Dragon Ball Z Dynasty

by Feraligreater328

When travelling along Snake Way, Son Goku suddenly finds himself plummeting down to Hell. There, he meets a surprisingly familiar ghost from his past that promises to change everything about his life going forward. How will the Saiyan react to this sudden, positive change in his life? Find out in Dragon Ball Z Dynasty.

160. Chapter 158: The First Round Match-Ups!

Dragon Ball Z: Dynasty

Authors: Feraligreater328 and StevenBodner

Chapter 158: The First-Round Matchups!

At the Tournament Ring…

Slowly, Ranch lifted her head and rubbed a throbbing scrape. Thankfully, the bleeding had been stopped, a bandage taped over it. There were several monks surrounding her, a medial bag lying open on the ground next to one of them. Silently, she waved them off and stood up. She looked to her left and saw Trunks shooing away a nurse. She looked to her right and saw Goten chuckling as a monk handed him a lollipop from within the medical bag.

Finally, Ranch looked over in the ring and saw Koriocha standing there, her arm being fitted into a sling. The younger girl turned her head and saw Ranch standing there and she offered a wave and a proud smile. Koriocha had won the tournament, in part thanks to Ranch lending out her wool toque. Ranch smiled and waved back, then watched as Koriocha went walking up to the lumbering oaf that called himself the world champion.

With Koriocha's attention drawn, Ranch looked up into the crowd, seeing her mother talking to Ms. Suno. Then, her smile faded when she saw her father. She stared for a long moment at her father, but he was heavily focused on his phone. He didn't look up for even a second. Ranch sighed and began to walk toward the fighter's waiting area, where she quickly disappeared from sight. Her plan to earn her father's attention had ended in utter failure.

In the ring, Mr. Satan smiled down at the blushing Koriocha. He got down onto one knee, doing his best to hide his trepidation at dealing with this pint-sized superhuman, and gave her a pat on her uninjured shoulder. "Well, little lady, congrats on your win! You're a champion now, just like ol' Mr. Satan, so I wanted to look you in the eye as I said this: I'm proud to call you a fellow champion~"

Koriocha blushed. "Th-Thank you, sir!"

Mr. Satan nodded and stood up, clearing his throat. "But, I might have to go back on our exhibition, okay? Your arm is in a sling, so we can't fight each other at our best. If we're gonna show off, I want to show off when you're at 100% strength!"

For a moment, Mr. Satan expected the girl to fight or throw a fit. He had no way of knowing just how relieved Koriocha was on the inside to not have to hot-dog in front of a crowd anymore. She smiled a bright, sunny smile at him. "We'll do it someday!"

Mr. Satan flinched, a bead of sweat running down the side of his face. Then, with a nervous smile, he shot Koriocha a thumbs-up. Quickly, Mr. Satan turned and whispered the situation into Vale's ear. The announcer looked disappointed, but he nodded in understanding. Holding up the mic, he spoke. "Ladies and gentlemen, due to her arm being sprained, the exhibition match between Koriocha and Mr. Satan is being postponed until further notice! But, in the meantime, the champ insists that we give Ms. Koriocha one last cheer for her victory!"

On cue, the crowd erupted into another roaring cheer. Immediately, Koriocha's face turned a deep shade of blue. She froze in place, taking in the overwhelming crowd around her, and then, with a dumbstruck smile and a hysterical laugh, Koriocha fell to the ground into a total state of unconsciousness.

In the crowd…

Chi-Chi sighed, looking annoyed as she stared daggers at Mr. Satan. "Poor Koriocha. I was hoping that she'd get to knock that big gorilla's lights out!"

Suno nervously chuckled. "Now, now. After what we've seen today, I'm sure Koriocha is just thankful she doesn't have to fight for a crowd anymore. Honestly, I wasn't expecting her to have stage-fright, especially that bad. Yamcha and I might have to look into helping her get over that..."

Suno turned. "What do you think, Launch?"

Blonde Launch looked troubled, quickly scanning the entire arena below. "I looked away for a second. Where the heck did Ranch go?"

She elbowed her husband. "Raditz! Put your phone down for a second! Have you seen Ranch?"

Raditz looked up from his phone, putting his favorite picture he managed to snap of Ranch fighting on as his home screen. He did a quick scan of the arena as well. "I don't see her..."

He closed his eyes and quickly scanned the area with his ki sense. "And from what I can feel, she's hiding her Ki. She must be... upset."

Bulma nodded. "Sounds about right. She's a headstrong girl, Raditz. But, and I'm not trying to pick on you, you might want to seek her out later and try to talk to her. Okay?"

Raditz sighed, putting his phone to sleep and shoving in the breast pocket of his suit jacket. "Yeah..."

Back in the ring…

Mr. Satan gently picked up the unconscious Koriocha and set her on the waiting stretcher. "Poor lil' thing must not do well in front of crowds. When she wakes up, you make sure she gets whatever she wants as a snack! Tell 'em that it's on Mr. Satan's tab!"

The two monks obediently nodded and picked up the stretcher, carrying Koriocha away. Mr. Satan sighed and turned, flinching with a yelp as he almost plowed right into Goten. "Wh-Whoa! Ya scared me there, little fella!"

Goten smiled. "Sorry about that! Is Koriocha okay?"

Mr. Satan sighed, regaining his composure. "Are you her friend?"

He nodded. "Yup! She's my godsister!"

Mr. Satan nodded. "Well, she'll be fine. Just a bit overwhelmed, I think. If you wanna go sit with her in the infirmary, you can! Tell 'em I said you can have whatever snacks you want too. My treat!"

Goten's eyes sparkled. "R-Really?! Gee, that's so nice of you, mister!"

Mr. Satan smiled, planting his fists onto his hips and giving a boisterous laugh. "It's the least the World Champ can do to provide such excellent young martial artists with an afternoon snack!"

Goten jumped up and down. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

Mr. Satan chuckled. "What's yer name, son?"

Goten beamed. "Son Goten!"

At that, Mr. Satan faltered ever so slightly. As he looked carefully at Goten, he noticed the undeniable resemblance the boy had to a certain someone, especially with that distinct hairstyle. "Uh... S-Son Goten, huh? W-Well, not that it's any of my business, but, uh, what's yer dad's name, son?"

Goten answered immediately. "Son Goku!"

All at once, the terrible memories from the Cell Games rose up once more and an image Mr. Satan had long buried flashed in his head. That look of sadness on Son Goku's face as he saw Mr. Satan laying there. That look that he had just before Mr. Satan forced him to not finish off Cell. Mr. Satan swallowed a lump in his throat. "W-Well... ain't that just a heck of a coincidence..."

Goten cocked his head. "A... coin... dent?"

Mr. Satan shook his head. "N-Nevermind that! Just make sure you get whatever you want for a snack. Cost ain't a factor! You fought hard, you're the runner up of the Junior Division, just... treat yourself!"

Goten smiled and laughed. "Yay! Thank you!"

And then, he ran off to follow after Koriocha. Mr. Satan groaned and looked around. He wanted to give some words of encouragement to the other two kids, but they were both already gone. He looked up at the sky and, to his surprise, his mouth went dry. "I wonder if... Son Goku is here for the tournament?"

With a sigh, Mr. Satan shot his v-victory sign at the crowd one more time, listening to them roar out a hardy cheer, and then he turned and exited back out through the waiting area. He could feel a headache coming on and he needed a nap.

With Mr. Satan having departed, Vale held the microphone up to his mouth. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, concludes the Junior Division! Make sure that you're all back in your seats no later than 7:30 this evening! At 8 o'clock sharp, we will be announcing the 16 finalists of this year's World Tournament, as well as the bracket that will decide who is fighting who! Until then, please enjoy the various amenities of Papaya Island!"

Vale motioned toward the fighter's waiting area. "All tournament fighters, please report to the South Pavilion for the preliminaries!"

Up in the spectator's balcony…

As the crowd cleared out of the stands below, Videl smiled. "Good for Koriocha! After we get done with the preliminaries this evening, I think I might stop by your hotel to give her my best in person!"

Yamcha smiled. "Well, you're her predecessor! So, I'm sure she'd be grateful for any praise or advice you have to offer her!"

Videl turned toward Yamcha with a smile, giving him a courteous little bow. "I also wanted to congratulate you on a job well done in training her. You too, Goku!"

Goku rubbed the back of his head. "Aw shucks! Goten was plenty talented before I started trainin' him!"

Videl turned. "You too, uh... Vegeta."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "I don't need to be told my son is strong by someone I barely know."

Vegeta went walking without another word and Videl scowled. "What the hell is his problem?"

Chiaotzu went floating by. "He's a dick."

Tien shrugged. "Try not to let it get to you. The longer you're integrated into this group, the more you get used to it."

Krillin chuckled. "It just kinda becomes white noise after a while."

Nam sighed. "He seems like a very unpeaceful individual."

Upa smiled. "But he keeps Goku as his company, so he can't be that bad~"

The rest of the fighters began to walk off. Android 18 turned and winked. "Don't worry, though, if one of us ends up in a match with him, we'll dedicate the first punch to you~"

Piccolo growled. "Speak for yourself. I would personally air out my grievances in chronological order."

