Despite the grueling qualifier rounds being next in line for the registered competitors of the World Martial Arts Tournament, the crowds bustled surrounding the ring where the tournament finals were meant to take place. There was no point of them standing around for a pair of hours with their snacks in hand though given how the tournament operated under the sort of early bird gets the worm type rules in terms of audience positions, everyone felt like taking the right position to observe the finals from was of golden value.
"If I might have your attention please, may all of the registered contestants of the tournament enter the stadium. The qualifier rounds will start in a few moments." a short and frail man in a turban yelled out into the microphone.
"Hey, Muten Roshi, did you bring us our uniforms?" Goku wondered, turning for his old mentor.
"What!? We weren't even sure if you guys would show up, the last thing I thought about was your uniforms…" Muten Roshi fixed his shades, looking a bit disappointed in himself for having underestimated the hunger for a competition that the bunch of martial artists who were once his pupils possessed.
"Don't you listen to that old-geezer, he ironed out your tights and got them all neatly placed on yer beds. He's a little softie at heart, ya know!" blond Launch smacked Muten Roshi at the top of his head and churned his belfry. While the facial expression of the honored martial arts master suggested a moderate amount of strain on his neck and enough pain to twist his face, the blush on his cheeks and the goofy grin betrayed what really was on his mind at that moment.
"You did that… Launch-san…" Muten Roshi hummed out.
"Oh… Did I? I guess it coulda been the other me then…" blond Launch scratched her head, abandoning harassing the elderly for a moment.
"Say, isn't it totally crazy how much Goku has grown up?" Bulma turned toward Krillin, Yamcha, and Tenshinhan. Reeling back from another inevitable strike and covering up a beaming black-eye that would take a Senzu to recover before the fighting starts, Yamcha jumped up after being looked at but Bulma's irritated eyes told him that he could have snuck out and gotten himself killed for all she cared.
"I dunno what you mean…" Krillin shrugged.
"Of course you don't…" Bulma shook her head, wrapping her fingers around her temples. "You've spent all this time with him so to you it must look natural."
"Oh… Yeah, I guess…" Krillin laughed out. "Though I'm a bit insulted you haven't noticed how much taller I've grown, Bulma…"
"Haven't any of you noticed how much taller Chi-Chi had grown? She was just a little girl the last time we met…" Yamcha tried contributing to the conversation too but it was the absolute worst thing to say at the absolute worst time. Bulma's deadly stare directed at him dismissed her previous apathy towards the dolt's life and demanded that she'd be the one to take it.
"Anyway… We've gotta go, let's go do our best!" Yamcha pumped his fists with a blush on his cheeks, trying to play the awkward situation he had unleashed off. Luckily for him, he still had a shred of dignity and charisma necessary to pull that off and the meaning behind his words did make everyone move aside from Yamcha's awkward remark.
"Ten-san, let's meet at the finals!" Chiaotzu declared without dropping his doll-like smile, turning at his companion while floating in mid-air.
"I suppose competition is meaningless if your goals aren't ambitious. Let's go for it, Chiaotzu." Tenshinhan nodded to his friend with a subtle tilt to the corners of his lips.
"Go knock 'em dead, Yamcha-san!" Puar cheered on Yamcha.
"Not literally though, huh? That'd get me disqualified!" Yamcha faked out a peal of laughter at his own joke when he noticed that nobody else paid much attention to it. Even Puar just floated about with a smile that was more a warm receptor for his friend's presence rather than a result of his grim joke.
"Remember, Goku-sa, a husband must provide for his family. You can't be a deadbeat who just rides off of his father-in-law's success, you know." Chi-Chi placed her hand on Goku's shoulder, making the young man just put his fist up and bump it at his wife's chest with a gentle nudge.
"Hey…" Bulma approached Chayote from behind while the Saiyan walked toward the stadium, having nobody to cheer on otherwise. "I heard that you were the one to collect the Ultimate Dragon Balls and everything… I just wanted to thank you."
"Oh, hey, you're Bulma, right?" Chayote pointed at the blue-haired genius, prompting a fit of rage to follow her bad joke.
"Don't you "hey, you're Bulma" me!" the young woman ground her teeth while her eyes whited out and it began to seem as if Bulma would enroll in the tournament to take a swing at Chayote herself.
"Right, right… Anyway, there's no use in thanking me. It was this Yajirobe guy who found the Ultimate Dragon Balls and you weren't brought back using them. We used them to restore the Dragon Balls with which you guys got brought back. I wasn't even there for that part…" Chayote shrugged and turned to walk away from her grateful friend.
