StarWaves
patreon
The Fallen Gamer 337
🕑 Added 2025-05-07 21:23:41 +0000 UTCWell… This escalated quickly
Chapter 337:
– Layla –
I casually brushed the dust off my shoulder, watching with faint amusement as Zaiko pulled himself out of the rubble. The remains of the stone pillar scattered around him, chunks tumbling off his muscular frame. His face twisted with rage, his pink skin darkening to an angry shade of red.
He locked eyes with me, panting heavily as veins bulged on his forehead. “Who the fuck are you?!” he snarled, his voice cracking with frustration. “Where the hell did you come from, and why the fuck are you trying to ruin my plans?”
I tilted my head slightly, placing one hand on my hip. “Maybe you should figure it out yourself…scrub.”
He figured it out with that one word.
Zaiko’s mouth opened and closed silently as he struggled to process what was happening. His angry expression slowly shifted to shock, then disbelief. His eyes widened dramatically, realization dawning across his face.
“What the fuck?” he hissed incredulously. “I thought only one Gamer was allowed per multiverse! How are you even here?!”
“Sorry, buddy. That’s a whole lot of nunya business.”
Zaiko’s jaw clenched visibly. His eyes flashed dangerously as his aura exploded outward again, rippling the air around him with sheer rage. His lips twisted into a hateful snarl.
“No holds barred, then!” he shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. “I’m going to fucking kill you, you bitch!”
He reached frantically into that black hole in front of him again, blatantly pulling another item from his inventory. This time, he yanked out a wicked-looking sword, black and crimson, with jagged razor-sharp edges. Probably from some other anime I didn’t immediately recognize.
Zaiko swung it toward my head in a vicious slash.
Okay, now I was pretty sure this was blatantly cheating. Weapons? Really?
I dipped my head easily to the side, effortlessly dodging the sword’s deadly arc. I shot a quick glance toward the Grand Priest, silently asking if he was seriously going to allow this shit…?
The Grand Priest simply smiled serenely back at me, utterly unbothered.
Figures. It looked like they wouldn’t disqualify Zaiko until I properly kicked his ass and tossed him from the arena. Honestly, that was already my plan anyway.
Zaiko was ranting furiously, screaming hateful obscenities as he desperately swung the sword at me over and over. I tuned him out completely, lost briefly in my own thoughts, absently dodging every strike. My lack of response clearly enraged him even further—his voice grew shrill and frantic, his slashes becoming increasingly wild and uncontrolled.
“Fucking die already!” he screamed at me, eyes bulging as he swung downward in a clumsy attempt to bisect me from shoulder to hip.
Sighing softly, I lifted my right hand, casually manifesting a purple lightspear directly into my grip. With practiced ease, I blocked his sword, the two weapons colliding with a loud ringing sound that echoed sharply through the area.
Zaiko stumbled backward, eyes wide with shock. “Nani!?” he sputtered. “Is that a fucking lightspear from DxD!?”
I didn’t bother answering him. Instead, I easily parried a few more of his desperate blows, waiting patiently for an opening that I didn’t even really need. But I was having fun. I didn’t usually get to exercise my sadistic side very often. I'm sure my niece Akeno would be proud if she found out…
Zaiko was fully panicked now, swinging the sword wildly with no real technique.
After a final parry, I stepped swiftly forward, cocking back my fist and slamming it directly into his chest. The sheer force of my punch created a satisfying crunch beneath my knuckles, Zaiko’s ribs giving way instantly as he was blasted off his feet.
He shot violently backward, streaking through the air until his back crashed brutally into the far side of the arena, shattering another massive stone structure into pieces.
I twirled the purple lightspear lazily in my hand, calmly strolling forward to finish the job. Honestly, I'd expected a bit more from another Gamer. But at least this was entertaining.
– Jiren –
Jiren grunted quietly, his feet skidding back slightly as the Saiyan named Goku from Universe 7 landed another annoyingly effective blow directly into his chest. Jiren's red-and-black Pride Trooper uniform rippled slightly from the impact, but the actual damage was minimal.
