Dragon Ball Z: Dynasty
Written by: Feraligreater328 and StevenBodner
Edited by: StevenBodner and SparkerLightning
A/N: Hey everybody! Happy New Year! Bit of a short chapter this week, but that's intentional. I didn't want to divide up what I have planned for this arc in ways that feel unsatisfying. But don't worry, I guarantee that the rest of the chapters throughout all of this will be closer to normal length!
Chapter 107: A New Tournament
5 months after the Cell Games, Feast Day, Mr. Satan's House...
Mr. Satan and Videl both danced around one another as they set the table for their Feast Day Dinner. This was a special event, with Miguel requesting that it just be the three of them. The poor, sickly woman had grown quite nostalgic for family intimacy over the past month. Rather than setting out their expensive china, Videl set out the plates that they had used before her mother and father had gained fame and fortune. She looked down at the pink, plastic plate that she had eaten so many TV dinners off of when she was really little and smiled. "Mommy's gonna love this~!"
Mr. Satan nodded. "Yeah. She sure will sweetie..."
Videl frowned, looking up at her noticeably unanimated father. "Is everything okay, Daddy?"
Mr. Satan sighed. "I'm fine, sugar-beet. Just...thinkin'..."
Videl was curious. "'Bout what?"
Mr. Satan scratched his head. "I-"
One of the chefs from the kitchen walked in, wearing his evening coat and carrying his bag. "So sorry to intrude, Mr. Satan, I just wanted to let you know that we've finished all of the food. It's sitting in dishes in the kitchen waiting for you to set the table however you'd like. A-Are you sure you don't want us to stick around, sir?"
Mr. Satan shook his head. "Nah. You've all earned a nice, early day and a weekend off even more so. Happy Feast Day."
The chef smiled and nodded. "Thank you kindly, Mr. Satan."
He turned and nodded to the precocious little girl. "Miss Videl."
She giggled and nodded back. After the chef left, Mr. Satan turned to his kid. "Okay, Videl. You go get your mother. I'll start carryin' the food in from the kitchen."
Videl nodded. "Yes sir!"
As she ran off, Mr. Satan called after her. "Be gentle! Your mother is fragile!"
Once Videl was out of earshot, Mr. Satan's face sank. He crumpled into one of the dining room chairs, deep bags under his eyes. He groaned and reached into his jacket, pulling out an envelope containing a speech he had just wrote earlier in the day. He scanned the front of the envelope, reading the ink that had not yet even dried on the surface: "My Confession".
Earlier that morning...
Mark groaned and woke up, sitting up on the couch that had served as his bed for nearly a year and cringing as his spine popped. Looking over at his bed, the bed that he and Miguel had chosen together so long ago after her first single hit Number 1 on the charts, Mark let loose a nostalgic sigh. Hopefully, now that he had all of this extra money and fame, it wouldn't be too much longer before he could bust up those machines and share a loving embrace with his wife once more.
Mark got up and slipped his feet into his slippers, walking through the labyrinth of buzzing technology and trying his best not to trip on any cords. As he walked, and thought more on his recently enhance fame, Mark began to delve into a place that he had been going more and more lately.
He pictured the face of that Goku guy, giving up a sure win for the sake of sparing Mark from death. He pictured that older guy in the bandana, facing down Cell when he knew he didn't have a chance. He pictured that boy, his poor mind shattering from the pressure and the primal scream of pain he let loose. These visions had haunted Mark every day since he had taken credit for killing Cell. How could he call himself a martial artist when he had basically spat on the pride of those noble men?
Gently, Mark reached out and gave his wife a shake. "Miguel..."
No response. Mark sighed. Miguel had been exhausted since her trip to the recording studio mere days earlier. They didn't want her to go, but she said there was something she needed to record straight away. Mark shook her again. "Hey, Miguel..."
The woman turned in bed, her eyes barely cracking open. She smiled weakly, but warmly at her husband. But then, that smile became a frown. "What's wrong...?"
Mark flinched. "Wh-What do you mean?"
Miguel's voice was barely above a whisper. And it was clear, as she spoke, that she was struggling to take a breath even with the oxygen mask on her face. "Mark, honey, people...some people wear their heart on their sleeve...you wear yours on your face..."
She quietly chuckled, but that only caused her face to cringe in pain. She looked up at him. "Tell me...what's been bothering you...lately...?"
