THE VEGETA CHRONICLES
Chapter 3 - The Tournament
The following weeks would speed by fast for Gohan and Vegeta. As they had planned for the best course of sleeping arrangements for the duration of young Saiyan-Human Hybrid's training with the Saiyan Elite, it only made sense for the veteran warrior to suggest using one of the many empty rooms within Capsule Corp.
While meeting initial resistance by Bulma about having Gohan live away from his family, Vegeta reasoned it would be too difficult to have to wait on the boy to travel here and back. It was also the best place for him to stay, as Capsule Corp's HQ structure dual purposed as a large mansion for the expansive living space and quarters of the Briefs family. Having already housed Vegeta for prolonged periods of time, it almost seemed natural for Vegeta to assume they'd do the same for his new apprentice-in-training.
Gohan thought of the time in the Hyperbolic Chamber and concluded it was blissfully peaceful in comparison to the time he spent with Vegeta in training. Every day they would spend a minimum of eight to ten hours training themselves of self-improvement within a specially modified gravity chamber, one of which that could house their enormous influxes of energy properly while also increasing the gravity exposure past prior limitations.
Having only been exposed to slightly elevated gravity in the past, Gohan strained and struggled to control his base form in high settings, while honing his Super Saiyan forms for the next six months. Upon occasional events, usually only occurring once a week, Vegeta and himself would spar and the latter would be instructed tactically how best to use advanced Saiyan style martial arts in sync with the new powers of the Super Saiyan forms granted to him.
This would be the only thing driving Gohan, as his time visiting his mom had only been extended to once a day during the weekends, always excited to tell her of the amazing progress he felt was being made. Not even training with Piccolo had ever felt this intense or dangerous, and felt that Vegeta's dryly announced warning of possible death was well worth hearing prior to starting the rigorous process.
Then...an announcement would change the flow of this intense training, one of which would bring a new and unexpected challenge for him and his friends to overcome.
"Today, we received an important announcement! In the wake of the heroic deeds of Mr. Satan's victory against the evil monster Cell nearly half a year ago, a new Tournament dubbed the Intergalactic Tournament, has been proposed by the Billionaire X.S. Cash. This Tournament is unlike the prior Tenkaichi Budoken Tournaments, will feature real aliens! This being a fair entry for all races and genders alike, the Intergalactic Tournament highly encourages prospective martial artists across the globe to enter! The location of this Tournament will be held upon the man-made island, known as Battle Island! Designed to withhold many uniquely designed arenas for the challengers, only one will walk away with a cash prize of 100,000,000 Zeni!"
Coughs and gasps were heard from Bulma, as she had been feeding her child when she heard the stunning announcement. This caused the entirety of the group to halt their noon smorgasbord as they watched the TV with rapt attention. Even Vegeta had set his eyes upon the screen, waiting patiently to hear the rest of the announcement.
"As a bonus, Mr. Satan himself has agreed to fight alongside the competitors during the Tournament to compete for the grand prize. Despite how he often has hailed from the background and only entered once there was only one challenger left, this is obviously a new side of Hercule we have never seen before, and I personally am excited to see him duke it out with the rest of the competitors! In just three days time, this weekend will be on fire as tens of thousands of people are expected to attend this new Tournament in honor of our World Champion, Hercule Satan, at the designated stadium, while the rest is aired for those across the entire world! This is Emily Wong, and I'm happy to report to you your noon news..."
Vegeta gave a dark chuckle, as his onyx eyes narrowed with apparent amusement at the boldness of the so-called "World Champion", especially after his last visit to the pathetic martial artist's home.
"Apparently this calls for a little intervention. I'll ensure he regrets being so brazen when the threat I made so perfectly clear. Make no mistake, this time around, he will suffer by my hand," Vegeta inwardly plotted, keeping his dark expression, something that caused Bulma to eye him with curiosity as she regained her own composure.
"You seem pretty excited, Vegeta," Bulma smiled, excited to see her lover finally take an actual interest in the organized competitions, "planning on winning that prize for us to take our little boy and big man on a vacation?"
"Ugh, mother," Trunks, the older future counterpart, rolled his eyes before hanging his head as he was referred in such a manner, "you can just call me by name, and refer to my counterpart in the plural form."
"But, Trunks, you have gotten to be such a strong, handsome man, just like your father," Bulma winked mischievously, earning a blush of embarrassment from the Half-Saiyan.
"I wouldn't enter into a flamboyantly ridiculous competition just for wealth, woman," Vegeta huffed audibly, showing his disdain at the suggestion for presuming his motivation so poorly. Resuming his dark smile, he added with a chuckle, "I want to see how far my son and my disciple have gotten in their training. What better way than to add some stakes to give more incentive for us to show what we're really capable of!"
"This wouldn't have anything to do with the fact Hercule is in the Tournament, right Vegeta?" Gohan smirked as he pointed his fork in his mentor's direction.
Vegeta's smile turned into a scowl as his eyes set its gaze to meet the knowing stare of his pupil. Despite all the improvement he made, his tendencies to act like his late rival always burned him up. Even his hairstyle, despite being trimmed in the fashion of which he had during the Cell Games, with nothing but an upturned pointy lock of hair just above his right brow, his face looked undeniably similar to Goku's, if not in a more younger appearance.
"Hmph, he's not worth my time," Vegeta turned his face in a convincing glare back at Gohan, causing the boy to back off the issue, something he became accustomed to when spending each day training with the Saiyan Elite, "I much rather face you, Gohan, and my son rather than pick a fight with such a loser. But...if it so happens that fate pits me against the fraud who stole the honor I had in slaying Cell, then he will know absolute humiliation. I guarantee it!"
"Try to go easy on him," Bulma spoke with a little concern, but bore a humored smile on her face, showing that she didn't think much of the egotistical superstar hoax, "after all, it wouldn't look good if the real hero of Earth mutilated such a noteworthy man. Everyone will be terrified of you, if that happens."
