All Z Fighters Enter the Competition (Revised as Suggested)

Son Goku and the others were in the middle of their victory banquet when, suddenly, King Piccolo appeared outside the restaurant.

Outside the window, a green figure hovered in mid-air, accompanied by an ugly, green-skinned creature behind him. It was King Piccolo and his son, Tambourine. Unlike in the original story, King Piccolo had come looking for them directly.

"So, the strongest martial artists are all gathered here. That's perfect. I'll finish you all off at once, and then I can rule the Earth!!! Hahaha! I was just looking to stretch my limbs!"

Son Goku set down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth, his expression terrifyingly calm.

"He's here... King Piccolo."

In the original story, Krillin died because of King Piccolo.

He stood up, walked to the window, and looked up at the green figure. There was no fear in his black eyes, only a heart-stopping sense of... pity.

"King Piccolo," Son Goku's voice was soft, yet it reached everyone's ears clearly, "are you sure... you want to do this here?"

"Enough talk!"

King Piccolo roared and raised his hand, unleashing a blast of energy! The purple energy sphere tore through the air, hurtling straight toward Son Goku inside the restaurant!

"Goku!"

"Look out!"

Son Goku sighed.

He raised his hand—no explosive aura, no roaring, just a casual flick—

"Pop."

That energy blast, capable of leveling half a street, was swatted away like a soap bubble, vanishing into the distant horizon.

The entire place fell silent.

King Piccolo's eyes widened: "You... what did you do?!"

"I told you," Son Goku leaped out the window and landed in front of King Piccolo, "you are weak."

He raised his hand, his palm aimed at King Piccolo's chest.

"And... you killed Krillin once. Even if that was in the 'original story,' I... am very displeased."

"What?!"

"Bang—!!!"

A white aura erupted in an instant, and Son Goku's fist punched through King Piccolo's chest. No flashy techniques, no earth-shattering energy blasts—just a single punch.

King Piccolo looked down at the bloody hole in his chest, his eyes filled with disbelief: "No... impossible... I... I am King Piccolo..."

"You're old," Son Goku withdrew his fist and watched King Piccolo slowly collapse, his voice calm, "this era... no longer belongs to you."

King Piccolo hit the ground hard, his green blood staining the stone slabs. His life force faded rapidly, but his eyes burned with a frantic fire.

"I... I won't die..." he struggled to open his mouth, "I will... lay an egg... I will... be reborn..."

"I know," Son Goku crouched down to look at him, "that's why I wounded you, but didn't kill you."

King Piccolo froze: "You... what did you say?"

"Your descendant," Son Goku said earnestly, "will become a good person. So... please, entrust your hope to him."

King Piccolo stared at him intently, as if trying to see through the soul of this young man.

But in the end, he only let out a miserable laugh, his body convulsing violently—

"Ugh—"

A green, mucus-covered egg was spat from his mouth and rolled onto the ground. King Piccolo's aura dissipated completely, his body turning to ash and drifting away with the wind.

Son Goku picked up the egg, feeling the faint yet tenacious life force within.

"Piccolo..."

"This time, you will become our ally ahead of schedule."

Three days later, Kame House.

The sea breeze brushed by, and the coconut trees swayed. But the atmosphere inside the house was unprecedentedly serious.

Son Goku stood in the center, with Krillin, Yamcha, Tien Shinhan, Chiaotzu, and Master Roshi—who was holding the large green egg—sitting before him.

"So," Krillin scratched his bald head, his expression strange, "you mean... we should all go train?"

"Not just 'go train'," Son Goku said seriously, "you must 'train for your lives'."

He scanned the group, his black eyes burning with a fire that made everyone's heart tremble:

"The Earth... will soon face great trouble. King Piccolo was only the beginning; there are even more terrifying enemies in the future. If we don't become stronger..."

He paused, his voice dropping low:

"Everyone will die."

The room fell into a dead silence.

Yamcha swallowed hard: "More terrifying enemies? How terrifying?"

"He is a hundred times stronger than me," Son Goku said candidly, "no, ten thousand times."

