After knocking his opponent flying with a single strike, Son Goten still had plenty of time to fly after him. He repeatedly pointed the fingers of one hand, and beams of light rained down around Yamcha, making him wish he were dead.
Yamcha had no way to defend himself. The gap in their strength left him horrified, and all he could do was keep fleeing. Son Goten, meanwhile, could send beam after beam crashing into the ground and exploding without worrying about running out of energy.
Yamcha had recently learned a new technique. Though he hadn't mastered the Hole Hole Wave for long, he felt he'd found a new path: firing it instantly.
He'd hoped to show off a fighting ability unlike anything he'd displayed before at this tournament. If he could beat this little kid, he'd win Bulma's favor. But the difference in their Combat Power was simply too great. He had no way to fight back.
Flashes of light filled the arena, nearly blasting it to pieces. Cracks and fragments from the explosions covered the ground. The audience nearby suffered too; the flying debris was enough to leave them bloodied, but they were incredibly excited.
They cheered and shouted nonstop. As expected, all the strong fighters in this world were adored. Of course, this was a world that loved to flaunt its strength.
From the lowest to the highest, everyone in this world—even the gods—liked to settle disputes with force. It was an unchanging law of this world.
After unleashing a barrage of Hole Hole Waves, Son Goten smashed the arena to pieces and made life miserable for the man in front of him. Yamcha could no longer defend himself. He felt as if he'd fallen into hell.
And what came next frightened him even more.
After attacking