New World Martial Arts Tournament

Deep beneath Capsule Corp in West City.

"Bzzzz—"

As the low rumble gradually died away, the massive silvery-white hemispherical structure—the Gravity Training Chamber—finally stopped operating.

The heavy alloy airlock slowly opened. White steam billowed out, and a tall, slender figure stepped from within.

Sun Wuxiu stood bare-chested, his already powerful muscles now as flawless as marble sculpture. Every muscle seemed to contain strength capable of destroying stars.

Sweat dripped from his hair, evaporating into mist from the lingering heat on his body before it could reach the ground.

"Whew..."

Sun Wuxiu slowly exhaled a breath of stale air. It was so piercing that it shot through the air like an arrow, producing a crisp sonic boom.

He walked over to the control panel and glanced at the data displayed on it.

[Gravity Multiplier: 300x]

[Training Duration: 12 Hours]

"Three years already."

Sun Wuxiu picked up a towel beside him and wiped away his sweat, his gaze deep.

Over the past three years, he had practically treated this place as his second home.

Under the pressure of 300 times gravity, combined with the mental balance of the [Tiger Talisman], the endless stamina of the [Horse Talisman], and the strength amplification of the [Ox Talisman], his power had undergone a qualitative leap.

Sun Wuxiu closed his eyes and sensed the vast, bottomless ki within his body.

"My normal battle power should have stabilized at around three million."

Three million!

What kind of concept was that?

In the beginning of the original Dragon Ball Z, when Raditz invaded, Goku and Piccolo had battle powers of just over 400 after removing their weighted clothing.

Even later on Planet Namek, Frieza's first form had a battle power of only 530,000.

But Sun Wuxiu now, in his normal state alone, could easily crush five first-form Friezas with one hand. He could even beat third-form Frieza until he called him daddy!

And this was still the Earth arc!

The Saiyan arc had not even begun yet!

"This kind of power... is admittedly a little unfair for this point in time."

Sun Wuxiu shook his head with a laugh.

"The Gravity Chamber really is a training cheat for Saiyans in the early stages."

And he had built this power steadily through training, without deliberately using the Saiyan passive ability.

Because using the Saiyan passive ability was, in essence, an overdrawn development of his potential.

Setting aside whether it would affect the future, at the very least, the power gained that way would not be under his perfect control.

But even after reaching a battle power of three million, he still felt a trace of regret.

"I still can't transform into a Super Saiyan."

Over the past few days, when his battle power broke through the three-million mark, he had tried guiding the S-Cells in his body to mutate.

He had tried recalling things from his previous life that made him angry, such as being electrocuted to death before he could finish his Pin Hao Fan meal. He had also tried gathering ki in his back like Cabba from Universe 6.

But unfortunately, although he could feel that the final barrier had become thin enough to see through, he was still one step short.

"Sure enough, without extreme anger as the fuse, relying purely on S-Cell concentration is still a little difficult."

Sun Wuxiu was not discouraged.

According to the setting of Dragon Ball Super, the higher one's base battle power and the more S-Cells one had, the easier it was to transform.

There were still more than five full years before the Planet Namek arc.

"If I push my normal battle power to ten million, or even higher... then I probably won't need to get that angry. I could probably transform into a Super Saiyan just by casually gathering ki in my back, right?"

The thought put Sun Wuxiu in a great mood.

"Wu Xiu! Are you done training?"

At that moment, Bulma's voice came through the communicator.

"Hurry up! Today's the registration day for the Martial Arts Tournament. We're going to be late!"

"Coming."

Sun Wuxiu put on his specially tailored casual suit, which now looked somewhat tight on him, and smiled.

"It's time to see those old friends again."

Papaya Island, Martial Arts Temple.

A light drizzle drifted through the sky, bringing a hint of coolness to the tropical island.

Under the eaves of the registration area, a group of martial artists who looked distinctly unfriendly were sheltering from the rain.