Mark, himself, spoke quietly. He looked away from Miguel's sparkling, hopeful blue eyes and spoke in a tone dripping with shame. "M-Miguel...I..."
She closed her eyes. "The Cell Games? Is that what this is about...?"
Mark flinched. Miguel nodded. "I thought so. You..."
She let loose a single cough, but that was enough to rock her entire body. Miguel groaned in pain, clenching her chest, but then continued to speak. "...you didn't really kill Cell, did you?"
Mark was taken aback. "H-How did you know?!"
Miguel weakly smiled. "Mark, I've known you for over a decade now. Y-You're the strongest person I know...but that monster was way out of your league..."
As before, Miguel weakly chuckled. And Mark joined her. Her biting, but gentle jabs had always made him laugh. Once they both finished laughing, however, Mark's frown returned. He buried his face in his hands. "I'm a fraud, Miguel. I stole the credit for killing that thing. And I stole it from a kid, no less. I'm..."
Miguel didn't bother to let him finish that criticism. "You're flawed, Mark. That doesn't make you a bad person. That makes you a... a human person. L-Look at the monster...it called itself perfect and...it was the most...most evil thing since King Piccolo..."
Mark trembled. "But I lied. I stole the credit. I've shamed myself. And I've shamed you and Videl by association. And...and if I reveal the truth, then you might leave me and-"
Miguel's hand shot up, grabbing one of Mark's and squeezing it tight. He looked down at her and she looked up at him. And then, with strength and resolve that her sickly body had not shown in months, Miguel spoke. "I would never leave you. Ever. No matter what, our hearts are bound together forever. Do you understand me, Mark?"
Mark struggled for the words, looking down at the woman whom had he fallen for so long ago. The mother of his child. And then, wordlessly, he bowed his head to her. Miguel smiled. "You're not a bad person, my love. You stood up to that monster to save that boy's life. You...even if just a little bit...gave him the hope he needed to keep fighting. You might not be a monster slayer, but you're still a hero in my eyes...and I know that you always do the right thing in the end~"
Miguel sighed, collapsing back onto the bed. "I know that we're supposed to keep me on a schedule of when to get out of bed everyday...but would it be too much trouble if I slept until dinner? I'm...I'm so tired, Mark..."
Mark nodded., adopting a small smile "'Course not. You just have a nice rest and we'll take care of dinner."
Miguel closed her eyes and Mark began to carefully back out through the labyrinth of machines. Miguel spoke one more time. "I love you, Mark..."
Mark responded. "I love you too, Miguel."
Back in the present...
Mr. Satan stared down at the confession speech that he had penned and let loose a long sigh. After dinner with Miguel and Videl, he was due to come to King Furry's castle to give a speech to his adoring public. Unfortunately, that would be where Mr. Satan would die.
It would be hard at first. They'd probably lose quite a bit. They might even have to go into hiding to escape the furious public, but the three of them would survive. Miguel's royalties from her music could support them for a while. And, in the meantime, Mark could get a job doing security work or even bagging groceries if he had to. It would be hard...but as long as they had one another, everything would work out.
Little footsteps echoed down the hallway and Mark turned to see his daughter standing there, a confused and terrified look on her face. Mark stood. "What's wrong, Videl?"
Videl spoke in a trembling voice. "Daddy...I can't get Mommy to wake up..."
1 month later, Christmas Eve, Gyosan Mane Island, Cash Tower...
Cruise ships full of people pulled into the recently-named Gyosan Mane Island, a massive sporting arena built for a specific purpose. One of the richest men on Earth, X.S. Cash, wore a lot of hats. One of those was being the owner of the biggest record label on Earth. And, today, he was doing his part to honor the life of one of his highest earning talents: the world-famous pop idol, Miguel.
The ships pulled in to the various ports, filled with a mixture of grieving Miguel fans and Mr. Satan supporters wanting to show their World Champion support. After all, how could they just leave the great Cell Slayer to mourn when they could gather round and cheer him on?
Everyone on the island was gathered for two scheduled events. First, a martial arts tournament was being held in honor of Miguel. The woman had always had a passionate love of martial arts, having met her beloved husband at a martial arts tournament in South City. Fighters had been encouraged to enter the tournament from all around the globe so that they may compete for the pleasure of sharing a fight with four of Miguel's all-time favorite martial artists. And then, once all but one had been defeated, that remaining fighter would go on to share a match against Mr. Satan himself.
