Chiaotzu vanished with a bright flash of his mental power. The glimmer shocked even the human bystanders as they were usually unable to see most manifestations of Ki. Even other fighters with psychokinetic powers such as Commander Blue weren't powerful enough for the effects of their prominent minds to be visible for all to see.
The Demon King fell on his back, blasted by Chiaotzu's kick which he had no defenses against due to being under complete control of the little guy's psychokinetic grip. Demon King Shura growled and attempted to stand back up, telling himself that he'd make his measly opponent pay for this transgression but each time he managed to wrestle the telekinetic grip covering his entire body back enough for him to rise on his feet, Chiaotzu blitzed past with a stiff kick to Shura's face, his sides or his gut and each kick hit its mark unguarded.
"We won't let you take over the Earth!" Chiaotzu squeaked after rising up into the air above the level of the tournament temple rooftop and pointing his finger at Shura. The cerulean gleam of the little shrimp's power transferred onto the nearby temple and tore it to separate chunks, throwing it about in a telekinetic vortex.
Separate pieces of debris, coated with Chiaotzu's telekinetic energy that made the impact that much stronger than if he'd have tossed mere debris at his opponent and which prevented the debris from falling apart easily, bashed and dazed the Demon King until the vortex of fallen debris ended up surrounding him and raising him up to its epicenter where the dragged in and about debris could have been used to bash against the floating Demon King. All this time, Shura struggled against the telekinetic grip around him too at the same time as being forced to fend off the relentless assault of walls and pieces of the roof.
Even Piccolo Jr. looked astounded by how far Chiaotzu had carried his telekinetic powers, being able to disassemble his surroundings and form entire natural calamities out of the debris, beating an opponent as potent as Demon King Shura without even being forced to lay a hand on him. It didn't look like Piccolo Jr. was afraid of the ghoulish little man but he respected Chiaotzu's psychokinesis alone, if not the entirety of his strength.
With gentle movements of his hands, Chiaotzu slammed the debris against the floating and restrained Demon King and formed a massive ball of compressed rubble, releasing the telekinetic grip for a mere instant and then repurposing it all to drive the floating sphere of rubble into the dirt down below. The hit shook the ground far and wide as if it was a small planetoid that would have hit Papaya Island and not mere rubble.
"Impossible…" Demon King Shura leered at his opponent from a kneeling position. "I… Demon King Shura am pushed to the very edges by a mere weakling human! How can this be!?" the frustrated Demon King punched the ground, growling and reeling in disdain against his doomed prospect for victory. Bruises and lacerations littered his entire body and Shura's movements were stiff and awkward as if his limbs had been broken several times over.
"You're weaker than Demon King Piccolo, there's no way you could have beaten us. Now give up!" Chiaotzu pointed his finger at the new Demon King with a mean expression on his face, meant to frighten his reeling enemy.
"Shut up!" Demon King Shura pounded the ground dirt underneath his fists and knees. He had hit the ring so hard that the supersized telekinetic sphere of rubble had reduced the ring to trash, comparable to the dirt the staff built it on. "It's true that Demon King Piccolo has acquired vast power in his revenge but that power was impure! He fused with Kami to achieve it! A real demon would never stoop so low! Still… For mere humans to surpass the power of demons. That is something I could have never imagined…"
The demonlings in the audience were beginning to grow unrulier still, they were restless this entire tournament but it was only now when they saw their master beaten, bruised and on the verge of complete humiliation and defeat that they began throwing their claws up in the air and rearing their teeth at the cowering humans beside them.
"This situation cannot be helped…" Muten Roshi grumbled, elbowing a pair of overzealous demons and knocking them both out with one strike. "Oolong, Puar, move from the premises and take Launch-san and Bulma-san with you!"
Masking their transformations with the rumbling shockwaves of Muten Roshi's valiant clash against the demons who have now begun to see the stubborn old man in their midst as their mortal enemy, a living representative of the humans they hated and that were now thrashing the reputation of their grand race in the arena, Oolong and Puar took revolting shapes of demons, appearing like red and blue devils while they dragged Launch and Bulma with them, growling their teeth at any little demon hatchling trying to steal the women away from them, acting as if they were their food alone.
"Well, aren't you going to withdraw as well?" Muten Roshi gave the announcer a wayward stare.
"Absolutely not! I am a proud professional of my craft!" the announcer pulled on the collar of his shirt, acting brave even though his forehead was overflowing with sweat.
"So is that it then?" Piccolo Jr. sneered at his mentor who knelt in front of his floating opponent and cursed his fate of being the humiliated and broken Demon King. "Is this all that your proud Demon Race is worth? I see that perhaps my predecessor was right to distance himself from it, even more right when he decided to reincarnate into a true martial artist."
"Piccolo Jr…" Demon King Shura turned around, shocked that his disciple and the hidden ace of the Demon Race was mocking him in the open as he had never done before. Whenever the other demons belittled the reincarnated Demon King Piccolo for his godly upbringing which was now an inseparable part of him, or that the high and mighty Demon King Piccolo who loathed and wished to eradicate all martial artists chose to reincarnate into a martial artist himself, Piccolo Jr. just stood quietly and stabbed the mockery with his beady eyes but he'd never spoken out against the prejudice he had faced. Shura even made sure to protect his protégé from it once he had taken him under his wing and started training him.