Android 17 gave a small, snarky laugh. "Pfft~"

Soon enough, Gohan and Videl followed along with the others, headed toward the South Pavilion. Gohan was nervously quiet. He didn't know what to say after what Videl had seen. After a long silence, Videl spoke. "Gohan."

Gohan yelped. "Y-Yes?!"

She glanced over at him. "You and I both know that we have something important to talk about. I'm not going to say anything more than that. But you... have not been honest with me about something intimately personal between the two of us, I feel, and I want to address it."

Gohan swallowed a lump in his throat. Videl sighed. "Not now, though. We have a tournament to focus on at the moment. Once all is said and done, though, we need to sit down and discuss Gyosan Mane Island. Okay?"

Silently, the disguised Saiyan nodded. "Y-Yes..."

In another part of the tournament grounds…

And so, there Ranch found herself, huddled up inside a bush as far away as she could get from prying eyes on such short notice. She could hear people passing by just outside her leafy, little shelter, but they had no idea that she was there. None of them could hear her, which she was very thankful for.

At first, the pain in Ranch's chest was numb. She had lost and she had failed, and that was that. But now, it was really setting in just what had happened and she could feel it cracking inside, spreading through her chest like a dire wound. A single tear dropped and slid down her cheek, and then a sob. Ranch reached up for her hat, wanting to pull it down over her face, but then she remembered that Koriocha had it. With no private sanctuary to escape to, Ranch buried her face into her knees and used every bit of strength she had left to avoid crying her eyes out.

And then, a sudden rustle of leaves made Ranch flinch in shock. She prepared to lash out at whoever dared to disturb her grief, only to relax when she saw Trunks' dumb, round face poke through. Trunks smiled. "Hey... I was looking for you..."

Ranch frowned, curling back into a defensive position. "What the hell do you want, Trunks? I don't wanna play right now..."

Trunks sighed, quickly crawling into the bush and scooting as close to Ranch as felt safe. "I... I get that. I don't really wanna play either. I'm pissed!"

Ranch looked up, her eyes puffy. Trunks groaned. "I didn't want to enter that stupid Junior Division anyway! I wanted to be in the actual tournament!"

Trunks paused, thinking about something that would make Ranch stop crying without pointing out that she was crying in the first place. He scowled. "AND YOU KICKED ME OUT FIRST! WHAT THE HELL KINDA DISS IS THAT! I THOUGHT YOU LIKED ME!"

For a long moment, Trunks waited. He was hoping for some sort of jab back. A snarky comment. A smug smile. Anything. But, to his dismay, Ranch simply buried her face again. Trunks was at a loss as he watched her shoulders slump, and then begin to shake. At the sight of that, Trunks immediately forgot that the Junior Division had even happened. After a long, uncomfortable silence, Trunks smiled. "You know, I'm pretty hungry. I'd love to have someone to share a soft pretzel and a... blueberry lemonade with."

Ranch's shoulder stopped shaking. She gave a near silent sniffle and then lifted her head, locking eyes with Trunks. "... I could go for something blueberry flavored."

Trunks nodded. Ranch considered for a moment, and then spoke again. "Maybe... a cup of cheese dip for the pretzel?"

Trunks beamed. "You got it! Just stay right here, I'll be back in no time!"

Carefully, Trunks pushed his head out of the bush to scan for any meddling adults. Once he was sure that the coast was clear, he leapt out all at once.

Ranch listened to the sound of his boots clapping against the set stone path. Again, she was alone in a bush. Ranch sighed. "I failed. How am I gonna get Dad to pay attention to me now...?"

With no answer apparent for that question, Ranch simply buried her face back into her knees and waited. It seemed like an eternity came and went. At first, the same furious, ugly thoughts that normally filled Ranch's head swirled around, but then the storm slowly died. Ranch's head was empty. Her thoughts were silent. She was all alone in the universe, in the world, on this island, sealed away in a little bush.

And then Trunks crashed back into the foliage and Ranch shuddered in shock and surprise. "D-Dude! Give some warning before you come barreling in like that!"

Trunks gave a nervous little chuckle. "S-Sorry! Sorry! H-Here! Here's the pretzel and lemonade!"

Ranch gave Trunks a healthy dose of side eye, nodding in thanks as she accepted the snack. She tore off bits of pretzel, dipping them into the cup of nacho cheese dip and carefully chewing them up. She sloshed the cup of lemonade, distributing the small lake of blue syrup on top down into the entire drink, and took a hearty sip. The entire time, Trunks was sitting there with a giddy look on his face, as if he was impatient for her to finish.

Finally, a bit of bite returned to Ranch and she sneered. "What the hell are you vibrating like an idiot for?"

Trunks chuckled. "I just saw the weirdest thing happen while I was getting your pretzel and your drink!"

Ranch was uneasy. "... And?"

Trunks beamed, reaching behind him and producing a ridiculous costume with a massive, ugly grease stain on it. "I've got the coolest idea~"

Ranch was taken aback as Trunks drew in closer. But... he did try his best to cheer her up, so what could the harm be in hearing him out?

At the Southern Pavilion…

The Z-Fighters marched into the South Pavilion and looked around to find that they were the last to arrive. Standing off to one side of the building were Shin and Kibito, whispering to each other in voices so low that even Piccolo couldn't quite make out what they were saying. Then, scanning from one side to the other, they observed that woman wrestler in the cow costume, Gyuhime, Spike the Devilman, the Yakuza Kazuma Kiryu, Pintar, Pamput, Killa the boxer and Jewel the pretty boy, Ran Fan, King Chappa, Monster Beast Giran, Caroni and Pirozhki, the foul-smelling Bacterian, and the young fighter Silas.

Finally, on the other side of the room, Tien and Piccolo observed those other two fighters, Spopovich and Yamu. And the mere sight of them still made Tien's skin crawl. "And here I was hoping that they'd get lost..."

Goku looked over to his three-eyed friend. "What's up?"

Tien shook his head. "Nothing."

Then Nam spoke. "Well, Goku, it has been a treat to spend time with you again. I am going to meditate in preparation for my first match. I hope to look forward to facing you again, in the tournament proper."

Goku smiled and offered a fist bump, which Nam graciously accepted. Upa looked around. "Hm. We seem to be one person short. Including us, I only count 31 heads. I wonder if we might have a straggler?"

As if on cue, Vale entered from the opposite side of the room with a regretful look on his face. He clearly had some bad news to share. Raising his voice just a bit, he called out to the room. "Attention all contestants! Unfortunate news! It would appear that, due to a freak mishap at one of the soft pretzel stands, contestant Mighty Mask is-"

A somewhat high-pitched voice shouted out. "RIGHT HERE!"

And then Mighty Mask came bounding in through the door, clearly somewhat unsure on his feet. His dark cowl hung strangely on his face and his white tunic had a massive grease stain spread across most of the chest. The lumbering fighter came to a jerky stop and struck a pose with, seemingly, only the upper half of his body.

Vale cocked his head. "A-Are you sure you want to compete, Mr. Mighty Mask? From what I was told, you suffered third-degree burns in your search for a soft pretzel and a corndog."

Mighty Mask laughed, planting his fists not into his hips, but slightly higher. "ACTUALLY, THEY WERE TWELFTH DEGREE BURNS! But that doesn't matter! Burns or no burns, I'm still going to kick the butt of every loser in the building!"

With a suicidal amount of confidence, Mighty Mask thrusted one of his yellow-gloved fingers right in the direction of the Z-Fighters. "I HOPE YOU LOSERS ARE READY TO CRY TO YOUR MAMAS!"

Gohan, Krillin, Videl looked mortified. Goku and Upa chuckled. Yamcha, Chiaotzu, and 17 looked indifferent. Piccolo, Tien, Vegeta, and 18 all shot him a death glare that would have made Frieza and Cell both wince. Mighty Mask swallowed a lump in his throat. "B-But... uh..."

He quickly turned to Vale, once again bowing just a bit too high on his chest, as if he were an improperly drawn cartoon. "But, yeah! I'm here!"

And then, without any further words, Mighty Mask scampered off into a corner as far from the Z Fighters as possible.

As Vale started talking, explaining the rules of the preliminaries one more time, a massive bulge emerged in Mighty Mask's stomach, shooting up and punching himself in the chest. And then, Ranch's whisper-yelling voice cried out from just above Mighty Mask's belt. "What the hell was that?! Are you trying to draw attention to us?!"

Inside the tunic, Trunks looked down at the girl whose shoulders he was sitting on, whisper-yelling right back. "Why'd you hit me?!"

Ranch scowled. "Because this is a stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid idea... And you're just acting extra stupid!"

Trunks countered. "It's an amazing idea! We get to fight the adults! And then, when we win the tournament, we get to kick the crap out of that Mr. Satan dolt! Once we beat him, we whip off the costume and everyone cheers! I get to have the glory and that cool-ass belt! You get all of your dad's attention and adoration! It's a win-win!"

Ranch cowed a bit, thinking of a scenario where her father might actually praise her. She grumbled. "I can't even see in here. Why'd I have to be the legs?"

Trunks whispered back. "Because I have the deeper voice to draw less attention. And because you're just a bit taller than me. Now, quick! While no one's looking, poke yourself some eye holes..."

