The morning sun reflected off the smooth tournament stage with a blinding glare. The sea of spectators in the stands was already submerged in a wave of fanatical noise, and the air was thick with an explosive atmosphere.
After two days of fierce competition, the final four had been decided!
"Ladies! Gentlemen! Martial artists! Thank you for your patience!"
The tournament announcer's impassioned voice boomed through the speakers, echoing throughout the venue. "The World Martial Arts Tournament, the final showdown—begins now!!"
"The first match! First up is the man who displayed overwhelming strength, crushing his opponents in the preliminaries, Whitley!!!"
Accompanied by lukewarm applause and some curious murmurs, Whitley strode calmly onto the stage. He was still wearing his black battle suit, his expression lazy, as if he were just here for a morning workout.
He slowly came to a stop and looked calmly towards the entrance.
"And his opponent, who fought his way into the semi-finals with his superb fist techniques and rich experience—King Chappa of the 'Eight-Arm Fist'!!!"
"King Chappa! King Chappa! King Chappa!"
King Chappa's entrance drew a fanatical roar from his supporters. The burly, muscular man wore a confident smile, waving to the audience as he walked onto the stage with the stride of a dragon and the gait of a tiger.
He deliberately flexed his shoulders and arms, his developed muscles bulging like coiled dragons. He assumed the opening stance of the Eight-Arm Fist, instantly creating a dense, illusory afterimage of fists in front of him, which drew another loud cheer from the crowd.
He stopped opposite Whitley, his contempt growing as he looked at the other's sleepy demeanor. He snorted disdainfully through his nose.
"Hmph! Kid! Don't think you can be arrogant in front of me, King Chappa, just because you won a few matches yesterday with some unorthodox tricks I've never seen! It's your bad luck to run into me! Your little gimmicks are nothing in the face of the true secret art of my Eight-Arm Fist!" He held his chin high, his eyes disdainful, as if victory were already in his grasp.
Whitley didn't even bother to lift an eyelid, completely uninterested in this meaningless pre-match trash talk. He didn't even change his posture, simply raising his right hand very casually, his fingers loosely curled into a fist.
The moment the referee's "Begin!" had just finished echoing!
Whitley moved!
There was no build-up, no shout, not even an obvious exertion of force!
He just, very naturally, as if swatting a fly—threw a casual punch forward!
BOOM—!!!
A dull explosion that could stop a heart, as if the air itself had been shattered by the punch! A visible white, ring-shaped shockwave violently erupted from his fist!
King Chappa, who had been boasting a second ago, had the arrogant look on his face freeze, instantly replaced by sheer terror! He didn't even see how the fist arrived, only feeling an indescribable, cataclysmic force, like a landslide or a tsunami, slam viciously into his chest!
"Ugh—!!!"
A shrill, distorted scream tore through the sky! King Chappa's burly body, as if hit head-on by a full-speed heavy truck, instantly turned into a blurry, twisted cannonball. With a shriek that ripped through the air, he shot straight towards the sky outside the ring at a terrifying speed far exceeding the sound barrier!
He was so fast he even left a white line in the sky!
In just one or two seconds, the scream and the blurry figure completely vanished over the distant horizon, leaving only a faint, dissipating white contrail and a dead silence across the entire venue.
The fanatical supporters who had been cheering for King Chappa had the smiles and cheers frozen on their faces as if someone had pressed pause. Their gaping mouths were wide enough to fit an egg! The entire arena, with its tens of thousands of spectators, was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. There was only the sound of the wind and the faint lapping of waves on the shore in the distance.
"Wow! A shooting star!" Krillin was the first to break the silence. He excitedly pointed in the direction King Chappa had disappeared, clasped his hands together, closed his eyes piously, and made a wish. "I wish to become rich overnight!"
Goku also subconsciously clasped his hands. "I wish to have meat to eat every day..."
The sight of the two little guys making wishes beside the ring seemed particularly bizarre and comical in the silent arena.
The hand of the referee holding the microphone was trembling slightly. He swallowed hard and, with all his might, suppressed the tremor in his voice. "The... the winner... is contestant Whitley!" His voice was dry, as if he had used up all his strength.
This time, there were no cheers, no applause. Only countless gazes of utter horror, as if looking at a monster, were fixed on the black-haired young man on the stage who was slowly retracting his fist, as if he had just done something trivial.
One punch! Just one punch! A semi-finalist was sent flying like trash, disappearing over the horizon! What kind of terrifying power was this?! This was completely beyond their understanding of "martial arts"!
