The sea breeze on Papaya Island carried a lively, salty warmth as it swept through the crowded streets.
Huge banners for the World Martial Arts Tournament were everywhere. Martial artists in all kinds of outlandish outfits jostled shoulder to shoulder, and the air was thick with sweat, excitement, and the faint fluctuations of "ki."
As soon as Bulma got off the plane, she looked around excitedly. "Wow! There are so many people this year! It's way livelier than last time!"
Son Goku and Krillin were like birds let out of their cages. Their eyes went wide as they took in everything around them. Sensing so many ki signatures, some strong and some weak, they were both itching to test themselves, unconsciously throwing a few practice moves.
The old man disguised as "Jackie Chun" looked as though he'd seen it all. He leaned on his cane, but behind his sunglasses, his eyes were still secretly sizing up several figures with impressive auras.
Lin Fan followed behind the others, his plain gray clothes making him easy to miss in the crowd.
The True Qi within him circulated on its own as his spiritual awareness quietly spread, keenly picking up the surrounding auras.
Most competitors had ki that felt muddled and unfocused to him—abundant in quantity, but lacking in quality. Yet a few auras were deep and solid, or sharp enough to intimidate. They were not to be underestimated.
A long line had formed at the registration desk. Suddenly, a burst of arrogant laughter rang out near the front.
"Hahaha! You call that pitiful excuse for martial arts good enough to enter the World Martial Arts Tournament? Go home and drink your milk!"
A tall man in an ornate martial arts uniform, his hair slicked until it gleamed, was surrounded by several lackeys. They were mercilessly mocking a group who looked like a master and his students from a minor school.
The master was red with anger, while his students dared not speak up.
"That's Puff!"
Krillin said quietly to Goku, "He's always like this. He bullies people because he's got a little fame."
Son Goku frowned and clenched his fists. "What a jerk!"
Puff seemed to sense their gaze. He turned around and spotted Master Roshi and the others. His eyes lit up when he noticed Bulma in particular. Leaving the master and his students behind, he swaggered over with a smug grin.
"Well, well! If it isn't Master Mutian's students. What, did the Turtle School send only two little brats and an old man to compete this year?"
He glanced contemptuously at Goku and Krillin, let his eyes linger on Bulma for a moment, then looked at Lin Fan in his plain clothes and sneered. "And where did you find this country bumpkin? Is the Turtle School so broke it can't afford decent fighters anymore?"
Bulma instantly bristled. "What did you say?!"
Son Goku was just as furious and started to step forward, but Master Roshi gently stopped him with his cane.
Lin Fan remained calm and didn't even look at Puff. He simply said to Bulma, "Bulma, it's a bit noisy here. Let's line up somewhere else."
It was as if Puff were nothing more than a buzzing fly, not worth his attention.
Being ignored so completely bothered Puff more than any retort could have.
His expression stiffened. It felt as though he'd thrown a punch and hit empty air, and he thought he heard a few stifled chuckles around him.
He glared at Lin Fan, snorted, and stalked off with his lackeys.
"Tch, who does he think he is?"
Bulma made a face at Puff's retreating back, then looked at Lin Fan curiously. "You're pretty good at keeping your cool."
Lin Fan smiled faintly but didn't explain.
Compared to the Great Dao of Heaven and Earth, such petty bickering was dust. Why give it a second thought?
Registration went smoothly, and the staff handed each competitor a number tag.
Lin Fan's was number 98.
Afterward, all the competitors were led into a spacious indoor arena for the preliminary rounds.
Thick gray stone slabs were neatly stacked in the middle of the arena. They looked exceptionally hard.
The referee was a booming-voiced man. Holding a megaphone, he announced the rules. "The preliminaries are simple! See those stone slabs? Use whatever method you're good at to smash one with your bare hands! If you can't do it, you're out! Now, step forward in numerical order!"
The competitors ahead of them each showed off their skills.
Some flexed their muscles and roared as they hammered the slabs with their fists. The stones shattered, and they grimaced in pain.
Others launched elegant spinning kicks, their legs whipping through the air as they split the slabs into pieces and drew cheers from the crowd.
Puff took his turn, too. To show off, he struck several exaggerated poses before bringing his hand down in a sharp chop. The slab broke cleanly in two.
He smugly shook out his hand, basking in his lackeys' praise, then made a point of glancing over at Lin Fan and the others.
Son Goku and Krillin watched with rapt attention, quietly discussing how they would break the slab themselves.
Soon, it was Lin Fan's turn.
"Number 98!"
Lin Fan calmly stepped out of line and walked up to a fresh stone slab.
He didn't take a horse stance or shout as he gathered his strength. He simply stood there, held out his right hand with his index and middle fingers together, and slowly pointed at the center of the slab.
A few people around him snickered. "What's he doing? Tickle the slab?"
"So that's the Turtle School for you?"
Even the referee looked puzzled.
But the next moment, all the laughter abruptly stopped.
Lin Fan's fingertips lightly touched the stone. There was no deafening crash, no flying shards, and no cries of pain.
There was only a soft "pop," like a balloon being pricked.
Then, centered on the spot where his fingers landed, countless cracks spread across the entire slab in an instant, like a spiderweb.
The whole slab then quietly collapsed, turning into a pile of evenly sized pieces of stone, each about the size of a finger. It was as though some strange force had completely destroyed its internal structure rather than smashing it apart from the outside.
The whole thing had been so effortless it was almost eerie.
For a moment, the arena fell silent.
"Uh... Number 98, you pass!"
The referee was the first to react and announced it loudly, though his eyes held a flicker of uncertainty.
Son Goku blinked in surprise. "Wow! How'd he do that? It felt so strange!"
Krillin rubbed his bald head. "I couldn't even sense much ki... So how did the slab break?"
Bulma planted her hands on her hips, looking triumphant. "Hmph! See? That's what makes Lin Fan so impressive!"
Even Master Roshi, disguised as an old man, had lowered his sunglasses a little. His beady eyes moved from the pile of rubble to Lin Fan's withdrawn fingers, and he silently muttered, "That kid... He wasn't using ki at all..."
Under a sea of astonished, puzzled, and curious gazes, Lin Fan calmly returned to the line as if he'd done something utterly trivial.
Only he knew that with that single point, he had concentrated a wisp of pure True Qi at his fingertips. Rather than meeting the stone's force head-on, he'd sent it straight into the slab and used its own structure as a guide. With a gentle "vibration," he had disintegrated it from within.
The Great Dao Source Scripture taught the art of wielding the power of all things under Heaven and Earth, not simply competing in brute strength.
Why make a spectacle of breaking an ordinary stone?
The preliminary rounds continued, but after Lin Fan's display, the performances of many competitors who followed seemed rather lackluster.
Lin Fan's gaze turned to Son Goku and Krillin, who were about to take their turns.
He knew that the real warriors of the Dragon Ball World were only just beginning to show what they could do.
And his path of cultivation, in this world where the strong ruled, had only just begun.
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