Still, he had to give the Saiyan some credit. Jiren genuinely hadn't expected anyone besides Layla to land even a single clean strike on him in this tournament.
The Saiyan warrior had been no real threat at all until just moments before, when suddenly, in a burst of silver-white light, his hair changed color completely.
This new form made Goku impossibly slippery. He dodged attacks that Jiren had expected to easily land, and effortlessly deflected punches that would normally crush an opponent. Although Goku's hits weren't powerful enough to genuinely harm Jiren, they were annoying—and rapidly increasing in frequency.
Jiren frowned, his massive fists clenched in frustration as he swung again. His powerful punches cut through the air, creating shockwaves from sheer force, but again the silver-haired Saiyan slipped around them smoothly. Every attack Jiren made seemed to slide harmlessly past Goku.
This whole experience was beginning to genuinely irritate him.
Just as he prepared another strike, a shrill, frantic scream suddenly echoed toward them from across the arena. Jiren paused mid-motion, quickly glancing over in confusion. Goku also halted his movements, following Jiren's gaze curiously.
In that instant, Jiren's teammate Zaiko came violently crashing down, hitting the ground directly between them with a loud, thunderous impact. The pink-skinned hybrid's body slammed brutally into the arena floor, forming a sizable crater in the reinforced surface. Bits of stone and dust scattered in every direction.
Bizarrely, Zaiko was clutching a large, jagged sword tightly in one trembling hand.
Jiren narrowed his eyes in silent annoyance. The fool was clearly going to get himself disqualified. Weapons were expressly forbidden, after all.
Slowly and painfully, Zaiko struggled back onto his feet, blood dripping from his mouth. His Pride Trooper uniform was shredded in multiple places, dirt and blood staining his formerly pristine clothing. He leaned heavily against the strange sword, using it as a crutch to support his weight as his knees shook beneath him.
Zaiko's eyes finally lifted, landing on Jiren. Immediately, his expression changed from dazed pain to frantic desperation.
"Jiren! You gotta help me!" Zaiko screamed desperately. He pointed back over his shoulder with one trembling finger. "This evil bitch is insane! She's going to use the wish to steal Zen-Oh's powers and make herself queen of the whole fucking multiverse!"
Beside them, Goku scratched his head in open confusion. "Huh? Wait—who exactly are you talking about?"
"Probably me," came a smooth female voice from behind them.
In a blink, Layla suddenly appeared standing casually nearby. An amused smile curving her lips as she calmly observed the battered Zaiko.
Jiren's trained eyes widened slightly. Even with his extraordinary senses, he had barely managed to track her movements just now! She was clearly holding back significantly earlier in their brief spar.
…He hadn't even realized she'd been hiding this much strength.
Jiren glanced quickly between Layla and Zaiko, clearly putting two and two together. "Zaiko is your evil target, then?" he asked Layla.
"Yep!" Layla answered cheerfully.
Zaiko sputtered indignantly, furious panic evident on his face. "What?!" he hissed incredulously. "I'm not evil, damn it! She is!"
Jiren openly scoffed at the claim. He had personally traded blows with Layla—and when two powerful warriors truly fought one another, their true nature inevitably came through clearly. Jiren had felt absolutely no evil intentions emanating from her. Quite the opposite. There had been genuine respect and honesty in the way she fought.
On the other hand, Jiren had never properly sparred with Zaiko. The pink-skinned warrior had been a last-minute addition to Universe 11's team, recommended based purely on his supposedly impressive power.
Now, seeing Zaiko desperately flail around and scream, Jiren was beginning to regret allowing him to join at all.
Goku scratched his head again, clearly still confused. He glanced uncertainly between Zaiko and Layla. "I'm really lost right now," he admitted to Layla.
Layla waved her hand dismissively, giving Goku a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it. You two can just get back to your fight. Ignore us."
"I won't be ignored!" Zaiko screamed, his voice cracking with a manic edge. "This universe was supposed to be my playground! I'm the chosen one!"
Jiren's eyes narrowed. Zaiko, apparently no longer caring about subtlety or survival, lunged recklessly forward, red-and-black blade raised, and swung directly toward Goku.