In the afternoon, the results of the semi-final draw were announced:
First Match: Whitley vs. Jackie Chun (Master Roshi)
Second Match: Son Goku vs. Krillin
The matches were temporarily over. Whitley was about to go with Bulma to enjoy a late lunch. But Bulma gently pulled him back, pointing to Goku and Krillin not far away, who were rubbing their stomachs and looking longingly at the surrounding food stalls. "Should we take them with us? I heard from Krillin that they didn't bring much money for the tournament. And the food provided by the tournament... doesn't seem to be enough for Goku."
Whitley glanced at the two little kids, especially Krillin, who was trying to act calm but whose stomach was growling audibly. Thinking of their potential future as comrades-in-arms, he nodded indifferently. "Fine."
"Wow! Thank you so much, Bulma! And Whitley!" The moment Goku heard there was another big meal, he cheered and, pulling along a still-hesitant and embarrassed Krillin, followed them.
This time, Bulma chose a luxurious restaurant famous for its seafood. The result, naturally, was another "disaster" that made the restaurant manager and chefs question their existence.
Whitley and Goku were like two highly efficient food shredders. Wherever they went, the plates became empty at a visible rate. Lobsters, king crabs, oysters, mountains of sushi and sashimi... disappeared endlessly into their mouths.
Krillin was smarter this time. He had grabbed a large plate of his favorite food early on and was quietly working on it in a corner. Watching the "inhuman" eating speed of the other two, his understanding of "a big appetite" was once again redefined.
Under the restaurant owner's complex gaze, which was a mixture of heartache and flattery, Whitley satisfyingly put down the last giant crab shell and leisurely picked his teeth. Goku, imitating him, also rubbed his round belly and hummed happily.
Bulma swiped her card with flair to pay the bill. The long string of numbers made Krillin's eyes go wide, and he screamed internally, "It's so good to be rich! I want to be rich tooooo!"
The afternoon's semi-final matches were about to begin.
The atmosphere around the main stage was even more solemn and expectant than in the morning. The winners of the semi-finals would now be decided, and the champion of this year's tournament would finally be born!
First semi-final match: Son Goku vs. Krillin!
The two little guys engaged in a fierce duel on the huge stage! Their movements were agile, their fists and feet swift. They exchanged blows, their offense and defense shifting in a dazzling display. The solid foundation taught by Master Roshi and the results of their year of special training were vividly showcased in their exhilarating battle.
The audience was captivated, showering the two surprisingly strong children with rounds of cheers and applause.
"Go! Goku!"
"Krillin! Don't lose!"
Master Roshi, disguised as "Jackie Chun" in the audience, watched his two disciples on stage with a look of gratification. He was especially surprised when, in the heat of battle, Goku suddenly seized a fleeting opportunity to retreat and create distance.
His hands quickly came together at his waist, assuming a pose that was incredibly familiar to Master Roshi, yet completely unexpected—the opening stance of the Kamehameha!
"That... that's!" Master Roshi's pupils contracted, his eyes behind his sunglasses wide. "The Kamehameha?! Impossible! I haven't taught it to them yet! Could it be... that time at Fire Mountain?!"
He instantly remembered the time he had used it to extinguish the great fire. Could this kid have learned it just by seeing it once?!
"Ka~~me~~ha~~me~~" Goku's young but powerful voice rang out. A blue ball of light rapidly condensed in his palms, emitting an astonishing energy fluctuation!
Krillin, who had been momentarily stunned by Goku's sudden retreat, saw the familiar stance and felt the terrifying energy rushing towards him. His little face instantly turned pale! He recognized it! It was Master Roshi's ultimate technique! A huge sense of crisis enveloped him! Dodge? No time! Block? With what?!
"HAAA!!!"
With a roar from Goku, a dazzling blue energy beam, like a roaring dragon, tore through the air. With devastating power, it instantly crossed the stage and slammed into the unprepared Krillin!
"Ugh—!!!"
Krillin only had time to let out a short, piercing scream before his entire body, like a kite with its string cut, was sent flying by the violent torrent of energy. He drew a high arc through the air and crashed heavily onto the open ground outside the ring with a "boom," passing out instantly. A small crater was formed where he landed, dust flying everywhere.
The referee was also stunned by the powerful technique for a few seconds. When he came to his senses, he quickly raised his hand. "Out... out of bounds! The winner of this match is—Son Goku!!!"
"Yay! I won!" Goku jumped up excitedly, his face beaming with the joy of victory.
"WHOA—!!!" The audience erupted in a deafening roar of astonishment, offering their most enthusiastic cheers for this spectacular and powerful blow!
After a short break, the announcer's excited voice rang out again:
"Next up! Is the highly anticipated second semi-final match! The mysterious and powerful contestant Whitley, versus the experienced and inscrutable contestant, Jackie Chun!!"