"Is everyone else not here yet?"

A short, bald young man with no nose stood on tiptoe and looked around.

It was Krillin.

Over the past three years, his height had... well, basically not changed. But the aura around him had become incredibly condensed, and his eyes held the confidence of a strong fighter.

"Not yet, but I have a feeling they're all very strong."

Beside him, the tall Tien Shinhan stood with his arms folded. The third eye on his forehead glowed faintly.

"Especially that Demon Second Generation... For the past three years, I've thought of nothing but defeating him."

Yamcha and Chiaotzu were nearby as well. Though they were somewhat nervous, they had also been reborn through three years of hellish training.

Just then—

"Hey—!! Everyone!!!"

An energetic voice came from the curtain of rain.

Everyone turned to look.

A young man without an umbrella was running toward them at a brisk pace.

He was tall and straight-backed, wearing the familiar orange Turtle Hermit Style gi, though his head was wrapped in a white kerchief.

"You're..." Krillin froze for a moment, then his eyes widened. "Go... Goku?!"

"Hehe, it's me!"

Son Goku ran up to them, took off his soaked kerchief, revealed that iconic spiky hair, and grinned brightly.

"Wow! Goku, you got so much taller!!"

Bulma, who had just arrived with Wu Xiu, exclaimed.

Indeed, Goku had completely shed the immaturity of his youth. He had grown much taller and now looked entirely like an adult.

"It really is Goku!"

Master Roshi was filled with emotion as well. "In the blink of an eye, you've all grown into adults."

After exchanging greetings, everyone's gaze naturally shifted toward the man standing beside Bulma.

Sun Wuxiu.

He was not wearing a martial arts uniform, only casual clothes. He was even holding a black umbrella for Bulma.

He simply stood there quietly, not emitting even the slightest trace of ki.

He looked like nothing more than an ordinary rich young master.

Yet the instant they saw Sun Wuxiu, both Goku, whose senses were the sharpest, and Tien Shinhan, whose Third Eye was open, had their pupils suddenly constrict.

"B-Brother..."

Goku swallowed. "Your ki... has completely disappeared?"

"Has it?" Sun Wuxiu smiled. "That's a good thing. It means I'm controlling it fairly well."

That state of returning to simplicity instantly crushed the faint thought that had just arisen in their hearts—that perhaps three years of training had allowed them to catch up a little.

Unfathomable.

That was the only feeling everyone had at that moment.

"Wu Xiu, will you be competing this time?"

Tien Shinhan could not help asking, his eyes filled with both anticipation and fear.

"I won't."

Sun Wuxiu waved his hand and looked at his companions. Though they had grown stronger, in his eyes, they still seemed like porcelain dolls.

"My battle power is a little out of control. Right now, I could probably fight ten thousand Gokus at once... Ahem, just kidding."

Everyone: "..."

Although he said he was joking, seeing the serious look in Sun Wuxiu's eyes, everyone felt that... it might actually be true.

"Besides, I'm not the protagonist this time."

Sun Wuxiu's gaze passed over the crowd and landed behind a distant pillar.

There stood a tall figure wearing a white cape and a white turban.

Green skin. Cold eyes.

The Demon Second Generation—Piccolo.

Piccolo was staring fixedly in this direction. More precisely, he was staring at Sun Wuxiu.

His body trembled slightly.

It was the fear of being dominated by Sun Wuxiu, rooted deep within his soul.

Over the past three years, he had inherited the memories of the old Piccolo and trained day and night, all to surpass this man.

But now, when he truly faced Sun Wuxiu again, he realized in despair... he still could not see through this man.

He understood him even less than he had three years ago.

"Damn monster..." Piccolo gritted his teeth, his nails digging deeply into his flesh.

Sun Wuxiu sensed the killing intent, but merely glanced at Piccolo. He even smiled and waved, as if greeting an old acquaintance.

Piccolo: "..."

That kind of disdain hurt worse than being killed.

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