The Saiyan fighter's eyes widened in surprise, clearly caught off guard! His white hair had already turned black again.
Acting on pure instinct, Jiren stepped in front of Goku, raising his right forearm to intercept the attack. The jagged sword slammed against his arm, slicing a shallow gash into Jiren's tough skin.
Despite being just skin-deep, a sharp, searing pain erupted from the cut almost immediately!
Jiren frowned, glancing down at his arm in confusion. The flesh surrounding the small wound was already blackening, veins around it visibly darkening and spreading outward like poison.
He grimaced slightly, resisting the sudden, intense pain radiating through his muscles.
Zaiko laughed hysterically. "Hahaha! My blade is cursed to corrode and kill anyone it cuts—even a tiny scratch is enough! All of you will fucking di—" Zaiko's words abruptly ended in a strangled choking sound.
A spear of purple energy flew from Layla's outstretched hand, piercing straight through his chest. Before he could utter another sound, his entire body rapidly disintegrated into dust.
Layla didn't even spare a glance toward the pile of ashes. Instead, she swiftly stepped over toward Jiren, placing her hands gently above his festering wound. Warm golden light radiated from her palms, washing over his infected arm. Jiren felt the searing agony recede slightly, but the spreading black corrosion stubbornly remained in place, slowly inching along his veins.
"Annoying bullshit," Layla muttered irritably under her breath.
Jiren watched with mild curiosity as a pair of bracelets materialized around her slender wrists. She focused again on healing him.
This time, the soothing sensation intensified dramatically. The black rot rapidly shrank backward, fading completely as healthy skin and muscle knitted seamlessly back into place beneath her touch.
Layla sighed in relief, lowering her hands and offering Jiren a quick, satisfied nod.
"Whoa, that was really dangerous!" Goku spoke up, staring in surprise at Layla and then back toward Jiren. "Thanks for saving me there, big guy!"
Jiren sighed quietly, shaking his head. He offered Layla a silent, respectful nod of gratitude.
Turning his attention briefly toward Goku, he bowed his head slightly. "My apologies for my… teammate's… actions."
Goku waved off his apology casually. "Ah, don't worry about it!"
Before Jiren could respond, the Grand Priest's voice rang out clearly across the entire arena.
"The contestant Layla, from Universe 7, has been disqualified for killing an opponent."
"You've gotta be shitting me!" she shouted incredulously, throwing her hands up into the air.
Before she could protest further, her form shimmered and disappeared, instantly teleporting her up into the spectator seats above.
Jiren stared at the spot where she had been standing moments earlier, conflicted feelings swirling inside him. On the one hand, a powerful warrior like her being removed from the tournament significantly improved Universe 11’s odds of victory.
But Layla had been disqualified specifically for ending Zaiko's rampage—and she had healed him from Zaiko's deadly attack, likely saving his arm, if not his life.
He couldn't deny a pang of regret over how it had turned out. It didn't sit right with him. Plus he didn’t get the chance to truly face her…
"Aw, man, Layla's out? That sucks," Goku whined loudly, snapping Jiren's attention back to the Saiyan. A cheerful grin spread across Goku’s face as he dropped smoothly back into his combat stance. "Well, you ready for round two, Jiren?"
Jiren took a deep, steadying breath. He settled firmly into his own stance, muscles tensed in preparation, and offered a respectful nod toward his opponent. "Let's continue."
– Layla –
““You were supposed to beat him up more, not kill him so quickly!””
Both Zen-Ohs' voices echoed inside my mind, sounding equal parts disappointed and whiny.
I rolled my eyes hard. With a frustrated sigh, I folded my arms under my chest, leaned back in my new seat in the spectator stands, and tried to ignore their childish pouting.
Krillin and Master Roshi, sitting a short distance away, both shot me shit-eating grins—the kind that practically screamed "third one eliminated, huh?"
Oh, fuck off, guys…
…I'd seen Zaiko going for Goku with a blatantly lethal strike, and I'd simply reacted.
I hadn't even paused to consider whether the pink-skinned jackass could handle a single shot from my lightspear. Seriously, I had assumed another Gamer could at least survive one measly attack. But no—the dumbass got himself vaporized instantly.
