A Chess Metaphor (Taori)

"Don't dislike me, huh?" Taori responded to Imugi with some slight amusement, the fringes of his lips curling into a smirk. "Well, I've known people with far worse opinions of me, so I'll take what I can get on that front." He had saved this one's life, though that apparently didn't matter a whole lot to the traveler. He didn't doubt Imugi's skill with his own blade, of course - there was just only so far one's skill could take them against sheer, raw power like the kind Taori possessed. And Taori considered himself a decently skilled fighter in his own right, regardless of that power. He'd had to be skilled to survive as a soldier in the war, after all.

"I imagine most Saiyans you've met are a bit meaner than I am," Taori replied to Imugi's final remarks. "My friends say it's my wife's softness rubbing off on me, but... Eh. Never liked being too much of a brute myself, anyway." Imugi was just lucky none of the more militant of Saiyan soldiers stationed out here found him first, for that encounter would've almost surely ended in bloodshed, given the traveler's more standoffish nature. "Regardless, keep your head on your shoulders while you navigate Plant and you should be fine. Oh, and, if you do run into more Saibamen, careful they don't grab you and then self-destruct. It tends to hurt."

Taori turned to leave, but before he did, he added, "And if you do find yourself in Sadala and need a hand or something, just ask around for Taori and you'll probably be able to find me pretty easily." He had half a mind to drop the bombshell that he was the King of the Saiyans, but decided there was no real reason to flaunt it for the moment. If Imugi desired, they could find that out on their own fairly easily. And so, unless Imugi made a move to stop him, Taori kicked off the ground and flew back towards the Saiyan outpost, slightly amused at the curious encounter he had just had.