Slinn—a renowned tycoon across the entire galaxy, a titan of interstellar commerce, one of Frieza's closest business partners, and the largest supplier of resources to the Frieza Force's planetary invasions and colonization efforts.
But what no one knew was… deep down, the intergalactic mogul Slinn harbored resentment toward Frieza.
Or to be more precise, his resentment was not just toward Frieza, but also toward King Cold and their kind—beings born with unimaginable power. His dissatisfaction stemmed from something primal, something deeply rooted in the psyche of all lesser beings confronted with the superiority of a higher lifeform—envy, jealousy… and fear.
Slinn's species was considered long-lived, at least by galactic standards. While nowhere near the lifespan of Frieza's race, they could still naturally live for several centuries.
Back when King Cold was rampaging through the cosmos, Slinn had already established himself as a dominant figure in the galactic underworld. His interstellar trading network and private colonial forces spanned countless corners of the galaxy. It was during King Cold's reign that he first forged ties with the Frieza Clan—ties that would grow increasingly close over the years.
For that reason, he feared this terrifying race.
And at the same time, he envied them.
Longevity.
According to King Cold, although their lineage was singular and direct, each member of their race naturally lived for over a thousand years.
Power.
Generation after generation, the Frieza Clan had produced rulers who dominated the galaxy. King Cold before, Frieza now, and even their distant ancestor Chilled—who had no interest in conquest—had roamed the stars as an undefeated space pirate.
Perfection.
Their bodies were simply superior.
They could survive in the vacuum of space. The void couldn't kill them. Cosmic radiation couldn't kill them. Pressure extremes couldn't kill them. Even absolute zero couldn't kill them. Their very existence seemed to be the handiwork of gods.
For so many years… for so many long years… Slinn had dreamed of becoming a being like Frieza—of attaining that kind of perfect existence! How he longed to grind Frieza and King Cold's repulsive faces beneath his heel, to shatter their arrogance, to trample their pride. What satisfaction that would bring!
That was why Slinn had poured vast resources into biotechnology. Yet, despite all his efforts over the years, progress was painfully slow.
Across the entire galaxy, not a single species could be found that even came close to the Frieza Clan's physiology—let alone surpassing it. The mysteries of life, the very essence of biological superiority, seemed shrouded by the will of the gods, hidden behind an impenetrable veil. Even with all the brilliant minds under his command, the breakthroughs were marginal at best.
But then, sixteen years ago—everything changed.
---
Sixteen years ago.
A relatively small, dimly lit starship streaked across the void of space, leaving a trail of white energy in its wake. Inside, standing by the viewport, was Slinn—a mountain of muscle, his physique honed through years of rigorous training. At a towering two meters, he stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing silently into the infinite abyss of space beyond. His stance was imposing, as if he were looking down upon the universe itself.
At that moment, a crew member approached—a humanoid alien dressed in a white uniform bearing the insignia of Slinn's interstellar trade conglomerate.
"How is it?" Slinn asked, his voice steady, his gaze never leaving the vast darkness outside.
"Boss, we've arrived," the crew member answered respectfully, standing beside Slinn. The sheer presence of his massive, muscle-bound employer was enough to make the subordinate's voice tremble slightly. "We're close to the location where the massive energy surge was detected—"
Before he could finish, Slinn raised a hand to cut him off. "I see it."
He still didn't turn around. His eyes remained fixed on the viewport, where fragments of what appeared to be asteroids were drifting toward them.
No… there were too many.
Too many for mere asteroid debris.
This wasn't an asteroid field. This was planetary wreckage.
---
Back in the ship's control room—
"South Galaxy, Sector GB3490-TC2231-DF1078—coordinates confirmed! South Galaxy, Sector G3490-TC2231-DF1078—coordinates confirmed!"
"Target planet—ATPX4869—has vanished. I repeat, target planet ATPX4869 has disappeared… Cause of destruction: battle between a lifeform with an energy reading exceeding one hundred million and another with a power level of one million five hundred thousand. The resulting planetary collapse was triggered by extensive structural damage, leading to total core destabilization… Probability assessment: 99%."
Aliens in white uniforms moved back and forth across the central control room of the spaceship. The massive ring-shaped display screen showed the wreckage left behind by the destruction of the magic star outside.
Slinn entered without expression, making the staff even more nervous. He fixed his gaze on the display, staring at the floating debris in the dark void of space before spitting out an order: "Search every inch! Don't miss a single drop of blood! Not a single piece of flesh! Not even a scrap of skin!"
He didn't know why that bastard Frieza had unleashed his true power—coming from the era of King Cold, Slinn knew full well the real strength of Frieza's kind. He also understood better than anyone that the lifeform detected with a power level of 1.5 million couldn't possibly have troubled Frieza, whose energy exceeded 100 million—let alone injured him.
Yet, Slinn refused to accept it!
That bastard Frieza, just like his father, King Cold, cherished every single cell in his body to an absurd degree! Over the years, Slinn had tried countless times—some even at the risk of raising Frieza's and King Cold's suspicions—but all his efforts had been in vain. He couldn't even get his hands on the tiniest scrap of their tissue! And their race was completely smooth from head to toe—not even a single hair!
So many years, and still nothing.
Genetic research had made little progress, but if he could obtain Frieza's cells as samples… Slinn sighed inwardly as he stared at the desolate expanse of space on the screen. Who could take something from Frieza that he didn't want to give? It was an impossible task.
Not just Frieza—even King Cold, who was no longer in his prime, was not someone anyone could afford to provoke.
As Slinn watched the screen, robots were deployed from the spaceship, searching the planetary wreckage for something that likely didn't even exist. His frustration was mounting when, suddenly, one of the white-uniformed aliens at the control console leaped to his feet and shouted, "We found something!!"
Slinn's heart skipped a beat. His face remained stern as he rushed forward, grabbing the alien by the collar with one hand and demanding, "What did you find?"
The worker flinched but, still visibly excited, quickly typed on the console, looking up at the ring-shaped display overhead.
The image zoomed in on a specific location amid the planetary ruins.
Slinn frowned. It was too dark—he couldn't see anything.
The worker, still held by Slinn, enlarged the image, pulling it closer and activating a beam of light from the spaceship—
"This is…?"
"Impossible…"
"How could it remain so intact after the planet's destruction?"
"Whose arm is that? What kind of species could have such a terrifying limb?"
Low murmurs of astonishment filled the room.
Slinn, however, was already breathing heavily the moment he saw the screen. His eyes widened, and his grip loosened, releasing the trembling worker. He remained frozen, staring fixedly at the image—
A severed arm, embedded in a chunk of planetary debris.