The second event, to occur after the exhibition against Mr. Satan, would be the debut of Miguel's last ever song. Recorded the day before the beloved idol died, it was sure to be some of her best and most memorable work!
X.S. Cash looked over the island, watching as distraught Miguel fans poured into the various stores and bought as much memorabilia as they could. He let loose a lighthearted chuckle. "I'm sure Miguel would be pleased that we are turning such a profit~"
One of the cameramen behind the wealthy mogul spoke up. "Mr. Cash, sir, we're going live in 10."
X.S. Cash turned and smile wide at the camera. Once the broadcasting light flickered on, he let loose a hearty chuckle and bellowed out. "Welcome, my friends, to Gyosan Mane Island! An island set up by the X.S. Cash Foundation to hold a festival in honor of a once-in-a-lifetime talent! Please, feel free to enjoy all of the Miguel related attractions in order to celebrate the life of our beloved idol! Do not forget, in section 6B, they are currently running a photo op session with an interactive Miguel hologram! If you never had the honor of meeting her in person, this event will give you the chance to live out your deeply-held fantasies with Miguel for the low, low price of 150,000 zeni!"
X.S. Cash turned to Mr. Satan, standing next to him and clearly in full-character. "Mr. Satan, anything to add?"
Mr. Satan puffed out his chest. "The world has truly lost an angel this year. In spite of my heroic victory over that monster Cell, even the great Mr. Satan is unable to fight against something as cowardly as a virus! But me and my daughter are strong! We're here today to honor the life of our beloved family matriarch and show her that we're going to carry her flame on for the rest of our lives!"
As Mr. Satan cackled, X.S. Cash nodded. "A truly passionate speech, Mr. Satan. Now, let us see if Videl has anything to add~"
Mr. Satan flinched. "Wha-"
And then, the camera turned to Videl. Poor, small Videl. She sat there, next to an overly cheerful brat similar to her in age, looking utterly miserable. X.S. Cash spoke again. "I'm sorry, Videl, let me ask again. Do you have anything to say in regard to the passing of your mother~?"
Videl was unresponsive, her blue eyes a dull, stormy gray. She had a pair of headphones cupped over her ears as she stared, teary-eyed, down at a music player firmly gripped in her hand. A single tear streaked down Videl's cheek and landed on the music player, displaying the cover of Miguel's Serenades of the Summer album. These albums were all the poor girl had left of her mother.
Mr. Satan stared with pity over at his daughter. X.S. Cash, meanwhile, simply looked flustered at being ignored. "Perhaps, we will hear from young Videl later. For now, everyone please enjoy this celebration of a once-in-a-lifetime talent and don't forget, the Miguel Memorial Classic will begin in three hours~! And get excited, ladies and gents, because the winner gets one million zeni!""
Gyosan Mane Island, Spectator Plaza...
The various broadcast screens went dark for a moment, and then a Miguel music video began to play. As everyone went about their business, frantically purchasing Miguel merchandise and openly mourning and singing along with her songs, a certain group of people made their way through the crowd.
Chi-Chi looked annoyed, glaring around as her father, the Ox-King, pushed a stroller containing Goten and Chika behind her. "Look at all of this. This is so...excessive..."
Bulma, visibly pregnant and holding onto the end of a baby leash, sighed. "The dangers of being famous, Chi-Chi. This is why, when I die, I'm having my body frozen until Vegeta dies and then we're going to be blasted into space together."
The baby leash went taught and Bulma shouted. "Trunks! No! We don't steal things from other people's bags!"
Baby Trunks grumbled, he tossed a limited-edition Miguel bust onto the ground, shattering it apart to the horror of the owner. Bulma didn't notice the breakage as she continued to walk on. Trunks toddled back over to his mother, who gave him a gentle pat on the head. The bust-owner shouted after them. "Hey, bitch! Get back here and-"
A large shadow stepped between the rabid Miguel fan and Bulma. This giant fellow, dressed in a silk, three-piece suit with a Capsule Corp logo on the breast pocket and sporting a fiery red mohawk, pulled down his sunglasses and glared at the rude, little man. "Do you have an issue with Mrs. Briefs that I may address?"
The little creep trembled. "N-n-n-n-n-no...s-sir..."
