"The final match will begin in ten minutes. Everyone may take a short break," the announcer declared.
Yet the atmosphere of the tournament did not relax because of the break. Piccolo stood in one corner of the arena, staring coldly at Son Goku. His eyes were filled with deep calculation and resolve—today's battle concerned his future.
He knew perfectly well that as long as he defeated Son Goku and became the champion of this martial arts tournament, he would be unstoppable in carrying out his plans. The ruler of Earth—his strength, intelligence, and the absolute power he was about to obtain would make him invincible.
Goku will definitely win. We can't let Piccolo get his way. Bulma looked at Goku, feeling somewhat uneasy, but she forced herself to calm down.
Krillin secretly glanced at Goku, worry filling his heart—Piccolo was simply too powerful, and the ambition behind him was even more terrifying.
Goku... you have to be careful, Krillin silently prayed.
"You'd better prepare yourself. Next, I'm going to tear you into eight pieces. Heh heh heh." Piccolo laughed coldly, his gaze as sharp as a blade as he fixed it on Goku.
"Oh? You're going to tear me into eight pieces? Then I'd better get ready." Goku smiled indifferently, clasping his hands behind his back as he spoke casually. "But you'd better be ready to play nanny. After we're done, you'll have to wipe my sweat for me."
Piccolo's expression darkened instantly. His eyes narrowed slightly as fury burned within him.
"Bastard! Who's your nanny?!" he roared furiously. The air around him seemed to freeze under the weight of his anger.
"Haha, looks like you're getting a little impatient. Don't worry, I'll go easy on you during the match." Goku spoke lightly, his eyes still carrying a provocative glint.