Wait, I'm Just a Fake Taoist, and I've Landed in Dragon Ball?!

On the soil of Planet Namek, Goku lay on the ground, on the brink of death, his breath faint. Frieza’s silver-white body gleamed with a cold light. He looked down at Goku, a contemptuous smile on his lips. Leaning on his peachwood sword, Li San forced himself to stand upright. His Taoist robe was dusty, and cold sweat soaked his back, yet he deliberately wore a disdainful grin as he walked up to Frieza: “Frieza, ruler of the universe?” Frieza glanced at Li San, his voice icy: “Heh heh heh. You’re a nobody, yet you dare approach me?” Li San curled his lips, his voice tense: “Tsk, tsk. You don’t seem all that evil. How many people have you killed?” Frieza froze and said nothing. Li San swallowed, then continued to feign calm: “No answer? Then do you know how many demons I’ve slain?” He silently recited an incantation. His hand trembled slightly as he gripped the peachwood sword, and he shouted: “Come forth, spirit banner!” A pitch-black soul-summoning banner shot up from behind him, whipping in the wind. Frieza’s pupils contracted, the contempt on his face instantly replaced by shock. “You pale-skinned freak, do I look like a man or a god to you?”