World Martial Arts Tournament

"Haah, there sure are a lot of people," Son Goten said, staring at the seemingly endless crowd gathered in the plaza, his face bored.

The World Martial Arts Tournament brought together countless martial arts experts from all over the world. Son Goten gazed regretfully at the competitors. What a miserable era to be born in. There were Saiyans, Namekians, and all sorts of ridiculously powerful aliens everywhere. Among the stronger Earthlings, Krillin was about the best.

"Why hasn't Goku shown up yet? Registration's going to close if he doesn't hurry," Bulma complained, glancing at her watch.

"Whoosh."

Just as everyone was looking around for Son Goku, a sound cut through the air. They turned toward it, and a tall, familiar figure appeared out of nowhere.

"Yahoo!"

Son Goku appeared as if he'd teleported and greeted everyone.

"Long time no see, everyone," Son Goku said with a wide grin.

"Goku!" xN.

Overcome with excitement at Son Goku's arrival, Son Gohan and Chi-Chi threw themselves into his arms. Son Goten studied the man standing before him, who looked exactly like he did. I've finally met you, the protagonist of this world—Son Goku.

Son Goten murmured to himself, but his voice was too quiet, and everyone was focused on Son Goku. No one noticed the strange light in Son Goten's eyes.

He was over six feet tall, with the same crab-shaped hairstyle as Son Goten. Beneath his orange martial arts uniform, he wore a blue short-sleeved shirt. His handsome face held a constant, breezy smile; at first glance, he really didn't seem like someone anyone could dislike.

The only difference was the golden halo over Son Goku's head, marking him as dead.

"Goten, come say hello to your dad," Chi-Chi said, patting Son Goten on the back when she saw him still standing there in a daze.

"I was wondering why this kid looked just like me. Turns out he really is my son."

"Hahaha!"

Everyone laughed at Son Goku's sudden goofy remark, except for the stone-faced Vegeta and Piccolo.

"Dad."

Son Goten walked over to Son Goku and looked him over for a moment. A small smile appeared on his face.

"Wow, it's the world champion, Mr. Satan!" someone suddenly cried just as Son Goku was about to speak. The crowd erupted, parting around Son Goku and the others as everyone surged toward the tournament entrance.

A scruffy-looking middle-aged man with a gold belt tied around his waist and a white cape draped over his shoulders was surrounded by people. Mr. Satan, the "savior of the world."

Heh, the savior of the world? Son Goten watched Mr. Satan basking in the crowd's admiration, a cold glint passing through his eyes. No one noticed.

"Let's go. We should head to the arena first," Piccolo said.

"Okay."

The tournament entrants headed inside: Son Goku, Son Goten, Great Saiyaman (Son Gohan), Vegeta, Piccolo, Krillin, Android 18, and Trunks. They made up nearly half the sixteen finalists. What really annoyed Son Goten and Trunks, the two little brats, was that there was a junior division too. Seriously, what the hell?

"But Krillin, I didn't know you had hair," Son Goku said, looking at the hair on Krillin's formerly bald head.

"I told you I had hair! I'm only keeping it short now for a reason," Krillin retorted.

"Oh, is that so?" Son Goku said in surprise. A beautiful figure walked past him, and he glanced over, then gasped again. "Android 18? You're Android 18!"

"You're only noticing now, baka?" Android 18 turned to him with a deadpan, contemptuous look.

"What's Android 18 doing here?"

"Baka."

Android 18 gave Son Goku another disdainful look and continued walking. Krillin blushed slightly. "Android 18 and I got married. We live at Master Roshi's place, and we already have a daughter."

"But isn't she a robot? How can she have a child?" Son Goku asked, looking like he believed he might not know much, but he wasn't about to be fooled.

"Android 18 used to be human. Dr. Gero just modified her," Krillin retorted.

The punching machine measured a person's strength, though it was only meant for ordinary people.

"Ooh! Mr. Satan scored 137! That's the highest score we've seen so far!"

The chubby announcer looked excitedly at the number on the machine. Mr. Satan struck a few flashy poses, giving Son Goten a strange sense of déjà vu. So that's where the old man gets all that swagger from—Satan himself.

Son Goten's glare at Mr. Satan grew even more hostile.

I'm going to beat him senseless. I'll really beat the crap out of him.

I'll beat him so badly he won't be able to look after himself. Definitely.

After a chaotic flurry, Son Goku and the others all scored around two hundred points. The idiot announcer assumed the machine was broken. Then Vegeta, with his short temper, smashed the punching machine, leaving Videl stunned as she hurried over to see what had happened.

Good job, Uncle Vegeta! Son Goten cheered him on inwardly. That's more like it. Show these foolish Earthlings what real power looks like.

This sucks. Uncle Vegeta, couldn't you have waited until after I'd taken my turn to smash it? Son Gohan lamented inwardly. He could've gotten through the test easily, but now it was going to take a lot longer.