Videl didn't look over, because staring was impolite, but she mumbled to herself. "He's talking to himself in two different voices. Is he, like, two people in a costume? No, that's ridiculous. He's probably schizophrenic, or...?"

Gohan, standing next to her, was thinking to himself. 'Are twelfth-degree burns actually a thing? I don't think so...'

Piccolo, the one person who could have exposed that ruse immediately, was too busy trying to tune in on what Shin and Kibito were saying. Piccolo wasn't nosy by nature, but the fact that he couldn't make out their words even as he focused on them bothered him a great deal. How were they doing that?

Vale was just finishing his spiel. "And, finally, it has come to the attention of the tournament board over the past few tournaments that we occasionally have some psychics meddling in the lot drawing process..."

One couldn't see it behind his sunglasses, but he was staring directly at Chiaotzu. "... so, for these preliminaries, we have decided to use an electronic system to avoid any unnecessary bracket fixing. It will take just a moment for us to boot it up, then we will get things underway!"

As the other monks got about rigging up the computer system, Vale walked over to the Z-Fighters with a genuinely warm smile on his face. "Son Goku. Ma Junior. Krillin. Yamcha. Tien Shinhan. Cheater."

Chiaotzu chuckled. "Prove it."

Vale nodded. "And yet you think I'm talking about you~ But, fair enough."

He smiled. "I'm really excited to have you all back. The 24th Tournament was such a snooze fest without you guys showing up to really showcase the limits of martial arts. I'm even happy to have you back, Junior. But... how about we leave the ring intact this time~"

Piccolo smirked. "We'll see..."

Vale turned to take in the rest of the competitors. "And, even without you guys, we have Nam, Giran, King Chappa, and Pamput here. It's high time some real fighters returned for the tournament!"

Krillin chuckled. "And, we've brought some new tough customers as well! Like my wife here!"

Vale nodded. "The lovely Ms. Number 18, I understand?"

He took her hand and kissed it and 18 smiled. "Ah, an actual gentleman! Most people who go for that hand-kissing schtick in my other job are lying through their teeth."

Goku pointed to the others. "We also have Upa here! And 18's brother!"

Vale shook Upa's hand and nodded at 17. "Mr. Lapis, correct?"

Lapis nodded back. "Yup."

Goku wrapped his arms over the last two sets of shoulders. "And these guys are my friend, Vegeta, and my son, Gohan! Though, I think he wants to be called, uh..."

Vale held out his hand for a handshake. "The Great Saiyaman. Of course, we'll strive to keep your identity as private as you would prefer, young man."

Saiyaman nodded and shook his head. "Thanks."

Vale offered Vegeta a handshake and, to most of the other Z-Fighters' surprise, Vegeta took it without issue. 18 cocked her head. "Not gonna be difficult? Are you sick?"

Vegeta shrugged. "This one seems respectable. You should learn and take notes."

Vale looked over. "Ah! And I see that the esteemed daughter of our current champion is among your group too! Nice to see you, Videl."

Videl smiled. "Nice to see you again, Vale. Looking sharp."

Vale chuckled and sighed. "I really am glad you're all here. Maybe you can throw the riff-raff out early and we can have a real show."

Goku tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

Vale sighed. "Well, I'm not going to sugarcoat it. Mr. Satan was the only real martial artist at the 24th Tournament."

Yamcha flinched. "O-Oh... yikes."

Vale nodded. "Most of the other returning 24th alumni that are here today are showboaters. Flashes in the pan. In some cases, like Gyuhime, corporate mascots who are looking to use the tournament to promote their brand. And then, we have the real dregs... like Spopovich and Yamu."

Piccolo sneered. Tien spoke up. "And what's wrong with them, exactly?"

Vale sighed. "Well, whereas the former and current champions and Cell Games competitors like Mr. Satan, Goku, and Tien here are doing their best to show off their true martial arts mastery... in the exact opposite direction, we have Spopovich and Yamu. In the last tournament, Yamu went out in the first round and then attacked me over the ruling. Spopovich, meanwhile, made it to the finals where he lost to Mr. Satan, and then threw such a hissy fit about the loss that we had to replace an entire building."

17 rolled his eyes. "They both sound so pleasant."

Vale spoke very honestly. "They're a couple of bums."

For the first time, Saiyaman and Videl looked over and actually took in the sight of Spopovich and Yamu. There was something there that both of them knew they recognized, but they could quite put their fingers on it. Saiyaman frowned. Videl bit onto her thumbnail, her eyes searching for just what it was.

And then her eyes fell right onto it and she gasped. "Gohan..."

Saiyaman looked down at her. Videl pulled her thumb away from her mouth and poked it directly into the center of her forehead. Saiyaman's eyes widened behind his sunglasses. He turned his attention back to the two haunting fighters and he immediately noticed it as well. In the center of each of their foreheads, plain as day, the same "M" marking from that night. Saiyaman was taken aback. "What the hell...?"

Piccolo looked down at his student and his student's girlfriend and then looked back at Spopovich and Yamu. There were four uneasy feelings now. This was going to turn into something, he could just feel it.

Before any more commentary could be made on the two ghastly brutes, the monk working the computer stuck his thumb up into the air. "Mr. Vale! We've got it ready!"

Vale adjusted his tie with a smile. "Super!"

With a skip in his step, Vale marched up to the computer and swept his hand over the gathered crowd. "Ladies and gents, I am very excited for this tournament today! Never before, have we had such a stacked preliminary as this! We have not one! Not two! Not even three! But FOUR former world champions in contention today! Let's start this off by paying our due respect to Son Goku, Tien Shinhan, King Chappa, and Spike the Devilman!"

The room erupted into a storm of applause, everyone except for Spopovich, Yamu, and Vegeta paying the necessary respect to the notable warriors present. Annoyed, 18 elbowed Vegeta in the ribs and he gave a sarcastic little golf clap near the end. Vale beamed like the sun. "Now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's not wait any further! Let the drawing for the first preliminary match begin!"

The monk on the computer clicked a button and a digital screen came to life behind Vale. Rapidly, every gathered name flashed across the screen, eventually landing on the first match-up. Vale motioned to the screen and cried out. "First up: Lapis vs Pamput!"

17 blinked twice. "Wow. Already, huh? Cool."

He and Pamput both stepped forward. Vale motioned to a door on the wall behind him. "The two of you will enter the private ring and be overseen by our panel of three judges. If a deciding blow is not delivered within 10 minutes, they will call the match and make the decision for who will progress forward!"

The two warriors nodded. Vale clenched his fist. "Contestants, if you are ready, then please proceed into the private ring!"

Android 17 and Pamput both marched toward the door. 17 looked over at his unfortunate opponent with a smile. "May the best man win?"

Pamput looked over to see that 17 was offering a fist bump. He gratefully accepted. "Indeed, my friend. Indeed."

In the private ring…

17 and Pamput walked into a sparse room. The only thing other than the stone floor beneath their feet was a single platform with three tournament monks sitting on it. The monk in the center raised his hand. "You may begin immediately!"

The two fighters stood across from one another, 17 adjusting his gloves and Pamput tightening his wrist tape. Pamput smirked. "Since my loss to that friend of yours, Son Goku, I have undergone extreme training in 5 different boxing styles. I've rebuilt myself into a newer and better Pamput!"

17 chuckled. "I certainly know what it's like to be rebuilt. I can't wait to see if your enhancements matchup to mine, buddy~"

Pamput's smile faded. He sucked his teeth. And then, to 17's surprise, he quickly disappeared from sight. 17's eyes went wide. "Whoa, faster than I thought..."

Then, he raised his forearm and blocked a hefty kick from the side. 17 turned to Pamput, his nose wrinkled in confusion. "What the hell kind of boxing style requires its user to kick?"

Pamput smirked and leapt back. "Kick...boxing!"

17 rolled his eyes. "Oh, brother..."

The Android made his move, speeding close into Pamput's range. If Pamput was surprised, he didn't show it. Recalling his last fight with Goku, the boxer moved his defense to his core, blocking his stomach and repelling a jab from 17. 17 nodded and went for a spin kick. Pamput ducked and returned several Wing Chun style jabs. 17 blocked each with ease, repelling them with his open palm.

Pamput growled and went for a Muay Thai elbow strike to the side of Lapis' head. 17 ducked down, flipping back onto his hands and then springing back toward Pamput, stomping both feet into the fighter's gut and sending him smashing into a wall. Pamput coughed and sputtered, and slid down to the ground unconscious. 17 hopped up to his feet and sighed. "Shoulda kept defending your core, my guy."

Back in the South Pavilion…

The gathered fighters watched as 17 and Pamput walked out of the private ring, 17 looking no worse for wear and Pamput gravely clutching his stomach. Before Vale could even think of announcing who won, everyone could tell. The announcer adjusted his sunglasses and called out. "Our first finalist: Lapis!"

17 shot two peace signs at the crowd, and then turned to Pamput to offer a handshake. Pamput glared, but returned a firm grip. He sighed. "This won't be the last you see of me. Next tournament!"

17 smirked. "You bet."

Vale turned to the monk at the computer. "The next matchup, please!"

