The Top 8 Matchups Are Revealed

The dust of the preliminary rounds had just settled, and the air still hung heavy with the scent of pulverized stone and sweat.

Staff members were busy clearing the mountain-like piles of rubble from the center of the arena, while the qualifiers were ushered to the side to rest and await the draw for the next round.

"Wow! Lin Fan, you're amazing!"

Krillin crowded around Lin Fan, sweat beads still clinging to his bald head, his eyes wide as saucers. "With just that light tap, the stone slab turned into that! How did you do it?"

Son Goku nodded vigorously beside him, his tail curling with curiosity. "Yeah, yeah! I didn't feel any strong ki at all! But the stone just shattered! What a strange technique!"

Lin Fan looked at their expressions—pure curiosity, devoid of any jealousy—and simply smiled. "Just a little trick for focusing power into a single point. Nothing to write home about."

Naturally, he wasn't about to explain the principles of internal disintegration via qi penetration.

Bulma didn't care about the details; she patted Lin Fan on the shoulder with pride (nearly sending him stumbling). "See that? This is the guy I found! Impressive, right? Much more elegant than some brutes who only know how to use raw force!"

As she spoke, she cast a pointed glance toward Puff, who was nearby, looking sour while being massaged by his lackeys.

Puff snorted, turned his head away, and muttered under his breath, "Hmph, cheap tricks. Just got lucky..."

In the resting area, the qualifiers stood in small groups, the atmosphere thick with tension.

Everyone was sizing each other up, evaluating potential opponents.

Lin Fan could clearly feel several gazes lingering on him, filled with scrutiny, wariness, and even a hint of imperceptible disdain.

After all, his move had relied heavily on technique, and he didn't appear to possess much "power" in the traditional sense.

Lin Fan didn't mind these stares; he was silently observing as well.

Aside from the familiar faces of Son Goku, Krillin, Tien Shinhan, Chiaotzu, and that annoying Puff, a few others with significant presence caught his attention.

A tall, dark-skinned, taciturn monk; a woman in strange ethnic attire with sharp eyes; and a white-haired youth leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, seemingly indifferent to everything.

The ki emanating from these individuals was significantly more refined than that of the eliminated contestants.

"Attention, contestants! The draw for the quarterfinals is about to begin! Will all qualifiers please step forward!"

The referee shouted through a megaphone.

The crowd stirred, and the sixteen qualifiers—including Lin Fan, Son Goku, Krillin, Tien Shinhan, and Chiaotzu—gathered around a transparent lottery box.

A staff member shook the box, which contained ping-pong balls marked with each contestant's number.

"First, we draw the first match of the upper bracket!"

The referee reached into the box, rummaged around, pulled out two balls, and loudly announced the numbers. "Number 98! Versus... Number 157!"

Lin Fan paused; 98 was his number.

He looked up to see a tall, muscular man in a flashy fighting suit with a mohawk raising his hand triumphantly—it was 157.

Upon seeing his opponent was Lin Fan, the man froze for a second, then his face twisted into undisguised glee and contempt, and he deliberately made a throat-slitting gesture.

"It's Giran!"

Krillin whispered to Son Goku, "That guy is supposedly famous in the northern region. He's very strong, but he fights dirty..."

"Oh? Is that so?"

Son Goku scratched his head, seemingly unimpressed.

Lin Fan ignored Giran's provocation, simply marking him as his next opponent.

His luck was decent; he hadn't drawn Son Goku or Tien Shinhan, the real heavy hitters, nor had he faced those with the strange, unsettling auras.

To him, Giran's ki was substantial in quantity but chaotic and restless, with a shaky foundation and plenty of openings.

The draw continued.

"Next, the second match of the upper bracket! Number 12! Versus... Number 38!"

"That's me!"

Son Goku jumped up happily and raised his hand.

Opposite him, a cold voice rang out: "Tien Shinhan."

Tien Shinhan, with his three eyes, stood with his arms crossed, coldly stating his name.

Their gazes met in mid-air, seemingly sparking invisible flames, and a surge of fighting spirit instantly filled the space.

Everyone knew this would be a clash of titans.

"And now, the first match of the lower bracket! Number 18! Versus... Number 56!"

"That's me!"

Krillin raised his hand, looking a bit nervous.

Across from him, the small, expressionless figure floating in mid-air—Chiaotzu—gave a soft "Hmm." Krillin's face fell instantly. "Ah... it's Chiaotzu..." He knew how troublesome Chiaotzu's psychic powers could be.

"The second match of the lower bracket!..."

The bracket was announced match by match, bringing joy to some and sorrow to others. Puff had drawn a rather formidable-looking opponent, and his expression turned grim.

The tall monk was paired against the woman in the strange ethnic attire.

And the indifferent white-haired youth was matched against another martial artist with a strong aura.

Finally, the complete quarter-final bracket appeared on the big screen:

Upper Bracket: Lin Fan (98) vs. Giran (157); Son Goku (12) vs. Tien Shinhan (38)

Lower Bracket: Krillin (18) vs. Chiaotzu (56); Nam (102) vs. Launch (77) (The other four matchups omitted)

"Great! I didn't get matched with you guys in the first round!"

Son Goku didn't consider whether he could win or not; instead, he was happy for his friends. He slapped Lin Fan and Krillin on the back with such force that he nearly drove them into the ground. "Lin Fan, Krillin, let's all do our best! Let's make it to the finals together!"

Krillin rubbed his aching shoulder and gave a wry smile. "Goku, don't get too excited yet. Tien Shinhan is very strong... and Chiaotzu is tough to deal with, too..."

Lin Fan looked at the bracket, his heart calm and unruffled.

He was at least ninety percent sure he could take down his first-round opponent, Giran.

The real challenge lay ahead.

His gaze swept over Tien Shinhan and Son Goku; the winner between those two would likely be his next opponent.

He also took note of the monk named Nam and the woman named Launch; their energy signatures were quite unique.

"Let's go!"

Bulma called out excitedly. "The matches don't start until the afternoon, so let's go grab something to eat and study some tactics while we're at it!"

The group headed toward the restaurant on the island.

Son Goku was still excitedly discussing Tien Shinhan's techniques with Krillin, while Bulma was busy calculating how to use scientific analysis to help Lin Fan.

Lin Fan walked at the back, looking back one last time at the massive bracket.

The quarter-finals... this would be his first real, public battle in this Dragon Ball World as a cultivator.

Giran, was it...

A faint, almost imperceptible curve tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Let you be the one to verify exactly how this "Dao" of the mid-stage Qi Refining differs from the "Ki" of this world.

The martial arts arena this afternoon was destined to be anything but calm.