Discovered

The staff were still working like industrious ants, patching up the arena that Goku and Tien Shinhan had blasted to pieces.

Broken stones were hauled away, and new slabs were laid down.

Though the colors didn't match—old and new, looking like a patched-up rag of a coat—it was at least stable enough to stand on.

"Alright... sorry to keep you all waiting!"

The announcer wiped his sweat-soaked forehead, his Sunglasses sliding down his nose like a playground slide.

"The second semifinal match: Krillin versus Mr. Shen!"

Krillin shoved the last handful of popcorn into his mouth, clapped his hands, and the crumbs hadn't even hit the ground before his invisible aura pulverized them into dust.

"Go for it, Krillin! Knock that old man flying!"

Bulma waved her fists from the second floor.

Krillin turned back and flashed a grin that could make any female creature's heart skip a beat.

Then, with a light tap of his toe, he floated onto the arena like a feather, weightless and effortless.

Across from him, the middle-aged man called "Mr. Shen" was slowly climbing up.

He wore glasses thick as beer-bottle bottoms, a cheap suit, and carried a briefcase.

He looked like a tired office worker heading to an izakaya for a drink after clocking out.

But Krillin knew who was under that skin.

The God of Earth, Kami.

The good half born from the same body as King Piccolo.

The two stood at the center of the arena, barely two meters apart.

Mr. Shen pushed up his glasses, the lenses glinting, hiding his eyes.

The noisy crowd, the announcer's shouts, the distant crash of waves—all of it seemed to vanish between them.

"Young man."

Mr. Shen spoke, his voice low, not through his mouth but directly into Krillin's mind.

"About Piccolo... thank you."

Telepathy?

Krillin didn't even raise an eyebrow, replying in kind.

"Don't mention it. It was nothing."

"If I'd let him blow up this island, my master would've cracked my skull with his staff for sure."

Mr. Shen paused for a moment, as if he hadn't expected such a down-to-earth response.

"You don't seem surprised that I know who you are, or what you've done."

His voice carried a hint of gravity.

"More importantly... I can't smell 'this world' on you."

Krillin's hand in his pocket froze for a split second.

The God of this world had some real tricks up his sleeve.

He'd thought that with the Saitama template, he could steamroll through early Dragon Ball, where Battle Power was everything.

But in the Dragon Ball world, Battle Power was just the surface.

Those divine, mystical things—

Like Namek's Grand Elder unlocking potential, the broken skill that was Kaio-ken, and the higher-tier Ultra Instinct—

Those were the real high-dimensional powers.

If the God of Earth could sense he was a "transmigrator" or "anomaly," what about King Kai?

What about the King of Gods?

Or even that sleepy God of Destruction, Beerus?

Alarms blared in Krillin's mind, but his face only showed a more bored expression.

He picked at his ear, flicking away imaginary wax.

"Old man, some things are better left unsaid if you want to live long."

"Look at you—you're already up there in years. Possessing this mortal can't be easy. What if you throw out your back?"

"I see."

Mr. Shen sighed.

"Your soul and body are perfectly fused, but that fundamental 'otherness'—like ink dropped into clear water—is far too obvious."

"I originally came to seal Piccolo, but from the looks of it, as long as you're here, he won't cause any trouble."

"Though Piccolo's problem is already solved, and I should bow out. But I have to confirm one thing..."

The aged eyes behind those thick lenses suddenly sharpened.

"That power of yours, which doesn't belong to this world—is it righteous or evil?"

Krillin stared at the panel before him.

[Host: Krillin]

[Current Fusion Rate: 16%]

[Strength: 1200 (suppressed in normal state, no upper limit when unleashed)]

[Agility: 1050]

[Intellect: 500]

[Charm: 95]

[Special Skills: Serious Series, Bald Head Power, Beast Sense, Genius Intellect, Namekian Regeneration (Basic)]

"Righteous or evil?"

Krillin laughed, a little recklessly.

"That kind of thing is for kids who can't make up their minds. What's it got to do with me?"

"I'm just a bald guy who wants to get stronger and live a comfortable life on the side."

"As for whether I'll endanger Earth..."

"As long as no one bothers me while I'm eating, sleeping, or chasing girls, Earth is the safest place in the whole universe."

Mr. Shen stared at Krillin for a full ten seconds.

"I hope so. But since I'm here, let's trade a few moves first."

Mr. Shen gently set his briefcase by the edge of the Arena, took off his suit jacket, and folded it neatly.

"I want to know just how strong you've become—strong enough to beat Piccolo in one punch."

"Trying to test my limits?"

Krillin twisted his neck, producing a crisp crack.

"Fine. I want to see what tricks a so-called 'god' has besides living a long time."

"Tournament—begin!"

With the Referee's command, Mr. Shen's demeanor shifted.