Is It Possible He's King Piccolo's Descendant?

Master Roshi watched Broly's indifferent expression, the corners of his mouth twitching violently.

And you say you don't like fighting?

How come I get the feeling that when you mention fighting, especially against a strong opponent like this, there's a faint glint of excitement in your eyes?

Kid, you wouldn't happen to have some hidden violent tendencies, would you?

"Still... what Broly said isn't entirely without merit..." Master Roshi forced himself to calm down and scrutinized Piccolo on the stage again. The more he looked, the more alarmed he became. "That green skin, those cold, snake-like eyes... and those pointed ears, they're indeed seventy or eighty percent similar to King Piccolo from back then! He's also wrapped his forehead tightly with a headband... Could it be a disguise to hide some feature?"

"King Piccolo? He's still alive? No way!" Bulma, overhearing their discussion, shook her head in disbelief, a look of fear on her face. "Didn't you all see him explode with your own eyes? His body was blown to pieces!"

"That's true, I saw it myself." Master Roshi stroked his beard, his expression growing heavier. "But who can say for sure what the Demon Clan is capable of? In any case, it's better to be cautious! There's also a possibility... that he's a descendant King Piccolo left behind before dying, or a new individual spawned through some method."

Master Roshi voiced his speculation thoughtfully.

The thought sent a chill even through himself.

"If that's the case... then his reason for hiding his identity and entering the tournament probably isn't simple... It's very likely he's here to take revenge on Broly!" Master Roshi shuddered.

"He'd better not have that idea." Broly finally finished his milk tea, crushed the empty cup, tossed it into a nearby trash can, then pulled out a pack of beef jerky from somewhere, tearing it open casually as he replied.

"Don't jump to conclusions yet. Let's watch his match with Krillin first! The fight should reveal more." Master Roshi suppressed his unease, nodded, and turned his focus back to the stage.

On the stage.

The battle had already begun!

Though Krillin was on guard, Piccolo's arrogance thoroughly angered him.

Krillin attacked first. His small frame spun like a nimble top, unleashing the Turtle School's refined fist and foot techniques, combined with agile footwork, launching a storm-like assault on Piccolo!

Fists and kicks whistled through the air, showcasing the fruits of his three years of hard training.

Yet, facing Krillin's all-out attack, Piccolo seemed completely at ease, even carrying a cat-and-mouse playfulness.

With simple blocks and slight body shifts, he effortlessly deflected most of Krillin's strikes.

Occasionally, he counterattacked, his speed like lightning, his power heavy as a mountain. Each time, Krillin barely escaped disaster, needing every ounce of effort to dodge or block.

To the untrained audience, the match looked intensely exciting.

The two figures flew back and forth, energy surging, drawing rounds of applause.

But to the eyes of experts like Son Goku and Tien Shinhan, the situation was clear.

Krillin had thrown everything he had, even seizing opportunities to unleash his hard-trained Kikoho, yet he still couldn't pose any real threat to that Maginia.

He was completely toyed with.

Finally, Piccolo seemed to lose patience with the game.

In a moment when Krillin's old strength had just faded and new strength hadn't yet arisen, Piccolo's form flickered, closing in at a speed too fast for the eye to track. A seemingly casual hand chop, but one carrying terrifying power, struck precisely at the side of Krillin's neck.

"Bam!"

Krillin felt an irresistible force surge through him, his vision went black, and he lost consciousness for a brief moment.

Watching Krillin, who had been easily knocked down and was struggling to sit up, Piccolo felt a slight shock. A flicker of complex emotion passed through his eyes.

This nobody, like an ant three years ago, now possessed this level of strength?

Though still pathetically weak, his rate of progress was far too fast...

That guy named Broly...

He could kill Father three years ago; he should be even stronger now, right?

But then, a piece of news Piccolo had gathered from certain channels put him somewhat at ease.

Still, he'd heard that Broly hadn't trained at all since three years ago.

Every day, he just ate, slept, and played games, completely indulging in low-grade pleasures.

A cold, confident smirk crept back onto Piccolo's lips.

So, Broly hadn't grown stronger; on the contrary, he'd likely grown weaker from laziness!

With this shift in balance, my chances of revenge have greatly increased!

First, I'll follow the plan and win the championship!

Then, when the champion steps up to give their speech, that will be the moment I, King Piccolo, tear off my disguise, announce my return to the world, and begin my great journey to unify it!

Thinking this, Piccolo felt his blood boil with barely contained excitement.

And then, right before the whole world, I'll personally torture that father-killer Broly to death!

Crush the last hope of these insignificant humans!

Let them welcome the rule of me, King Piccolo, in endless despair and fear!

"Krillin can no longer continue the match; he's surrendered! Maginia wins this bout!" The referee checked Krillin's condition, then raised the microphone and announced the result loudly, while also soothing the audience and encouraging the competitor. "Though Krillin lost, he lost with honor. His tenacious fighting spirit and superb martial arts gave us a high-level match! Let's give him a round of applause!"

"Krillin, you were great! Well fought!" Son Goku rushed onto the stage first, carefully helping the still-dizzy Krillin to his feet, a genuine smile on his face as he patted his back firmly. "Your improvement really surprised me! That guy is indeed strong; losing to him is nothing to be ashamed of!"

"Nothing we can do... the gap in strength is just too big." Krillin, supported by Son Goku, wobbled to his feet, rubbing his still-aching neck with a helpless, bitter smile. "It feels like he wasn't even trying, like he was just playing with a kid..."

"Not bad at all, Krillin!" Master Roshi looked at his youngest disciple with a gratified expression, giving an objective assessment. "He's grown into a truly outstanding martial artist!"

Broly didn't respond, just kept munching on his beef jerky as if the outcome of the match mattered less than the snack in his hand.

Blue-haired Launch, as always, stayed close by his side, occasionally pulling out a tissue to wipe the grease from the corner of his mouth or handing him a fresh drink.

The young couple—one focused on eating, the other on caring for him—looked remarkably harmonious together.