Vegeta turned to look at Emma, his brow furrowing deeply.
Her white clothes fluttered, and brown curls spilled down her back. Her delicate, flawless skin gleamed like white jade in the sunlight, her entire body radiating an intellectual beauty. That terrifying woman who had once asked him for directions was actually here too.
She was also an expert.
Vegeta swallowed, then asked with difficulty, "Are you here to compete in the World Martial Arts Tournament too?"
"No. Aside from Bulla and Lazuli, everyone else is just here as spectators." Roland shook his head. "A tournament at this level won't help us much, so there's no need for us to personally take the stage."
If Android 18 had not been after the prize money, she would not have entered either.
Vegeta nodded bitterly. "True. Your strength has long since surpassed imagination."
Whether he admitted it or not, Roland and the others were stronger than him. But Vegeta was not stupid enough to make Roland and Sephiria his targets, because that was simply unrealistic. Vegeta knew the gap between himself and the group from Planet Sadala. They were not even on the same dimension.
What mattered was knowing oneself and choosing the right goal to strive toward. Only then would it have meaning.
Chasing blindly would only end in crushing defeat.
His goal only needed to be Kakarot.
His gaze shifted to Goku, and when he saw that the other man was also brimming with fighting spirit, Vegeta's expression turned serious, his eyes immediately becoming firm. After that, he bid farewell to Roland and the others, took Buli with him, and headed toward the tournament's inner venue—the Martial Arts Arena.
Buli's gaze lingered on Sephiria, a trace of confusion in her eyes.
She felt as if she had seen this woman somewhere