"Alright, we're all split up!" Krillin exclaimed.
"How's that so exciting for you?" Chayote turned to him baffled. "You'll have to wait longer before you fight someone strong…"
"No, it's better to take on the strongest guys the very last, trust me!" Goku grabbed Chayote by the elbow and pulled on it. Both the young man's energy, as well as the fact that it was a Saiyan claiming so, helped Chayote to get onboard with the hype.
"If you say so…" she shrugged, considering to keep this Earthling ritual in mind. To her, it still seemed a little like Earth itself – Earthlings were cowardly so they postponed the really tough fighting until it was unavoidable. Still, if Goku was onboard... He was nothing if not genuine. He spent much more time on Earth and if he would have known fighting strong opponents later on to be different he'd not have held it back.
"The preliminary fights to determine the eight finalists of the World Martial Arts Tournament will now commence! Please confirm your assignment by comparing the number you drew against the chart and gather at the appropriate ring!"
Chayote raised her head up. She noticed Goku and the others heading toward the chart to check the numbers they've drawn. Yamcha looked back at Chayote who just mingled on one foot. He turned around and pressed his hands onto his hips.
"What's wrong? Aren't you coming?" he asked.
"Oh, I've already checked my number. My training with Baba was… Unnatural." She shrugged.
"I see…" Yamcha smiled, staring at Chayote for a couple of seconds with an inspired look before following Krillin and Goku to the chart.
"The rules are simple: you will fight one-on-one, if you fall out of the ring, are knocked out or give up – you lose. The use of all weapons is prohibited. There is no time limit from this point, therefore, please fight it out to your heart's content until a true winner is determined!"
Chayote closed her eyes and let the darkness envelop her. Farther ahead, to the north by the charts, Goku raised his arm and spoke to Krillin. Yamcha turned back with an encouraging nod. They were wishing each other good luck. This ability of Baba's was too amazing to pass-up. If only Chayote could have devoted some more time to mastering it. Right now she was nowhere near seeing the future but she was great at seeing the present.
"Enjoying yourself? Should I feel glad you haven't picked up on fortune-telling quite yet? It's no good to just stare at the future, you'll end up wasting your life and turning into an old prune…" Baba's voice rang in Chayote's head. It appeared that the old crone was quite capable of mental communication, just like Muten Roshi.
"I figure that if I keep staring into the present enough, I'll eventually see the future, just like you." Chayote thought to herself. She wasn't able to speak mentally yet but those who were were used to reading one's thoughts as a potential reply to their telepathy.
"Normally I'd say you're full of it but… Who knows… A freak of nature like you might actually do it. When you first asked me to show you a thing or two, whatever you were trying to see, I was just humoring you. Just for the laughs… Even someone like me, a master that walks between the world of mortals and the Otherworld freely, needs a crystal ball but you… You just picked up on centuries of training in a snap." Baba spread gleeful signals in her mind, chuckling this way.
It must have been because of the vast difference in the strength between the two. Also because of the fact that Chayote was delving not only into the realm of psychics like Baba but also into martial arts as well. These two weren't quite the same but it was easier to learn how to bake cakes when one had practice with making perfect omelets than without such experience.
Chayote's eyes snapped open, frankly, she was furious that in three years of gradual practice in between building up her power level with Dracula Man and honing her martial arts skills with Devil Man she couldn't yet approach Baba's level in fortune-telling. Judging from what she saw, Goku, a low-class Saiyan, managed to catch up to Muten Roshi in about five years of training. The two were different in terms of martial arts prowess but comparable, at the very least.
Two years… Yes. Chayote was two more years of training short. She could then confirm what her future was, the future of Earth as well. If Kakarot's father and his goons would truly come eventually to claim him, as Raditz suggested and how monstrous his power truly was. If Chayote would ever return to reclaim her position at Lord Frieza's army? If that was truly her fate… So much uncertainty could have been quenched.
A thunderous thud derailed Chayote's train of thoughts. She looked around, her body had been operating on auto-pilot. She stood in the middle of the ring with her arms crossed over her chest and her opponent was crying uncle from the bottom of his lungs after breaking both his arms while trying to hit her, not unlike Suke-san during Baba's trial.
"P-Please step off the ring, Contestant 132!" the staff member yelled at Chayote in frustration. "Your fight is over."
So odd. Had Chayote let her autopilot do the work, she'd have been off the ring already. It was the source of thudding disturbance that demanded her attention. Chayote closed her eyes once more and hopped off the stage. The past. She had never even tried looking into the past… Why would she? What good would something as useless as the past do? Maybe help her with this gnawing sensation of curiosity, for once…
Yamcha… It was Yamcha. Yamcha's face, his image in sharp lines and then a blur. Yamcha had become strong. For an Earthling, at least. Even now he seemed unlikely to be in any state to challenge Chayote when she originally crashed on Earth from the Kami Tower but his moves were impressive. Even if he didn't tell her he trained with Korin, it was self-evident – the flawless economy of motion, the unmatched speed and certain toughness to his body that did not even demand him throw a single strike to win.
