2026-03-02 12:23:24Freza landed shoulder-first on a surface that felt like cold glass. A loud thud was followed by a long groan from Qoriski, who landed right on top of a pile of files that had been sucked in with him. The room had no walls, only an eternal darkness filled with thousands of floating holographic screens, displaying wildly fluctuating galactic stock charts.
"Ow, my back... Master Freza, I swear, if we survive this, I’m claiming triple workplace accident insurance! This has officially entered the category of employee torture!" Qoriski moaned while trying to sit up, clutching his aching lower back.
"You’re lucky it’s just a backache, Qor. Look at Pak RT he’s passed out while hugging a broken piece of his broom," Freza replied as he slowly stood up. He straightened his crooked tie and brushed digital dust off his shirt sleeves.
"Good heavens... where are we now? Why is it so quiet, like a modern mass grave?" Pak RT suddenly regained consciousness, his eyes blinking as he stared at the holographic screens surrounding them.
"Welcome to the Emergency Arbitration Room, Sir. This is the place for disputes so massive they cause the central system to error out," Freza explained softly. His eyes continued to scan the surroundings, looking for any sign of a jury or mediator.
"So where’s the person in charge? Are we just supposed to watch these charts go up and down? Master Freza, I’m hungry; all the coins in my stomach came out earlier, and now it feels completely empty!" Qoriski complained.
"Quiet for a second, Qoriski. Don't you feel something strange? The gravity here is stable, but the air pressure... it’s like being in a board meeting that just decided on mass layoffs," Freza whispered.
Suddenly, a giant marble table emerged from the darkness in front of them. Behind the table sat an entity consisting only of a collection of white light in the shape of a faceless human silhouette. In front of it sat a gavel made of black diamond that radiated a cold aura.
"USER NUMBER 001-FREZA. AGENT QO-R15-KI. AND... UNREGISTERED CIVILIAN." The voice was not heard through their ears but vibrated directly inside their skulls.
"Present, Mr. Judge! Uh, or is it Mr. Director? Sorry, what should I call you so I don't get hit with a contempt of court charge?" Freza asked with a forced tone of calm.
"I AM THE SUPREME LIQUIDATOR. THE FINAL AUTHORITY BEFORE REALITY IS DELETED. YOU HAVE CREATED A RECURSIVE DEBT-LOOP THAT THREATENS THE FINANCIAL STABILITY OF THE MULTIVERSE."
"Whoa, Master Freza! See? You’re being accused of bankrupting the universe! What did I tell you? Don't play around with too many legal clauses!" Qoriski whispered in a panic, his hands trembling.
"Shh! Don't make me look guilty! Just listen to me," Freza took a step forward, staring boldly at the silhouette of light. "Permission to speak, Mr. Liquidator. I didn't create that loop alone. Your system started it by launching an invasion without a business feasibility audit. I only provided a counter-response in accordance with the civil laws you wrote yourself in the ToS on page twelve thousand!"
"YOUR DATA IS IRRELEVANT. THE ANDROMEDA CONSORTIUM HAS DECLARED BANKRUPTCY, AND EARTH 2.0 IS A RESTRUCTURING EFFORT. YOUR ACTION OF INSERTING A CHAIN-LAWSUIT VIRUS IS AN ACT OF SABOTAGE."
"Sabotase? No, that’s called asset protection!" Freza countered loudly. "How can you call it restructuring if you’re deleting our Hunters' emotions? Humans without emotions are defective products! Their market value is zero! You just intentionally destroyed the goodwill value of our planet!"
"Master, are you seriously yelling at that light?!" Qoriski’s eyes widened, ready to run if there was an explosion.
"Quiet, Qor! This is high-level negotiation!" Freza snapped. "Mr. Liquidator, listen to me. If you delete us now, the Andromeda Consortium’s debt to the citizens of Earth will never be paid. It will become an 'Uncollectible Debt' that will ruin the universe's trial balance forever. Do you want the universe's financial reports to stay in the red for eternity?"
The light entity fell silent for a moment. The black diamond gavel in its hand was slowly placed on the table. "EXPLAIN YOUR INTENT, AUDITOR."
"Simple. Stop trying to make that robotic Earth 2.0 or 3.0. Return Earth to its original condition, but with the status of a 'Company Under Supervision.' Let me and the Apocalypse Collection Office handle the operations. We will pay off those invasion debts through the proceeds of Hunter looting, which we will tax professionally. You get a steady deposit, and we get our lives back. A win-win solution, right?"
"BUT EARTH HAS BEEN DECLARED THE ORIGIN OF THE BUG. HUMANS EXPLOIT LEGAL LOOPHOLES TOO OFTEN, JUST AS YOU ARE DOING."
"That’s not a bug, that’s called creativity in negotiation!" Freza cut in quickly. "Why do you think other galaxies are boring? Because they follow the rules too strictly! You need us to keep this ecosystem dynamic!"
"Master Freza, look! The screen behind him is starting to turn yellow!" Qoriski exclaimed.
"That’s a sign he’s starting to weigh my offer," Freza whispered with satisfaction.