The computer once again scrambled through the remaining names. Eventually, it popped up the next matchup and Vale smiled. "Next up: Son Goku vs King Chappa!"

Goku smiled. "Oh boy! Already?"

King Chappa seemed less than enthused. "You must be kidding me..."

The two warriors marched toward the private ring and Goku chuckled. "How have you been, King Chappa? Doing good?"

King Chappa sighed. "Better than the last time we saw each other. I'm not dying this time."

Goku seemed confused. "When did I see you dying?"

The wait was not that long. After a few moments, Goku and King Chappa emerged and the King looked genuinely frustrated. Goku smiled and slapped him on the back. "It was a good fight! See ya next tournament!"

King Chappa sighed. "Honestly, retirement is sounding more like my next option at this moment..."

Vale nodded, shouting to the gathered crowd. "It would appear that our second finalist is Son Goku!"

Once again, the computer began scrambling. Soon enough, it spat out two more names. Vale called out. "Next up: Ma Junior vs Monster Beast Giran!"

Piccolo and Giran both stepped forward, Giran cracking his knuckles. "Yer looking kinda green, little guy! Not feeling up to it today?"

Piccolo looked his opponent up and down. "Are you sure you want to step in that ring without a little white flag to wave?"

A vein bulged from Giran's forehead, and he stomped into the private ring well ahead of Piccolo. The Namekian followed with a smirk on his face. The wait this time lasted not even half a minute as Piccolo came strolling back out, Giran's unconscious bulk slumped over his shoulder. He looked at Vale and nodded. "I won."

Vale quickly agreed. "Our third finalist is Ma Junior!"

The computer began to scramble again and then spat out two more names. "Next up: Spike the Devilman vs Bacterian!"

Spike and Bacterian both stepped forward. Immediately, Spike pinched his nose. "Good lord."

Bacterian chuckled. "Dahahahahaha~! I'm gonna crush ya!"

The two warriors marched into the private ring, Spike careful not to accidentally brush against Bacterian as they passed through the door. It was a quick match. Several times, those waiting outside heard the sound of Spike retching or dry-heaving. Tien had a bead of sweat run down the side of his face. "Is this Bacterian truly that foul?"

Krillin nodded. "Yes."

Yamcha scratched the back of his head. "And poor Spike is usually fighting over a massive toilet, so that sure does tell ya something..."

After a few minutes, Spike emerged from the private ring, covered in grease and slime and untold gunk. "I... *huff* *huff*... won..."

He shuddered as the medical staff, dressed in biohazard gear, wheeled the unconscious Bacterian out on a gurney. Spike looked over to Vale. "May I please... please... depart early to go take a shower?"

Pinching his nose, Vale nodded in approval. "Of course! Our fourth finalist is Spike the Devilman!"

One Spike had made his grateful and speedy exit, the computer began to scramble again, spitting out the next two names that Vale would read off. "Next up: The Great Saiyaman vs Silas!"

The two competitors stepped up. Saiyaman adopted his best superhero pose and took a secret glance over at his opponent. This young man was in his early twenties, dressed in an all canvas coat with a fur-lined collar and cuffs and a pair of fingerless gloves. He pulled up his goggles and looked over at Saiyaman, giving a friendly wink. "Demos lo mejor de nosotros, amigo~"

Saiyaman flinched, then coughed into his fist. "P-Pardon me! I am not quite fluent in Spanish!"

Silas nodded. "I said let's give it our best!"

Saiyaman nodded. "Y-Yes! Indeed!"

And thus, the two warriors marched side-by-side into the private ring.

In the private ring…

Saiyaman and Silas both stood across from one another, sizing each other up. Saiyaman took on a fighting stance. "I'm ready to start whenever you are!"

Silas smirked. "Certainly~"

And then, he jabbed his right index finger into the air. Saiyaman watched studying carefully as the part of Silas' finger that was sticking out of the glove suddenly exploded into a strong, rainbow-colored flame. Saiyaman focused his senses on the flame and smiled. "Oh, wow! You can utilize Ki?"

Silas nodded. "Yup. It's a necessary component of my special technique, passed down through my clan for generations! You wanna see it?"

Saiyaman nodded, not daring to drop his defense. "Sure."

Silas grinned. "I like you, esse."

And then, Silas drew his finger down slowly, leaving a curving arch of crackling rainbow fire swirling in the air. "Mañana..."

He held out his palm, focusing all his energy onto the curved, flaming arch. "Tarde..."

The flames grew more furious, bursting with energy and intensity. Silas reached out and grabbed it, the sheer heat sizzling against his gloves but not daring to burn his skin. He drew the arch behind his head and over his shoulders, raising it high up into the air. Silas took a deep breath, and then slammed the raging rainbow fire down onto his shoulders. "Atardecer!"

All at once, the fur-lined collar of Silas' jacket burst into a raging torrent of fire. The flames licked all the way down his arms, leaving distinct patterns as they latched onto and ignited his cuffs. He smirked and then rushed at Saiyaman, clearing the space between them in a blink. "I am Silas, the latest star student of the Sunbreaker School!"

He slipped his hand between Saiyaman's defense and slapped it against the disguised Saiyan's chest. "And you, amigo, are finished!"

Saiyaman flinched in shock as he burst into flames, being flung back from the force of Silas' blow and straight into a wall. Silas smirked and Saiyaman, though pushed back, quickly got his feet under him. He was in a great deal of pain, all things considered. Every inch of his body was on fire with these strange, multi-colored flames. Quickly, he tried to use his energy to suppress them, gasping in shock as that completely failed.

Saiyaman tried patting them out and Silas wagged his finger. "Sorry, buddy, that won't work! The only way to extinguish those flames is to beat me! Nothing else will put them out!"

Saiyaman cringed, looking down at his burning hands and yet seeing no signs of charring. These flames were certainly nothing in the ordinary. They hurt like hell, but they didn't scorch. They were clean. Honest. Rich with Silas' energy and the heat from his soul. After a moment, Saiyaman smiled. "Okay then..."

He took on his fighting stance. "Beat you in a fight to put them out? Let's do it!"

That response put a massive, beaming smile on Silas' face. "Mi amigo! Eres jodidamente genial!"

A torrent of flames erupting from his feet, Silas rocketed toward Saiyaman with his fist drawn. Saiyaman rushed right back and the two of them clashed, a massive shockwave of flames and energy shooting out in a massive circle.

Back in the South Pavilion…

To the surprise of all the Z-Fighters, the 10-minute time limit was called. Very quickly, a monk came rushing out of the private ring and whispered into Vale's ear. The announcer nodded and then turned to watch as Saiyaman and Silas both came marching out of the room. Saiyaman, to the astonishment of Goku and Piccolo, actually had a busted lip. Silas was groaning, nursing a black eye. Vale called out. "Our fifth finalist, by a 2-1 judgment, The Great Saiyaman!"

Saiyaman smiled, turning to Silas and patting him on the back. "That was a good match, Silas. Almost had me there."

Silas sighed. "Buddy, don't lie to me. You were holding back and we both know it."

Saiyaman flinched, wondering if it was really that obvious. Silas chuckled and gave him a playful punch to the chest. "You better win this entire thing, esse. I'll be cheering you on!"

Saiyaman smiled. "You got it~"

As Saiyaman returned to his spot with the Z-Fighters and Silas wandered out of the South Pavilion, the computer scrambled and produced the next two names. Vale called them out. "Next up: Gyuhime the Cow Princess vs Ranfan!"

Gyuhime and Ranfan both stepped up. Ranfan looked over at her opponent and sized her up.

Vale was correct, this persona was certainly just a prime example of a walking, cynical marketing tool. A pretty face with exquisite curves, ample bust, luscious flowing black hair, and a dazzling white smile. Taking advantage of that, she posted from head to foot with various dairy brands on her tacky little costume. But at the very least, the woman clearly took her fitness seriously, as her musculature was rather built-up and well-defined.

Gyuhime glanced over at Ranfan and adopted a cocky little grin. She flipped back her long black hair, carefully avoiding the tacky plastic horns sticking out of the sides of her wrestling mask. "What's the matter, grandma? Nostalgic for the times when your ass was made of something other than cellulite?"

Ranfan snarled. "I'm going to knock your teeth out, brat!"

The two contestants walked into the private ring, Gyuhime shoving Ranfan to the side so she could enter first. This match didn't take nearly as long as Saiyaman's. In less than 2 minutes, the winner was made known by Ranfan flying through the door, a massive bruise already swelling on her chin. Gyuhime marched out, smiling from ear-to-ear in triumph. She flexed both of her sizable biceps and shouted a catchphrase. "Remember, kids, always drink your milk~!"

Vale sighed in frustration and a bit of undisguised disgust. "Our sixth finalist is Gyuhime the Cow Princess. Great."

Already, the computer was scrambling for the next two call ups. Vale looked at the screen and nodded. "Next up: Mighty Mask vs Killa!"

Killa stepped forward. A tall, dark-skinned man with buzzed black hair and a well-muscled frame, he was dressed like a boxer getting ready for a sparring match with his cloth wrapped around his arms. To which, he threw five of the cleanest punches a boxer had ever managed and flashy an award-winning grin. "What's up, smokey?! Let's do it!"