"Ha! They should be!" Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest, grinning confidently as he bent his chin upwards as he leaned back on his seat, "after all, next to Trunks and Gohan, I am the strongest warrior of the galaxy. Until another worthy challenger crawls from the wood works, I will do my utmost best to proclaim my superiority over all others. Whether they be brutes or cons, they will all be crushed underneath my boot!"
"Well, we'll have to see about that in the Tournament," Trunks spoke with a confident smirk of his own, lifting his fist up in emphasis before clenching it tightly, "after all, there might be a good chance you won't make it to the finals, with me and Gohan in it. I'll bet anything if the other guys know about this, they're probably excited to put their own training to the test!"
"Tch, granted the Namekian has been showing promise, but I doubt any of the others will prove to me to be anything but an annoyance," Vegeta sighed, setting his arms onto the table, grabbing the rest of his food and devouring it in one inhaling swallow. Wiping his mouth on his arm, much to his wife's chagrin, he stood up and cocked his head to the exit of the kitchen as he walked out, "c'mon then! We only have three days until this so-called Intergalactic Tournament occurs! I rather us be at our best when we face each other on the proper stage!"
"Right!" Gohan nodded with affirmation, trading a glance with Trunks, before the two rose from their tables after inhaling their respective portions.
As the three Saiyan warriors rushed out of the kitchen to renew their training, Bulma could only sigh as she looked down at her toddler, content with devouring his baby food as messily as he could. As the toddler smiled happily with what he didn't eat layered upon his lips and chin, she could only wonder if her son would ever turn out the way his father and counterpart would.
During the lapse of six months, the Saiyan offspring and the last remaining Saiyan weren't the only ones motivated to train in the wake of Cell's defeat. In fact, seeing Vegeta overcome his own personal feelings and vices in order to destroy the monster actually gave the Z Fighters renewed hope, and vigor in preparing themselves to be the last remaining guardians of Earth, should the time come when the power of the Super Saiyans would be enough.
Having learned to better tap into his immense reserves of potential power, Piccolo began to start a new line of training that would further help build up his energy and physical force, without having to rely on special locations of training, such as the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. Despite not being Guardian of Earth, he always remained upon the Lookout, ensuring that the youthful Namekian would never be alone and that the sacred borderline orbital temple wouldn't be left unguarded.
Upon occasion he would see Gohan during his time of momentary absence from the Briefs residence, and from Vegeta's rigorous training to hone the new found power of which had been called Super Saiyan 2. He was deeply impressed and proud of the progress his former student had made in such a short span of time.
This encouraged him to press himself to the utmost limits of the power granted to him by Kami in aftermath of his fusion. As the broadcast began to hail across the country, and the world, of the upcoming Intergalactic Tournament, a rare smile was brought onto the stern visage of the respected warrior of Namek.
"A Tournament, huh? I guess people are already starting to feel more comfortable with having those again, despite what Cell did only six months ago," Piccolo spoke audibly, already feeling the presence of Dende, the new prodigious Guardian of the Lookout and Earth's Dragon Balls. While his back was turned and his eyes closed, as he remained in a constant state of meditation to keep himself training, Piccolo queried the young Namekian, "are those two done in there? I know they've been training for the past six months, but I didn't expect even Yamcha to last this long in there of all places..."
"Oh, if you mean if Tien, Krillin, and Yamcha are done with the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, then they should be coming out any minute now," the young Namekian smiled with assurance, as he looked over his shoulder at the location of which the door that separated the two dimensions lied, and the clock directly over it, "they were only using it for twelve hours instead of a full day, so I don't think it should be too much for them, considering they all make good company for each other."
"Hmph," Piccolo resumed his stoic expression, but kept his back to the young Namekian none-the-less. He could feel the enormous well of power being poured out of his body and circulated, within a constant flow. While it appeared he was at complete ease, the mental and physical strain was just as intense as a physical sparring would be with a Super Saiyan.
He purposely masked his power, or his full strength that is, from the others, hoping to conceal it from the likes of Gohan, Vegeta, and Trunks. Even if they trained hard, he purposely endeavored to train just as hard in his own way, and ensure he would not alert others, less they haste their own training to exceed his rapid ascent.
"Dende," the voice of a low, yet cheerful rotund genie walked out of the courtyard and approached the young Guardian of Earth with a respectful bow, "the time is up for the others in the chamber. We should greet them, and see the results of their hard work."
"Alright, Mr. Popo," Dende spoke with equal show of etiquette, bowing his head meekly as he clutched his tall stave. Turning his head, he saw Piccolo finally grunt out of his meditative trance, and stand to his feet.
Whether it was just the point of view of a child looking up to an elder, or something he had been noticing over the past half year on the Lookout...he almost imagined that Piccolo was a little taller than usual.
Shaking himself out of his dazed reverie, Dende saw Piccolo already walking forth with stoic strides towards the portal's gateway, causing the young Guardian to timidly follow behind the staunch, Namekian protector of Earth.
Impeccably upon standing not but ten meters from the doorway, the immaculate gate opened forth like clockwork, and in excess, revealed three staunch warriors of humanity marching forth. Each one bore a look of confidence that hadn't been seen since their days during the Tenkaichi Budokai Tournaments, with each one adorning a new look to verify the lapse of time leaving an impact upon each of them.
Standing at the far left was none other than Tien Shinhan, his body adorned with several new scars, obviously from some unusual intense training within the chamber, while his exposed torso seemed to have accentuated even further than it had beforehand. A confident smile donned upon his face, and his three eyes glistened of promise and resolve. He obviously had felt satisfied from his venture in the chamber.
Standing to his left and dead center of the group was Krillin. Wearing a wide grin upon seeing familiar faces and the shining Sun greeting him, glistening the majestic Lookout. Nonchalant as always, he also seem to permeate with confidence and a carefree presence from him. Relief washed over him, like a nice cool shower over his bald head.
