The golden speck of light at his fingertip shot forward.
No charging up, no opening stance, not even an extra expression.
An extremely thin beam of golden light left Goten's index finger, silently crossed the three-hundred-meter difference in height, passed through the flying rubble and dust, and pierced the scarlet eye on the giant beast's forehead.
In through the chest, out through the back.
The black liquid armor was supposedly a hundred times harder than tempered steel. When the golden beam struck it, it was like poking through tofu, without the slightest sign of slowing down.
The beast froze in place, all four legs still poised in a desperate retreat, the last light in its scarlet eye rapidly fading.
"Minimalist Kamehameha."
Goten withdrew his finger and gently blew away the nonexistent smoke at its tip.
"Using this on a brainless piece of trash like you is practically giving you a proper funeral."
Golden cracks spread outward from the point of penetration across the beast's body. Huge chunks of black armor peeled away, vaporizing into smoke on contact with the air before a single drop of black water could reach the ground.
Less than ten seconds.
That behemoth ten times larger than the Nine-Tails, its silhouette broader than a mountain range, was erased completely from the world.
No explosion, no shock wave, not even a puff of dust.
As though it had never existed.
Trunks stood beside him, tapping the sole of one slipper against the top of his other foot, looking utterly done with life.
"That's it?"
"I flew four hundred kilometers all this way, and I didn't even get warmed up. If I'd known this thing was so fragile, I might as well have stayed home and helped Dad scrub pots."
Goten ignored him.
His gaze fell on the