Talk about pathetic.
[I don't think he even has the ability to bring himself back to life, either. He won't revive unless someone wastes their wish on the Super Dragon Balls for him. And that probably won't happen. Without a resurrection, his system will abandon him completely, and his soul will fall back into this multiverse's reincarnation cycle. He'll lose every memory, his sense of self—everything.]
Wow. Sucks to suck, Zaiko.
Zen-Oh pouted even harder in my head when I refused to reply or acknowledge them further. What did they expect? If they wanted more entertainment, then maybe they shouldn't have kicked me out of the tournament so quickly.
After all, I only killed a guy who'd already blatantly cheated multiple times.
—
I shifted in my seat, watching intently as the Tournament of Power barreled toward its dramatic conclusion. Now that I wasn't in the thick of things, I had to admit to myself it was pretty damn exciting to sit back and enjoy the epic battles firsthand.
Not every day I got to witness such high-level fights play out right in front of me, after all.
It turned out, things were proceeding remarkably close to what I remembered from the original show.
Well, almost. Gohan was still putting up one hell of a fight—those eyes I'd upgraded for him were clearly making a difference. He'd held his ground impressively, lasting way longer than expected, and even outlasting Vegeta, which definitely hadn't been part of canon.
Seeing the Prince of all Saiyans' disgruntled expression after getting knocked off before Gohan was amusing as hell.
Eventually, though, it all played out in the familiar way I knew it would. Jiren's overwhelming strength forced Goku, Android 17, and Frieza into a desperate three-on-one struggle. Every spectator on the edge of their seat as the final seconds ticked away. It was crazy to see Goku and Frieza cooperating, sacrificing themselves in that epic final charge just to take Jiren down.
Damn, seeing it in person was way more impressive than watching on a TV screen.
Finally, the dust settled. Android 17 stood alone in the arena. Universe 7 emerged victorious!
The Grand Priest raised his hands dramatically, the colossal Super Dragon Balls shimmering as their power surged. The huge golden dragon appeared, towering over everything.
Android 17 stepped forward calmly, looking up at the massive dragon without the slightest hint of hesitation. The dragon's booming voice echoed throughout the entire Void.
"Speak now—what is your wish?" the Dragon asked in perfect English. Which was a bit surprising.
Here it was. Time for the big, dramatic wish to restore all the erased universes. I leaned forward eagerly, already smiling, fully ready to bask in the wholesome moment—
17 took a deep breath. “…MAKE ME THE NEW OMNI-KING!”
A shocked silence swept across the arena.
Wait…what?
““Oh no!”” both Zen-Ohs' frantic voices shrieked in my head, sounding genuinely alarmed. And then I watched in shock as they both disappeared before my eyes…
My jaw dropped open slightly, my brain failing to immediately process what I'd just heard. The fuck did 17 just say? I quickly glanced around to see if anyone else was as stunned as me—sure enough, every single person was frozen, staring wide-eyed with open mouths.
What…the actual fuck?
The Grand Priest looked utterly furious. His usually composed expression twisted in a mask of raw anger, eyes blazing fiercely as he glared down at Android 17 from his hovering position above.
"You!" His voice boomed with anger, echoing sharply across the arena. Before any of us had a chance to process it, he surged forward, energy exploding around him. It was my first time seeing an Angel from Dragon Ball seriously pissed off!
But 17 just stood there calmly, eyebrows slightly raised in faint amusement, watching the Grand Priest's furious approach with absolutely zero fear. Then, casually, 17 lifted his hand and snapped his fingers.
Instantly, the Grand Priest vanished. No dramatic explosion, no scream. He was simply gone. Erased from existence entirely.
Fuck. The strongest Angel in this universe had just been deleted like he was nothing.
Beerus and Whis stared in stunned silence. Beerus was looking terrified.
Next to me, Krillin visibly paled, trembling slightly, clearly terrified. Master Roshi, Piccolo, . all the rest of our little group stood frozen, unsure how to even react.