Lastly, standing to the far right of Piccolo was Yamcha. His time seemed to have impacted him the most. On-top of the training he had stressed to put himself forth in the past six months, he then agreed to go in with Tien and Krillin to push himself even farther. Having never been more motivated to prove himself to Goku that he could pull his own weight, especially without the help of a certain, haughty Super Saiyan. His long-mane style hair now gone, replaced by a butch-cut trim of hair over his head, while showing new definition from his own body, as well as a renewed confident grin on his face. The last time he sported such a look was when he prepared to face Vegeta and Nappa after his own stressful training with his friends had finished.
"Well, it seems like none of you are worse for wear," Piccolo spoke with an admiring tone, a smirk donned upon his green visage as he eyed even Yamcha to his right, "even you, Yamcha, seemed to exceed my expectations. Its been awhile since I've seen you so devoted to your training..."
"Yeah, well, I tried my best," Yamcha chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck, characteristically spreading a goofy smile on his face, "it wasn't easy either. I think Tien and Krillin had to take shifts in picking me up after I passed out from the training in the chamber."
"Yeah, no kidding! With all that extra muscle you got now, its not easy lifting you off your sorry butt, Yamcha!" Krillin laughed in a jocular tone, causing Yamcha to briefly glare in a playful manner before Tien has his own say.
"Krillin and Yamcha did exceptionally well in their training. They kept up with me nearly every step of the way," Tien crossed his well endowed arms over his massive torso, a confident smile wore with an exceptional glint of mystery hidden. A telling to Piccolo that he had developed a few tricks of his own.
But the Namekian was nothing but sharp, and immediately assumed he and the others had begun mastering that technique, taught to them by King Kai all those years ago.
"So, it sounds like you found a way to sustain that technique past what Goku could?" Piccolo queried, cutting straight to the chase as he crossed his own arms over his large chest.
Tien shrugged, letting his arms drop to his sides as all three eyes stared at him intently, "Maybe, maybe not. Its hard to tell at this point. I won't know until I give my skills a test boost," arching a brow he waved a hand in emphasis, "care to have a test run, and see for yourself?"
"Hmph," Piccolo grunted visibly, but inwardly admired the guts and zeal the three-eyed rival of Goku's had. If there was at any time a human who rivaled in potential to the Saiyan's, it was Tien Shinhan. With a shake of his head, Piccolo spoke in a propositioning tone, "actually, I have a better idea to sate that appetite of battle of yours. All three of you in fact."
"Really? What is that?!" Krillin asked excitedly, wondering what Piccolo could mean.
"A few minutes ago, a rich billionaire had aired an announcement of a grandiose tournament that will be held in three days from now. Its called the Intergalactic Tournament, due to the supposed show of aliens being involved," Piccolo spoke derisively about the latter part of his announcement, closing his eyes with a show of obvious disdain for the mockery, "of course, they're really just clowns, probably hired by the supposed World Champion himself, to make things appear to be different than normal."
"Wow! A Tournament, huh?! Boy that sure does bring me back," Krillin spoke with obvious excitement and nostalgia, sighing as he looked up in the sky with a smile, "now, if only a certain blonde would show up to watch me compete, that'd really make my day..."
"Hah! You're dreaming! That Android told you off, even after you spent the wish on her and her lousy brother," Yamcha waved his hand dismissively, rolling his eyes at the thought of Krillin's delusional romantic desire for the blonde cyborg, "its obvious she doesn't have a thing for midgets, anyways..."
"Hey! I'm not a midget, I'm a dwarf! There's a difference there you know!" Krillin waved his hand at Yamcha insistently, despite it all in being good fun, had a sense of pride in himself, despite his proportionately challenged height in retrospect to others.
The two continued to bicker, as custom of their particular friendship, which allowed Tien and Piccolo to speak personally to each other, without need of interruption weighing in.
"All the kidding aside, I think that's an excellent idea," Tien spoke evenly with a renewed smirk, smacking his right fist into an open left palm in an audible and visual emphasis of his eagerness for a sparring match, "knowing Vegeta and those two other Saiyans, they'll probably jump at the chance of fighting in this Tournament and show how its really done!"
"Don't get too cocky," Piccolo warned him levelly, adding with a smirk of his own, a fire lighting up within his own eyes as his blood itched for a battle of his own, "you still haven't seen what I've been up to yet, and I might have the advantage in where most of you do not."
"Yeah, well we'll see," Tien nodded to Piccolo, before glancing over at the bickering pair, speaking loud enough to get their attention, "hey, since we all worked so hard, how about we take a trip to Kame House? It'll be nice to show off to Master Roshi how far we've come, and take a load off before the big event takes place."
"Yeah! Sounds like a great idea!" Yamcha fist pumped in agreement, whereas Krillin nodded in succession to that plan.
"Alright," taking to the air, Tien waved to Piccolo and the others, smiling down at them as he was joined by his three comrades, "we'll see you guys soon! Let us know if you want to meet up before the Tournament starts so we can all go together!"
"Count on it," Piccolo spoke with assurance, the confidence oozing from his body was almost as palpable as the keen gaze of promising excitement boring into Tien's eyes of rare self-honed determination.
With a turn of his cape, he walked back to his original spot, and began to resume meditating. Things were about to get interesting for everybody...
And those several days past as quickly as the last half year had for the Super Saiyans. The title of winner wouldn't mean anything to them, unless they defeated each other properly in combat. With a stage no less, this would prove not only to themselves, but the world that briefly whispered of their unbelievable existence not so long ago, and had blissfully forgotten them.
Vegeta, most of all, wanted to change that ignorant way of thinking.
As he awoke before dawn, he slipped out his bed from Bulma, padding his bare feet across the floor and into the restroom, shutting the door as quietly as possible. He didn't want to inconvenience his wife and child, especially since this was a day he wanted them to be awake and see him at his best.