Stumbling, as if still getting used to the feeling of having to walk, Mighty Mask came barreling up next to Killa. For a moment, Killa seemed unsure of his opponent, but then he shrugged. "Easy win's an easy win, man."

The two marched into the private ring and after a few moments, Killa's battle cry rang out. Tien looked at Piccolo. "So, who do you think wins this one?"

Piccolo snorted. "Does it matter?"

Tien shrugged. "In the grand scheme, no. But these two were about equal if I remember, so-"

Tien didn't get to finish his thought. With a massive crack, Killa came flying out of the private ring much in the same way Ranfan had, a broken nose pulsing bright red in the center of his bug-eyed face. Soon after, Mighty Mask came stumbling out, pumping his fists into the air and chanting. "Vic...to...ry! Vic...to...ry! Vic...to...ry!"

Vale called out. "Our seventh finalist is Mighty Mask!"

As he walked off to his spot over in the corner, it almost looked like Mighty Mask tried to fold in half, but he quickly regained his balance and went back to mumbling about himself. A drop of sweat slid down the side of Videl's face. "Freak."

And then, to Videl's surprise, Vale called out her name. "Next up: Videl vs Caroni!"

Videl looked over to Saiyaman, who immediately shot her a smile and a thumbs-up. Goku chuckled behind her. "Looks like you're up! Make sure you give it your all!"

Videl took a deep breath and nodded. "R-Right!"

Quickly, she ran up to the front and stood next to Caroni. Her Uncle Caroni. The older martial artist looked down at Videl and smiled a warm, caring smile. "I wish you the best of luck, Princess. But, please, do not make the mistake of thinking that I'm going to take it easy on you~"

Videl smiled back. "Uncle Caroni, I'm grateful to you for everything you've taught me, and all of the times you agreed to be my sparring partner the moment I asked... I would never disrespect you with anything less than my all."

Together, the two of them began their walk into the private ring. Videl cracked her knuckles. "One request, though."

Caroni looked down at her. "Yes?"

She smiled. "Let's both do our best to reach the 10-minute judgment!"

In the private ring…

The two fighters took their places on the opposite sides of the ring. Just as they always had, they took the time to bow to one another as a show of respect. And then, with no further hesitation, Videl took the pleasure of the first move. She leapt at Caroni with a furious spear kick, aiming right for the center of his chest!

Caroni threw up his arm to block, cringing at the impact. He had no idea what it was, but Videl seemed so much stronger lately than she had before. Videl smirked, kicking off Caroni and then rushing at him again, throwing a punch that she was sure he'd move to block. Her assumption proved to be correct and, at the last moment, Videl opened her hand and grabbed the blonde fighter's forearm, swinging herself up, wrapping her legs around Caroni's head, and then flipping him all in one smooth motion.

Caroni slammed hard onto his back, but quickly regained his feet with a kip-up. He clapped his hands twice, applauding Videl's skill. "Excellent work, Princess! Now let's see if you can counter my attack!"

Videl gripped her fist with a smile. "I won't go down easy!"

The two charged and clashed fists. Caroni grinded his teeth in pain, Videl's punch was much harder. Videl gritted her teeth and locked her ankles in place to prevent from sliding back. Wanting to regain leverage, Videl quickly whipped around and swung a massive elbow at the back of Caroni's neck!

Caroni began to turn as well, readying a punch of his own!

Back in the South Pavilion…

As Videl had requested, her match with Caroni made it all the way to the 10-minute judgment. A monk rushed out and whispered in Vale's ear. The announcer nodded and then turned to watch as Videl and Caroni both came walking out. Videl had a smile on her face, her stride was even and her shoulders were squared. She was radiating with pride.

Caroni, meanwhile, came out limping. He was covered in bruises and looked genuinely exhausted. As if it wasn't obvious, Vale announced the decision. "With a 3-0 judgment, our eighth finalist is Videl!"

Videl looked over to her Uncle Caroni with a smile. Even though it was genuinely quite painful to do so, Caroni smiled right back. He lifted his aching arm and gave Videl a pat on the shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Princess."

And then, to really drive it home, Caroni grabbed Videl's wrist and raised her arm in triumph. Once again, the entire room burst into a round of applause, except for the looming ghouls that were Spopovich and Yamu. As a matter of fact, watching Videl soak in the cheers and admiration seemed to make Spopovich's labored breathing even heavier, the blood vessels on his eyes spreading like cracks in poorly tempered glass.

Again, the computer began to scramble for the next two names. Once they flashed onto the screen, Vale turned to the crowd. "Next up: Krillin vs Pintar!"

The two warriors stepped up to the front and, before Krillin could utter a single word, Pintar deliberately bumped into Krillin, making him stumble over. The dark-skinned man was towering, rotund sight dressed in Arabic garbs and a shaved scalp, save for the long ponytail atop his head. He scoffed at the sight of his opponent. "Ohohohohohohohohoho~ Look at the little man! He must have missed the Junior Division, me thinks!"

Krillin's eyes went half-lidded. Pintar bent over to his level. "How about it, little man?! Do you wish to decide the winner right here? Maybe with a more fair competition? Maybe with rock-paper-scissors or a dance off?"

Krillin opened his mouth to speak, but Pintar continued. "But no! You would lose those as well! Cuz Pintar has the flexible body that makes the ladies sing and apparently all the luck in the world, getting to face such a runt!"

And then, in order to show off, Pintar did a handspring and backflipped all the way into the private ring, laughing and spouting insults even as he disappeared within.

The entire room was speechless, their faces various levels of confusion, embarrassed, and disgusted. Krillin looked to Vale, motioning toward the private room. "Really?"

Vale shrugged. "Hey, Chiaotzu picked him for the preliminaries, not me."

Chiaotzu shouted. "Prove it!"

Krillin turned to look at Goku and his wife. Goku and 18 both shrugged, having no idea what to really say. Krillin sighed and marched into the private ring.

There was a brief silence, then a yelp and the sound of wood cracking apart, followed by a steadily fading scream. Krillin walked back out and Vale tilted his head. "The result?"

Krillin shrugged. "I kicked him through the ceiling after he called me short again. I think it's a ring out."

Vale curtly nodded. "Fair enough! Our ninth finalist is Krillin!"

Krillin walked up to the group, Goku, Yamcha, and Upa all snickering at him. Krillin shot them the stink eye. "Don't make me kick you three through the ceiling too..."

Upa started to make a joke, but then Vale called out. "Next up: Upa vs Yamu!"

Upa flinched. "O-Oh! My turn!"

Tien, Piccolo, Gohan, and Videl all watched with keen eyes as Yamu stepped up to the front, Vale flinching back as he came closer. Upa turned to Goku and smiled. "Wish me luck, Goku!"

Goku smiled. "Good luck, buddy! I can't wait to fight ya in the finals!"

Upa nodded and marched to the front, stepping up next to Yamu. Vale spoke in a very tight voice. "Please enter the private ring whenever you are ready!"

Upa turned to his opponent and offered a handshake. "Best of luck to you, sir!"

Yamu didn't even look at him, instead marching forward and making sure to shoulder check Vale as he did. Upa frowned and followed. "Not a very good sport, it would seem."

Both warriors disappeared into the private ring and then, things were dead silent. No noises of combat. No exertion. Nothing. Goku cocked his head. "What are they-"

*CRACK*

*CRACK*

Yamu emerged from the room with an indifferent look on his face. He didn't stop to address Vale. He didn't make any statement as to his victory or his defeat. He simply crossed the room and rejoined his apparent comrade, crossing his arms and closing his eyes as he leaned against the wall.

Before long, two medics came rushing in with a stretcher and just as quickly went rushing out with Upa, both of his arms laying limp and contorted across his chest, totally unconscious.

Goku was taken aback beyond words. He looked at Krillin and Yamcha, and then all three of them looked over at Yamu. Now, just as Piccolo, Tien, Gohan, and Videl did, the three sons of the Turtle School felt deep down within there something was just not right with that ghastly pair.

With what sounded like a very bad case of dry mouth, Vale spoke in a quivering voice. "O-Our tenth finalist is Yamu..."

The entire room was dead silent as the computer scrambled for two more names. Yamcha and Krillin looked mortified, thinking about Upa's shattered arms. Goku was stuck in a state of quiet contemplation. The silence was only broken by Vegeta's reaction to the names on the screen. "Oh-hoh!"

Vale, finding his voice again, called out. "Next up: Tien Shinhan vs Chiaotzu!"

The two Cranes flinched, looking to one another as if they hadn't considered this a possibility. Goku sighed and turned to his two companions. "Man, that sucks! This would have been a heck of a match for the actual tournament!"

Tien smiled. "Certainly. But fate works in strange ways, sometimes. I don't anticipate an easy victory."

Chiaotzu smirked. "The fact that you anticipate a victory at all says you aren't taking me very seriously, Tien!"

Tien marched and Chiaotzu floated up to the front of the room. Vale smiled warmly at them both. The two Cranes shared a handshake, and then a hug. And then they entered the private ring.

