move like that.
And they were five. Not even six yet.
One had cultivated angelic power. The other had monstrous energy and had been chosen as the Eighteenth Universe's new God of Destruction.
Maybe the book really worked.
But training it himself… he didn't have the nerve.
Test subject first? …Not Hit. Someone else.
Another God of Destruction.
A weaker one would show clearer gains. The weakest… Mosco?
Right. And inside Mosco sat that little guy—Mule.
Let him train the Sunflower Manual. Perfect.
Champa's eyes lit up. He immediately pinged Mule in Universe 9.
Mule, mid-chat with Sidra, fished out his comm and blinked at the caller ID.
Champa? What does he want?
"It's Champa," he showed Sidra.
"Take it. Maybe it's something," Sidra shrugged.
"Mosco, busy? Don't 'beep-boop' at me—I don't speak robot," Champa's voice crackled through.
"I'm out of Mosco's body… drinking with Sidra in Universe 9," Mule said.
"With that old coot?" Champa huffed.
"Watch your mouth, fat cat," Sidra scowled.
"What do you want?" Mule asked.
"Forget it. Nothing. Really nothing. Bye," Champa said—and hung up.
Mule: "…"
That's not "nothing."
Both comms were on speaker, so even Broly and Buu heard every word—though they were too busy eating to care. Sidra and Mule didn't notice the tiny shift in Broly's eyes when Champa's voice came on… before his face went calm again. He'd recognized the voice.
"Mule, he clearly wants a private word. Call him back," Sidra said. "I'm not interested—go take it over there."
"Right," Mule nodded, stepping away to dial.
Champa picked up; Mule said he was alone.
"It's not a big deal. I stumbled on a divine training manual. Want to try it?" Champa chuckled.
"A divine manual?" Mule blinked.
"Of all martial ways, speed breaks all. Even Ultra Instinct means nothing before absolute speed, right?" Champa said. "Tell me I'm wrong."
"You're not," Mule admitted. If you push speed to the limit, can Ultra Instinct really evade you?
"That line's from your manual?" Mule asked.
"And another thing—keep this to yourself," Champa lowered his voice. "You know those two brats, Ken and Broly?"
Mule said nothing. Of course he knew. Broly was right next to him.
"They got where they are because they trained this manual first—built the foundation, then skyrocketed," Champa said, selling it hard.
"Seriously?" Mule's eyes widened.
"Think about it. They're five. I know Saiyans. We've got them in Universe 6. There isn't a single five-year-old who could reach their level. Honestly, not even grown Saiyans—not even their king—could match them now," Champa huffed.
"So it was the manual," Mule breathed. The explanation fit. Two kids of the same race, close in age, both freakishly strong? It didn't add up—unless there was a secret method.
"Let me see it," Mule said, unable to hide the eagerness.
"I'm not your charity. Trade me something," Champa snickered.
"What do you want?" Mule asked.
"I'll think on it," Champa said.
Mule: "…"
"But we're on decent terms, so I'll let you preview it," Champa added.
"You're just scared to practice it yourself and want me as your guinea pig," Mule said dryly.
"Do whatever you want," Champa sniffed. "I'm sending it."
"Open a private transfer. No rules against it," Mule said.
"Done," Champa replied.
With a wave from afar, Champa tossed the Sunflower Manual through the link. A heartbeat later, it landed in Mule's hands. He snatched it out of the air and stared down at the cover.
[End of Chapter]
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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