Quarterfinals

In the first quarter-final match, Yamcha faced Demon King Piccolo. As Piccolo stepped onto the ring, the atmosphere of the entire arena shifted. His skin was green, two antennae sprouted from his head, and he wore purple demon-clan robes, his gaze cold and sharp. An unsettling aura radiated from him—demonic energy. Yamcha took a deep breath and stepped onto the stage. "Your ki is weak," Piccolo began, his voice low and raspy. "Not even enough to serve as a warm-up." "Weak or not, we'll see once we fight," Yamcha said, assuming a combat stance. The match began! Yamcha moved first. His speed was like a cheetah's as he fired a ki blast toward Piccolo's face. Piccolo didn't even raise a hand; he simply tilted his head, and the blast whistled past his ear. "Too slow." Piccolo's figure vanished from where he stood. The next instant, he appeared behind Yamcha and struck his back with a single palm. Yamcha's body flew like a kite with a broken string, soaring out of the ring and crashing heavily onto the ground outside. "Contestant Yamcha is out of bounds! The winner is contestant Piccolo!" The crowd erupted in an uproar. With only one move, Piccolo had defeated the Turtle School's Yamcha. Kashu watched from below, his brow furrowed. Piccolo's strength was greater than he had anticipated—that palm strike had used less than ten percent of his power, yet his speed had already surpassed Yamcha's perception. "Demon King Piccolo... he truly lives up to his reputation," Kashu muttered.

The second match pitted Krillin against Tien Shinhan. Tien was a tall, lean young man wearing the deep blue gi of the Crane School, with a third eye centered on his forehead. His gaze was cold and sharp, a disdainful smirk playing on his lips. Chiaotzu followed behind him, a chubby little fellow wearing the same style of uniform.

"So you're the disciple of the Turtle School?" Tien looked at Krillin, his tone dripping with contempt. "A little bald guy?" "What's wrong with being bald? Did a bald guy eat your rice?" Krillin retorted. Tien's mouth twitched. "Your tongue is sharp enough. I hope your kung fu is just as impressive. The match begins!" Krillin moved first. He knew Tien's strength far exceeded his own, so he went all out from the start—his full eighty thousand battle power unleashed, his speed so fast that the eyes of ordinary spectators couldn't keep up. Tien's third eye glowed briefly, piercing through Krillin's movement trajectory. He sidestepped Krillin's first punch and countered with a palm strike to his chest. Krillin twisted in mid-air, barely dodging, but the force of Tien's palm grazed his shoulder, leaving a burning pain. "Where are your ki blasts? Let's see them," Tien said. Krillin didn't hesitate, firing over a dozen blasts in rapid succession. Tien waved his hands, swatting them all away with effortless ease. "Is that it?" Tien shook his head. "The Turtle School is nothing more than this." "It's not over yet!" Krillin pressed his hands together. "Ka-me-ha-me-ha!" A blue beam of light roared toward Tien. Tien's pupils constricted slightly—the power of this technique wasn't bad. He extended his right hand, a ball of yellow light condensing in his palm. "Dodon Ray!" The yellow beam and the blue beam collided, erupting in a blinding flash. The two energies stalemated for a few seconds before Krillin's Kamehameha was suppressed. Krillin gritted his teeth, increasing his output, but Tien did the same. Eventually, the Dodon Ray pierced through the Kamehameha and struck Krillin's shoulder. Krillin flew backward, barely stopping at the edge of the ring. A small hole had been punched through his left shoulder by the Dodon Ray, and blood flowed freely.

"Contestant Krillin is injured! Can he continue?" the host shouted nervously. Krillin looked at the wound on his shoulder and gritted his teeth. "I can continue." "You are no match for me," Tien said. "Give up, lest I hurt you even worse." "Give up?" Krillin laughed. "I, Krillin, can do many things, but I never give up." He took a deep breath, condensed a small energy sphere at his fingertips, and flung it out. The sphere spun in the air, transforming into a high-speed rotating disc—the Destructo Disc.