"When we first met you six years ago, it seemed like you were a bad omen. As a natural genius, I couldn't help but see the potential threat from you. It didn't help the construction of your spaceship that I was afraid you'd return with the army of a space emperor by your side when you left Earth and you seemed like such a mean person back then but… When you really did leave, you came back in time and saved the Earth. I misjudged you, all of us did, to some extent but I really wanted to apologize for that and to thank you for all that you've done for us." Bulma insisted on being heard out.
What a bothersome broad. Didn't she know that she was around everyone and that the others could hear her talk from this close? Judging by the sudden silence that surrounded Chayote's attempts to just walk away and get ready for the qualifiers, they did hear everything that Bulma said and if their lousy smiles were of any indication – they believed it.
"No idea what got into you but… Sure, anytime." Chayote waved Bulma off.
"She must have thought that you'd fly off into space the moment this whole tournament ends so she wanted to let you know," Yamcha spoke up after approaching Chayote inside the stadium.
"If you were so understanding with her, maybe you'd still have a mate." Chayote beamed her eyes back at Yamcha, reminding him who gave him his scars during their training.
"Old-timer is such a tease… After all the training he did by himself, he didn't sign up for the tournament…" Goku stretched his arms out. He wasn't full of it, Chayote did sense a moderate increase in the old man's power level compared to where she remembered his power being, she hadn't really gotten a good sense of it before as her sensory abilities weren't that developed back then but he certainly felt stronger than he should have been.
It did seem like a waste that he didn't sign-up. This was to be their last big bash. Everything had to be thrown to the wall, Chayote wouldn't have minded facing all the weakling Earthlings she's toppled along the way one more time. Even that Chappa guy. Bacterian could stay the hell away though and, judging by the relatively tame smell of sweat in the area being the only source of stench around here, he did just that.
Being able to sense Ki did kill Chayote's excitement some. In the entirety of the qualifier stadium, there wasn't a single notable Ki signature. Everyone of note she had already met. It would make for quite boring finals this way, Goku, Chi-Chi, Yamcha, Krillin, Chiaotzu, Tenshinhan and her would all make it out without any trouble, Yajirobe would make it out too, whomever that guy tried to fool with that mask of his and an attempt to hide his presence by not talking to anyone. Maybe a weakling or two would manage to fit in through sheer luck as well…
"Chayote, Krillin…" a voice that Chayote could recall distracted her. She did note the larger than usual Ki signature though it felt like millennia away from the level of her and the rest of those that trained at the God's Temple.
"Nam, that's a surprise." Chayote exclaimed.
"Somehow I knew that you guys would compete this year. I've come to restock on food and water for my people and since I was in the vicinity, I decided to participate as well." The contestant nodded. "Who knows, maybe I'll be able to catch Goku or you by surprise by grabbing your tails again…"
Nam's eyes froze by Goku's tail-less behind. He blinked a few times in rapid succession before rubbing the back of his head enough to displace his turban, prompting the need to correct it before he could point at Goku and talk to him.
"Say, you're Goku, aren't you?" Nam pointed at the grown-up Saiyan.
"Of all people, he recognizes Goku?" Krillin rubbed the temple of his confused face with his index finger.
"Hmm? Sure am, what's up?" Goku nodded.
"I can't seem to ignore the fact that you are missing your tail," Nam pointed at something that should have been there but wasn't.
"Oh, that was because of an accident. Upa could make things out of thin air so I wondered if he could make things disappear too. He's not too good with his Kami abilities so he demuttonized my tail." Goku pointed out.
"Dematerialized." Chi-Chi corrected him, a role that she was growing accustomed to though, judging by her excitement to play this role, she just liked to be included in the conversation.
"Well, that's it then… I suppose you've got no weaknesses now," Nam chuckled to himself. "Either way, I look forward to the real competition." The martial artist then bowed to the present members of the Dragon Team and walked away closer to the stage where his group was to compete.
It was then that it felt as if though the somber mood had shattered like a wall of thin glass. It was no brick thrown by a stray bandit that shattered it, it was a concentrated laser beam outside. The fragile serenity of the meaningless hustle and bustle of the tranquil audience waiting for the competition to start was murdered and the prime clue of the grisly crime was the tirade of bone-chilling screams outside. The cracking noise of flames was soon to join in.
