Everyone Has Arrived

Papaya Island.

This was the holy land of martial artists from around the world, and the grand gathering held once every three years would officially begin tomorrow.

Although there was still a day before the Tournament began, the island was already packed.

Colorful umbrellas bloomed along the streets like poisonous mushrooms, choking the narrow roads until there was barely room to move.

Martial arts enthusiasts from all over the world, peddlers, and martial artists hoping to make a name for themselves overnight had heated up the atmosphere considerably.

The registration booth was set up at the entrance to the Martial Arts Temple. Rainwater dripped from the temple's upturned eaves, splashing against the bluestone pavement.

"Next!"

The staff member was a bespectacled middle-aged man who impatiently tapped the table. "Name?"

"King Chaba."

A burly, dark-skinned man in a yellow training uniform declared proudly, deliberately showing off his biceps.

"I made it to the quarterfinals last time."

"Yeah, yeah, got it. Fill out the form and stop blocking the way."

The staff member did not even look up, clearly accustomed to this sort of braggart.

A commotion broke out at the back of the line.

A huge red parasol shielded the old man in sunglasses from the rain.

Master Roshi wore his trademark orange Hawaiian shirt and stood with his hands behind his back, looking profound and inscrutable.

If one ignored the fact that his eyes kept sneaking glances at the thighs of passing beauties, he really did have the bearing of a grandmaster.

"Master Roshi, there are too many people here."

It was Krillin speaking.

He was not holding an umbrella.

The rain fell onto his bald head and slid smoothly away without a single drop clinging to it.

He wore an orange-red Turtle School gi, with a black tank top underneath.

The Krillin of today was different from the one three days ago.

His gaze was calmer, or perhaps one could even say somewhat... vacant.

It was a side effect of his deeper fusion with the Saitama Template—he could not muster much interest in most things.

"Crowds are what make it lively."

Master Roshi chuckled and wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth,

"And besides, we might run into some pretty young female fighters."

"That's the essence of the Martial Arts Tournament!"

Yamcha walked at the very back with a dark expression, carrying bags and bundles of luggage in both hands.

As the person with the current "lowest Battle Power" and "worst luck in love," he had been forced into the role of pack animal.

"Damn it... Why do I have to do this kind of odd job?!"

Yamcha gritted his teeth,

"That traitor Puar actually went off to hang around with that lecherous pig Oolong!"

"Stop complaining. This is weighted training."

Krillin glanced back at him, holding a freshly bought hot dog and eating it with gusto,

"Want some? The mustard sauce here is pretty good. It's only five yuan, so it's a great deal."

Yamcha was just about to refuse, but his stomach betrayed him with a growl.

"Save half for me!!"

Just then, a powerful aura suddenly descended.

The noisy crowd around them seemed to be parted by an invisible hand and instantly fell silent.

Three figures emerged from the curtain of rain.

At the front was a tall, three-eyed man. Every step he took on the puddled ground produced a deep, muffled echo.

A small figure floated beside him, while a blonde woman followed behind.

The Crane School.

"Aren't those people from the Turtle School?"

Tien Shinhan stopped and swept his cold gaze over the group, finally settling on Krillin.

He could not sense the slightest flow of ki from Krillin.

It was as if he were an ordinary passerby, or even weaker than one—practically a plant.

Yet that only made him more vigilant.

Yamcha put down the luggage and stepped forward, trying to regain some dignity,

"This time, the champion will definitely come from our Turtle School."

Tien Shinhan did not even glance at Yamcha. He simply stared at Krillin.

"Where's Goku? Didn't he come?"

"As for Goku, he should be here soon."

Krillin swallowed the last bite of his hot dog and accurately tossed the skewer into a trash can ten meters away,

"But the current you might not even be able to beat me."

Krillin spoke with complete sincerity, without the slightest hint of provocation.

He was stating a fact as plainly as saying, "It's raining today."

But to Tien Shinhan, it sounded like the greatest provocation imaginable.

"Hmph. What arrogance."

The veins on Tien Shinhan's forehead throbbed.

"I hope your fists are at least half as tough as your mouth when you're in the Arena."

The atmosphere between the two sides grew tense, as if sparks were crackling through the air.

Just then, a lively voice descended from the sky.

"Hey... everyone!!!"

Everyone looked up.

A black shadow plummeted from the clouds at incredible speed, showing no sign of slowing down as it shot straight toward the ground.

"Boom!"

Muddy water splashed in every direction.

The impact blasted a huge crater into the ground, and the surrounding people fled in all directions in terror.

When the dust cleared, a young man stood at the bottom of the crater, drenched from head to toe and carrying no umbrella.

He wore an extraordinarily bright smile, while his trademark Spiky Hair made his identity obvious.

The gi he wore was clearly a size too small, stretched tightly across his body and revealing his solid muscle definition.

"Goku?!"

Everyone froze.

Bulma, who had just hurried over from the hotel with the Capsule Case in her hands, covered her mouth, her eyes wide as saucers.

"Oh my god, is this Goku? When did he get so tall? And... he's actually pretty handsome?"