Tien's third eye saw the astonishing cutting power carried by the disc, and for the first time, his expression changed. Not daring to take it head-on, he dodged to the side. The Destructo Disc grazed Tien's body, sliced the ring's railing behind him in two, and flew out of the arena, leaving a deep gash in the wall. "That was close..." A bead of cold sweat trickled down Tien's forehead. Had he not dodged, it might have been his own body that was sliced open. Krillin panted heavily, lacking the strength to fire a second Destructo Disc. "I give up." Krillin raised his hand and then sat down on the ground. "If I can't beat you, I can't beat you." "Contestant Krillin forfeits! The winner is contestant Tien!" Tien looked at Krillin, a flicker of complex emotion crossing his eyes. He had assumed the Turtle School disciples were all trash, but this bald kid, despite being far weaker than him, had fought until the very last moment. "What is your name?" Tien asked. "Krillin." "Krillin, I'll remember you." Tien turned and walked off the ring. "You are an opponent worthy of respect." Krillin was stunned for a moment, then grinned. "Thanks, Three-Eyes."

The third match was Son Goku against Chiaotzu. Chiaotzu hovered in mid-air, looking at Son Goku with an expressionless face. His psychic powers were formidable; he could move objects, freeze opponents, and even stop time briefly. "Little monk, just give up," Chiaotzu said. "I don't want to hurt you." "I don't want to hurt you either," Son Goku said, "but let's have a fight anyway! The match begins!" Chiaotzu struck first. He extended his hands, and an invisible force pinned Son Goku in place. "Can't move, can you?" Chiaotzu said. "This is my psychic power. Just give up." Son Goku tried to move his limbs, finding himself truly bound by a powerful force. But he didn't panic; instead, he closed his eyes, using his ki to sense Chiaotzu's position and the flow of his psychic energy. "Your psychic power is activated through ki," Son Goku said. "As long as I use my ki to sever the connection between you and me, I can break free." "What?" Chiaotzu was startled. Son Goku released his aura, and golden ki erupted from his body. Chiaotzu's psychic power collapsed instantly in the face of Son Goku's immense ki, and he was sent flying back by the backlash, tumbling through the air. "Super Saiyan?" Kashu raised an eyebrow from below—no, Son Goku hadn't transformed into a Super Saiyan, he had just used a standard burst of power. But his ki volume far exceeded Chiaotzu's, enough to scatter the psychic hold. "My turn!" Son Goku pressed his hands together. "Ka-me-ha-me-ha!" The blue beam shot toward Chiaotzu. Chiaotzu had no time to dodge and was struck by the ki wave, flying out of the ring. "Contestant Chiaotzu is out of bounds! The winner is contestant Son Goku!" The crowd cheered. A twelve-year-old boy had defeated the Crane School's psychic user. Tien watched from below, his expression turning grave. This boy named Son Goku was far stronger than Krillin.

The fourth match was Kashu against King Chappa. King Chappa was the previous champion, fifty-five years old, but his movements remained agile. His Eight-Hand Fist could deliver eight strikes in an instant, with terrifying power. "Little brat, so you're the Turtle School's Kashu?" King Chappa eyed the fourteen-year-old. "I've heard of you. You won the championship five years ago, but that was only because I didn't compete. This year, the title is mine." "Senior King Chappa, please enlighten me," Kashu bowed slightly. The match began! King Chappa moved first. His Eight-Hand Fist attacked Kashu like a torrential storm—up, down, left, right, front, back, feint, and strike; eight fist shadows enveloped Kashu's entire body. But Kashu didn't even blink. His body swayed slightly, moving through the eight fist shadows with a speed that seemed slow yet was as fast as lightning. Every punch grazed his body by a hair's breadth, not a single one landing. "How is this possible?!" King Chappa's pupils contracted. "Senior King Chappa, your Eight-Hand Fist is fast, but your ki tells me the trajectory of every punch," Kashu said. "I've already seen through it." Kashu extended his right hand and gave King Chappa's chest a gentle push. This push seemed soft, yet it contained terrifying power. King Chappa's body flew backward, tumbled in the air a few times, and landed steadily outside the ring. "Contestant King Chappa is out of bounds! The winner is contestant Kashu!"

The arena erupted in deafening cheers. One move—with only one move, Kashu had defeated the previous champion. King Chappa stood outside the ring, looking at Kashu, his eyes full of shock. "Little brat, your strength... far exceeds my imagination," King Chappa said. "The Turtle School truly lives up to its reputation." "You flatter me," Kashu bowed and walked off the ring. Three things for the new book! Please read, please add to your library, and please leave a tip!