Nothing needed to be said, Chayote saw the fact that the rest of the Dragon Team sensed the emerging surge of malicious Ki signatures as well. These were no peaceful contestants of the tournament. These were agents of chaos looking to wreak havoc. Though as such they've chosen a curious date and time to enact their assault and begin their bloody rampage of hellish intentions. Some of the fighters felt frightened enough by all the commotion to stay indoors, that was just fine – they wouldn't have lasted a second in either the tournament or the true battle that had found the Dragon Team outside.
The sky was opening up. It had been torn asunder as if it was indeed the thing that was murdered. A grotesque and crackling with dark thunderbolts wound laid stretched out across the heavens as if the murderer had intended to spill the heaven's guts across and make them rain onto the obedient subordinates down below. Chayote knew that foul Ki, it was not a Ki she had learned to recognize but one that etched itself onto her flesh and her spirit. Carved into her body and mind with the blades of humiliation, torture, and defeat.
Demons.
"Can you sense it, Kakarot?" Chayote grunted.
"Yeah, it's Piccolo Jr., no doubt about it." Goku stared at the skies with the same amount of worry for his home planet that Chayote had for Earth's fate though instead of the innate distaste for the demonic bunch, Chayote could identify excitement. Where Chayote hated the guts of all demons for the defeat and humiliation they served her on multiple occasions, Goku saw in them only challenge beyond anything he had ever faced and he loved challenge about the same amount as he loved good food and almost the same as his own wife.
"Piccolo Jr.? It's not just Piccolo Jr. Where is all this coming from!?" Tenshinhan pointed at the massive calamity that continued to ripple and spread wide, the ground underneath their feet began to shake and crumble. There was a tremendous pull toward the gaping void that opened its dreadful jaws in the heavens and it seemed to aim to gobble the entirety of Earth to satiate that hunger.
Chayote turned to her left, racing to meet the Ki signature that had caused this entire madness to begin. It was a floating dwarf, not too much different from the way Chiaotzu operated, though he had the general appearance of demonic filth. Pale, blue skin, pointy teeth, wooden boots, and a cape. Sharp beady eyes very much alike to those of Demon King Piccolo. A murdered corpse of a man with a jarring hole in his chest, whited out eyes and blood tricked down his open mouth.
The beady eyes of this floating demon dwarf were turning red.
"Kakarot!" Chayote growled out but it was too late, the laser beam had taken Goku and flung him into the stadium where the beam had detonated, reducing the entire structure to rubble.
"Demon!" Chayote roared out, there it was again, the rage that she had dreaded back in space. That all-overwhelming sensation that just took her over and forced her to abandon all reason and charge at the enemy, no matter if they were stronger than her or not.
In her blind wrath and the need to carve the carcass of this dead demon, Chayote failed to notice three more demons rushing in from her sides, spinning around her in a combination attack like a living hurricane and throwing fists and feet while flying around her. The mad flurry of attacks helped her ease her rage some and get her body back into control. She'd have thanked those three demons had she not planned on ending them alongside every other demon in the vicinity alongside them.
"A-Amazing! She's blocking their every attack even outnumbered three-to-one." Krillin pointed out.
"No wonder, it's not like those three are much of a match for us," Tenshinhan noted.
"You're right, we've kicked the butt of Demon King Piccolo himself, he was the Demon King, these fools stand no chance." Yamcha found a root of encouragement to hold onto while he picked himself up.
The trio had attempted to close in on Chayote and grapple her but a Kiai blast sent them scattering across the Papaya Island while the Saiyan retreated back into formation with the rest of the Dragon Team. The sound of rumbling wreckage behind her informed everybody that Goku emerged from the wreckage unharmed, patting at his dirty outfit.
"Tsk… You bothersome human, don't presume to be in a position to bully the mighty Garlick Jr.!" a swampy-green shorty that looked somewhat similar to his master in appearance, except for a rather featureless, skull-like nose that made him look like an olive-colored, fur-less bat with red eyes.
"Now, now… Let's all contain our instinct to bash, carve and murder for now." A humanoid demon of periwinkle skin and pointy ears descended from that same tear in the sky, accompanied by a large group of many more demons. A pair of them stuck close by his side – a human-like woman demon of pale skin and long, pointy ears and a large, grey-skinned brute with a Viking helmet and a massive sword over his back.
White the demonlings growling and snarling behind them looked harmless to Chayote, feeling like half of a Saibaman's strength, even one of them would be enough to utterly conquer Earth so the source of absolute terror that was why it felt like it might have been a good idea to not let this slip out from Chayote's mind.
