"They're so fast! I can't see them! Where are they?!"
Yamcha and Krillin collided again. To the audience and the announcer, the two had become twin black shadows, constantly kicking up fierce gusts all over the arena. Waves of wind and the booming impacts of fists and kicks surged toward the stands, drawing cries of alarm from the spectators.
The audience hurriedly watched as the two black shadows flashed from the center of the arena to its corners. Occasionally, they could glimpse their bodies, but their hands and feet moved like Thousand-Armed Guanyin, striking in a blur of afterimages.
When they separated after another clash in the middle of the arena, Krillin was already drenched in sweat, panting heavily. His body ached and felt limp with exhaustion. Yamcha was breathing slightly hard as well, with sweat trickling down from his forehead.
Yamcha's technique, strength, and speed were undoubtedly superior to Krillin's, but not by enough to end the battle quickly.
Their fight could only turn into a battle of endurance, and Yamcha still held the advantage there.
Although Krillin knew he might not be Yamcha's match, he had never considered giving up. With determination in his eyes, he charged Yamcha again, deliberately slowing the speed and power of his attacks.
Yet Yamcha did not lower his guard. During his training under He-El, Yamcha had already corrected his attitude toward combat. He remained serious in battle and never let his guard down against an opponent's tactics or abilities.
The two collided once more.
This time, both the announcer and the audience could clearly see their movements and techniques. They cried out in amazement at the danger of the exchange, the force behind every punch and kick, and the martial arts moves that struck solidly home.
By now, anyone could see that