18 especially looked shaken. "17… what have you done?" she whispered hoarsely.
Krillin gulped nervously. "S-so…what happens now?"
Android 17 rose slowly from the arena floor, gliding over to our section. His expression wasn't hostile. Just calm.
"Nothing happens," he told Krillin simply. "I don't trust Zen-Oh. They erased entire universes without a second thought. Just because they were weak. Someone like that shouldn't rule over all existence…" he said with a grimace.
Before anyone could reply, 17 snapped his fingers again. For a second, nothing seemed to happen. Then suddenly, the entire tournament area rippled and flickered. Dozens of fighters who had vanished previously began appearing all around us, gasping and looking around in confusion.
Holy shit, he'd just brought everyone back. The erased teams, their universes—everything restored in an instant!
17 exhaled slowly, looking visibly drained from the effort.
Then his eyes landed directly on me, and he gave a small, amused smirk. "I suppose I should thank you for this, Layla. I was there–hiding nearby–when you confronted that Majin. Hearing you two talk about usurping Zen-Oh gave me the idea—just in case I ended up winning."
I blinked. Well shit… That was some butterfly effect cosmic shit right there.
"Uh…" I scratched my cheek awkwardly. "Well… congrats, I guess. Just, uh…try not to become an evil supreme overlord, okay?" What else was I supposed to say?
17 snorted softly. "Relax. I'll take my new position much more seriously than those alien children ever did."
I chuckled and gave him a hesitant thumbs-up.
…And then, without warning, the entire multiversal tournament scene simply dissolved around me!
My vision blurred briefly, and suddenly I found myself back in the familiar, ominously comforting surroundings of Lady Death's throne room.
Damn. Teleported again without so much as a warning…
Lady Death herself sat upon the throne, her dark dress draped elegantly around her slender form. She rested comfortably, legs crossed casually, chin propped on her delicate hand, an amused, affectionate smile gracing her full lips.
Off to the side stood the beautiful, fiery-haired Phoenix, watching me closely with approval.
"Congratulations on a job well done, Layla," the Phoenix said smoothly, tilting her head with a small smile. "Though, admittedly, the ending was quite unexpected."
Ah. Shit. Right. Time to address that awkward little detail…
"Um…yeah," I started sheepishly, rubbing the back of my neck. "Sorry about that, honestly. The Omni-Kings kinda… ended up dying anyway."
I glanced awkwardly between Lady Death and the Phoenix, bracing myself for their disappointment.
Surprisingly, they both simply shrugged. Lady Death gave me an unconcerned smile. "It's fine, dear. He was killed and usurped by a mortal from his own universe. That's simply how these things go sometimes."
The Phoenix nodded gracefully in agreement. "Indeed. Fate takes many unpredictable turns…."
Lady Death leaned forward slightly, her lips curling into an amused grin. "Run from it, hide from it, death arrives all the same for everyone…" she said dramatically, pausing briefly before adding playfully, "Except for us, of course, my beloved."
I stared blankly at her for a moment, eyebrows raised slightly.
Did… did she just misquote Thanos at me?
I sighed heavily, shaking my head with a faint chuckle. Of course she did.
Rolling my eyes fondly, I approached the throne, stopping directly in front of Lady Death. She patted her thigh invitingly.
I couldn't resist. With a playful sigh, I climbed into her lap, settling comfortably against her as she wrapped her arms gently around my waist.
Lady Death held me securely, leaning forward slightly to whisper into my ear. "Good job killing that annoying Gamer and completing the Phoenix's task, my dear Layla," she murmured softly, her cool breath sending pleasant chills down my spine. Then, slowly and deliberately, she placed several tender, lingering kisses against the sensitive skin at the back of my neck.
Damn, I shivered beneath her touch.
The Phoenix approached us, lifting one open hand. In her open palm rested a glowing white stone. It practically radiated life itself… which made sense considering what it obviously was!
Its power felt immense.
"This is yours now, Layla," the Phoenix said.
XXX
Comments
Wesley Redfern
she needs a Bulma for a wife :D
Jeff Roy
Poor Bulma didn't get her Eternal Beauty and Youth.