Android 16 pushed his sunglasses back over his piercing, blue eyes. "Then kindly go back about your business."
Not bothering to argue, the rabid Miguel fan stood and immediately high-tailed it in the opposite direction. Android 16 turned and shortly caught up to his boss. Bulma smirked. "You are the best employee that I have ever hired, 16."
16 smiled and adjusted his long, black tie. "I aim to exceed expectation. Speaking of expectation, it is time for your next dose of nausea medication."
The hulking Android opened his suit jacket and unbuttoned the stomach of his lime green dress shirt, allowing him to open a refrigerator installed in his gut to pull out a dose of nausea-relief medication and a small can of ginger ale. He handed them to Bulma, who eagerly took them. Blonde Launch chuckled, adjusting her chest carrier as Baby Ranch kicked and waved her arms around. "This one givin' ya some trouble, Bulma?"
Bulma nodded as she swallowed. "More trouble that Trunks ever did...maybe it's the way that Vegeta and I conceived this one..."
Blonde Launch sighed. "I'd take the hassle offa your hands if I could. I'd love to have another one before I get too old to do it. But, Raditz..."
Suno, also quite visibly pregnant, smiled. "Oh, come on Launch. You're not that old. It's nowhere near too late~"
Blonde Launch's nose wrinkled. She turned to Android 16. "How old are you?"
Android 16 flinched. "Me personally or the person I was based on?"
Blonde Launch shrugged. "Whichever is older."
Android 16 nodded. "Gebo was 29 when he died."
Blonde Launch nodded. "Okay. Thanks."
She turned back to Suno. "I am literally the oldest person here."
Suno nervously chuckled. "S-Still...you're not that old, Launch..."
Blonde Launch sighed. "It's not even that. It's just...I'm worried about Raditz, ya know? He hasn't been the same since the Cell Games. He's just so...sullen. He acts like he's afraid to lay a finger on Ranch. Like, I know he loves her but...he's doubting himself, I guess. And I don't know why because he won't talk to me about it..."
Bulma frowned. "What is it...? Do you think he's just getting bored of being married, or-"
Blonde Launch shook her head. "No! Of course not. I just...I don't know..."
Chi-Chi interjected. "Raditz is just going through a rough spot, Launch. He'll get better with time. And, I mean, look on the bright side. This island shows that you could have a worse husband..."
The annoyed housewife took another look around this excessive festival exploiting the death of a poor woman who wasn't even around to have a say. She gripped her fists as she remembered the heartbroken look on Videl's face. "Every time I see something having to do with that Mr. Satan asshole, I hate him just a little bit more. But this time..."
Chi-Chi gritted her teeth together so hard that they could be heard scraping together. She seethed. "I look forward to watching my Gohan knock him all the way off his high horse!"
Bulma rolled her eyes. "I still think this grudge of yours is dumb, but I actually kind of agree this time."
A frisby came shooting towards Bulma's head, but 16 quickly caught it. Bulma looked over at the frisby and saw it emblazoned with a big, tacky sticker of Miguel's face. She sneered. "I never met Miguel, personally. But I've always heard she was a kind, giving soul. Always holding benefit concerts, giving to charities, and visiting sick fans in the hospital whenever she could. She was the type of woman who worked 25 hours a day and meant every second of it. Seeing this be her legacy is stomach-turning..."
Chi-Chi snapped. "Exactly! And it's all that oaf's fault! If he actually cared about his wife like our husband's care about us, he'd never let something like this happen! That poor woman and her poor daughter probably don't mean anything to him!"
Suno frowned, rubbing her pregnant stomach and feeling the tiniest kick from within. "I... I hope that's not true. That would be too depressing to bare..."
Blonde Launch spat. "Don't let it get to ya, Red. Your hubby loves you, that's why he's competing in this tournament. He knows he probably won't win, but he's still willing to try for that prize money at the end~"
Suno smiled. "You're right~"
Chi-Chi smirked. "Speaking of that tournament, let's go scout out a spot to sit and watch the fights. I want to have a nice view for when Gohan thrashes the afro-headed idiot~"
Bulma groaned. "You could at least try to pretend like that isn't the only reason you're letting Gohan compete..."
Back in Cash Tower...
