Hercule Satan and Videl

The blazing sun rose, and the eastern sky took on a blue-white hue.

As sunlight gradually spread everywhere, the white clouds were slowly dyed with a layer of cherry red, and a faint heat began to emerge in the air.

A new day had arrived. Hardworking people carried farm tools as they worked in the fields, and along the village paths, a few tractors belching black smoke occasionally clattered noisily past.

In the countryside outside East City stood a rather luxurious large house.

Hercule Satan lay bored on a recliner. On the table was the newspaper that had just been delivered. As he read the latest news, he sighed from time to time, his face drawn with worry.

Aside from reports on the follow-up measures after the Cell Games, the newspaper was filled with long-winded criticism and abuse aimed at him, practically painting him as a fraud who had deceived the world and stolen fame.

And that was still considered mild. Some television commentary programs went even further, directly calling him a schemer who spread lies to mislead the public. Some even blamed the mistakes that had occurred during the Cell Games on him.

But the Cell Games had not been something he wanted to hold.

Hercule Satan felt terribly wronged.

After the battle at the Cell Games, the good reputation he had worked so hard to build had been completely destroyed. Though he had never been a particularly famous martial artist before, he had at least made it into the qualifiers of the World Martial Arts Tournament. By opening a Martial Arts Dojo and taking in disciples, he could always get by.

But now, because of his own ignorant actions, he had become a rat everyone wanted to beat, and had no choice but to live in seclusion in