"Sure, your opponent is a great deal stronger than you," Piccolo Jr. shrugged, giving Chiaotzu a chilling stare, "that's no reason, however, to give up and writhe like a worm before him. If that is the fate of the Demon Race, to writhe and whine while the martial artists grow stronger and wiser, I'm proud of the decision to be reincarnated into a martial artist. Make no mistake, Demon King, this human was born weaker than you but he has become your superior through hard work and spitting in the face of greater threats. That must be why my predecessor was so adamant about rooting these martial artists out entirely…"
"You're right," The Demon King rose from his knees and faced his opponent. "Even that lowly human woman acknowledged a stronger opponent and yet she continued to oppose me, bringing my power down even further and making it even easier for this dwarf to bully me into submission… Of what use is our pride if it only makes us weaker, if it holds us back?"
"You're no Demon King!"
"You're a fraud, Shura, a fraud!"
"Get off the ring, weakling! We'll fight it out ourselves!"
"Screw the tournament, we'll water the soil with human blood and seed it with their bones!"
Shura examined his followers that were falling by the dozens in the hands of Muten Roshi who held the front all by himself, having grown supersized and buffed up in order to swell up his entire available strength as well as to gain enough reach to pound and slam every demon in his sight. The Demon King chuckled and took a shaky fighting stance, smiling at Chiaotzu. That defiant smile freaked the floating ghoul out, even when he felt confident beyond measure in his chances to win, his opponent carried a frightening amount of mental strength to him now. It was false courage, a faux replacement for power but it served as something that built the enemy up which meant that it was something to fear, something to respect.
"Have at you, pale, little human. I come at you as a Demon King, albeit, not for much longer, I'm afraid, though I come at you with nothing to lose! Once my superior takes the stage, your puny power difference will make no difference in the end. His power is the greatest, reminiscing of the legendary power of the Demon Kings of the past. Here is my strongest, nothing-held-back, Demon Spiral Fist!" Shura barked out before cocking his left arm back and surrounding it with a demonic spiral of coiling Ki.
Chiaotzu extended his arms as the Demon King charged at him, still carrying his Demon Spiral Fist coiled around his arm and ready to smash, break and shatter. The stumbling and slowed down Demon King slammed into a wall of a barrier face-first. A large box in which he was now trapped, a mime cage of sorts. Unflinching by this new threat, the Demon King's fists went rampant all over the barrier cage. It was once all of his strength was sapped by his pointless labor that Shura's arms weighed down and the demon slumped with heavy panting, unable to break out from the cage though sensing that Chiaotzu had unmade it to preserve Ki, it was as if the barrier had never been there, to begin with.
"You're beat!" Chiaotzu declared while straightening out his body as if he laid himself down in an invisible coffin and sent his stiff and straightened feet crashing at the enemy.
"You fool!" Shura growled, bobbing aside and throwing an uppercut, summoning the last remnants of his Demon Spiral Fist in his left hand and smashing Chiaotzu right in his exposed back to send him flying upward. "A demon isn't beat until their life fades away from their body, unlike you humans, our spirits aren't meant to break! It's something I'm glad that Piccolo Jr. reminded me!"
Throwing his hand out and up, Demon King Shura unleashed a vicious barrage of energy waves from his palms, all arcing and rushing toward his airborne and dazed opponent. The energy waves were the last traces of mean-spirit that the Demon King had in him. After he had fired the last one he could conjure up, Shura fell on his knee and drove his fist down onto the ring for support. His body was so weakened by the hopeless match that blood splashed from his knuckles in the shape of a web across a small circle around his fist where he had bumped the ruined stage.
Once the smoke cleared, Chiaotzu showed himself to be floating with one of his fingers extended toward where the rush of Ki waves came at him with a creepy smile. A measly ray of sunshine bursting through the clouds ran across an invisible barrier, the demonic magic that kept the world submerged in autumnal gloom faded away together with the last remains of power from the Demon King.
Chiaotzu dove down like a speeding missile, head-first into the enemy. In a blink, the ghoulish battering ram smashed his head against the powerless opponent and sent him crashing and sliding out of the ring area. While the exact limits of the ring became difficult to tell after Chiaotzu's earlier telekinetic rampage, the impressive trail that the unconscious Demon King left offered no space for doubt – he was out, no matter where the precise edges were.
"Ring out!" the announcer ruled in favor of the humans. "Demon King Shura lost by ring out! The winner is contestant Chiaotzu!"
"Why you!" the demons grunted, the few that remained conscious and unbeaten were those that were too cowardly to rush at Muten Roshi or those that had only now recovered from being blown away by his power. "Just wait 'till we get our hands on you and that lousy Demon King!"
It seemed as if Piccolo Jr. had had enough at that point. Without uttering a word he rose up from the ground and levitated out in front of the gathering of demons, all of whom cowered before him and appeared shaken by the very implication that he would raise his hand against them.