"T-ten thousand times?!" Oolong was so terrified he tumbled off his chair.

Tien Shinhan's three eyes were locked onto Son Goku: "How... how do you know that?"

"You know, I'm not actually from Earth. I'm a Saiyan, a warrior race from the cosmos," Son Goku lied without changing his expression. "Saiyans are instilled with basic cosmic knowledge during infancy, but I hit my head and forgot all of it. It's only recently that I've recovered some of those memories, and they mention the existence of incredibly powerful beings in the universe."

Bulma sat in the corner, clutching her laptop and adjusting her glasses: "So, what is your plan?"

Son Goku took a deep breath and began assigning tasks:

"Krillin, you go to the Lookout and train with Mr. Popo. Mr. Popo will teach you the precise control of ki, and... how to break through the limits of your body."

Krillin's eyes widened: "The Lookout?! The Heavenly Realm?!"

"Yes," Son Goku nodded. "Your talent isn't as great as mine, but your foundation is incredibly solid. Mr. Popo's training is perfect for you."

Krillin paused for a moment, then clenched his fists, his eyes burning with fighting spirit: "Alright! I'll go! This time... I will definitely catch up to you!"

"Yamcha," Son Goku turned to the wolf-headed youth, "you go back to Kame House and retrain under Master Roshi."

"Retrain?" Yamcha frowned. "My Wolf Fang Fist is already—"

"Your foundation is too flashy," Son Goku interrupted. "The true essence of the Turtle School isn't in the techniques, but in 'unity of body and mind.' Master Roshi will teach you the true Turtle School."

Master Roshi stroked his white beard, looking uncharacteristically serious: "Goku is right. Yamcha, you have good talent, but you are too eager for success. Starting tomorrow, wake up at four in the morning and run ten kilometers."

Yamcha looked bitter, but eventually nodded: "...Yes."

"Tien Shinhan," Son Goku looked at the three-eyed youth, "you go to Korin Tower and find Master Karin. Then, go to the Lookout as well!"

"Korin Tower? Master Karin? The Lookout?" Tien Shinhan was stunned.

"Master Karin has the Super Holy Water, which can unlock your potential and increase your combat power," Son Goku said earnestly. "And... you are a hybrid of an Earthling and a Three-Eyed Alien. You have the bloodline of the Three-Eyed Alien, and your third eye still has a lot of room for development. Mr. Popo at the Lookout will be able to help you."

Tien Shinhan fell silent. He subconsciously touched the third eye on his forehead, which was faintly heating up.

"...Alright."

"Chiaotzu," Son Goku looked at the silent little man, "you go directly to the Lookout and train with Mr. Popo."

Chiaotzu looked up, his large eyes filled with confusion: "I... I'm going too?"

"Your psychic powers are very strong," Son Goku crouched down to look him in the eye, "but your control is too poor. Every time you use your powers, you suffer a backlash yourself, don't you?"

Chiaotzu's body stiffened, and he lowered his head: "...Yes."

"Mr. Popo will teach you to have a 'heart like still water,'" Son Goku patted his shoulder. "Only by learning to control your own heart can you control the actions of others. Only when you become stronger can you help Tien Shinhan!"

Chiaotzu looked up, a glimmer of light flashing in his eyes: "I... I understand!"

Finally, Son Goku turned to Master Roshi and looked at the green egg: "Master Roshi, I leave this... to you."

Master Roshi looked down at the egg in his arms, his expression complex: "You want this old man... to take care of the offspring of King Piccolo?"

"Yes," Son Goku nodded earnestly. "When he is born, he will carry King Piccolo's memories and hatred. But if anyone can dissolve that malice... it is you."

He paused, then said softly:

"Because you are... the God of Martial Arts."

Master Roshi froze.

He looked at the young man before him and seemed to see himself from many years ago. That same passionate, persistent young man who believed that martial arts could change everything.

"...Fine."

Master Roshi let out a long sigh and held the egg tighter, his white beard fluttering gently in the wind:

"I suppose I'll... play the babysitter for once."