"Not lowering your guard, I hope." A familiar, headstrong voice rung from behind Chayote.
"You know better, that's why you're testing it with words, not actions." The Saiyan turned around to face Tenshinhan. Whereas usually, she would have been itching to go at him, tournament rules be damned, this thing Goku said about best fights being the most enjoyable when allowed to ripen as fine fruit piqued Chayote interest. It was that interest that allowed her to remain perfectly calm when confronted by someone described as a potential challenge to her.
"Broom-head." The little ghoul beside Tenshinhan squeaked. When Chayote offered him an ounce of her attention, the dwarf offered the Saiyan the grimace with his tongue in return.
"Be silent, Chiaotzu! This is not someone to underestimate, unlike those jokers in the first couple of blocks." Tenshinhand scolded his partner.
Chayote closed her eyes. The past of this man was utter blackness to her own third eye. One that laid inside her soul and allowed her to peek at more than ordinary men and women who did not allow themselves greater sight could. Whether Tenshinhan had psychic protections, feeling threatened by Baba after she approached him, or Chayote's psychic abilities simply weren't reliable enough, one fact remained – his past would remain a mystery to her until Tenshinhan himself decides to let her in on it.
"I'm surprised that you're not bragging to someone inferior to you. Shows excellent maturity as a martial artist to instead learn from observing your superiors." Chayote gave Tenshinhan a smug face and turned back to the ring, acting interested in a pair of nobodies dancing around one another like idiots, too absorbed in switching stances and howling instead to throw the first punch.
"What was that?!" Tenshinhan grit his teeth and tensed up his entire body. Chayote didn't even need to sense his rising Ki or escalating fighting intent. "Hmph…" just like that the martial artist calmed down.
"Ten…" Chiaotzu turned to Tenshinhan. This must not have been the kind of behavior this little zombie-brat was used to from his partner.
"You're different than I thought you'd be. I always imagined you as this bratty juggernaut. Just know that I can see right through you and I know that while you're all that which was described to me and then some on the outside, you're doubting and quivering at each turn on the inside." Tenshinhan put his knuckle in front of his extended palm and bowed in front of Chayote, a social gesture that showed that the young man considered her his equal and was interesting in the potential challenge of Chayote as a martial artist, however, he had other business to attend to.
"To the anxious audience, burning up to find out the results of the preliminaries we can only declare that the preliminary matches are moving along. The 182 contestants are whittling down nicely!"
"Krillin has greatly improved. He no longer seems afraid of fighting whatsoever, though it's likely because he's a tiger in a room filled with cockroaches. I wonder if Earthlings can ever move past their cowardly nature…" Chayote thought to herself while observing blurs of red settle down on a clear image of Krillin smacking his opponent out of the ring with a careless backhand smack. With their current level of strength, this lot now knew what it was like to be worried about not hurting one's opponent more than surviving the bout.
Although… Neither of the three was all that bothered by that. Chayote remembered having to work at it to keep her opponents alive last time but there three just breezed right past their opponents. When Chayote saw Goku toy with his opponent – a familiar face of King Chappa and trip his opponent out of the ring like a bully did to a random kid running past them from the canteen, she realized that the background in martial arts that these three had over the Chayote of the past meant the world in determining the level of skill in battle against all kinds of opponents, not only ones stronger than oneself but also weaker ones.
The hustle and bustle outside was incredible. One would think that to not be the case, given how the audience participating in the World Martial Arts Tournament as spectators pretty much had little to nothing to do early on, but, almost as if they were previously just standing about and absorbing the tension filling the air, it was just after the preliminaries that the crowd began flocking to the snacks and already to their spots near the ring where the finals would take place.
"Congrats, guys, you all passed!" Puar cheered.
"With how one-tracked your minds were… Who could have doubted?" Bulma fired off blazing twisters from her eyes but, despite her best attempts, Yamcha remained very much un-incinerated.
The poor dolt just stroked the back of his head as if looking for words to ease the tension between them but then just shrugged and let the natural progression of the congratulations to carry him off ahead.
"Huh… Where's Muten Roshi? Shouldn't he be the happiest out of everyone that we passed to the finals, who knows, maybe we'll get to humiliate those students of his rival's." Krillin shrugged. Chayote earlier assessment of the change in the boy's character was not only true but underestimated. The bald Earthling had become somewhat cocky due to his unnatural training and superhuman conditioning.
What cruel irony that the boy who felt petrified by weaklings beneath his level in the last tournament would now declare himself superior to people just as towering over him as he was over those he faced last time…
"Hmph… With how much time to perv on innocent girls he's missed out on, are you all that surprised he's not here?" Bulma grumbled.
"You're breaking an old man's heart!" Roshi's voice made Bulma turn around, for a second there the scorn in her expression shifted with embarrassment but then she must have realized it was Roshi that she was embarrassed about speaking ill of and that blush in her cheeks cleared out like clouds after the rain. "Makes me wonder how you'll be speaking of me after I die…" the old geezer acted out wiping off a fake tear off his cheek.