Mr. Satan groaned and took a seat next to his daughter, sadly glancing over at her depressive, little form and gently placing his hand on her head. X.S. Cash sighed, not losing his toothy smile but taking on a decidedly less friendly tone. "You don't have long to sit. We need to get you to the studio on the floor below for your photo op. And, after that, you can come back up here and tell that girl that she needs to be respectful when an adult is talking."
Mr. Satan sneered. "Now, listen you-"
X.S. Cash chuckled. "Oh, Marky m'boy, I don't have time to listen. I can't hear you over the amount of money your wife is pouring into my pockets. And, if I were you, I wouldn't distract me from that lovely sound...less I start missing it and decide that the intellectual property rights to your wife's image and music should stay in my possession..."
Mr. Satan flinched. Cash chuckled. "Now, now...let's try not to be ugly here. This is a day of celebration. Miguel is a once-in-a-lifetime talent after all. We should be focusing on celebrating her in a way that both satisfies the public...and loosens the public's grip on their hard-earned zeni..."
The hulking martial artist looked so tired. He had been dealing with this overweight huckster since the day after Miguel had died. X.S. Cash chuckled. "It's simple, Marky m'boy, we hold this tournament, I make a profit, we play this..."
Cash pulled a CD from his jacket pocket, the cover label "Golden by Miguel" and twisted it in the air. "...the last song Miguel ever sang. And then, once you win your exhibition and we send the people home happy, I sign over the rights to your wife's likeness and music over to you and we part ways~"
He chuckled. "Doesn't that sound like a good deal?"
Mr. Satan glared away, punching his fist into his aching back. "Y-Yes sir..."
X.S. Cash rolled his eyes., setting the Golden CD down next to the huge media console that control all of the island's broadcast equipment. "Marky m'boy, you look pitiful. Why don't you use some of that quaint, little fortune of yours to buy a new bed? Or why don't you just sleep in your old one now that all that cumbersome machinery is out of the way...?"
Mr. Satan remained quiet, his body shivering at the thought of that empty, lonely bed. He shook his head. "Let's just...do the photo-op? Okay?"
X.S. Cash chuckled. "That's the spirit, Marky m'boy~!"
As the two men left to go and do the photo op, Mr. Satan glanced over at his daughter. Videl looked up at him with puffy, tired eyes and the hulking martial artist paused in place. He didn't want to just leave her there. Sheepishly, Mr. Satan spoke to the multi-billionaire in front of him. "Mr. Cash, sir...can we bring Videl along for the photo op? I don't wanna leave her all alone..."
X.S. Cash rolled his eyes, letting loose a light-hearted chuckle. "Of course not, Marky m'boy. We don't reward bad behavior like that~ You're going to raise a hoodlum if you go soft on her like that~"
Mr. Satan gripped his fists hard, veins bulging out around his knuckles. Cash sighed. "Oh, fine. If you're that worried about her being lonely...then perhaps exposing her to a properly reared child will teach her how to act~ Oh Monty~! Come to papa~!"
Running in as fast as he could, towheaded, bespectacled, lanky little boy answered the call. He marched up to his father and stood with proper posture. "Yes father?"
X.S. Cash chuckled. "Mr. Satan is worried that his daughter is going to be lonely while we go do his duties. You two are about the same age. So, would you be a dear and keep this little one company?"
Monty cheered. "Sure thing, father!"
X.S. Cash smiled and then turned to Mr. Satan. "Now, without any further delay, shall we head down?"
Mr. Satan was shaking with rage. Every inch of his being wanted to beat the stuffing out of this man, pick up his daughter, and leave. But then he'd lose the ability to ever celebrate his wife again. Her entire legacy would be held in X.S. Cash's grip forever and he'd never be able to get it again. Mr. Satan squeezed his eyes shut. He thought of his wife, on stage, singing her heart out. Those were the times in her life where she was always at her best. The times where she was at her happiest. He...he couldn't lose that...
And so, practically forcing himself to walk forward, Mr. Satan exited the room, with X.S. Cash following close behind. Once they were gone, Monty plopped down in the seat next to Videl. "Hey~!"
Videl didn't respond. Monty frowned and reached up to her headphones, shoving one of the earcups off. Videl cringed and gripped her ear. "Ow!"
Monty chuckled. "Sorry. I guess you couldn't hear me talking through all that music you're listening to. You should really turn it down. It's rude not to respond to people."
