"HAA!"
Goku didn't wait for a countdown.
He launched himself forward like a bullet.
Yamcha met him head-on.
"Roga Fufuken!"
The two fighters crashed together, moving too fast to follow.
The air cracked with the sound of fist meeting forearm.
BOOM
Yamcha unleashed a flurry of claw strikes, his hands was moving so fast they looked like multiple limbs.
But Goku was matching him blow for blow.
Pop.
Pop.
Pop.
Wham.
Goku spun, rolling under Yamcha's next swing.
His fists darted out, striking at Yamcha's midsection.
Yamcha jumped back, narrowly avoiding the hits, then lunged forward, sweeping low.
Goku leapt, somersaulting over the sweep, and landed lightly on his feet.
Both paused for a heartbeat.
Chests heaving, eyes locked.
Then they moved again.
Yamcha feinted left, then struck right, aiming for Goku's shoulder.
Goku shifted his weight, letting the blow glance past, and countered with a spinning back fist.
CLANG.
Yamcha blocked with his forearm, gritting his teeth.
They circled each other, testing distance, watching for an opening.
Goku feinted a punch, then kicked low.
Yamcha caught the leg, twisting, but Goku rolled free, flipping to his feet.
He's reading my fighting style?!
Yamcha's eyes widened in shock as he fought to maintain his offense.
Back at the camp, I could track him easily. But now he's moving faster than me! Was he really that weak from hunger before?
Goku surged forward, unleashing a rapid series of strikes that kept Yamcha on the defensive.
"Ngh!"
He's overwhelming me!
Desperate to break the deadlock and regain the spacing he needed for his Roga Fufuken, Yamcha pivoted on his heel.
He launched a high roundhouse kick aimed directly at Goku's head.
Goku ducked under the boot with mere inches to spare, stepping inside Yamcha's guard.
"Here's one for you!"
Goku drove a brutal straight right cross directly into Yamcha's face.
CRACK.
"OHHH!"
Yamcha's head snapped back violently, his feet leaving the ground.
The Scrapper King flew backward, skidding across the sand before crashing onto his back.
He scrambled to his knees, shaking his head to clear the ringing in his ears.
He coughed, spitting a glob of blood onto the white sand.
There, in the center of the red splatter, sat a single, white tooth.
Yamcha stared at the bloody tooth in the sand.
He touched his tongue to the gap in his gum, tasting the blood.
"You..." Yamcha growled, rising slowly to his feet.
"I'm going to kill you for that."
Goku shifted his weight, settling back into his battle stance.
"ROGA FUFUKEN, SWIFT FANG!"
Yamcha blurred.
To the average spectator, he simply vanished from the spot.
Goku's ears twitched.
He didn't look with his eyes, he felt the shift in the air pressure.
Swish.
Goku snapped his left arm up, blocking a lethal claw strike aimed directly at his throat.
Yamcha materialized out of thin air to Goku's right, his fingers hooked like talons.
Yamcha didn't stop.
He backflipped away, creating distance.
"I'm not done! ROGA FUFUKEN, PACK FURY!"
Yamcha lunged once more, swinging with a wild, relentless flurry.
His fists cut through the air in broad arcs, like a wolf raking its claws.
The wind whistled around them with each strike.
Whap.
Whap.
Whap.
Whap.
Goku stood firm in the center of the storm.
His defense was impenetrable.
He parried, blocked, and swayed.
Yamcha was pouring every ounce of his strength into the assault, but Goku was a stone wall.
Every strike met a forearm or a palm.
"Why won't you fall?!" Yamcha screamed.
He realized his fists weren't enough.
Yamcha reached to his hip.
SHING.
The scimitar flashed.
"DIE!"
He slashed wildly, the heavy curved blade singing through the air, aiming to cleave Goku in two.
Goku's expression tightened.
He began to weave, dodging the razor-sharp steel by millimeters. A horizontal slash passed just over his nose; a vertical chop missed his shoulder by a hair's breadth.
Oolong covered his eyes with his ears again, peeking out through a tiny slit.
"He can't dodge forever! One slip up and he's... he's gonna be sliced! I can't look!"
In the arena, the air was singing with the deadly whoosh of Yamcha's blade.
"Stand still and die!" Yamcha roared, his eyes bloodshot with rage.
He saw an opening.
Goku had stepped back onto a patch of loose sand.
Yamcha gripped the hilt of his scimitar with both hands, raised it high above his head, and brought it down with enough force to cleave a boulder in two.
