Mark

The Martial Alliance had suddenly become popular. Faced with this sudden rise, many people outside the martial arts world were a little bewildered. To them, the Martial Alliance seemed like one of those organizations that taught martial arts, and it didn't even seem as reputable as the combat sports world.

Still, ordinary people figured there had to be a reason for its sudden popularity, so they blindly followed the trend and wanted to learn martial arts. Even some older men and women came to join in the excitement. Jiang Yun didn't know whether to laugh or cry when he heard about it, but if people wanted to learn, the Martial Alliance would teach them.

The Martial Alliance also owned several fitness clubs. They could easily pass off some health-boosting exercises to those older men and women. As far as those people were concerned, martial arts were just a way to stay fit; they couldn't begin to imagine their potential.

But staying fit was enough for many people. That was exactly what they were after!

At that moment, a boy was training hard, kicking a punching bag. Sweat ran down his cheeks as he counted under his breath. "Two hundred and thirty-seven, two hundred and thirty-eight, two hundred and thirty-nine..."

The boy had a wild shock of hair. Judging by his face, you could easily believe he was in his twenties or thirties. He looked far older than he should have.

"Mark! Mark! Come look!"

A chubby boy shouted Mark's name as he ran toward him. He tripped and went sprawling face-first, but soon got right back up as if nothing had happened. Waving excitedly at Mark, he said, "Mark! Look! What's this?"

The chubby boy eagerly handed the newspaper to Mark, who took it and read the headline: "Martial Alliance to sponsor the World Martial Arts Tournament. Prize money to increase substantially. First place will receive 50 million, second place 30 million, third place 10 million, and each of the top eight contestants will receive one million!"

Mark only paid attention to the prize money and ignored everything else. He had only recently heard of the Martial Alliance, and he usually only followed the combat sports world. He wasn't interested in much else!

His goal was to become the uncrowned king of the combat sports world. That was what a man ought to do.

But until he became the uncrowned king, he still had to make a living. His eyes were already filled with dollar signs, and he let out a lecherous chuckle. He could already picture himself punching his way through the contestants, trampling second place, and then gloriously taking home the 50 million—before marrying a rich, beautiful woman...

The chubby boy watched Mark leer at the newspaper, even drooling, and wondered if he'd lost his mind. He gave Mark a look of disgust and waved a hand in front of him.

Mark finally snapped out of it. Wiping the drool from his mouth, he looked at the chubby boy and asked, "Lada, why are you showing me this?"

Seeing Mark's hesitation, Lada chuckled. "Mark, didn't you want to become a fighter? You could become a martial artist instead. The prize money is incredible!"

Lada didn't pause, continuing, "The Martial Alliance recently announced that it wanted to recruit a group of disciples under sixteen. Those who perform exceptionally well will not only receive generous rewards but could even become core disciples. I don't know what core disciples do, but they must have a pretty high standing in the Martial Alliance!"

"But we don't have any money!"

Mark drooped his head in dismay. He'd assumed the Martial Alliance was like those combat organizations that charged people to join, and the thought troubled him. The truth was, he wanted to become a fighting champion because he wanted a better life. He wasn't going to get anywhere through studying. He was an orphan, and so was Lada. This was the only path open to him. He didn't care whether he became a fighter or a martial artist; he was only trying to make a living!

Mark couldn't help feeling that life was too hard. It had only gotten harder since his master died. His master had once made fun of a strange man's hair and had been brutally killed for it. Mark had sworn never again to pick a fight with someone he didn't know or someone whose appearance might be deceiving.

Seeing Mark's despondent expression, Lada, who knew what he'd been through, patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, Mark. The Martial Alliance is different. They don't charge people to become disciples, and I heard the benefits of joining are really good. Someone became one of their core disciples before, and the Martial Alliance not only cured his grandmother's illness but even found him a place to live!"

Mark was a little surprised. Wasn't the Martial Alliance supposed to exploit its people like those other unscrupulous organizations? Hearing Lada's answer, he couldn't help feeling a little more favorably toward it.

"Alliance Leader, why are we sponsoring that little-known World Martial Arts Tournament? We could organize a top-tier competition ourselves."

This Martial Alliance disciple couldn't understand why Jiang Yun wanted to sponsor a tournament with so little name recognition. The World Martial Arts Tournament couldn't even compete with some of the combat sports events.

Jiang Yun shook his head without saying anything and gazed into the distance. What the disciple didn't know was that, in the heart of every Dragon Ball fan, the World Martial Arts Tournament was an eternal legend—a cherished memory of youth they would never regret!

Meanwhile, Mark followed Lada to the Martial Alliance's registration site. When a staff member heard Mark say he wanted to sign up, he told him, "Sorry, we're only recruiting boys under sixteen."

Hearing that, Mark felt a few dark lines appear over his head. Why did people everywhere have to make a fuss about his looks? He was mature, that was all. Mature, got it?

Lada explained, "Sorry, sir. He's my friend, and he's the same age as me. He's only thirteen."

"Thirteen? All right, fill out this form, then head inside." That was what he said, but he thought, This kid's grown up fast. He doesn't look much younger than me.

Mark and Lada waited in line for a long time. At last, it was their turn!

"Satan? Who's Satan?"

The staff member inside called out.

"Me! I'm Satan!"

It was Mark who answered. He'd chosen that name to commemorate the city where he had once lived: Satan City.

"Come on in, Satan."

Satan followed the staff member into the room.

Lada didn't know why Mark was using a fake name, but figured he must have his reasons. He didn't think much of it. After all, there was no rule saying they had to use their real names, and they weren't the only ones using aliases. He'd even seen people with all kinds of odd nicknames, like someone called Cape Boy.

In the Dragon Ball World, plenty of people had strange names. Only a few had surnames, like Goku, who had taken the surname of Son Gohan.

After Mark and Lada went inside, they went through a series of bizarre tests. They wondered if doing all that was what it took to get accepted. What they didn't know was that Jiang Yun had painstakingly designed the tests to assess their potential. The Martial Alliance didn't accept just anyone. For now, only geniuses could become core disciples. Otherwise, even if they were taught the real techniques, they wouldn't be able to keep up.

Jiang Yun didn't know that he had completely changed someone's life. He had no idea just how great a storm the butterfly he'd set in motion would stir up. Only time would tell!