At the system's cold pronouncement, the spectators seemed to awaken from the suffocating scene at last, then erupted into a deafening uproar!
"Are you kidding me?!"
"Just looking at the readings for Vegeta's attack on my scouter made my scalp crawl, and he couldn't even break through that guy's defenses?"
"What the hell is his body made of?!"
Inside the Royal Box, Fubuki looked utterly bewildered. She murmured, "Has that bald guy... always been this... absurd?"
Meanwhile, in the spectator stands of another dimension, the God of Destruction Beerus lost every trace of languor from his feline face for the first time, his expression turning incredibly grave.
"Whis, did you understand that?"
"Heh heh."
The Angel Whis still wore a smile, but an unusual gleam flashed through his eyes.
"Lord Beerus, I'm afraid Mr. Saitama's power doesn't fall within the framework of our dimension."
"He is like... a result, an absolutely powerful result, rather than a process achieved through training."
On the arena floor, Saitama picked his ear listlessly and glanced at Vegeta, who knelt on the ground as though his entire world had collapsed. His eyes still held their familiar dead-fish stare.
"Oh, it's over."
"The finals are next, right? Hopefully they'll be a little more interesting."
Arrogance?
No. After witnessing that incomprehensible scene, all anyone felt was a chill from the depths of their soul.
This guy really was bored!
And his opponent in the finals, the man who had been smiling all along, slowly rose from the competitors' seats.
Son Goku!
Their gazes met in midair.
One was a god of martial arts who had fought countless life-and-death battles, constantly surpassed his limits in desperate situations, and climbed step by step into the divine realm.
The other was a hero for fun, an embodiment of power who