"But Master... if we go back to Earth, will the monsters still be there? If the monsters are gone, who are we going to collect taxes from?" asked Pak RT, who had been just listening until now.
"The monsters will still be there, Sir. But we’ll give them clear employment contracts. No more wild monsters attacking randomly. Everything has to go through the bureaucracy of the Apocalypse Collection Office. Want to attack a village? You need an IMB a Permit to Attack Buildings!" Freza answered randomly but convincingly.
"AUDITOR FREZA, YOUR OFFER CARRIES HIGH RISK. HOWEVER, THE DATA CHAOS YOU CREATED INDEED CANNOT BE RESOLVED WITH A STANDARD DELETION."
"Exactly. Hand over the new draft contract. Let me draft the points, and you just sign it over a magical stamp," Freza pulled a gold pen from his pocket the pen he had taken from the Golden Mask’s desk earlier.
"I WILL GRANT A NINETY-DAY PROBATIONARY PERIOD. IF WITHIN THREE MONTHS EARTH’S BALANCE SHEET DOES NOT SHOW A POSITIVE PROFIT, THEN I MYSELF WILL DELETE YOUR EXISTENCE FROM THE DATABASE."
"Ninety days? That’s so short, Master! Getting an ID card processed can take a month!" Qoriski protested.
"Enough, Qor. In ninety days, I’ll make Earth the most profitable company in this galaxy!" Freza looked at the Liquidator. "But there’s one more thing. I need my assistant here, Qoriski, to be promoted to 'Permanent System Employee' with full salary. Stop giving him those hell-meal coupons."
"Master... you’re actually fighting for my salary?" Qoriski’s eyes welled up, moved.
"Yeah, so you’ll stop constantly nagging me to borrow money," Freza replied shortly.
"PERMISSION GRANTED. CONSTRUCTION OF EARTH’S REALITY BEGINS AGAIN IN THREE... TWO... ONE..."
The void suddenly cracked like glass hit by a sledgehammer. A blinding white light exploded, swallowing Freza, Qoriski, and Pak RT. The sensation of falling hit them again, but this time it felt warmer.
Freza opened his eyes. He smelled exhaust fumes, the aroma of roadside fried snacks, and the noisy sound of horns at the HI Roundabout. He stood in the middle of the street, his shirt still wrinkled, but in his hand was now a shiny bronze office nameplate.
"We... we’re back in Jakarta?!" Qoriski jumped for joy, hugging a nearby utility pole. "Mbak Citra! Pak RT! We’re not going to die!"
"Look, Master Freza! Monas is still there! But why... why is there a huge LED screen at the top that says 'EARTH UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT'?" Pak RT pointed toward Monas.
"That’s a sign our work has just begun, Sir," Freza replied with a smirk. He looked toward the crowds of Hunters starting to emerge from small portals around the HI Roundabout.
"Master, look! There's a Goblin carrying shopping bags in front of Plaza Indonesia! Should we go after him?!" Qoriski was ready with his hammer handle, which had suddenly become whole again.
"Wait a minute, Qor. Look who's standing in front of the Plaza Indonesia entrance," Freza narrowed his eyes.
A woman in a very sharp black suit, holding a digital tablet, stood there checking her watch. Beside her stood two armored executioners whose levels were unreadable by Freza's system.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Freza. I am from the Galactic Central Tax Office," the woman said in a very cold voice. "We heard you have just taken over the management of Earth. We are here to conduct an initial audit of your personal wealth."
"Huh?! We just got here and we're already being audited?!" Qoriski gaped.
"Relax, Miss. I have all the records," Freza replied while reaching into his pants pocket, but his face suddenly turned pale.
"Master? What is it? Did the documents go missing?!" Qoriski asked in a panic.
Freza pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket. It wasn't the contract he had just agreed upon with the Liquidator, but a bright red billing statement with a total that made his eyes nearly pop out.
"Qoriski... Pak RT..." Freza's voice trembled.
"What is it, Master?! Don't give us a heart attack!"
"The Liquidator lied... He didn't just bring back Earth," Freza pointed to the last line on the note. "He just charged the entire operational costs of 'Heaven and Hell' for the last million years to my personal account as a reality restoration administrative f*e."
"WHAT?!" Qoriski and Pak RT screamed in unison.
At the same time, the Jakarta sky turned a deep crimson again. Instead of monsters, thousands of tax officers with black wings descended from the sky, carrying asset seizure warrants so long they draped over the skyscrapers.
"Mr. Freza, if you cannot pay the first installment within ten minutes..." the woman in the black suit raised her hand, and the executioners behind her drew their swords. "...then we will seize all of your internal organs as collateral."
Freza stared at the gold pen in his hand, then at the thousands of tax officers in the sky. He realized one thing he had missed in his audit earlier.
"Damn it... I forgot to read the footnote on the last page..."
Suddenly, a massive explosion occurred beneath their feet. The asphalt of the road split wide open, and from within emerged a figure far more terrifying than any monster they had ever faced. The creature held a giant hammer that read: DUE DATE.
Freza only had time to scream one word before the darkness struck again...