Whitley and Master Roshi (as Jackie Chun) walked onto the stage at the same time.
Master Roshi had already taken off his sunglasses, revealing his old but sharp-eyed face. His expression was incredibly grave, his full attention focused on Whitley. The previous scenes were still vivid in his mind. The pressure this young man gave him even surpassed what he felt when facing King Piccolo back in the day!
Referee: "Begin—!"
Whitley did not act as casually as he had with King Chappa. Facing the God of Martial Arts, he gave him a basic level of respect.
He assumed a simple fighting stance and said in a deep voice, "Come at me, Mr. Chun."
At the same time, with a thought, he forcibly suppressed his own aura to a level similar to Master Roshi's. However, he couldn't suppress his basic attributes like physical strength and nerve reaction speed.
Master Roshi took a deep breath, knowing that probing was pointless. He let out a low shout, pushed off with his feet, and his figure instantly vanished! Fast! Like a phantom! To the ordinary spectators, they could only see a blurry afterimage rush towards Whitley!
Master Roshi instantly appeared at Whitley's side. A roundhouse kick, imbued with all his strength, whistled through the air and viciously swept towards Whitley's waist! The angle was tricky, the speed astonishing!
However, in Whitley's eyes, Master Roshi's lightning-fast strike was as slow as a slow-motion scene in a movie! Whitley didn't even need to think; his body's instinctive reaction allowed him to easily and naturally sidestep! Master Roshi's kick grazed the corner of his clothes, the airflow stirring the tips of his hair.
Undeterred by the missed strike, Master Roshi unleashed a storm of fists, palms, fingers, and kicks! Each blow contained the essence of martial arts, with tricky angles and a mix of feints and real attacks! The stage was instantly filled with flying figures and whistling fists!
But to Master Roshi's growing horror, no matter how exquisite his attacks or how fast his speed, Whitley could always, at the last possible moment, dodge with the smallest of movements, almost as if he were predicting them! Whitley hadn't even moved from his spot! His movements were fluid and natural, with an indescribable rhythm, as if he weren't fighting, but dancing an elegant dance on the stage! The few of Master Roshi's rock-shattering attacks that Whitley couldn't be bothered to dodge landed on his body like stones sinking into the sea, unable to even make him sway!
"Sigh..." Whitley sighed to himself, a huge sense of disappointment welling up in his heart. He had wanted to suppress his power and have an exhilarating, evenly matched fight with this martial arts grandmaster to experience the pure clash of techniques.
But reality was cruel. Just his body's instinctive reactions and his control over the rhythm of the fight were enough to put him in an invincible position. His opponent's attacks were full of openings in his eyes. This wasn't a fight; it was a one-sided game. He tried to stop dodging, but Master Roshi's power wasn't even enough to tickle him.
Master Roshi's shock was even greater! Sweat had already soaked the back of his shirt! He had given it his all, using all his hidden techniques! But his opponent was like an immovable mountain! Those seemingly casual dodges, each step landing in the gap of his attack's rhythm! The way his body didn't move an inch when taking a hit demonstrated his unfathomable physical strength! What kind of monster is this young man?! How strong is he?!
"It seems... the idea of having a serious fight on Earth is ultimately impossible," Whitley thought with resignation.
Master Roshi abruptly retreated several steps to create distance. A look of determination flashed in his eyes. He tore off his training gi, revealing a lean but powerful body. He quickly raised his hands in front of his chest, and a powerful and violent electrical energy began to gather around him, crackling loudly! Blue arcs of lightning leaped and flickered, illuminating his old face with a deadly seriousness!
"Kid! Be careful with this next move!!" Master Roshi's hair and beard stood on end as he roared, "THUN—DER—SHOCK—SUR—PRISE!!!"
CRACKLE—!!!
As Master Roshi thrust his palms forward, a huge net of electricity, woven from countless violent blue lightning bolts, carrying a destructive aura and a deafening thunder, instantly descended upon Whitley! The blinding electric light made all the spectators instinctively close their eyes!
"Whitley!" Bulma's heart leaped into her throat, and she couldn't help but cry out.
"Sigh!" On the stage, Whitley's clear and helpless sigh was heard again.
Just as the terrifying net of electricity was about to swallow Whitley, he moved! There were no flashy moves, no pre-attack build-up. He just, very casually, raised his right hand and gave a light wave at the overwhelming electric net.
CRACK—!!!
A crisp sound, like shattering glass! The magnificent and powerful Thunder Shock Surprise, which could melt steel, instantly disintegrated like a popped soap bubble under Whitley's light wave! The violent currents scattered like headless flies, letting out a few unwilling "hisses" before completely dissipating into the air, as if they had never existed!
