"He won't dare to cause trouble anymore." Taro said calmly as he sipped his tea.
Tsuru was silent for a moment, then sighed softly and accepted it. He no longer cared about the Great Demon King Piccolo — on Earth now, even without Taro guarding it, Piccolo could no longer act recklessly.
This truly was the martial world prosperity that their master had hoped for before passing.
And so, Taro and Tsuru reminisced.
Back in the day, whenever these two met, sparks would fly — constant arguments and disputes. After Taro took over a new body, things improved, but Tsuru still often snapped back with cold remarks. Later, unable to fully understand Taro, Tsuru's competitive spirit grew. But after two or three centuries of life's passing clouds, Tsuru now only felt admiration and no other thoughts for his senior brother Taro.
Thus, this conversation between the two brothers was unprecedentedly harmonious.
Even setting aside their status as martial masters, both were centuries-old men who had long since let go of many things.
Tsuru had once acted recklessly, helping a local tyrant commit evil deeds, and was punished by Taro—his memories sealed and sent into exile. But now, those past events were only met with a wry smile, sunk beneath the bottom of the cup, swallowed away.
They didn't discuss their own disciples nor deliberately recall the chaotic past — just chatting casually.
Their words were few but encompassed everything. It felt as if they weren't sitting in a humble room, but wandering the world — a flower, a blade of grass, a streak of clouds at sunset, a morning breeze — all could be plucked and treasured as their martial philosophy.
This was the first true exchange between the brothers since their martial arts had reached fruition, both relaxed and at ease.
"The tournament has started." Hathaway, who had been quietly watching their conversation, suddenly spoke. She tapped on a bracelet on her wrist, and a stream of light shot out, forming a rectangular air screen on one side of the square table.
"Your unpredictable realm today is no wonder... no wonder..." Tsuru sighed deeply, utterly convinced by his senior brother. Although he had long admired Taro's greatness, only now did he truly feel the overwhelming awe of looking up at a towering mountain.
Taro said nothing but raised his eyes to glance at Tsuru, then gestured toward the green air screen beside him. "Watch the matches."
---
The World's Number One Martial Arts Tournament was in full swing.
The first round was a sixteen-to-eight knockout.
Goku, Tienshinhan, Piccolo, Krillin — the top fighters from the five major regions gathered on the global stage, all impressive martial artists. After a century of preparation, even martial artists outside the Muten School possessed remarkable skills, at least above Krillin's level in the original timeline.
Each match was intense and spectacular, every punch and strike landing solidly, thrilling the audience, adrenaline pumping wildly.
In the stands, Bulma sat beside Gohan, smiling: "That little bald guy Krillin fights pretty well!"
Previously, she often ignored Krillin, teasing him as a joke. Seeing him perform so well on this grand stage, shining and cheered by the crowd, Bulma truly felt happy.
Gohan smiled. "Master has sharp insight and a touch of the Midas hand — even a rotten log can be trained into fine wood and beautiful jade..." He didn't look away, eyes fixed on the large tournament platform at the center.
"Looks like Gohan is afraid you're going to bother him later," Hathaway chuckled, as Jarvis had just cleverly cut the camera to the stands, catching Gohan flattering Bulma.
Taro shook his head and drank his tea quietly.
Tsuru stared at the masked elder on the screen — the famous direct disciple of Taro. Of course, Earth's martial artists knew this name well, Tsuru included, though they had never fought. He pondered and suddenly asked, "Who do you think is stronger, me or your disciple?"
Taro glanced at Tsuru thoughtfully and said simply, "Too bad you won't learn my Muken."
The meaning was clear.
Without Muken, Tsuru could hold his own against Gohan; but if Gohan used Muken, Tsuru would likely lose.
Tsuru said nothing, lowering his gaze as he held his tea, lost in thought.
...The matches on the air screen continued fiercely.
"Well, let us congratulate Tienshinhan for defeating Sandzō and advancing to the quarterfinals of the 21st World Martial Arts Tournament! After a brief break, the even fiercer and more exciting semifinals will begin!"
"The two direct disciples of the Muten School, a mysterious heir of the Crane School, and the enigmatic Piccolo — what sparks will fly between them? Let's wait and see!"
Because for martial artists, endurance, explosive power, and recovery were all part of their physical quality, the tournament held rounds continuously without stretching the schedule over many days.
Except for the final championship match, all fights were completed in one day.
In the fighters' rest room.
Krillin cursed, "So unlucky... running into that demon Piccolo!"
His semifinal opponent was Piccolo himself.
Krillin glanced toward a corner where Piccolo sat cross-legged, levitating with closed eyes in meditation. When Krillin looked, Piccolo opened his eyes, gave a sly smile, said something silently, and Krillin's face fell further.
"What did he say?" Goku asked curiously.
"Sigh! Old debts coming back!" Krillin regretted provoking Piccolo before. Back then, when Piccolo first descended, Krillin, having some skill, bullied him a bit.
Nobody knew how Piccolo grew so fast — not only did he bulk up as if on steroids, but his strength soared. Krillin stopped provoking him long ago and nearly never gave Piccolo a chance for retaliation until Piccolo left Muten Island.
But now, there was no escape.
"Haha, Piccolo is strong. You better be careful!" Goku laughed heartily.
Meanwhile, in another corner, Tienshinhan closed his eyes, and his third eye scanned the area. Goku stopped laughing and turned to meet Tienshinhan's gaze. Krillin faced Piccolo in the first semifinal, and Goku faced Tienshinhan in the second.
A strong opponent... but I won't lose!
Goku's fighting spirit soared, his body already excited, eager to jump into the ring and fight tens or hundreds of rounds with Tienshinhan and Piccolo.