Quickly shedding himself of his undergarments, Vegeta entered the shower and turned the nob to boiling hot. His durable skin and tolerance for pain allowed him to feel the high temperatures with ease and relaxation, loosening up the muscles for the day of his participation. Leaning his hands against the tiled wall, he immediately began to strategize, his eyes stared at the wall as he thought over those participating and what he was up against.
"Alright. As far as I can tell, my real biggest challenges are Gohan and Trunks. While Gohan may have more power than my son, he still has a ways to go before reaching my caliber in skill. I'm not sure if my son has reached this level, but he is smart and unpredictably resourceful at times, his cunning exceeding my own time and again. I'll have to be wary for any tricks he may try to pull during the Tournament."
Turning around, he allowed his backside to get a full-douse as he crossed his arms in the stall, thinking over the other warriors that would assuredly enter, "I felt the progress those three earthlings made when they exited the chamber. They're impressive, but nowhere near the class of a fully trained Super Saiyan. It will be interesting battling them at my base form before finishing them, in the event I do make it to any one of them. However, its the Namekian that's been troubling," narrowing his eyes, he glared at the array of lotions Bulma stacked upon a metal rack, hoisted onto suction cups that cemented themselves on the tiled wall of the shower stall, "he's been suppressing his energy far more than usual. In fact, if I didn't know any better, I'd almost assume he died of old age up there, but I know better. He must be working on some special training he inherited from that fossil of a Namekian he fused with. It might prove challenging indeed, and worthy of a good fight."
Turning around on the balls of his feet, Vegeta shut the shower off, and slid the curtains back. As the Saiyan began stepping wetly onto the floor, he grabbed a beige towel off the towel rack, as he smiled darkly in emphasis of his trail of thought.
Drying himself of the acquired moisture of his morning shower he couldn't help but chuckle during his personal musings, "However, if by the slightest chance I find myself pitted against that buffoon of a con man, Hercule Satan, I will intend to drag every ounce of enjoyment I can in absolutely humiliating him. Once its over, at least he can retain some measly portion of his self-worth as a honest man, like it would matter when he will lose everything, haha!"
After drying himself off, he grasped a black tinted muscle shirt, sliding it over his muscular chest before sliding an identical pair of black slacks. Finally sliding his white-gold edged boots and his white gloves, the Saiyan prince felt satisfied he wore a casual, yet substantially impressive set of attire for the event.
Taking the time to look at the mirror, Vegeta looked at his reflection with a cocky grin. Pointing his thumb at his face, he chuckled as he spoke to himself, "Yup, just going to stand here and keep being awesome."
By the time he left the restroom, he managed to exchange early morning pleasantries with his wife and son, before rushing down to meet the other waiting Saiyan-hybrids outside. With a silent nod of his head, they all swiftly gathered auras around themselves before bursting into the air and took off towards the designated arena mentioned over the television.
They were all silent and on edge, though nothing of severity. This was a challenging event to be sure. To not only pit their strength against each other at their best, but to do so within a public competition that would be seen and aired for millions around the world, and in front of tens of thousands, it would be nothing short of a reveling experience they wouldn't forget.
Upon reaching the festival area just short of where the contenders were to wait, they could already see a vast array of glistening colors, stands, and people with eagerness to see the grandiose event. Who would know that everyone's spirits would be lifted within such a short span of time?
"Wow, we're here at dawn and I still can't believe how many people are out and about," Gohan spoke in audible wonder, looking around as the oblivious citizens at nearly packing up most of the man-made streets of vendors and stands alike, "they must be in a really good mood about Mr. Cash promising this to be the largest Tournament in the history of the world."
"I wouldn't call it that big, but I'll sure give him credit for making everything appear grand," Trunks spoke in an honest tone, obviously impressed at the distantly designated Battle Island, already showing much more character and design than most standard Tekaichi Budokai rings, "they must want to make this a pretty memorable occasion for years to come."
"Can't believe this guy is also doing this as a birthday present for his son. Imagine what my mom would do with all the money that family had, I don't know if she'd remain sane!" Gohan joked, chuckling lightly at the thought of what would happen to her control freak of a mother if she had so much wealth.
"Yeah, my mother already has plenty of resources with her co-running Capsule Corps, but she insists that this prize money be used for some outrageous vacation," Trunks sighed, allowing a faint bead of sweat to crawl down his scalp with embarrassment.
"Don't pay your mother any mind, Trunks," Vegeta spoke sternly aloud, as they slowly landed at the back of the line, hardly payed any mind by the large, rotund, and various sized competitors ahead of them, "her fickle ideas for dull recreational time is nothing compared to the thrill of battle. Just keep your mind about overcoming your opponent, and that alone will get you the prize only a true warrior deserves!"
"Couldn't agree with you more, Vegeta," a low, stoic voice broke the air as other contenders fall in step just behind the three Saiyans. As the said prince turned around, he observed Piccolo with a challenging smile as he crossed his arms over his chest, as well as the other three human Z Fighters on either side of his wide frame, "I guess you had the same idea as we did."
"Hey guys!" Gohan exclaimed happily, waving at the three comrades he knew since he was a child, glad to see them after so much constant training. With a deft sweep of his eyes, he could immediately notice their new found confidence and vigor, radiating from their beings like energy from their pores, "I see you guys haven't been slacking off either, huh?"
"Yeah, we sure bulked up!" Krillin exclaimed with brimming pride, shamelessly flexing his small arms to show some recent added definition to his limbs.
Gohan nodded with approval, smiling at his mutually sized friend before looking up at the staunch figure of Tien, clad in a simple white muscle t-shirt and a pair of gi slacks with atypical martial art boots, "I see that you've grown stronger too, Tien. A lot stronger. Did you use the chamber, like dad and I did?
Tien nodded with affirmation, balling a fist up in emphasis of the experience, "Training normally like these past six months was nothing in comparison. Once we entered, it was like delving into a whole new level of extreme. I don't think any of us would've made it if we hadn't worked together to keep ourselves going."