Videl frowned. "L-Look...Monty...I... I just don't feel like talking right now, okay? My Mom...she..."
Monty nodded. "Yeah. Yeah. She died. That's sad and stuff. My father is upset because now we won't get those nice checks from her concerts anymore, but he says we'll survive. I still have my mother. She made me this hat~"
Monty pulled the hat off of his head. "See?"
Videl frowned, looking away and pulling the ear cup back over her head. "Uh-huh..."
Monty blushed, looking upset and rather angry. "Father is right. You are a rude, little bitch. But, that's okay. One day, when you're my wife, I'll teach you not to treat me that way..."
A couple hours later, Spectator Plaza...
Everyone had found a place to sit and watch as, finally, the Miguel Memorial Classic was about to get underway. The lots had been drawn and the matches had been made. Now, at the top of the hour, they would begin!
In order to conserve time and make the tournament as exciting as possible, all of the fighters who had entered were split into four groups. Each of those groups would participate in a battle royale until only one fighter remained from each. Then, each of those fighters would go on to fight specially selected fighters from around the globe!
From her seat, Bulma sipped a cup of hot tea and stared up at the screen as a graphic covering each of the four groups was displayed on the screen. "I wonder how they've all been divided up...?"
Blonde Launch snorted. "Wouldn't it be something if they all ended up in the same group?"
Android 16 was blunt. "That would make for a dull tournament."
Suno looked over at him. "Why aren't you fighting 16? Did Bulma forbid you from entering too?"
16 shook his head. "I prefer not to engage in combat if possible. I did not lose a valuable piece of equipment, I simply abstained."
Suno sighed. "Hey, Bulma...don't you think it was a bit harsh to outright forbid Goku, Vegeta, and Raditz from competing?"
Bulma looked rather uncaring. "Maybe this'll teach 'em to be more careful when they borrow people's shit. Besides, I'm having them do something more important anyway. It is Christmas Eve, after all..."
Android 16 sighed. "I suppose the question of who is the most powerful on Earth regards more than just simply strength..."
Chi-Chi waved her hand. "Everyone shut up! They're posting the brackets!"
And so, the four circles on the screens quickly populated with faces. The four women, Ox-King, and Android 16 watched for the faces of their friends to appear. And, one by one they did. Once all of the circles were completely full, the nasal voice of Jimmy Firecracker called out. "These are the match-up, folks! And, in a mere five minutes, we will see all of these brave challengers compete for the honor of facing Miguel's beloved husband in an official match!"
As everyone around them erupted in cheers, Bulma's group scanned over the graphic. They didn't care about all of the riff-raff. They knew that these fights would boil down to a few, select people. Suno frowned. "Oh dear..."
Round 1: Gohan vs Yamcha!
Bulma chuckled. "Well, it's been a while since I've seen those two fight..."
Round 2: Krillin vs Chiaotzu!
Blonde Launch smirked. "I guess if my man isn't here to fight, I could cheer him on~"
Round 3: Piccolo vs Tien!
Chi-Chi sighed. "Well, they've been arguing for nearly a week now...so this might be for the best..."
Round 4: Bardock vs Gine!
On the rooftops overlooking Spectator Plaza...
In the shadows of a rooftop overhang, two piercing sets of eyes observed the match-ups bracket. One of them spoke. "This will be interesting to watch..."
The other nodded. "Yeah..."
In Cash Tower...
Mr. Satan was frozen in horror as he stared at the brackets. Any layman onlooker wouldn't notice the distinct collection of faces within each circle, but for Mr. Satan, they stood out like glowing, red beacons. Nearly everyone from the Cell Games was present in these fights. And Mr. Satan could feel them all breathing down his neck like wolves.
In particular, the World Champion's eyes locked onto quite a familiar face. It was the boy that had actually defeated Cell. Was he here for revenge?!
As Mr. Satan slowly began to back away, X.S. Cash gave him a firm slap on the back. "Marky m'boy, taking in all of your potential challengers~? They shouldn't be too hard to beat, right?"
Mr. Satan stuttered. "I, uh..."