"That will never happen though… You'll probably live forever… I'm never getting the house…" Umigame lamented in a joking manner, although the dry delivery made everyone around the sea turtle freeze and stare at it for a moment before the context of his words caught on to them.
"Not if I train as intensely as I do now! Martial arts, nourishment to body and soul, is the true mystery behind human longevity!" Muten Roshi posed proudly.
"And not that Paradise Herb you've been scolding in your tea?" Umigame wondered, jesting again, with much more mean-spirit this time, however.
"That was just a phase, you scaly flopper!" Muten Roshi flipped out on his cohabitant. "Back then I thought that I was the strongest person alive so I stopped training and ate the herb for energy…"
"So that's why you didn't attend the last World Martial Arts Tournament?" Goku pointed at Roshi, "Because you were getting rusty? That explains a whole lot!"
"Indeed. I feel as grateful for you two… Three… Four, at times… For inspiring the fighting spirit back into my old bones as you should feel for all the priceless lessons I left you with." Muten Roshi posed with arms over his hips.
"The World Martial Arts Tournament final rounds will begin momentarily. The eight chosen participants, please proceed to the main tournament hall!"
"There we go!" Krillin turned to the direction of the main hall. "Don't you guys want to get a better seat to see our fights from though?"
"Don't worry, that's what our friend Launch is here for!" Oolong turned to the shapeshifter with a devious smirk but then took a step back when he noticed stacks of navy-blue hair scattering in the wind instead of the blond form that he was counting on.
"Oh… Is that a gun in my hand!?" Launch jumped back and screamed out, dropping the semi-automatic handgun she was clenching in her hand before transforming. One that the group was counting would get them the best seats in the house.
"Oh, brother…" Oolong shook his head. "Well… Plan B…" he turned to Puar.
The two nodded and poofed in synchrony. From the clouds of smoke turned up a robot filled up with ax-blades from head to toe and an anthropomorphic saber-tooth tiger wielding a scimitar and classic Chinese-style clothes. Puar even went the extra mile of having one of his eyes be cut up, requiring a patch as well as an extravagant pipe smoking in between his lips.
"Alright, you nerds, move aside or get squished!" Oolong shook his body, clanging all the ax-blades he wore at once like a dinosaur with a spiky back or mace for a tail. Puar was much less skilled in intimidation tactics and about as convincing in his attempts to frighten the audience as blue-haired Launch but he still had intimidating size working for him.
Goku huffed and heaved while performing upside down, one-finger push-ups. Krillin and Yamcha didn't look too intimidated by the rather extreme exercise chosen for warm-ups nor by the fact that Goku had long since lost count.
"I sure hope we don't get lumped together by the lottery." Krillin looked at Yamcha with a smile. The boy looked confident despite being surrounded by fighters against whom his chances would have been questionable. He might have meant that it would have been fortunate for everybody else but him…
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that the two monsters survived but… I must say, I counted on you two taking the fall in the preliminaries." Tenshinhan approached the cluster of finalists assembled in the main hall with Chiaotzu by his side, as always.
"Why's that?" Yamcha looked at the three-eyed martial artist with some respectful fear in his eyes. Unlike Krillin, this Earthling knew his odds, he evaluated himself realistically, even in the light of his massive recent growth in power. Tenshinhan was an oddity amongst Earthlings to be certain to the point where his strength alarmed even Chayote. Not necessarily his strength itself, more that an Earthling was able to become as strong as Tenshinhan had gotten while originating from underneath Taopaipai's oppressive foot.
This one truly was a talent, everything Baba promised and more…
"Maybe because that's what Turtle School does. Tsuru Sennin told us all about his rival before we abandoned him. Kame Sennin trains himself in solitude because he likes entertaining the delusions of how strong he truly is. There's nothing like real life to make shoddily folded steel crumble into a useless heap of scrap." Tenshinhan spoke not from a position of elevation but with a more solemn look. He felt what he was preaching too. He himself must also have recently been humbled just like he projected onto the Turtle School… Humbled in a way that shook the very foundation of the way he saw himself as the part of the world around him.
"Doesn't get much more real than that…" Yamcha pointed his thumb at the unruly audience outside that waited for the matches to begin.
"Beating around the bush, just like Tsuru Sennin said." Chiaotzu squeaked.
"True. Though Tsuru Sennin was just as blind himself. Make no mistake, none of those people out there matter. What they see or think doesn't matter. Only strength and victory matter and I will achieve that, I'm ready to bet my pride as a martial artist on that!" Tenshinhan declared.
"Your pride seems to matter a great deal to you. See to it that you don't end up taking your own life once it's broken and there's nothing more left but the shell." Chayote stepped up to Tenshinhan while the two examined each other and sized their respective rival up.
"Alright, finalists, please assemble!" the ever-charismatic and irreplaceable announcer showed his face again by declaring the beginning of the lottery to the finalists. That way, the finals of the 22nd World Martial Arts Tournament had begun.