The match didn't reach a 10-minute judgment, but it came well close at 9-and-a-half. The rest of the Z-Fighters, even Vegeta, were on the edge of their seats as they used their Ki sense to follow along with what was happening in the other room. If anything was clear from what they felt, it was that they were seriously underestimating Chiaotzu, and seriously under-ranking the strength of Tien Shinhan.

When both Cranes came marching out of their battle, they had their heads held high. But, Chiaotzu sighed. "You better win this thing, Tien!"

Tien smiled, glancing over at Goku, Vegeta, and Piccolo in particular. "No fool enters a tournament that he doesn't have faith he'll win. My opponents had best be wary."

The rest of the Z-Fighters smirked right back. A gauntlet had been thrown by one of their own. More than ever, they were ready for this tournament to get going. Vale smiled and called out to the crowd. "Our eleventh finalist is Tien Shinhan!"

Once again, the computer scrambled for names. Once two more were displayed, Vale called out. "Next up: Mr. Shin vs Kazuma Kiryu!"

Piccolo watched on as the strange, purple dwarf lightly stepped to the front of the room. Even his footfalls made barely any noise. Next to him, one rough customer of a Yakuza stepped up. His face was hard as stone, his facial hair immaculate. He was dressed in a two-piece crimson suit and a pair of white, snakeskin loafers that cost more than some cars. Shin looked up to this intimidating specimen and smiled. "I wish you a most successful match!"

For a moment, Kiryu didn't speak. He had a sneer on his face that suggested violence could easily prop up at any moment. But then, to Vale's surprise, he respectfully nodded his head. "Onajiku."

The two warriors marched into the private ring and Piccolo kept his eyes trained on the doorway. He tried to listen in, but once again was able to hear nothing. Not even the slightest movement of feet. The more he thought about it, the more it made the Namekian really uneasy. When had he ever failed to hear something before?

When footsteps finally rang out, it was neither Shin nor the Yakuza. It was a monk who walked up to Vale and whispered in his ear. Vale sighed. "That's a shame..."

Then he called out. "It appears, ladies and gentlemen, that Kazuma Kiryu has passed out! The winner by default, and our twelfth finalist, Mr. Shin!"

Immediately following that announcement, Shin came walking out of the private ring, trailing just behind the other two monks who were escorting the unconscious Kiryu to the infirmary. Piccolo stared at Shin as he walked, still trying to make out even an echo of a footfall.

Suddenly, Shin came to a stop. He looked up to the ceiling, as if deep in thought, and then started to audibly tap his foot. Piccolo's eyes widened ever so slightly. And then, Shin looked right at him and shot him a cool smile. Piccolo flinched. Yamcha turned to Piccolo as Shin walked over to rejoin his towering companion. "Something wrong, Piccolo?"

Piccolo gnashed his teeth, quickly regaining his composure. "Nothing."

Already, the computer had produced two more names and Vale called them out. "Next up: Kibito vs Nam!"

Piccolo gasped and watched as Nam and Mr. Shin's assistant, Kibito, stepped up to the front of the room. The two fighters turned to face each other, Nam looking up and Kibito looking down. Vale smiled. "Fighters, you may enter the private ring as soon as you're ready!"

Nam nodded, clapping his hands in front and bowing. "Namaste."

Kibito was silent. He looked down on Nam, as if he were studying a bug or some sort of lesser animal. And then, in a voice as heavy as a piece of oak, he spoke. "Are you a religious man?"

This time, Nam was silent. He did not flinch, but he looked up at Kibito. The two competitors locked eyes and Nam's hand pressed together even more tightly. Kibito did not move. Vale cocked his head. "Uh, competitors? Is everything okay...?"

Nam bowed his head. "Forgive me, but I forfeit."

Vale flinched. "Wh-What?!"

Nam shook his head. "I apologize for wasting your time. I pray that this does not exclude me from future tournaments."

Vale shook his head. "I mean, no. It doesn't. But... are you sure, Nam?"

Nam nodded. "I am very sure. A good day to you. And..."

He turned to Kibito. "... to you, sir."

Kibito nodded and he and Nam both left Vale standing there, looking more totally confused than he ever had before. The announcer cleared his throat and called out. "Our thirteenth finalist is Kibito!"

Wordlessly, Kibito returned to Mr. Shin's side and Nam marched over to Goku, clapping a hand on the Saiyan's shoulder. Goku frowned. "Is everything okay, Nam? Are you-"

Nam leaned forward, whispering something into Goku's ear. And then he pulled back and smiled. "I look forward to watching you compete once more, Goku."

Krillin frowned. "What the heck, man? What is up with today?"

Yamcha turned to Goku. "Wh-What'd he say?"

Goku didn't respond. Yamcha flinched. "Goku?"

Vale quickly interrupted, calling out to the few competitors left remaining. "Next up: Number 18 vs Jewel!"

18 and Jewel both stepped to the front of the room, looking more than ready to fight. Vale quickly wished them both luck and they marched into the private ring to decide who the next finalist would be.

In the private ring…

As 18 took her place on her side of the room, cracking her neck and stretching in anticipation, Jewel spoke up in a velvety rich voice. "Wow, babe! Can you believe the vibes in the room out there? Things are so heavy. So drab. Unlike..."

He winked. "...you~"

18 shot him a look that could only say "drop dead", but apparently Jewel was deaf to it as he continued. "What say, after we have our spar, I use my money from winning the tournament to take you out for a nice dinner! Then, we can discuss some further arrangements down the line~"

Jewel blew her a kiss and 18 made what, in another life, was the exact same face she would have made if she had fought against Bacterian. Jewel continued. "I mean, that stunning face, that bewitching figure, that awesome fashion sense-"

18 held up her hand, raising a certain finger at her opponent. Jewel giggled. "And the attitude! Babe, I think we could go-"

Finally, 18 interrupted. "I'm not flipping you off, moron. I'm showing you my wedding ring. I'm married. And quite happily, at that. So stop with this wannabe-high-school-Fabio bullshit and come at me!

Jewel gave an affected sigh. "A lovely, luscious flower like you is forced to fight in a tournament like this for money? What kind of man is your husband?"

18 responded bluntly. "First of all, I make WAY more money than my husband from my day job. And secondly, my husband is a respectable cop... who also happens to be the ninth finalist."

Jewel paused for thought. "W-Wait...THAT SHORT, UGLY, NOSELESS TROLL IS YOUR-"

He barely had time to flinch as the sole of 18's boot came barreling toward his face.

Back in the South Pavilion…

Vegeta continued. "... and so, apparently, the punchline is that the fat slob escaped a brush with death."

All of the Z-Fighters' faces wrinkled up, even Goku's. 17 gave a thumbs down. "Boo! No idea who Dodoria is, but I hope he's burning in one of the hotter parts of Hell."

Vegeta nodded. "Same."

Piccolo looked disgusted. "That's what you and that other one were talking about after you killed Yamcha, Chiaotzu, and Tien?"

Videl looked confused. "What do you mean 'killed'? All three of them are standing right here..."

Vegeta shrugged. "It's not like you, Krillin, or Gohan were... hold on a minute."

Vegeta held up his hand and caught something that came flying overhead. He drew this unknown mass down and found it to be Jewel, a boot-print stamped into the center of his face. Vegeta nodded. "Saw that coming."

18 came walking out, motioning Vale toward Jewel's unconscious body, and then marched over to the Z-Fighters. Vegeta, seeing the annoyed look on her face, did Jewel a really big favor and tossed him out of a nearby window, into the bushes. Vale nodded and called out. "Our fourteenth finalist is Number 18! It's getting exciting, folks, only four more preliminary competitors left!"

Yamcha sighed. "Phew. The anticipation is killing me. Here's hoping that I get that elephant mask guy and Vegeta gets the other spook."

Videl smiled. "Wow. You must be really confident if you want to fight Pirozhki~"

Yamcha looked down. "Ah, right, you know him, eh?"

Videl nodded. "He's been my strength training coach since I became really serious about martial arts. He's just like Caroni, an uncle to me."

Yamcha smiled. "Well then, it would be my honor to-"

Vale called out. "Next up: Yamcha vs Vegeta."

Yamcha's smile didn't falter, but he closed his eyes as if having just accepted overwhelmingly bad news. "Shit."

The Z-Fighters all formed a circle around their remaining two. Yamcha opened his eyes and looked down at Vegeta. Vegeta glared up at him. Yamcha chuckled. "Sh-Should I just pull a Nam and forfeit?"

Vegeta frowned. "If you do that, I'll skip the Saibaman this time and kill you myself."

Yamcha sighed. "Man, you have a way with words, bud. I guess I don't have a choice..."

The two of them marched forward, both stepping up in front of Vale. Vale nodded to each of them, wishing them luck and then motioning to the private ring. Vegeta and Yamcha walked in, and every one of the other Z-Fighters immediately honed their senses into the room.

In the private ring…

Yamcha and Vegeta both stood on opposite sides of the ring. Their eyes were locked onto each other and nothing else. There was more tension in the room at this moment than there had been at any point in the rest of the day. The three monks nodded and the middle one began to speak. "You may-"

Vegeta spoke bluntly. "Get lost."

All three flinched. Yamcha didn't budge. The right-most monk stammered. "E-Excuse me? You want us to leave?"

