The 22nd Martial Arts Tournament

The wind in West City carried a faint salty tang as the dome atop Capsule Corporation headquarters silently split open to either side.

The scorching airflow churned as a silver-gray, teardrop-shaped spaceship settled smoothly onto the lawn, its deep engine roar shattering the yard's afternoon stillness.

The hatch opened.

Bulma, dressed in a short-sleeved top, hot pants, and white sneakers, was the first to hop down the ramp. She stretched lazily and took a deep breath. After spending more than half a year in space, only when her feet touched Earth's soil did her heart finally settle.

Heavy footsteps came from the shadows inside the hatch.

Thud! Thud!

A burly man over two meters tall, with hair that fell past his knees, emerged carrying two large metal cases.

The gardener robot trimming the bushes flashed its red light wildly and immediately let out a piercing alarm.

That man's gaze was far too fierce. Even though he was deliberately holding himself back, the aura that clashed so completely with the peaceful surroundings still made the grass around him tremble faintly.

Mrs. Brief came out of the house carrying a tray of freshly baked cookies. Seeing the menacing figure in the yard, she was not frightened at all. Instead, her eyes lit up.

"Bulma, did you hire such a manly bodyguard from another planet?" Mrs. Brief asked with a smile as she walked over and held out the tray. "Big guy, want a cookie?"

Raditz's entire body stiffened.

His eyes turned cold, and he was just about to lash out when he caught sight, from the corner of his eye, of the black-haired young man walking down from the ship behind him. The killing intent all over him was instantly doused like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over it, forcibly stuck in his throat.

"Th... thank you."

The Saiyan warrior who had once strode unhindered through the universe now moved like a rusty machine. Stiffly, he picked up a cookie and shoved it into his mouth, chewing as though he were gnawing wood.

Seeing Raditz look like he was about to suffer internal injuries from holding it in, Son Goku could not help laughing.

"Alright, Raditz. Put the things down, then go back to training in the underground gravity chamber," Son Goku said casually.

Raditz felt as though he had been pardoned. He set down the cases and hurried into the Capsule Corporation complex without looking back.

Half a month later.

Papaya Island, the Twenty-Second World Martial Arts Tournament.

The registration hall was packed inside and out. Under a coconut tree in one corner of the plaza, Krillin rubbed his bald head and stood on tiptoe to look around. Beside him, Yamcha tossed a coin in the air with a relaxed expression.

Master Roshi, wearing a floral shirt and sunglasses, was staring intently at the legs of girls walking past.

"Goku isn't going to miss registration, is he?" Krillin asked anxiously, practically hopping in place. "After winning the championship three years ago, he ran off with Bulma and disappeared."

"Relax. With his personality, he'll definitely come," Yamcha said, catching the coin he had tossed. "I've been wanting to let him see the results of my three years of hard training in the ring."

"Then you might get eliminated in the first round again."

A smiling voice came from behind them.

Krillin and Yamcha jolted, then whirled around.

Son Goku stood calmly several steps away, dressed in a well-tailored casual outfit. Bulma had her arm linked through his, looking radiant.

Goku had grown much taller and shed the boyishness of the past. He stood there quietly, yet seemed to blend seamlessly into the air around him, without a single opening.

"Goku?!" Krillin cried out.

Master Roshi took off his sunglasses and leaned closer, looking him up and down in amazement.

"Good kid, it's only been three years, and this old man can barely recognize you!" Master Roshi's gaze sharpened.

"Master Roshi!" Son Goku greeted him.

"Since you're here, hurry up and register. The deadline's almost here!" Yamcha urged.

"I'm not competing this time. I'm just here to watch." Son Goku stepped aside.

"Still, I brought someone here to register. I'll introduce him to you all while I'm at it."

Everyone's eyes turned in unison toward a spot more than ten meters away.

Under a streetlamp stood a tall man leaning against it. Everyone had been focused on Son Goku just now, and no one had noticed there was another person standing there.

Once they saw Raditz's build, the atmosphere beneath the coconut tree abruptly froze.

Raditz had changed into an Earth martial arts uniform. His exaggerated muscles looked like rock cast over his skeleton. With his arms folded across his chest, he coldly swept his gaze over this group of martial artists with power levels around one hundred.

Even though he had locked all of his energy inside his body, the scent of someone who had crawled out from mountains of corpses and seas of blood still made Krillin's back prickle.

"G-Goku..." Cold sweat streamed down Krillin's face as he instinctively took a defensive stance. "Who is he? That presence... he's more than ten times scarier than Jackie Chun from the last tournament!"

The relaxed look on Yamcha's face vanished completely, his muscles tensing.

Raditz snorted and strode over.

Looking at these Earthlings as though they were facing a deadly enemy, he bared his teeth in a cruel smile. Even if Son Goku had beaten him into submission, he was still an arrogant Saiyan to the core.

"I'm Kakarot's older brother," Raditz said arrogantly.

"Kakarot?" Krillin looked utterly confused.

"Kakarot is my real name. He's Raditz, my biological older brother," Son Goku explained to everyone.

"Your biological older brother?!"

Krillin and Yamcha's jaws nearly hit the floor. Aside from their hairstyles, the two of them did not resemble each other in the slightest.

"Alright, go sign up." Son Goku pulled out a completed registration form and stuffed it into Raditz's hand.

After leading Raditz through registration, Son Goku called him over to a secluded corner beside the hall.

"Kakarot, you're really not competing?" Raditz frowned tightly as he looked at the number tag in his hand. "You want me to fight these Earthlings with power levels under two hundred? One punch from me could kill someone."

"I had you sign up to experience martial arts, not to play butcher. Listen carefully to what I'm about to say." Son Goku's smile vanished, and his gaze turned cold.

"For this tournament, you are not allowed to use ki at any point. Use it to see what you've gained over the past few months."

Raditz's eyes widened. "Even without ki, my physical body alone is beyond anything they can match!"

"Don't talk big!" Son Goku said bluntly. "You may have improved a little these past few months, but deep down, you still fight like a brute who relies on overwhelming force. Earth's martial arts are refined in technique and skilled at borrowing an opponent's strength against them. You might just capsize here."

He tapped a finger against Raditz's chest.

"Observe carefully in the ring. Learn to break down techniques with the least amount of effort. If I sense you powering up in the ring..."

Son Goku's tone remained calm. "The moment the tournament ends, I'll throw you into a hundred-times gravity chamber and train you hard for a month."

Raditz shuddered uncontrollably.

"What? Can't do it?"

Raditz took a deep breath, a fierce glint flashing through his pupils.

"I can! I'll show them that even with this body alone, Saiyans are still the strongest in the universe!"

Watching Raditz stride toward the competition area, Son Goku nodded.

It was time to give Earth's martial artists just a tiny bit of pressure!