Goku didn't dodge this time.
His hand shot over his shoulder.
CLANG!
Sparks flew in a shower of orange and white.
Yamcha's eyes bulged.
His sword hadn't hit flesh.
Goku stood firmly in place, holding his Nyoibo horizontally above his head.
The sharp edge of Yamcha's scimitar was pressed against the wood, trembling with the force of the blow, but it hadn't made even a dent.
"What?!" Yamcha gasped, pushing down with all his weight.
He looked from his blade to the red pole, and then to Goku's determined face.
"Impossible! That... that's just a piece of wood! How did it stop my steel?!"
Goku shoved the scimitar aside with a sharp twist of his wrist, forcing Yamcha to stumble back a few paces.
Goku twirled the Nyoibo in his hand, settling it under his arm.
"That's not fair, if you're gonna use a sword to try and cut me, then I'm gonna use the Nyoibo to beat you!"
Yamcha regained his balance, gripping his sword tight, sweat beading on his forehead.
He eyed the red stick warily. It was just wood, but it had blocked steel.
"You think a stick makes a difference?"
Goku planted his feet and aimed the staff directly at Yamcha's chest.
"Nyoibo... EXTEND!"
Yamcha blinked, confusion washing over his face.
"Nyoibo wha—"
THWACK.
The red staff elongated with the speed of a bullet.
The blunt end drove squarely into Yamcha's stomach, burying itself deep in his gut.
"UGHH!"
Yamcha's feet left the ground.
He was lifted into the air, riding the extending pole all the way across the arena.
He flew past the center line, until...
CLANG!
The Nyoibo slammed Yamcha hard against the solid wall of the pit, pinning him there like a butterfly on a mounting board.
"Oof..."
Yamcha groaned, the wind completely knocked out of him. The sword slipped from his fingers and clattered to the sand below.
Zip.
The pole retracted instantly, returning to Goku's hand.
Yamcha slid down the wall, landing on his knees, clutching his stomach.
The arena went quiet again, but this time, it wasn't the silence of awe.
It was the silence of fear.
High above, Dimcha leaned over the railing, his face pale. He tapped the microphone frantically.
"Oi... Yamcha?" Dimcha's voice wavered, echoing awkwardly through the speakers.
"Come on, son... quit playin' around! You're scarein' the folks! Get up and smash the kid! He... he's actually beating you!"
The crowd shifted uneasily.
They looked at each other, then at their King on his knees.
The invincible Yamcha was being dismantled by a child. For the first time, the bloodthirsty mob looked unsure of who was going to make it out of the pit alive.
Yamcha forced himself off the wall, his boots sliding in the sand.
He clutched his bruised stomach.
"I will not... I will not let a child make a fool of me in my own arena!"
He looked down at the scimitar lying in the sand near his feet.
He didn't pick it up, he kicked it away. The blade skittered across the floor, clattering uselessly against the far wall.
"I don't need my blade to kill you." Yamcha spat.
He began to walk toward Goku.
His steps were heavy, fueled by spite.
Goku stood his ground, resting the Power Pole on his shoulder.
He watched the bandit leader approach.
"Man... you're really tough!" Goku said, nodding his head.
"Your strength..."
Yamcha stopped ten feet away, glaring at the boy with eyes that burned with madness.
"It makes no sense. You're a freak."
Yamcha clenched his fists hard.
He lowered his stance again, but this time it wasn't the disciplined pose.
"But I cannot fail. Not here... not today. I will defeat you. And when you are broken and bleeding in the dirt..."
He raised a trembling finger and pointed past Goku, at Bulma and Oolong.
"...I'm going to walk over there, and I am going to butcher that pig."
Oolong let out a high pitched squeal and scrambled behind Bulma's legs, using her as a human shield. He peeked out, trembling violently.
Goku, however, didn't flinch.
He just looked at Yamcha with curiosity, tilting his head to the side.
"Hey. What's your deal with Oolong, anyway? I remember Oolong telling me he ran away with the dragon ball because some guy named Mugicha told him to get it. He was just following orders, right?"
Yamcha froze, his eyes narrowing into slits.
"Mugicha... Mugicha is my brother."
"Oh, really?"
Goku blinked, then nodded as if he had solved a math problem.
"Well, if it was your brother who asked for this and caused all the trouble, then I'm pretty sure he wouldn't want the dragon balls in your hands. Even if you're his brother, that makes you the bad guy, right?"
...
...
"SHUT UP!" Yamcha screamed.