The left-most followed up. "But, if we leave and the match reaches the 10-minute mark, then who will-"

Vegeta sneered. "We won't reach the goddamned 10-minute mark. I told you to leave! DO AS I SAY!"

The three monks whimpered with fear. Yamcha smiled and waved at them. "Hey, guys. It'll be all good. Thank you for being dutiful, but he's right. This won't take 10-minutes~"

The three seemed unsure, but then Vegeta shot them a furious glare and they were convinced, scurrying out of the room as fast as they could. Now alone, Vegeta and Yamcha looked at one another once more. There was a silent pause, as if neither knew what to say to the other.

Then, Vegeta spoke up. "Do you remember, during the time we were training to fight the Androids, when you barged into my home and demanded that I hit you as hard as I could?"

Yamcha blushed, clearly embarrassed by the memory. But he nodded. "Yeah. I was in a bad place back then."

Vegeta nodded. "Right."

Silence again. Then, Vegeta took off his shirt. "I want you to hit me as hard as you can."

Yamcha flinched. Vegeta continued. "With all your power. If you can fell me onto both knees with a single punch, I will the forfeit this."

Yamcha frowned. "You're just looking to embarrass me, huh?"

Vegeta shook his head. "Not at all. You'll never believe me, and I very much prefer that, but I have grown to respect you. You could have turned tail and run from the Cell Games. You could have receded into the shadows after losing Bulma. And yet, here you are. You're strong. You're successful in life. You've managed to raise a daughter that triumphed whereas I've raised a son arrogant enough to take the first fall. Call it crazy or stupid or both, but I feel I owe you this as one warrior to another..."

Yamcha was silent for a moment. He was sure that this was some way for Vegeta to mock him. But try as he might, he couldn't think of any way for Vegeta to turn this into a dig. As far as he could tell, the prince was being entirely genuine. Yamcha chuckled. "Nah, I believe you. You wouldn't have made those poor monks leave to change their pants if this wasn't serious..."

Vegeta smirked. Yamcha sighed, drawing his fist to his side. "One blow?"

Vegeta nodded. "One blow decides it all..."

Back in the South Pavilion…

Everyone present in the South Pavilion flinched back in shock as the three terrified monks came running out of the private ring. Videl was confused. "Wh-What's going on?!"

She was answered by one hell of a sight. Two massive bursts of fighting aura came shooting out of the private ring, one looking like hellish red flames and the other one a shining gold. The tension that was spreading from the private ring to the pavilion was so thick it was almost suffocating. Everyone standing there heard Vegeta and Yamcha both scream at the top of their lungs, then only the sound of a single, shattering impact.

The auras both died at once. Everything went quiet. After a few minutes, Yamcha and Vegeta both walked out, Vegeta with his shirt slung over his shoulder and a massive, multi-colored bruise on his stomach. Yamcha's head was hung low. Whatever contest had occurred in that room, the outcome was clear. Vale moved to announce the victor, but then Vegeta spoke. "Raise your damn head! I won't stand next to someone who looks so spineless!"

Yamcha glanced over at him. Vegeta glared right back. "Stand proud! You're strong, dammit!"

The former bandit was silent for a moment, but then he smiled and rubbed the back of his head. "But only as strong as one knee, huh? Hehehe~"

Vegeta nodded, looking smug. "Correct. Only one knee."

Yamcha sighed, folding his arms behind his head and stretching his back. "Damn, man. Not even the quarter finals this time..."

As the two proud warriors walked over to rejoin their comrades, Vale called out. "Our fifteenth finalist is Vegeta Briefs!"

Krillin laughed a hearty laugh, running up to Yamcha and slapping him a high-five. He turned to Vegeta and offered one as well and the prince returned it with an affected sigh. 18 rolled her eyes. "Put your damn shirt back on. This isn't your house."

Vegeta glared at her and she smirked. Once he had put his top back on, 18 quickly pulled him into a small hug. "Good job. Can't wait to kick the crap outta you in our match~"

Vegeta scoffed. "In your dreams."

As the Z-Fighters talked and joked among one another, Videl broke away from the group. Off to the side, Caroni was shouting motivation at Pirozhki as the hulking brute stretched. Videl smiled. "Hey, Uncle Pirozhki!"

Pirozhki turned. "AH! LITTLE VIDEL! YOU COME TO WISH DYADYA PIROZHKI LUCK?!"

Videl giggled. "Like you need it~"

Pirozhki laughed out loud and flexed, Caroni politely applauding him. Videl looked at him with love in her eyes. And then, as much as she didn't want it to, her smile faded. "Hey, Pirozhki, let's be serious for just a second. Okay?"

Both the Satan disciples stiffened up just a bit. Pirozhki cocked his head. "What is problem?"

Videl glanced over at Spopovich, seething in the corner. "Be careful, okay? Something about that guy is... wrong."

Pirozhki looked past Videl at Spopovich. In the lumbering lug's eyes, it almost seemed as if he were staring right at her. Pirozhki was immediately indignant. "He say something to you? Pirozhki put the big hurt on him for that!"

Videl shook her head. "No. He hasn't said a word to me. But...that marking on his forehead makes me uneasy. I know my dad beat him in the last tournament, and I know you're as tough as they come, but...just be careful, okay?"

Pirozhki looked down at Videl, seeing genuine concern in her eyes. Rather than argue or question, he simply nodded his head. "Da. I be careful."

Videl nodded and smiled again. And then, as if on cue, Vale called out. "Finally: Pirozhki vs. Spopovich!"

Both fighters stepped up. Spopovich didn't seem to be looking at anything, seething and heaving in huge gulps of air, as if he had a weight on his shoulders far beyond his means. Pirozhki glared at the brute, deciding that Videl was right...something was very wrong here.

The two warriors marched into the private ring, one after the other due to their size, and everyone else was left waiting. Videl stood next to Caroni, her fists gripped apprehensively. The Z-Fighters all watched warily, the entire group all sharing a similar foul feeling. All except for Piccolo, whose attention was squarely focused on Shin and Kibito and the grave looks they had following Spopovich as he marched into the private ring. It was very quiet in the South Pavilion. Too quiet.

And then, a scream of pain too horrifying to replicate rang out from the private ring. Everyone but Vegeta, Piccolo, Shin, Kibito, and Yamu shuddered. Goku's blood ran cold. He had heard a similar scream before, back at the end of the 22nd Tournament. Back when Tambourine...

He looked at Krillin and the shorter man's face was blue. The similarity, it seemed, was not lost on the victim of that long ago tragedy.

Stomping footsteps echoed down the hallway as the rest of the Z-Fighters regained their composure. Emerging from the shadows like a monster in a closet was Spopovich. Except now, there was a horrifying change in the man. His formerly furious face was spread into a satisfied, hateful grin. He looked out at everyone, scanning the room as the Z-Fighters stared, lesser warriors like Gyuhime and Mighty Mask recoiled, and Shin and Kibito bore a hole into him with their eyes. And then, he locked eyes with Videl... and raised the crumpled helmet of Pirozhki, blood not so much dripping from within as pouring.

Caroni gasped in horror and cried out. "PIROZHKI!"

There was another, short silence, and then a wail of terror and grief rang out from the private ring. A monk came rushing out, yelping in fear as he almost plowed right into Spopovich, and then crashed into Vale. Vale stammered. "Wh-What happened?!"

The monk shook his head. "H-He's barely alive! But... But... that brute tried to kill him! I swear it! W-We all saw the glimmer in his eye! He-"

Spopovich turned, chuckling. "Not dead. Didn't break a rule."

Vale swallowed a lump in his throat, and then made what he would swear for as long as he could remember was the toughest call of his career. "Our sixteenth finalist... is Spopovich."

The veteran announcer, witness to so many brutal sights, was shaking like a leaf. "Th-The preliminaries are over. The matchups will b-be determined and a-announced later in the evening..."

Spopovich had already turned away. He didn't care about this anymore. For a moment, it seemed like he was contemplating what to do next, or who to go after next, before Yamu called out to him. "Spopovich! Our business here is done!"

Yamu stepped forward, motioning to his hulking brute of a partner. "Come along and let us make our report."

And so, everyone watched the two of them skulk off as a dozen medical staff flooded into the South Pavilion. If anyone was unsure of what to think of Spopovich and Yamu before, their opinions were now firmly set.

In the spectator stands…

It was a warm, summer evening as the crowd sat in anticipation of the day's big announcement. In just a few moments, all the preamble would be over. Everyone would know who would be fighting who in what was sure to be a tournament to remember the very next day.

Bulma tapped on her phone, finishing up with reservations for the entire group to enjoy a late dinner. She shoved her phone into her pocket. "Okay. Prime and Pearl has an entire private dining room ready for us. Steaks and seafood are just around the corner."

Chi-Chi smiled. "Good. I'm starving."

Blue Launch crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm worried about Ranch. We haven't seen her since she ran off..."

Raditz frowned. "... Maybe we should go look for her?"

Bulma leaned back. "Trunks hasn't shown up since then either. Those two are probably just causing a ruckus somewhere. They'll be fine so long as they stick together."

