Vaske remained in a coma for ten days after the final battle for Surum.
The Saiyans were not careless enough to leave him alone. His power was rising rapidly from the Zenkai, but Ouril and Kjofi could neither sense nor scan it due to their broken scouters. All they could do was report a dangerous surge in Vaske's strength without any concrete numbers.
Two more days passed.
On the twelfth day after the battle, Vaske finally opened his eyes.
He pushed himself up from the ground, rising from the patch of grass Ouril and Kjofi had placed beneath him. The moment consciousness returned, he felt it.
His power.
It was massive—greater than anything he had ever experienced before. Roughly fifty percent higher than before his defeat.
He immediately suppressed it.
Vaske understood Zenkais. Revealing his full strength now would only raise questions. Instead, he allowed only a fraction to surface, stabilizing his battle power around six thousand two hundred.
Soon after, Ouril and Kjofi returned, carrying the corpse of a massive beast that weighed nearly three tons, its body packed with meat.
They rushed to Vaske the moment they saw him awake, bombarding him with questions about the fight and how he had survived.
Vaske did not trust them, even if they had guarded him while he was unconscious.
"I fought on instinct," he said calmly. "Found weaknesses in their barriers."
There had been no real weaknesses. Only overwhelming force had broken them. But Vaske had no intention of sharing that.
The questions continued. Vaske redirected every one of them toward eating or mission logistics. Ouril and Kjofi were not particularly sharp, and soon they followed his lead.
As they ate, they spoke about how the Saiyans had begun deploying Saibamen across the planet. The creatures were weak and unlikely to mutate here, but they were more than enough to finish off wounded fighters and slaughter civilians.
Vaske listened in silence.
His thoughts returned to the Sumurians he had already killed—and to the strange white energy that had suddenly stopped flowing into him after he defeated an elite warrior with a power level around nine thousand.
Even after killing commanders later, he had gained nothing.
It was as if he had become a sponge that could no longer absorb.
That alone was enough to make him curious.
Once they finished eating, Vaske rose despite his injuries not being fully healed.
At the entrance to their underground shelter beneath the forest, Ouril and Kjofi stepped in front of him.
"You need rest."
Vaske said nothing. He simply pushed past them.
"I still have a mission," he said coldly. "I'll clear weaker cities. You can take another one if you want. Just don't follow me. I don't like shadows."
He moved through the narrow passage and launched into the sky at extreme speed. Within moments, even if they had tried, they would not have been able to follow him.
Vaske flew toward the city with the highest remaining power signature on the planet—not impressive by any standard, merely the strongest among a dying world.
Before reaching it, he passed groups of fleeing Sumurians. He grabbed one mid-run and tore him in half.
The others screamed and scattered. Some froze in place, accepting death.
Vaske felt nothing.
He continued killing them.
Nothing came.
No white surge. No response.
It was strange.
He began forming theories, but none could be proven without more evidence. He continued eliminating the weaker ones for the sake of the mission while focusing on finding the strongest warrior hiding in the city.
When he entered the city itself, he found it vast—comparable in size to Sadala on Planet Vegeta. Yet it was empty.
All life had gathered inside a massive villa where nearly fifty thousand Sumurians were packed together.
Vaske understood immediately.
They were buying time for their children to escape through underground tunnels while they prepared to die.
He did not care.
He began attacking their barrier.
Then he noticed technology similar to a scouter and realized it could likely translate speech.
"I will spare you if you give me your ki barrier technique," Vaske said. "You have fifteen minutes to decide."
He hovered ten meters from the barrier as the Sumurians argued among themselves.
Eventually, they threw him the device. Vaske placed it on his head while they calibrated it remotely.
"So," Vaske said. "What have you decided?"
The strongest Sumurian stepped forward behind the barrier.
"We agree. But how do we know you'll keep your word?"
"You can't," Vaske replied. "But there's no reason for me to kill weaklings if you leave this planet. That's my mission."
They hesitated.
"We need certainty."
Vaske's eyes hardened.
"I swear on my pride. I will not touch you while you depart."
They nodded.
They knew what that oath meant to Saiyans.
The barrier fell.
They refused to teach him until evacuation began. Instead, they wrote the technique in their language, intending for Vaske to translate it later once he had sufficient data.
A massive ship landed in front of the villa and began loading refugees.
Once everyone except two warriors had boarded, the vessel lifted off and vanished into space.
The remaining warriors stayed behind to ensure Vaske did not attack the ship during departure.
They handed him the barrier technique, then began explaining its principles directly.
Vaske learned rapidly. Within ten hours, he had grasped the basics.
He could not stay longer. If Ouril and Kjofi began searching for him, they might discover things they were not meant to.
He told the two Sumurians to hide. He would not hunt them.
They refused.
They wished to die as warriors.
Reluctantly, Vaske agreed.
He fought them while keeping his power near theirs. They grew angry, realizing he was holding back, shouting for him to take them seriously.
Vaske did not.
He was testing the barrier.
It was far superior to crude ki defense—far more efficient, providing nearly double the protection for the same energy cost while preserving stamina.
Once he finished his testing, he killed them.
He gave them proper graves, digging with his hands and placing stones over their bodies.
He did not simply leave them in craters.
Afterward, Vaske resumed searching the planet with his senses, hunting down civilians and hiding fighters. Whether they were useless or he simply felt no reason to spare them, he ended their lives all the same.
Soon Surum was silent, aside from a few insignificant lifeforms left behind for cleanup crews.
The results were unreal.
Vaske had led the conquest.
They regrouped, reported to higher command, and forwarded everything to Cold's forces. Even a low-risk planet brought enormous profit for Saiyans. A mid-level mission like this could purchase an entire low-tier world.
Once they received confirmation that troops were inbound to prepare Surum for sale, they boarded their pods.
As Vaske entered his, he finally reflected on what he had learned.
After killing the two warriors who had trained him, Mystic White Energy had flowed into him again.
At first, he had suspected emotion. Respect. Hatred.
He tested that theory through torture.
Nothing.
Then he remembered when the energy had stopped.
After his Zenkai.
Zenkai released his dormant potential—potential gained through combat and training.
And after that boost, he had only fought those two warriors and trained with them for ten hours.
That was when the energy returned.
The conclusion formed naturally.
He was not stealing power.
He was stealing dormant potential.
And his body could only hold so much.
Once his own reserves were exhausted, absorption stopped entirely. Stolen dormant potential could not exceed his natural capacity.
He would need to grow himself before taking more from others.
There were limits.
He would have to study them.
The pod sealed shut.
Surum faded into darkness behind him.
First world erased.
Another boundary discovered.
Vaske closed his eyes and allowed himself his first real rest.