"He's being modest," Yamcha spoke out, for once in a complimentary attitude as he elbowed the large three-eyed martial artist next to himself, "I barely got out of there alive. Tien and Krillin made the most progress out of the three of us."
"Ah, don't put yourself down, Yamcha," Gohan smiled with encouragement, giving his scar-faced bandit a thumb's up with assurance, "I can tell you got a lot stronger too. Dad would be proud by the progress you all have made."
"Thanks, Gohan!" Yamcha smiled sheepishly with humble acceptance, before quickly donning a psyched expression, pulling his arms close to his sides as he spoke aloud, "alright! Now I'm going to prove that I've got some stuff out there! With luck, I might be able to make it to the Semi-Finals and go with style, enough to warrant the much desired attention of the ladies..."
"Figures you wouldn't be in this for the long haul, eh, Yamcha?" Trunks commented with a knowing smirk, crossing his arms as he arched his brow in a very Vegeta-like way, "what's the matter? Given up after all the hard work you put yourself through?"
"Whoa, hey, easy man!" Yamcha raised his hands in defense, chuckling lightly at the truth behind his friend's words, earning the bandit a nervous scratch behind the back of his neck, "truth be told, no matter how I hard I try, you Saiyans trump anybody when it comes to training hard. Your tenacity is unreal it makes me think if any human can be a match for you."
"Well, I don't know about that," Trunks chuckled with meekness, before looking at the head of the line, there striking ridiculous poses and clothed in a ridiculous multi-colored jacket, embroidered with his own namesake: Hercule Satan, the supposed World Champion, "but I know of one particular human who wouldn't pose a challenge at all, even if he had all of your training combined..."
"Hehe, you got that right!" Krillin laughed along with Yamcha, balling his fists with his own personal reveling spirit, "boy, wouldn't you believe how popular any of us would be if we get paired with Mr. Satan? Beating him would be such a cinch!"
"Yeah, but its just a matter of who will be picked," Tien countered astutely, rubbing his chin with a grin on his face, "in all likeliness, all eight of us will pass any elimination round set up by the management to reduce the number to a manageable size. Chances are Mr. Satan will fight one of us, and he stands little to no possibility of competing in our league."
"Yeah, even if this was ten years ago, this would still be easy for us to win!" Yamcha spoke confidently with an upturned fist in the air, pointing directly at the arena, "who knows? I won't mind not winning the Tournament if I'm the guy who beats that pompous circus act!"
"The feeling won't last long after your next round, Yamcha," Gohan added with a laugh.
It was then that it was apparent that Vegeta and Piccolo exchanged no words. The two of them locked eyes and stared at each other for a long time. As if engaged in some form of psychological battle, the two would change their expressions ever so slightly, as to see if they could find out what the other was thinking or hiding.
In the end, Vegeta grew bored of the game, rolling his eyes as he pointed a hand straight at Yamcha, having heard the latest tidbit of the conversation for himself, "If anyone is going to win this Tournament, its going to be me. The accomplishment of beating such a ridiculous fake would be abysmal in comparison in defeating me!"
"Yeah?! Uh, well, at least I'll be considered greater than the World's Great Champion, right? Even if for a few minutes?" Yamcha tried to sound convincing, but realized the worth of such a victory was painfully insigificant in the long run.
"He does have a good point," Tien shrugged with admittance, sighing slightly at the obvious revelation they all knew of.
"Hey, on the plus side, if any of us win the Tournament, we can get a title that outshines his, and nobody will think much of him afterwards, haha!" Krillin laughed aloud, thinking it would be funny to see the look on the showboat's face when one of them would win a title as substantially impressive as his.
"I don't think we should really concern ourselves with the fate of that loser," Piccolo spoke tersely and matter-of-fact, stepping up next to Gohan before placing an admiring pat on his shoulder, smiling at the young prodigious son of Goku, "we should just focus on overcoming our obstacles and proving our skill. That's what a Tournament is all about, right?"
"Yeah," Gohan smiled with acknowledgement and adoration to his mentor and second father figure, nodding with a big smile, "it sure is..."
Hours would pass, and slowly the stadium for the Intergalactic Tournament grew full and maxed out. All tourney-goers who would miss the chance of seeing the fight for themselves would watch from the comforts of the dock-side view and the multiple angles given to them by dozens of video cameras arrayed across the area.
Luckily, Bulma and Chi-Chi were not among the latter.
Having met up with the mother of Goku, Bulma had used both money and influence to get pass the initial crowd and get good viewing seats.
"Wow, this is exciting!" Bulma looked over at Chi-Chi with an excited grin on her face, holding baby Trunks in her arms as it giddily reached for nearby butterflies, "I didn't think I'd ever get to see Vegeta and my big boy Trunks compete in the same Tournament!"
"I saw this coming from a long way off," Chi-Chi smiled thoughtfully, turning her eyes towards the massive viewing screens facing the audience, as the time rapidly approached for the contenders that were being raised respectively on the platforms of a distant battleground, "ever since marrying Goku, I knew that our children would follow in his footsteps and step into the ring just as he did so many times. I tried to give our boy the normal life he deserved, void of conflict and responsible only for his family and his job. I just didn't realize that until recently," Chi-Chi lowered her gaze, allowing herself a small sad smile to encroach upon her pretty face, as she rubbed her belly maternally as she felt her son kick within her insides, "my children are the children of Son Goku. They will be as stubborn, thick-headed, and fiery spirited as he ever was as a boy. I can only guide them to a life they may desire, but I can't force it upon them."
Bulma fell silent as she dropped her excitement down a notch. She knew from the way Chi-Chi spoke, that the brief visits Gohan had with her were very reminiscent to the ones that Goku did when he was off on an adventure or training to become stronger. She was rather accustomed to it, cause her boys never ran off too far from home. For Chi-Chi's family, it would feel as if she was left behind over and over. She knew it must be tough, especially with another child on the way, and no father to fall back on when things get difficult at home.