Raditz nodded, but his frown didn't alleviate. He had a look on his face that suggested he still wanted to act, but didn't seem to have the will to move. Suno dumped a few pieces of ice from her drink and began to crunch them when Koriocha suddenly cried out. "Look! It's Papa!"

Everyone turned to see, to their surprise, Yamcha and Chiaotzu both approaching. Gine looked shocked. "You two got taken out that early?!"

Yamcha shrugged. "What can I say? I tried my hardest. I can't help that Vegeta is such a wall, ya know? At least Koriocha won in my place."

The former bandit sat down and ruffled his daughter's hair. Puar floated over and hugged the side of Yamcha's head. "Poor Yamcha..."

Chiaotzu sat down next to Erasa and Sharpner. "I got matched up with Tien. Gave it my best effort, of course. But Tien's always been stronger than me."

Sharpner gave Chiaotzu a friendly pat on the back and the martial artist smiled. Erasa turned to him. "I hate to ask when you're feeling down, but how did Videl do?"

Chiaotzu looked over at her. "Gohan's girlfriend? She did fine. She ended up against one of those goofballs that hangs around Mr. Satan and kicked his butt."

Erasa cocked her head. "The blonde goofball or the husky goofball?"

Yamcha answered. "The blonde one. The husky guy... he..."

Both warriors looked green in the face. Before anyone could ask them what the problem was, the crowd erupted into cheers. Down in the front row, Mr. Satan marched to his seat of honor with an equally green look on his face. He had apparently been warned of what had happened to his protege Pirozhki.

In the ring, the tournament monks had set up an entire bandstand, several of them wielding instruments and doing final tune-ups for a performance. The stadium lights went low until the moon was doing more to provide illumination, and then the song began with a gong and a shredding guitar riff. The spectators all hunkered down. Master Roshi nodded. "Here we go..."

The monks all sang in unison.

"JOIN THE ADVENTURE TO BECOME~"

"THE GREATEST IN THE WORLD!~"

Springing out to the sound of the instruments, Vale the announcer cried into the mic. "Who's ready to see these tournament matchups!"

The crowd roared in approval and Vale started to sing.

"HERE THEY COME NOW~"

"EAGER TO SHOW THE WORLD WHY THEY'RE THE BEST~"

"THE GREATEST FIGHTERS PUT THEIR~"

"MASTERY OF MARTIAL ARTS TO THE TEST~"

"THEY'LL PROVE THEIR WORTH~"

"AND FIGHT UNTIL ONE REIGNS SUPREME~"

"AT THIS ONE~"

"AND ONLY TOURNAMENT OF DREAMS!~"

The kids were all up on their feet, dancing. Bulla and Koriocha took turns swinging Marron and Chika around while Goten smiled and Muffin and Socks clapped. Android 16 nodded and tapped toes. "That blonde man is a very capable singer."

"HE'S BACK! LOOK!~"

"SON GOKU RETURNS WITH HIS TAIL AND ALL!~"

"AND LOOK! WITH HIS AMAZING TECHNIQUE~!"

"KRILLIN'S SURE NOT TO FALL!~"

"NOW RUN! GO!~"

"LET OUT A ROAR AND MOVE TOO FAST TO SEE!~"

"NUMBER ONE~"

"NUMBER ONE~"

"NUMBER ONE~"

"JUST WHO WILL IT BE?~"

"JOIN THE ADVENTURE TO BECOME~"

"THE GREATEST IN THE WORLD!~"

As the tournament monks continued to play, Bulma chuckled. "I missed the tournament announcer. He's always so passionate about his job."

Chi-Chi grinned. "He's so happy to see Goku and Krillin he included them in a song~"

Ox-King nodded. "Why wouldn't he be? Imagine how much more exciting he knows the tournament will be~"

"STRENGTH OF BODY~"

"AND STRENGTH OF MIND UNSEEN BY THE UNTRAINED EYE~"

"THE INTENSE SCREAMS OF~"

"RED-HOT FIGHTING SPIRIT REACH UP TO THE SKY~"

"THE ARENA SHAKES!~"

"NOTHING'S EVER AS IT SEEMS!~"

"AT THIS ONE~"

"AND ONLY TOURNAMENT OF DREAMS~!"

"AMAZING! LOOK!~"

"TIEN SHINHAN RETURNS WITH HIS UNIQUE MIXTURE OF TECHNIQUES!~"

"AND JUST LOOK! WOW!~"

"JUNIOR RETURNS WITH A DEMONIC MYSTIQUE!~"

"NOW COME ON! FIGHT!~"

"BELIEVE IN THE STRENGTH THAT WE'VE ALL COME TO SEE!~"

"NUMBER ONE~"

"NUMBER ONE~"

"NUMBER ONE~"

"SO WHO WILL IT BE?~"

"JOIN THE ADVENTURE TO BECOME~"

"THE GREATEST IN THE WORLD~"

Erasa stood in from her seat, pointing toward the temple that housed the contestant waiting room. "Look guys, here they come!"

"HEROES!~"

"COME ON OUT AND SHOW THE WORLD YOUR STRENGTH!~"

"MARK TODAY AS YOUR GRAND RE-DEBUT!~"

Out from the temple came the sixteen competitors for the 25th World Martial Arts Tournament. Shin and Kibito lead the pack with looks of benign amusement and scornful contempt respectfully. Videl was next, her hands on her hips. After her came Gyuhime, flaunting her figure with strutting steps and blowing kisses to the crowd, and then Mighty Mask, who stumbled once but still kept pumping his fists at the crowd's cheers.

Next up came the Z-Fighters, Goku at the lead with Krillin right next to him. Followed by Piccolo, then Vegeta, then Tien, then Android 17 and Android 18. Then bringing up the rear of the little group was Gohan, his Saiyaman cape flowing behind him in the warm summer wind.

Finally, Spike emerged with a tense look as he kept a close watch on his back. Then Spopovich and Yamu brought up the rear.

No one was paying attention, more concerned with the fighters marching into the ring and lining up one next to the other, but Mr. Satan's face warped into a mask of terror and realization as he stared at the ghosts from the past lined up in front of him. Vale continued to sing, motioning at Mr. Satan and making the champ flinch.

"HERE WE GO!~"

"NOW! WHO WILL IT BE TO TAKE THE FINAL ROUND?~"

"AND THEN!~"

"WHO SHALL ATTEMPT TO TAKE MR. SATAN'S CROWN?!~"

"NOW RUN! FIGHT!~"

"SEIZE ALL YOUR DREAMS AND BE WHO YOU'RE MEANT TO BE!~"

"NUMBER ONE~"

"NUMBER ONE~"

"NUMBER ONE~"

"WHO WILL THE NEW CHAMP BE?~"

Above head, a digital screen flashed and showed the cheering crowd who it was that would be fighting who, starting the very next day.

"JOIN THE ADVENTURE TO BECOME~"

"THE GREATEST IN THE WORLD~"

Shin smiled.

Kibito grimaced.

Videl glared down toward the end of the line.

Gyuhime continued to play to the crowd.

Mighty Mask hooted as he pumped both fists into the air.

Goku smiled wide.

Krillin waved to the crowd at Marron.

Piccolo glared down at Vegeta.

Vegeta smirked up at Piccolo.

Tien stood resolute.

Android 17 crossed his arms.

Android 18 sighed in disappointment.

Gohan scanned the crowd.

Spike the Devilman shot a toothsome grin.

Spopovich snarled and bared his fangs at Mr. Satan.

Yamu closed his eyes.

"JOIN THE ADVENTURE TO BECOME~"

"THE GREATEST IN THE WORLD~"

Match #1: Mr. Shin vs Krillin

Match #2: Ma Junior vs Vegeta Briefs

Match #3: Videl Satan vs. Spopovich

Match #4: Lapis vs Tien Shinhan

Match #5: Gyuhime the Cattle Princess vs Number 18

Match #6: Son Goku vs Yamu

Match #7: Spike the Devilman vs Mighty Mask

Match #8: Great Saiyaman vs Kibito

As the band continued to play and the crowd cheered, the spectators in the crowd reacted to the matchups. Marron smiled. "Ooh! Mommy and Daddy are going to do great!"

Chika smiled. "You bet they are, Marron!"

Bulma crossed her arms. "Krillin, 18, Goku, and Gohan are all fighting people I've either barely heard of or never heard of. 18's opponent is a pro-wrestler, I think. Bad luck for them, huh Chi-Chi?"

Chi-Chi had a furious sneer on her face. "Are you kidding me...?!"

Raditz leaned back in his seat. "The hottest match-up here is Piccolo fighting Vegeta. I hope they don't end up burning the place down. 17 and Tien will probably put on a good showing too."

Yamcha grimaced. "Y-Yeah. But..."

On the other end of the stands, Chiaotzu looked uneasy. "Videl is going up against that guy..."

Erasa also looked pretty concerned, but Chiaotzu's comment only made her more fearful. Sharpner shrugged with a smirk. "The meathead is big, but we've seen Videl fight worse. What's the worst that could happen?"

With the matchups announced, Vale bid the crowd farewell as the evening's fireworks display went off. Tomorrow held promise to be the most exciting tournament in the event's entire history.