At a nameless frontier, a massive airship hovered in the sky.
This airship was unlike ordinary vessels. Mysterious symbols adorned its exterior, as though it were an emissary from another world.
Inside the airship, a mysterious figure in black robes sat on a uniquely shaped skull chair. His skin was an unusual, glistening green, and two slender antennae grew from his head. A large, conspicuously embroidered character for "demon" on his chest revealed his extraordinary identity: King Piccolo.
Beside him stood a crow-man. Though small in stature, the shrewdness and vigilance in his eyes made him impossible to underestimate.
"So that's how it works!" King Piccolo murmured to himself, his voice filled with wonder and satisfaction at some great discovery.
"If I gather all seven, any wish can come true?" King Piccolo asked slowly, a hint of inquiry in his voice.
Hearing this, Pilaf beside him gave a few dry chuckles, trying to ease the tension. "That's right. Of course, Your Majesty, I imagine your wish is to conquer the entire world?" he asked tentatively, rubbing his hands together, his gaze shifting uncertainly.
"Heh, heh, heh... I have no need to borrow the power of those balls to conquer the world." The black-robed King Piccolo shook his head gently, a confident yet mysterious smile curling his lips, as though the entire world lay within his grasp.
"Then what do you want?" Pilaf asked curiously, a searching gleam flashing through his eyes.
King Piccolo's gaze suddenly grew deep, and he began slowly:
"What I want is an immortal life. Immortality, a youthful body that will never age. As long as I can obtain that, this world will remain under my rule forever."
Hearing this, Pilaf burst into laughter. "Ahahaha... Your Majesty truly has foresight." He laughed awkwardly, embarrassment flickering in his eyes, seemingly wanting to change the subject.
"There's one other thing..." Pilaf suddenly grew somewhat uneasy, his voice slightly tense.
"What is it?" King Piccolo asked impatiently, displeasure flashing through his eyes.
"This humble servant endured a thousand hardships to find the rice cooker that sealed you away, Your Majesty, revive you once more, and even tell you the secret of the Dragon Balls..." Pilaf spoke with utmost care, while his two companions were so frightened that their faces turned ashen, neither daring to make a sound.
"What exactly are you trying to say?" A trace of icy severity in King Piccolo's voice sent chills down their spines.
"No, actually, it's not... it's nothing important." Pilaf hurriedly waved his hands. He and his two companions denied it over and over in fright, inwardly grumbling that they had really brought disaster upon themselves this time.
"It's just that after you conquer the world, Your Majesty, if you could just..." Pilaf said, rubbing his hands and chuckling dryly, a barely perceptible trace of greed mingling with his voice.
"What is it?" King Piccolo's voice was deep and powerful, as though it came from beneath the earth, sending chills down their spines.
"If you could give me half the world, then... ahahaha..."
Pilaf tried to disguise his ambition with humor, but the further he spoke, the more awkward his laughter became.
He suddenly noticed King Piccolo's blade-sharp gaze fixed firmly on him. A chill instantly rose up his spine, and he hurriedly added.
"Also, I was the one who told you about the World Martial Arts Tournament, Your Majesty... if you could give me a third of the world..."
Before he had finished speaking, Pilaf's forehead was already covered in cold sweat.
"What?" King Piccolo's voice grew even colder.
"No, no, I'd be satisfied with a quarter."
Pilaf hurriedly corrected himself, his voice full of pleading. His legs unconsciously carried him backward, as though he were ready at any moment to flee this terrifying place.
King Piccolo fell silent, his abyss-like eyes fixed on Jielafu, as though he meant to see straight through him.
Pilaf felt an unprecedented pressure, his heart filled with fear and unease.
Under this oppressive weight, he hurriedly changed his tune, saying in a trembling voice, "It's fine if it isn't that much, Your Majesty."
As he spoke, he kept backing away, the fear in his heart growing with every step.
He inwardly grumbled about why he had ended up in such a predicament. Facing King Piccolo, he felt a helplessness unlike anything he had ever known.
At last, King Piccolo spoke, saying mildly, "I'll consider it."
"Yes, that's all. I leave everything in your hands!"
As though clutching at a life-saving straw, Pilaf hurriedly nodded and bowed, his face full of flattery.
"By the way, has Tambourine still not arrived?" King Piccolo abruptly changed the subject, breaking the stifling atmosphere.
He sat in the spacious command chair, looking past the console ahead, seemingly searching for something.
"Yes!"
Hearing this, Pilaf felt as though he had been pulled back from the edge of a cliff, and hurriedly turned toward Xiao Wu.
Xiao Wu immediately caught Jielafu's look and, understanding his meaning, ran lightly toward the console.
As Xiao Wu pressed a button, a display appeared inside the airship, showing a point of light moving toward them.
As Xiao Wu's nimble finger pressed a raised button, a display inside the airship immediately lit up.
On the screen, a bright point of light was slowly moving toward their location.
"He's flying this way without any trouble," Xiao Wu reported softly, a barely perceptible hint of tension in her voice.
"He should be here soon."
Pilaf picked up the conversation, trying to find some comfort amid the delicate atmosphere. "But why do you want the World Martial Arts Tournament's register?"
His words were cautious, as though he feared touching some sensitive nerve.
"Hmm? What did you say?" King Piccolo's voice suddenly rang out. Resting his face on his hand, he lazily raised his eyes to look at Jielafu.
An almost imperceptible sharpness seemed hidden in that gaze, making it impossible to meet directly.
Pilaf and the others broke out in cold sweat, inwardly grumbling that this Demon King's presence was simply too overwhelming.
King Piccolo, however, seemed unconcerned by their fear. His gaze shifted to the rice cooker beside him, his tone filled with disdain and fury.
"Martial artists... sealing me inside this strange thing with some inexplicable, bizarre spell. Damn them!" White light suddenly flashed in his eyes, and the rice cooker exploded in an instant, as though the rage suppressed in his heart had finally found an outlet.
"I'll send every last martial artist to hell, one by one." King Piccolo's voice was icy, filled with unquestionable resolve, as though his hatred had already reached its limit and needed only a touch to erupt.
Pilaf and the others exchanged looks. Though their hearts were filled with confusion and fear over King Piccolo's plan, they could only force themselves to remain calm and answer in trembling voices, "Th-then please do your best!"
"I found you!"