Shaking her head to disperse her reverie, Bulma placed a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder, squeezing it lightly to emphasize her concern, "Look, your son is going to be on stage soon. He'd want you to cheer him on...hes's going to need it considering my Trunks and Vegeta are on the stage."
Noting the challenging tone, the smirk, and the teaing wink Bulma gave her, Chi-Chi couldn't help but laugh lightly as she spoke back, "Bring it, sister! My Gohan is twice as strong as he was when he fought Cell! He could take on your boys at the same time, any day!"
"Oh yeah?!" Bulma, getting into the mood, leaned towards Chi-Chi with a wide smile of confidence upon her face, "you wish! My boys train twice, no, three times as hard as Gohan ever does. There's no way they can lose to him!"
"Hey! Keep it down you two!"
"What you sa-?!" Bulma stopped short at the familiar, young man's tone shouting from just a row behind them. She instantly recognized the smooth cut, handsome man looking to be every bit eighteen years old, wearing a long sleeve leather jacket over a band T-shirt, with a pair of jeans and cowboy boots on his feet, outstretched along a few empty seats. Tipping up his jet black cowboy hat, the cyborg grinned mischievously as he recognized who the women were directly beneath him were, "17?!"
"Hey there, lil ladies, how's your hormones kicking?" 17 spoke in a forced country accent, chuckling afterwards as he sat up straight as he regarded the two women, looking at them both with an upraised brow, "you two look surprised? Didn't you two use the Dragon Balls to bring all the saps done in by that creep all that time ago?"
"Yes-well...I mean...seeing you here...is kinda strange...," Bulma stuttered, not knowing what to think of the Android, one of the beings that had been forewarned by her time traveler son, and whom they all prepared to fight to the death, before Cell came along.
"You didn't seem like the type to hang with crowds quietly," Chi-Chi observed, clearing her throat, as she seemed a bit more composed by the sudden appearance of another strange individual she barely met, "from what I noted, the way they described, you were someone who'd rather enjoy a fight instead of sitting on the sidelines..."
"It'd be waste of time," a curt tone came from the beautiful blonde known as 18, sitting next to her biological brother, blankly staring at the two of them as she crossed her arms over her chest, "we'd be too strong for most of these idiots, which would be boring for us to fight to start with. Considering we can't increase our strength like your guys do, it would be undeniably their win when they set foot in the arena, even if we don't tire out like they do."
Chi-Chi and Bulma would immediately tell that her attire change was similar to her old clothes, but different enough to leave a distinct impression. Donned upon her lithe, beautiful frame was a sleeveless blue collared jacket, worn over a long-sleeved black shirt, wearing a similar pair of jeans to her brother's, while preferring a pair of white tennis shoes. The real striking difference to her attire was a simple sweatband wrapped around her forehead and hair, donning a dark red color to sharply contrast most of her clothes and features.
"Oh, that makes sense I guess," Chi-Chi nodded with understanding at 18's blunt answer, but still looked on with interest at the two, "I guess you would like to see how much stronger they've gotten over the past months?"
"Sure, its better than simply missing this event all-together, or watch it from a TV screen like most of the losers back at the docks," 17 spoke matter-of-fact, grinning cockily as he produced two tickets from the confines of his jacket, "a certain con man was about to sneak into the stadium when I liberated these from his person. He's going to take the comfort of watching from the docks, like all the others."
"You didn't have to break his arm, 17," 18 rolled her eyes, grumbling as she remembered how the man tried to fight back, causing the more fiery-tempered twin to snap his arm to discourage the notion, "we could have just let him try and cut us with his butter knife."
"Hey, you wanted in the stadium, and that was the easiest way next to flying in or forcing our way through," 17 countered, smiling devilishly as he pocketed the tickets back into his jacket, as he cast a knowing look at his sister, "after all, you wanted to see your man fight on the ring, right? After all, he went to so much trouble to earn your af-OW-OW-OW!"
"That's enough talking out of you," 18 spoke flatly, a single nerve vein protruding from her forehead as she grabbed his ear, yanking it at an odd angle, earning comical writhing and outburst of pain from the black-haired teenager.
While this earned a giggle from the two women at the antics of the teenage cyborgs, they were suddenly pulled back to the present as the loud thrum of the announcer's voice cut them off from their personal antics.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN! WE ARE NOW STARTING THE FIRST INTERGALACTIC TOURNAMENT! ARE YOU READY TO RUUUUUUUUUUUUMBLE?!"
A loud cacophony of screams, shouts, and cheers rung the air as much as any Super Saiyan's energy projection would. As Chi-Chi, Bulma, 17, and 18 re-focused their attention with attentive stares at the view screens, they can finally witness the Tournament's beginning.
"ALRIGHT! CONSIDERING THE EXPECTED NUMBER OF CHALLENGERS, WE ARE PITTING OVER TWO HUNDRED CONTESTANTS ON SEVERAL RINGS OF CUSTOM DESIGN, EACH WITH THEIR OWN OBSTACLES TO AVOID AND HINDER THE VERSATILE MARTIAL ARTISTS!"
Screens flashed before the audience around the world, the docks, and the stadium itself, allowing them to view a series of varying elevated arenas, each one with a unique design that distinguished itself separately from the others. Some randomly consisted of pillars, jetting up and down at different intervals at different speeds. Others focused on a rock-climbing mounted inverted pyramid, where the martial artists would have to balance atop the tentative thin line of space. Some tipped over like a balanced scale, others were normal shaped, but had wide enough gaps that would force contenders to watch their footing during the heat of battle. However, there was one particular arena that designed to embody the old, small Tenkaichi Budokai arena, but had no guardrails or anything to speak of from keeping the contenders from falling off the edge, of which all arenas were placed close to ten, to twenty, to thirty meters above the ocean.
"THE RULES IN THIS PRELIMINARY ROUND IS SIMPLE. EACH CONTENDER FIGHTS UNTIL ALL OF THE OTHER CONTENDERS IN THEIR RESPECTIVE RING HAVE FALLEN OFF INTO THE OCEAN, FALL UNCONSCIOUS, OR GIVE UP. UNTIL ONLY ONE FIGHTER REMAINS IN EACH RING AFTER ALL OTHERS ARE DEFEATED DO THEY PROCEED INTO THE NEXT ROUND!"