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Born From a Conceptual Collision
"Part of the battle..." Freza's voice echoed, not from a single point, but from thousands of different points, each voice carrying the nuance of his new identity, the fragmented Balancing Foundation. He felt himself floating, not in space or time, but within a chaotic conceptual void. The mirrored walls that had once imprisoned him had transformed into portals, and he was being drawn into the very core of the collision itself.The form before him was a knot of every definition and rejection. It was made of dim golden light, yet threaded with dense darkness that seemed to absorb all illumination. The figure was him, yes, but also not him. It was the manifestation of every duality he had experienced, now clashing in an eternal dance."Who... are you?" Freza projected his thoughts. Every identity within him asked the same question, each with a different inflection: the courageous one, the understanding one, the accepting one, the wondering one.The figure slowly rotated, like a vortex wi
The Mirror of Fractured Souls
Freza felt a wave of unfamiliar energy crash into him, not from the outside, but from within himself. The transparent wall created by the Wild Will now reflected more than just the definitions of "prisoner" or "rejector." It reflected him, an essence now split and multiplied, each fragment carrying a different identity while remaining intrinsically connected."What is this?" Freza murmured, his voice sounding like the echo of many people, each word fragmented and reverberating through the void.The golden blood enveloping his body now pulsed erratically, like a heart struggling to beat within a vacuum. The Boundary Pen felt heavier, not because of its mass, but because the burden of the definitions it carried had multiplied.The Wild Will, which had once whispered in triumph, now sounded startled."You... you've created reflections. Reflections of me, and reflections of your new self. What have you done to this prison?""I didn't create a prison," Freza replied, trying to reunite the
The Mirror of Fractured Souls
Freza felt a wave of unfamiliar energy crash into him, not from the outside, but from within himself. The transparent wall created by the Wild Will no longer reflected mere definitions like "prisoner" or "rejector." It reflected him, an essence now split and multiplied, each fragment carrying a different identity while remaining connected to the others."What is this?" Freza muttered, his voice sounding like the echo of many people, each word broken apart and reverberating through the void.The golden blood coating his body now pulsed erratically, like a heart struggling to beat inside empty space. The Boundary Pen felt heavier, not because of mass, but because the burden of the definitions he now carried had multiplied.The Wild Will, which had once whispered triumph, now sounded startled. "You... you created reflections. Reflections of me, and reflections of your new self. What have you done to this prison?""I didn't create a prison," Freza replied, trying to reunite the fragments
The Wall of Pure Rejection
The newly created void was not a passive emptiness. It was a conscious void, an invisible wall formed from the essence of pure rejection, now imprisoning Freza in a grip so absolute that every fiber of his soul felt frozen.The air, if there was air at all, felt like a conceptually activated vacuum.He was no longer merely a seed. The seed was now trapped inside soil that refused to grow anything.“You are a prisoner, Foundation of Balance,” the Wild Will whispered thunderously, no longer coming from outside, but from every corner of the transparent wall surrounding Freza.Its voice carried a cold triumph that pierced straight into the core of his existence.“You showed me what ‘choice’ is. And I have chosen. Chosen to create a defined nothingness.”Freza felt the golden blood in his arm pulse with a trapped rhythm, glowing dimly like a fire running out of oxygen.The Boundary Pen, fused with his hand, now felt like a burden, a tool of definition that had lost its purpose because it h
Seed at the Core of Nothingness
Freza could not answer, not because there were no words, but because the whisper now resonated through every inch of his existence, shaking the fractured core of the Balancing Foundation. That sensation of absorption was no longer a pull, but a cold penetration, embedding itself as an anomaly within absolute emptiness.Around him, there was no form, no color, not even a “where” or a “when.”This was the center of the Wild Will, the womb of pure undefined nothingness, and he now occupied it as a conceptual seed.The Boundary Pen, fused with his arm, pulsed faintly.The golden blood coating his skin no longer faded. Instead, it glowed dimly, as though it were tendrils of life sustaining that seed in soil that had never known life.The meta-potential he had created, a tiny shapeless light, flickered before him.It was an almost invisible compass in a sea of nothingness.This... this is an invasion, the Wild Will whispered again, this time not from one direction, but from all directions a
In The Undefined Womb
There was no more pulling. No more light or darkness. Only... emptiness. Absolute emptiness, so pure, so boundless, that Freza felt the core of his existence dissolving. It was not pain, but the absence of sensation, the absence of boundaries, the absence of definition. This was the essence of the Wild Will.“Welcome, Balancing Foundation,” a voiceless whisper murmured, yet it felt impossibly close, impossibly deep within him, echoing with the hollow sensation itself. “Now, feel infinite purity.”Freza could not see. Could not hear. Yet he felt its presence. A presence so vast that it surpassed the concept of “where.” It was everything that could become, yet chose to become nothing.The Boundary Pen, now fused with his arm and adorned with golden blood tattoos, pulsed softly. The blood, which should have burned, now felt cold, like morning dew resting upon nothingness. The meta-potential he had created flickered like a lone star in a sky without end, struggling to preserve its new for
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