The Wind Rises for Battle

Chen Hao's gaze drifted past those beside him and settled lightly on that patch of blue not far away.

Android 18 stood there, the faint blush on her face lasting only an instant before vanishing like a breeze had brushed it away.

She turned her face aside, her long hair swaying in the wind.

"Alright."

He took a deep breath, a scorching current rising in his chest.

Chen Hao turned to face Cell. The guy was busy healing his wounds, while Chen Hao let his hands hang casually at his sides, air currents surging around his knuckles.

His eyes were sharp, and there was a warrior's pride in his voice as he said coldly, "Now it's just the two of us."

The wind suddenly picked up, sweeping dust and broken stones into the air, as though heaven and earth themselves had held their breath in anticipation of this battle.

Cell slowly straightened, cracking sounds coming from behind him like the meshing gears of an old clock.

He raised his right hand and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, staining his fingertip dark red.

He stared at Chen Hao. Those eyes were like a deep pool, so cold that a sudden heaviness settled in Cell's heart.

He had not felt this way in a long time. It was somewhat like the shiver he had felt as a child, still inside his eggshell, when he heard that thunderous explosion outside—but that gravity lasted only three seconds.

Cell's lips curled up again into his trademark snide smile, mocking and arrogant. "You think hurting me means you can win?"

His voice was low, yet it sliced through the air like a blade. "I admit you're strong—stronger than most opponents I've faced—but you're far too confident."

As he spoke, his fist had already clenched tight, his knuckles cracking as his muscles swelled like coiled snakes.

Chen Hao did not acknowledge Cell at all.

He did not even glance sideways. His gaze merely rested on the distance—the direction Son Goku had left in.

Ruins, smoke, and a few lingering wisps of dust on the horizon.

"Hey, what are you looking at?!"

Cell's voice suddenly rose, furious and shrill like a taut string snapping. "I'm the one you're facing!"

He stomped down hard, shattering the ground as rocks and dust blasted skyward.

His figure flickered, so fast it seemed space itself had been torn apart—in 0.3 seconds, he crossed a hundred meters and appeared directly before Chen Hao, his right fist wrapped in force powerful enough to pulverize mountains as it smashed toward Chen Hao's face.

The impact boomed, turning the air into visible white mist. Energy ripples spread outward, and the sand and stones on the ground were forced rolling backward by the shockwave.

The punch was so fast that Trunks and Piccolo could barely follow it.

Trunks' eyes widened, his pupils contracting as he saw only a streak of light before the crushing wind pressure erupted.

Piccolo clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as cold sweat beaded on his forehead—he knew that if that punch came at him, he would not even have time to react.

But—

"Smack—"

A crisp sound rang out, like a child slapping water.

Everyone's pupils contracted, their hearts seeming to stop.

Chen Hao casually raised his right hand, his five fingers slightly spread. The entire movement was slow, as though he were swatting away a mosquito.

Just like that, his palm met Cell's fist head-on.

There was no explosion, no energy backlash—only that single "smack."

Like a water droplet falling into a still lake.

Cell's fist was firmly caught in Chen Hao's hand.

At the point of contact, all energy vanished in an instant, like wild beasts having their throats seized.

Cell's face froze at once, his arrogance twisting into stunned disbelief.

He felt as though his fist had struck an invisible mountain—no, something heavier and steadier than a mountain.

It was nothing like anything he had experienced before, as though an entire planet were pressing down upon it.

His arm trembled, his muscles spasming as veins bulged beneath his skin.

He desperately drove his energy, trying to push his fist forward even a single millimeter, but Chen Hao's hand did not budge, as though it had been nailed into the void.

The ground beneath Cell's feet cracked inch by inch, rock crumbling into powder, but his fist still could not move.

Whether he tried to retreat or pull back his fist, it was useless. He could not shift it at all.

His breathing grew ragged, sweat sliding down his face.

"H-How is this possible?"

Cell's voice finally trembled with fear, almost forced out through clenched teeth.

His pupils shook violently as he stared fixedly at Chen Hao's face, as if he had seen something beyond imagination—that calmness, that indifference, like an adult casually holding down a desperately struggling infant.

Piccolo's eyes shrank sharply as he breathed hard, his chest heaving. "He hasn't transformed! He hasn't even transformed! That's Cell—the one I could barely handle at full strength!"

"This is insane..." Trunks muttered, cold sweat covering his forehead. "Even Dad in Super Saiyan was beaten into the hospital, and Cell absorbed my father's cells, yet he's being suppressed like a child."

He unconsciously tightened his grip on his sword hilt, his hand still trembling.

Only Android 18 remained calm, arms folded across her chest, a faint smile curling at the corner of her lips.

She had long since grown used to Chen Hao's strength—the overwhelming power that could disregard all rules.

"Impossible! Impossible!"

Cell roared, his voice laced with madness and unwillingness.

He gritted his teeth and threw out his other fist. His muscles bulged as though they were about to burst through his skin, and the punch shot straight toward Chen Hao.

The force of the punch swept up gravel from the ground, carving a sharp arc through the air.

Chen Hao remained expressionless. He did not even raise an eyelid.

He merely flicked his hand backward, casually, as if shooing away an annoying fly.

Cell's entire body was yanked away by an immense force and hurled through the air like a kite with its string cut.

Cell spun wildly several times in midair, completely unable to control himself.

At last, he crashed into the ground with a thunderous boom. Dust and shattered stones flew everywhere, a huge crater forming beneath him as cracks spread outward like a spiderweb.

"I told you."

Chen Hao slowly walked toward Cell, his pace unhurried. His feet crunched softly over the rubble.

His voice was calm, as though discussing the weather. "In your current state, you are not worthy of being my opponent."

There was even a hint of boredom in his eyes, as if this battle had never held any suspense from the very beginning.

Cell struggled to his feet from the pile of rubble, his arms covered in dirt and blood, his breathing in complete disarray.

At last, fear appeared in his eyes—the kind that came from the depths of the soul.

Even his legs began to tremble, cold sweat soaking through his back.

At that moment, Cell truly understood the gap in their strength—this was not the evenly matched battle he had imagined, nor was it a fight to the death. It was absolute, utter domination.

Like an ant looking up at a giant's foot.