"So they're basically making it so that its a group of four pairs of fighters facing off in the next match. Sounds simple enough, but wouldn't that make these rounds really short in comparison to standard rounds?" Bulma asked curiously, not sure how to make of the new and original system of combating the IT competition was making.
Chi-Chi raised a hand up in understanding, easily grasping the concepts, "They're probably going to make each round be individual, allowing each pair to wait their turn before going on. That's probably how they intended to make the rounds last much longer."
"Ah," Bulma nodded, frowning as she cradled baby Trunks in her arms, staring at the screens with surprisingly fixated awe, "seems its a bit dramatic for a Tournament. This Mr. Cash seems to have a compulsion overdo things..."
"I think that's another reason why Vegeta and the others are so psyched. This will be a good way for people to recognize them for the talented fighters they really are," Chi-Chi spoke with satisfaction, balling her fist with a assured tone, hoping this would make up for the fact how shrewdly it was covered up all that time ago.
"I just hope none of the guys hurt that showboat too much. I don't think it would leave a good image for the rest of them after this Tournament is over," Bulma mused, briefly huffing at the thought of what she knew a certain someone would do, "not that Vegeta is going to go easy on him, after finding out what he did to cover up the whole incident..."
"Hush it, gals! I want to watch the fight!" 17 insisted vocally, as he noted the fighters being dropped off at their respective arenas, with most of the screen attention being placed upon the Tenkaichi Budokai effigy ring with Mr. Satan at its epicenter. His shouts and guffawing laughs already irritated the two women, but regardless awaited the inevitable battle to occur.
"AND JOINING US IS NONE OTHER THAN THE WORLD CHAMPION AND HERO OF THE CELL GAMES, HERRRRRRRRRCUUUUULE SAAAAAAAAAAATAAAAAAAN!"
The roar of unified cheers, shouts, and screams of hysterical joy of their savior appearing as a contender in the midst of the games gave them all an adrenaline rush. All but the four kept at their seats, hoping the excitement would die down long enough for the matches to start.
"THAT'S RIGHT FOLKS! THIS IS THE FIGHT OF A LIFETIME YOU ALL HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR! AND WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, LET THE MATCH BEGIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!"
And with a finale of thunderous applause and shouts, the battle for all eight arenas began, starting the show of conflict to proceed with intense skill and tenacity displayed between all the various contenders.
Only one, however, felt a substantial desire of trepidation and anxiety, standing among the easiest to stand-in ring. Hercule Satan.
Even as he began to move in and around the various martial artists, kick boxers, and street fighters, Hercule's mind wracked with an internal struggle and fear he hadn't felt since the real World Champion showed up on his doorstep. He wept inwardly, as he couldn't devise a single plan to counter the apparently stronger martial artists with wit or deception, or beat them conventionally.
He launched a series of hay-makers to knock out a few of the smaller ones, he sweat-dropped visibly as he flipped over a large sumo wrestler before kicking his legs out from under him, and then grappling his arm, throwing him amidst a good crowd of the others, forcing them all off the edge.
As he continued to preform at his best, which was significantly higher than most of the pretenders and hopefuls that attempted to overwhelm him, he couldn't help but inwardly cringe at the upcoming threats to his career and reputation held for him in the not-too-distant future.
"Damn that Videl! I told her not to answer the telephone, but she did anyways! Mister Moneybags caught me during one of my less sober moments and I agreed to his outrageous ideas. Not only am I not enjoying first class box seats and being denied the royalty service I, uh, deserve, but I have to fight through all of these guys! Talk about a lack of respect!" The con man thought as he kept up his series of rapid one-twos and quick, nimble acrobatic feats that kept pushing off more of his opponents than he did knock them out.
"Well, I've been in worse scrapes. I didn't think I'd make it out alive, let alone keep my distinguished title of Martial Arts Champion when Cell was around. Maybe the crafty devil in me can come up with something to keep these guys from ruining my day, and just hurt my pride a little bit temporarily," Mr. Satan reasoned with himself, as he spun on the balls of his feet, avoiding a half dozen wild leaps from amateurs before preforming his signature Dynamite Punch into the gut of a immensely tall competitor, causing him to fall to his knees as he gasped for air.
Mister Satan yelled out triumphantly as he knee-striked the man in the chin, sending him falling straight onto his back, as he yelled out in victory, as he finished the last of his opponents in what he felt like was record time, "Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
As the crowd roared, he could hear the sound of the other battles happening around him. He then realized that his stylish attacks were not drawing the crowd, but the crowd being drawn by the series of fighters defeating rows of enemies. As each one showed themselves within the midst, he felt his jaw lower farther and farther down to the ground.
"FOLLOWING MISTER SATAN, WE HAVE KRILLIN SUCCESSFULLY DEFEATING HIS OPPONENTS IN RING THREE!"
The bald-headed monk stood on the rapidly elevating and descending pillar-set stage with ease, as the other unconscious fighters joined their fellow opponents down into the water far below, awaking them from their rude, beaten-induced slumber. He held up a peace sign while wiping his nose with a hint of pride on his face.
"NEXT IS TRUNKS IN RING FIVE HAS DEFEATED HIS OPPONENTS!"
Standing perfectly at the center of the scale-like ring stood the stoic Saiyan-Human Hybrid, a smirk of confidence showing how he appreciated the applause sent his way, and how praised he was for finishing in such a timely fashion he had accomplished.
"PICCOLO AT RING TWO GOES TO THE NEXT ROUND!"
Directly next to Hercule's right was the inverted triangle ring. with the stoic Namkeian with his eyes closed and a hardened expression on his face. He didn't appear even awake, as he had taken out all of the competitors placed upon the unusual ring had fallen off into the water below.