X.S. Cash chortled. "Now, now, Marky m'boy. Don't get cold feet. Remember the terms of our agreement. You have to win the exhibition fight at the end of all of this, or the rights to Miguel's music and likeness will remain with me~"
Mr. Satan was speechless. X.S. Cash chuckled, thinking to himself that he was sure there was no way Mr. Satan would be able to win. Not with one of 'Miguel's favorites' whom he went out of his way to hire. Mr. Satan, meanwhile, was less concerned with the rights to his wife's likeness and more concerned with the immediate effects of a loss. No one would be able to stand up to the person who defeated Cell...and that boy would most certainly beat him if they fought.
Mr. Satan shot a fearful look over at Videl, and then, in his mind, he began to picture everything they had in their lives burning away. "Th-This can't be happening..."
Tournament Ring #1...
Gohan and Yamcha stood across from one another in the ring. The wind blew and made Yamcha's newly long and shaggy hair billow like a sheet. He chuckled. "Well damn...and here I was hoping that I'd be able to at least sniff that prize money..."
Gohan nervously chuckled. "Sorry, Yamcha. My Mom said that if I don't make a real effort to win this, then I'm grounded. She's...pretty vehement on that..."
Yamcha nodded. "Yeah, I get it. Chi-Chi is a nightmare to deal with sometimes..."
He smirked. "Well, is what it is, I guess. What say we have a real fight, buddy?"
Gohan smirked. "Sure thing, Yamcha~"
Tournament Ring #2...
Krillin took on a serious stance and grinned. "I think we both remember how this ended last time?"
Chiaotzu chuckled. "You wish it would be that easy~"
The dwarf pulled up his sleeve, revealing a smart watch. He pressed a button. "SIRI, be ready to answer any math problems you hear."
The watch responded. "Okay. I am ready to help with mathematical queries."
Krillin sighed. "Oh, we're taking this seriously, huh?"
Chiaotzu's eyes began to glow in response.
Tournament Ring #3...
A cape went flying and crashed into the water with a mighty splash. As a large wave crested and washed over the entire ring, two martial artists stood stalwart. Tien smirked. "Was that supposed to scare me, Pic...Ma Junior?"
Piccolo cracked his neck. "Hmph. I haven't even begun to try and scare you yet. You thought you should be terrified of a mere demon? I'm a God, now."
Tien took a fighting stance. "You know, after Frieza and Cell, that just doesn't have the same ring to it that it would have a few years ago."
Piccolo adopted a sarcastic smirk and took an aggressive posture. "So says the mortal that was beaten by morons like Drum and Nappa~"
Tien's power began to swell. "You'll see. I will not be left behind by the likes of you."
Tournament Ring #4...
All of the other fighters stood in terrified silence, on the very edge of the ring. They were all as far back from the center as they could get without falling into the water. And all of them were silently shivering in fear at the sheer pressure coming from the two people standing in the center of the ring.
One of them, a short, thin lady with shaggy hair wearing a purple and teal qipao, glared at her opponent with cold eyes and a bulging head vein. "Husband."
The other, a tall, muscular man with a red headband and a scar on his cheek, glared right back. He pulled his headband taut and growled. "Wife."
In the announcer's column, between all four rings...
Jimmy Firecracker stared down at the four rings with sweat-beading anticipation. He spoke clearly into the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, a word if I may. I first met Miguel when I was but a late-night talk show host. She came and did a set on my program that left the audience spellbound and starstruck. It was through her that I met Mr. Satan and it was through Mr. Satan that I got my current, beloved job as a sports broadcaster. Miguel changed my life and she deserves to be remembered as nothing short of an angel in human form..."
Firecracker wiped a tear from his eye. "So, to accompany her soul on its ascent to heaven, let us display martial arts prowess as we never have before! It is my honor to declare that these sacred matches may officially BEGIN!"
In the Earth's orbit...
Hovering just above the beautiful, blue planet that was the Earth, an otherwise unremarkable ship scanned the planet below. From the outside, the craft appeared to be little more than an asteroid, or perhaps some space junk. This was on purpose, as the occupants within would rather not be seen.
Within the ship, a tall man with blue skin and a bright orange mohawk and goatee stared at a computer reading. This reading showed double digits in higher-level ki sources. Fearful murmurs spread through all of the people aboard the craft. The mohawked fellow turned to a person sitting in the shadows, atop a massive captain's chair. He spoke. "Master...what are your thoughts?"
The Master chuckled, opening his palm and illuminating his bandaged face with a blood-red ki. "Impressive, I suppose. But not enough to stop us. This planet will be ours. And then...we may begin to plot our bloody vengeance~"
