No. 17 and No. 18 (let's still call them by these names since everyone is more familiar with them) began attacking John frantically. John was unwilling to fight back, so he could only dodge and block.
After attacking for a while, No. 17 and No. 18 realized their strikes weren't harming John at all. Moreover, John seemed unwilling to treat them as enemies, so they stopped.
No. 17 asked, "Why aren't you fighting back? Do you look down on us?"
John shook his head. "I'm not fighting back because I don't think you're truly evil. You don't have to serve the Red Ribbon Army."
"Not evil?" No. 17 couldn't help but laugh. "In all my years, this is the first time I've heard someone say we're not evil. How ironic."
John frowned. "What's so funny about that?"
No. 18 coldly interjected, "Why wouldn't it be funny? When we needed light, it abandoned us. Now that we've fallen into darkness, light wants to offer us salvation?"
John replied, "That's because you hadn't met me. If I were there, I wouldn't have let you fall into darkness—"
"Enough with your self-righteous nonsense. It makes me sick!" No. 17 cut him off and charged at John again, launching another attack.
No. 18, worried for her brother, joined in.
Fueled by anger, the two unleashed power beyond their previous limits—yet still couldn't land a single hit on John.
After a while, No. 17 and No. 18 retreated, panting heavily as they put distance between themselves and John. They stared at him in shock and fear, unable to believe how strong he was.
"Why stop attacking? I haven't even warmed up yet," John said, crossing his arms.
No. 17 demanded, "Who the hell are you? With your strength, you can't be some nobody."
John replied, "I already introduced myself. My name is John. It might be an ordinary name, but I'd like to think I'm not completely unknown."
"John… John… John." No. 17 repeated the name until it finally clicked. His eyes widened in horror. "You're the one who defeated the Great Demon King Piccolo at the martial arts tournament!"
"Glad to know I have some reputation," John admitted with a nod.
No. 18, however, sneered. "So what? Even if you beat Piccolo, does that mean you can just look down on us?"
"I'm not looking down on you," John said. "I already told you—I just think you've lost your way. You don't have to stay with the Red Ribbon Army." No way I'd actually say I look down on them now. I still want a chance with her later.
Just then, Gaka, watching from a distance, grew furious that No. 17 and No. 18 had stopped fighting John. He roared, "What the hell are you two doing?! Keep attacking!"
"Annoying." John had no sympathy for Gaka. With a flick of his finger, a searing energy beam shot out, piercing straight through his body.
Gaka collapsed to the ground, lifeless.
The sudden act shocked everyone present—No. 17, No. 18, and the Red Ribbon soldiers alike.
No. 17 yelled at John, "What the hell did you just do?! Do you even know who he was?!"
"Who? The God of Earth?" John replied dismissively. "Even if he were, he wouldn't dare act so recklessly in front of me."
Up at the Lookout, Kami—who had been watching from above—sweatdropped at John's words.
Meanwhile, No. 17 and No. 18 were speechless. They thought John was even more arrogant than they were.
To them, the Red Ribbon Army wasn't the real darkness—John was. Who the hell disrespects Kami like that? How is this guy supposed to be the good one?
Little did John know, his display of power had backfired. Instead of winning them over, his future brother-in-law and wife now saw him as the greatest evil on Earth.
The Red Ribbon soldiers finally snapped out of their shock and opened fire on John.
Civilians behind John quickly scrambled for cover.
To minimize casualties, John intercepted the RPGs and artillery shells, sending them flying back. As for bullets? He didn't even bother dodging—they couldn't even scratch his skin.
John wasn't one to take hits without retaliation. He rushed into the crowd of soldiers, effortlessly dismantling their forces.
However, he didn't kill them—just knocked them out.
Realizing their weapons were useless, the remaining soldiers dropped their guns and fled.
With the ants dealt with, John turned back—only to find No. 17 and No. 18 had escaped in the chaos.
He scratched his head. He hadn't planned on seeking out No. 18, yet fate had brought them together in this small town. Guess the heavens want us to meet.
As he prepared to chase after them, the townspeople suddenly surrounded him.
Many carried eggs, meat, fruit, and other goods—though the portions were meager.
The mayor stepped forward, bowing. "Thank you, honorable martial artist. You've saved our town from the Red Ribbon Army. These are our humble gifts of gratitude."
He held out a stack of Zeni. "Please don't think it's too little. The Red Ribbon Army has taken almost everything from us."
John looked at the pitifully small offerings. "It's fine. I didn't fight them for a reward."
"Keep the food for yourselves. I don't need it."
The mayor knew John didn't lack for anything, but he still insisted, urging the villagers to pile the gifts at John's feet.
By now, John could no longer sense No. 17 and No. 18's energy. Anxious, he tried to leave—but the mayor grabbed his arm.