Meanwhile, at the World Martial Arts Tournament.
With more than half the contestants suddenly leaving, the competition had to be suspended temporarily.
The organizing committee was discussing how to proceed with the remaining matches.
Mr. Satan took the opportunity to make the rounds, hoping to find someone willing to discuss throwing their match against him.
His first targets were, of course, the three remaining Saiyans.
Although one had been eliminated, three of the four Saiyans, including Raditz, were still in the running.
Mr. Satan sneaked into their lounge, greeted them with a fawning smile, and explained why he had come.
But Raditz kicked him straight out of the lounge.
"Are you kidding me? Do you think you can buy our Saiyan pride? Get lost! Or I'll wipe you out myself!"
Undeterred by his initial setback, Mr. Satan was about to try someone else when members of the organizing committee suddenly approached him.
"Mr. Satan! We have good news! We've just decided that the remaining matches will be replaced by a battle royal. The last person standing will be this tournament's champion!"
"What do you think, Mr. Satan? Isn't that exciting? I'm sure the other contestants will team up to challenge you, our savior, first. It'll be an incredible spectacle!"
"Hahaha! A true champion has nothing to fear!" Mr. Satan planted his hands on his hips and laughed boldly.
In private, however, snot was streaming from his nose.
Oh, Mom!
I'm done for!
I could have worked something out with one-on-one matches. After all, I only had to fight in the final. I could have just bribed whoever made it there.
Now that it's suddenly a battle royal, how am I supposed to bribe everyone?
I'm dead for sure!
They're going to beat me to death!
"W-well... my stomach..."
Mr. Satan