The entire venue fell silent again! You could hear a pin drop!
Master Roshi remained in his thrusting pose, dumbfounded, as if turned to stone. His all-out attack... was just... gone?
Whitley slowly raised his head and looked at the stunned Master Roshi, his eyes calm and untroubled, but carrying an indifference that sent a chill down Master Roshi's spine.
"I guess I'll... get a little serious too," Whitley's voice was not loud, but it was heard clearly throughout the venue. "Be careful not to die."
Before he finished speaking, Whitley's figure vanished on the spot!
Master Roshi's vision blurred! An indescribable sense of death, as if the entire world were collapsing upon him, instantly engulfed him! He didn't even have time to react! Time seemed to stretch infinitely in that moment!
In Master Roshi's widening pupils, he seemed to see... his entire life...
Himself as a child, with Crane Hermit, practicing basics under Master Mutaito, dripping with sweat. His eyes were so pure back then, he had no idea what women were.
The despairing, terrifying figure of King Piccolo, Master Mutaito's determination as he used the Evil Containment Wave, burning his life force...
Climbing Korin Tower, seeing the cat immortal's paw handing him a Senzu Bean when he was exhausted...
The excitement of using the Kamehameha for the first time...
The embarrassment of getting a nosebleed when seeing a beautiful woman in a swimsuit...
The gratification of teaching little Goku and Krillin...
His life of over three hundred years flashed before his eyes like a revolving lantern! Crystal clear! Was this... a sign of near-death?!
BOOM—!!!!
A deafening roar snapped Master Roshi out of his reverie! The expected pain did not come! He snapped his eyes open and saw Whitley's fist stopped less than an inch from the tip of his nose!
The terrifying force of the punch had not dissipated. Instead, like an invisible giant blade, it tore through the air from Whitley's fist, rushing straight into the sky!
RRRIP—!!!
Where the force of the punch passed, the thick clouds high above, as if split by a heaven-cleaving giant axe, were instantly torn apart! A massive vacuum channel, dozens of meters wide, spanning the entire sky, appeared! Sunlight shot down through this huge "chasm," casting a magnificent pillar of light on the stage! It was as if the sky itself had been punched through!
"WHOA—!!!!!!!!"
After a brief, dead silence, there was a tidal wave of gasps and screams that could have overturned the entire Papaya Island! All the spectators stood up, staring at the gash torn in the sky, their faces filled with sheer shock and disbelief! Is this a power a human can possess?! This is a miracle!!
Master Roshi stood rigidly on the spot, cold sweat pouring down his forehead like a waterfall, the back of his training gi completely soaked. He looked at the fist that was so close to him, then up at the huge "scar" that ran through the heavens.
In that instant... he had really seen his past life! If the other had not shown mercy... he, Master Roshi... would probably never see a beautiful woman again!
Whitley slowly retracted his fist and sighed, as if he had lost all interest. Without even looking at the still-shaken Master Roshi, he turned directly to the judges' table.
His voice was not loud, but it clearly cut through the roar of the crowd: "I forfeit."
"Huh?!!" Bulma, Goku, Krillin, Master Roshi, the announcer, and even the entire audience were stunned! They even doubted if they had heard correctly!
"Contestant Whitley says he forfeits!!! ... Contestant Whitley has chosen to... forfeit?!" The announcer's initially excited voice changed its tune, and he stammered for confirmation, "Contestant Whitley! Are... are you sure?! You have the absolute advantage!"
Whitley completely ignored him. He turned, his gaze passing over the crowd and landing on the bewildered little Goku below the stage. A complex look of expectation was in his eyes.
"Keep it up, Goku," Whitley's voice carried a hint of seriousness. "You need to get stronger quickly."
After speaking, he didn't look at anyone else and walked straight off the stage to take Bulma's hand. Bulma looked at Whitley. She didn't ask him why he forfeited, nor did she ask where they were going. She just squeezed his broad, warm hand tightly in return, tilted her head up, and gave him a gentle and firm smile. "Mm, let's go."
Whitley felt the warmth and trust transmitted from her palm. He nodded and, holding Bulma's hand, ignored the still-shocked and chaotic arena behind them, ignored the confused and fanatical gazes of the audience, and, as if taking a leisurely stroll, walked towards the quiet, blue seaside at the edge of the island.
The sunlight shone on them, casting long shadows.
Behind them, the announcer's voice, as if waking from a dream, sounded through the speakers, trying to reignite the atmosphere of the arena: "Uh... due to contestant Whitley's forfeiture, the winner of this semi-final match is... contestant Jackie Chun! Next up will be the final match of this World Martial Arts Tournament! Son Goku versus Jackie Chun! The true World's Strongest is about to be born!!!"
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