"UPCOMING NOW IS GOHAN!"
As the voice of the announcer cheered, so did an excited teenager, smiling widely as he waved back at the crowd that cheered at him for defeating his opponents on his own respectively difficult ring.
"NEXT TO PASS IS TIEN SHINHAN!"
The burly three-eyed warrior smiled with pride, as he has barely used more than one hand to take down each of the amateur martial artists upon his oval shaped ring, showing a series of unconscious bodies sprawled around his proximity.
"YAMCHA PASSES INTO THE NEXT ROUND!"
"Alright!" The scar-faced ex-bandit raised his hands up into the air, soaking the ambient praise he felt thrown his way, as he stood atop a pile of unconscious and lop-sidedly stacked bodies of his own opponents, "that's right, who's the best?! Me! That's who! HAHAHA!"
"AND LAST, BUT NOT LEAST, VEGETA, HAVING PASSED WITHIN THE FIRST TEN SECONDS OF THE PRELIMINARY'S START!"
As the announcer spoke aloud, the name caused the aghast and haunted martial artist to turn to his immediate left, seeing him perfectly untouched as his own diamond, flat-faced shaped ring stood devoid of competitors. During the entirety of his jaw-dropped looks he gave all the following competitors, he had been smiling darkly at Hercule with a clear malicious intent that gave the man chills up his spine.
"Hello, World Champion, hahaha!" Vegeta greeted the man with a dark sense of humor, his eyes rekindling the terrifying memories his personally avowed focus of his aggression had to relive for many nights after visiting him and giving him his warning, "didn't I tell you this would happen?"
Hercule felt his throat go dry, and his eyes widen to levels of hysteria as he saw the sole object of his imminent doom, now confirmed by the contact of his eyes meeting the Saiyan prince's, believing he had completely run out of options.
"CONTENDERS! PLEASE STEP ON THE NEW RINGS, BEING PROJECTED OUT NEXT TO YOURS NOW!"
As the announcer spoke, four racks of tiled-top steel plating moved past their respectively unique battle areas. Once fully extended, it unfolded a large circular arena plate, giving it the radius of twenty meters from one end to the other, allowing for comfortable and aggressive combat to take place for the fighters designated upon it.
"IN THIS ROUND, WE HAVE RANDOMLY SELECTED FOUR PAIRS OF FIGHTERS TO COMPETE AGAINST EACH OTHER! THE SAME RULES APPLY TO THIS ROUND: IF YOU FALL OFF THE EDGE INTO THE OCEAN BELOW, FALL UNCONSCIOUS, OR ARE UNABLE TO FIGHT ANYMORE, YOU ARE DISQUALIFIED! THOSE THAT ARE VICTORIOUS CAN MOVE ONTO THE SEMI-FINALS!"
"This is it!" Gohan clenched his fists with excitement and a smile of joy crept upon his face. Finally, a battle worth his time spent training so hard over these past long months!
"As long as I'm not immediately paired up with Piccolo or the other Saiyans, I'm good," Krillin thought with great care, sweating nervously as he anticipated the exact opposite to occur for himself.
"Please let it not be Vegeta! Please oh please not Vegeta!" Yamcha clasped his hands in a symbolic gesture of hopeful prayer, as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly and gritted his teeth in trepidation. To what, he didn't know, but he hoped whatever deity deigned to be bring kindness his way would hear him now.
Tien stoically looked up at the distant, yet very visible large screen hovering in place at the epicenter of the top of Battle Island, patiently awaiting the results of the randomized selection process.
Piccolo kept his eyes closed the entire time, allowing his hearing to give him a clear picture of what was transpiring around him.
Trunks looked up quietly, his fingers tingled with excitement, already expecting a battle of grand proportions to ignite the moment he stepped upon the ring. He only wished they didn't pair him with the showboat personality, Mister Satan.
Hercule bit his lip as the names kept cycling in front of the screen, with each passing moment, making him more and more nervous. His fists, legs, and chest were shaking, in what distant onlookers would think would be a psyched-out look of eagerness. Contrastingly, the mighty World Champion was trembling inside with very real fear.
Then, the results showed...
Round 1 - Vegeta vs Hercule Satan
Round 2 - Trunks vs Tien Shinhan
Round 3 - Gohan vs Piccolo
Round 4 - Yamcha vs Krillin
...and the immediate first fight arrangement made Mr. Satan pale and his breath go silent. Turning his face to see a dark smile widen on the prince of all Saiyans, and a dark light lit behind his coal-colored irises.
Hercule knew when he made eye contact with that man, once again after so many months of pent-up fear and trepidation of meeting that gaze with his own, that this was it. This was the beginning of the end of his career.
To Be Continued...!
A/N: WHEW! That was a doozy. Seriously, I have been writing on this exposition and stuff for the past...almost a week, so there we go!
I got a lot of inspiration from my friends on trying to get some more humor and development of reoccurring characters, so I hope I did a good job. I wrote a lot in a short time, I don't know even if my editing it got everything squared away, so please PM me if I missed something, that'd be appreciated ^-^
Otherwise, I'm psyched about this next release! A lot of build-up was placed in this chapter alone so that you would be hyped up for the upcoming fights. I also threw our favorite Cyborg Twins, so involvement for them in the Bojack Tournament Arc is a definite. How much will they contribute? Well, we'll see, now won't we? ;)
Next time, we're going to go through the four fights, and maybe some analytical dialogue from our favorite DBZ gals and our Cyborgs. Hopefully this upcoming chapter will be as awesome in action, if not more-so, than the first one was. I appreciate all of the reviews and encouraging comments! So feel free to leave more comments and such after you're done reading :D
Until then, I'll be also working on a Co-Working projected called, The Other World Saga. This will basically be telling the story from Goku's perspective, as well as a lot of other well known, or underrated good characters we are aware of within the Afterlife of DBZ. If you have any suggestions or comments regarding that, please leave it in your review and/or send me a PM about it!