He launched himself at Goku, screaming in incoherent rage.
"RAAAH!"
Goku stood ready.
As Yamcha closed the distance, Goku threw a punch.
Yamcha threw a punch.
Their fists collided in the center, but Yamcha didn't stop.
"ROGA FUFUKEN, CRESCENT RIP!"
Yamcha unleashed a barrage of tearing claw strikes, aiming to shred Goku's defense.
Goku blocked left, parried right, and dodged a swipe to the eyes.
"RAAAAAAAAAAHH!"
Yamcha poured his soul into the attack, but Goku saw every move before it happened.
Goku swept his arms upward, knocking both of Yamcha's wrists high into the air.
He opened my guard completely?!
Yamcha thought, his eyes widening in horror as he stared at his own defenseless chest.
Even after taking all those attacks... he's perfectly calm!
Goku didn't waste the opening.
He jumped in and drove a clean, hard punch straight into Yamcha's jaw.
POW.
"Gaah!"
And for the second time, Yamcha hit the sand, sliding across the sand on his back.
But he didn't stay down.
Fueled by humiliation, Yamcha scrambled to his feet instantly.
He wiped a streak of blood from his chin.
"NO!"
He charged again, but the technique was gone.
The deadly Roga Fufuken had devolved into a sloppy, angry brawl.
He threw haymaker after haymaker, swinging wildly at Goku's head.
Whoosh.
Whoosh.
Goku didn't even raise his hands.
He simply weaved his head left and right, dodging the furious punches with minimal effort, watching Yamcha unravel before his eyes.
"ROGA FUFUKEN, SWIRLING WOLF!"
Yamcha lunged, grabbing Goku by the sash of his gi and spinning violently on his heel.
He became a human tornado, before releasing his grip and launching the boy straight up into the air.
"Whoa-oa-oa-oa!"
Goku spun like a top as he ascended, his limbs flailing.
He looked like a helicopter rotor.
I'm gettin' diizzyyy!
But as he reached the apex of the throw, the spinning stopped instantly.
Goku shook his head, regained his bearings in a split second, and locked his eyes on Yamcha.
He flipped his body downward, diving headfirst like a hawk.
Yamcha, who was panting heavily and expecting the boy to crash-land, looked up and froze.
His jaw dropped.
What?! He controlled the spin?!
Goku plummeted toward him, his fist pulled back, a grin plastered on his face.
He started the chant that Grandpa Gohan had taught him.
"JAN... KEN..."
Yamcha scrambled to raise a guard, panic flashing in his eyes.
"PO!"
Goku's fist, hard as rock, connected squarely with Yamcha's cheekbone.
The impact rippled through Yamcha's face, sending a shockwave of spit and sweat flying.
For the third time, the King of the Scrappers was sent hurtling through the air.
He tumbled uncontrollably across the sand, bouncing once, twice, before skidding to a halt near the edge of the pit, looking up at the stars with glazed eyes.
Goku landed softly on the sand and began to walk toward the fallen Yamcha.
He didn't rush.
He walked with the casual confidence of someone who knew the fight was already decided.
"You're strong, but you're not fighting like you did before. You're all messy now."
He stopped a few feet away, looking down at Yamcha with a serious expression.
"The anger is making you sloppy."
Yamcha grit his teeth.
He placed his hands on the sand and pushed himself up. His arms were trembling violently.
He stood on shaky legs, favoring his left side, his breath coming in ragged, wet gasps.
"Shut up... I'm not going to listen to a sermon... from a damn brat!"
He refused to accept reality.
He refused to lose here.
"I just need to land one clean hit! Just one!"
He drew a deep, shuddering breath and screamed, forcing his exhausted body into one last, explosive motion.
"ROGA FUFUK—"
THUD.
The scream was cut short instantly.
Goku hadn't even taken a step.
He had simply lashed out with a single jab, driving his fist deep into Yamcha's stomach.
Yamcha's eyes bulged, almost popping out of his skull.
He froze in place, the air trapped in his lungs.
He stumbled backward, one step, two steps, clutching his midsection.
"Gah... hack!"
Yamcha doubled over and retched, vomiting blood onto the white sand.
He swayed on his feet, looking at Goku.
"Look at him!" Oolong squealed, his terror instantly replaced by a surge of bravado.
"Yamcha is being completely humiliated! The big bad wolf is getting taken to the pound! He looks like a chump!"
Bulma didn't smile.
She just shook her head slowly.
"Goku is on a completely different level. It's like... it's like he's playing a different game entirely."