"Humans, my name is Shura. I am a demon from the Demon Realm and I have come to claim dominion over your world." The demon with long, black hair and periwinkle skin declared. He was quite captivating both in his strength and the military might he managed to put together. Although when a Namekian with a much more standard appearance to what Chayote knew Namekians to look like descended by Shura's side, closer even than his two underlings that stood by both of Shura's shoulders, the Saiyan couldn't help but keep her eyes on the absolute behemoth of power that could have only been Piccolo Jr.
"So you're the Demon King now?" Tenshinhan called out to Shura.
"That is correct. With Demon King Dabura gone for centuries and Demon King Piccolo no more – I, Shura reign as the Demon King. While my ascension to this position is less honorable than I would have liked, for I have bested neither Dabura nor Piccolo in battle, I have done what no other Demon King has done before me – I've united all the Demon Tribes and therefore I lay siege upon your realm." Shura declared, spreading his arms out wide and showing off the massive army of demons around him.
"Piccolo… How did you escape the Room of Spirit and Time!?" Goku pointed at the silent Namekian dread that continued to give the Earthlings and Saiyans responsible for the end of his predecessor and his origin intense stares.
"There is more than one exit to the Room of Spirit and Time. You humans wouldn't know that, but there is an exit and a temple for each separate dimension connecting this universe. This young successor of Demon King Piccolo, the previous Demon King, has found the exit to our Demon Realm a few years ago and, given his legacy, I felt responsible to train him and if Mera is my right hand and Gora is my left hand, Piccolo Jr. is the blade of my punishment." Shura looked to Piccolo Jr. with a combination of respectful fear as well as kinship.
"You're right, I don't think I get it…" Goku scratched his head before allowing himself to get serious for a moment. "Are you fine with that though?" Goku turned to Piccolo. "You're way, way stronger than him, you know. You're fine with him treating you as his subject and telling you what to do?"
"Since Demon King Piccolo became one with Kami before his death, his reincarnation is forever bound to Kami's heart. As such, his heart is too wicked to ever become Kami and too godly to ever become a true Demon. He is fated to never be a Demon King like his predecessor. It is Shura's mercy that gave Piccolo's life meaning in the first place." Mera, the female demon by Shura's side answered for her master.
"I'm bored. All this talking is too confusing. I want to kill…" Gora, the oversized brute by Shura's left, behind Piccolo Jr. looked down at his master.
"Very well, I will get to the point then. All you pathetic humans can flee for your lives. My interests rely solely on those of you gathered on this island to fight. The strongest that humans can muster up in terms of resistance, I intend to destroy you. Publically, in front of the people you will serve as champions for so that those I rule over get no bright ideas of trying to resist their dark fate. Back in the Demon Realm, we tend to settle issues in a similar manner – one on one combat. For that reason, invading during the time of this tournament of yours just deemed fitting." Shura explained.
"So what you're saying is that I'll be forced to kill all of you one at a time?" Chayote grumbled out.
"You don't really have a choice. Defeating all of our generals in this tournament is the only way for you to avoid casualties and widespread destruction. If you can defeat us, I will withdraw back to my Demon Realm, my rule at that point would not be a lengthy one but alas, I would not stand much chance ruling over a race more powerful than Demons anyway." Shura answered.
"Okay, so I guess we know what your deal is, obviously, Piccolo Jr. is here for revenge too… But what's that guy's business?" Krillin pointed at Garlick Jr. He raised a fair point, the blue dwarf looked like he was fairly important in the demonic hierarchy too, about as powerful as Shura himself, yet he was neither a Demon King nor did he declare such aspirations.
"When we kill you, maggots, I, Garlick Jr. will become the new Kami of Earth. The position my father was cheated out from by the last Kami!" Garlick Jr. clenched a fist while sneering at Krillin with enough murderous intent to force the baldy onto a back foot.
"Well then, seeing how this pathetic show is no longer about mere martial arts, nor does it cover just one world anymore, I suppose we should call it something different too?" Shura lifted off the ground alongside his subjects and generals and began looming over the humans, cowering and defying alike, as the entirety of the demonic horde moved into the territory of the tournament finals. "Gora, any bright ideas?"
"I don't like thinking up names, I like smashing!" Gora grumbled with a husky tone.
"Perhaps the Tournament of Doom?" Mera suggested.
"Ah, yes… I suppose that does have a ring to it, as well as a certain prophetic significance of the fate foreshadowed to mankind in our hands. I like it." Shura nodded before landing in the center of the ring. "Let the Tournament of Doom begin then!"