"Take Shura and get out!" Piccolo Jr. clenched his fist out in front of his opponents. "You've embarrassed yourselves enough today! Siding with slime like Garlick Jr., getting shown up by humans!"
"P-Piccolo, you traitorous bastard!" one demon shrieked out and recovered from his fit of absolute panic but blew up where he stood without there being a need for the scorned reincarnation of Demon King Piccolo to move his finger.
"Traitor? I was never one of you, that much you've made abundantly clear! The only reason why I'm letting you pathetic lot to leave with your lives is that Shura trained me and served useful to me for a time. He freed me from the Room of Space and Time too…" Piccolo Jr. looked down, for a moment it would have seemed as if he'd have missed Shura a little bit and felt genuinely grateful to him in a way which demons would not have understood. "All that's done now. It is the demon way that the strongest rule, this world will now be all mine. And make no mistake, if I find out that you've slain Shura, your miserable pisshole of a realm will be next."
"Y-You'll regret it, Piccolo!" a skinny demon shook his fist while the rest fled like the humans they had scared earlier. There were multiple access points to the Demon Realm on Earth. Fiend Village, the steampunk palace Garlick Jr. and his goons resided in before that day, far in the south-east of the Red Sea…
"I haven't eradicated you worms because you're too loathsome to kill. That's the only thing I regret right now…" Piccolo Jr. grumbled in frustration while watching the beaten and broken demons leave.
"Well then…" the announcer pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his sweaty forehead before looking up into the reborn spring sky. Even with his shades on, the man had to squint a little while looking up, it was something he had not experienced for more than half a year at this point but it was a welcome irritation. "I suppose the Tournament of Doom is over. The world is safe…"
"Safe?" Piccolo Jr. sneered at him. "What gave you that idea? This world is mine, I may not have any rights to claim it but I will take it by force regardless! Don't think that any mere rules will stop me from taking over your world either! I'll kill you lot whether I stand outside of the ring while doing it or not…"
"Chiaotzu, that's okay, Demon King Shura is beaten, the demons have retreated. That's enough, you can step down from fighting and leave it all to Goku now," Tenshinhan asked of his friend, still struggling against the nasty drawbacks of the Mafuba.
"Actually, I'd rather keep the tournament going," Goku smirked. "I'd really like to take on Piccolo Jr. at full strength, but if Chiaotzu still hasn't had enough brawling, I guess it can't be helped."
"Are you insane!?" Krillin freaked out. "Can't you sense how crazy-powerful that guy is!? The only chance we have is attacking him all together!"
"You're not making any sense at all…" Chayote mumbled. "Kakarot has waited for years for this challenge to ripen and present itself and now you want to spoil it?"
"How are we the ones not making sense to you!?" Yamcha took a step back in shock. "Piccolo Jr. is way more powerful than any one of us! None of us can fight anymore anyway, you may have been a fair challenge to him at full strength but…"
Yamcha whited out for a blink and reeled on his knees in pain. With a quaking body, he looked up with the blurry vision, seeing Chayote looming over him with her fist still extended to where his gut was when she hit him.
"Shut up, you dolt. Don't you think I know that?" she mumbled with a tone that nobody has heard from Chayote in years. Most of them have never heard it, in fact, for by the time that they've met the Saiyan she was already goofing around and just acting like a ruthless Saiyan warrior threatening to kill everybody. This tone of voice she addressed Yamcha with had nothing in it that suggested an act.
"Hmph… Leave something for Piccolo ta do, don't kill yerselves!" Yajirobe made fun of the Dragon Team's feud from the sidelines, wanting to have absolutely nothing to do with the fight against Piccolo Jr. judging from the way he stood aside from the humans with his arms crossed over his chest and moved closed to the nearest collapsed temple where he could have concealed his presence.
"Chayote," Goku pat his hand on the shoulder of the young Saiyan woman, easing her with his voice. "It's okay, you can take a Senzu but leave this to us. You've had your turn already."
"Kakarot, you dumbass!" Chayote grumbled and turned away. "Clueless as usual, Chi-Chi's gonna kill you one of these days."
"She just might!" Goku chuckled to himself, "I might not get why you're mad at Yamcha but I'll have to ask you to just sit tight and trust me. We've had a blast training together and I've got crazy strong because of it. It's time to show everyone just how strong. Maybe I can't beat Piccolo Jr., who knows, but at the very least I wanna finish doing what we came here to do and win this tournament the right way!"
"I'm fighting, Ten-san!" Chiaotzu turned to his three-eyed friend with a bold declaration. "Goku-san is right! We've come here to show what we've learned and fight the person we've trained for years to stop. This is what we've all been training for. Right now we're all martial artists trying to prove we're the strongest in the world first, Kami-sama's disciples second. Only when Piccolo Jr. beats the first should he need to see the second."
"Chiaotzu…" Tenshinhan mumbled. He didn't like Chiaotzu's determination to face the absolutely monstrous opponent who seemed to be the most unhinged now than he's ever been but he lacked the strength needed to stop his friend from doing so.
"Hmph… So you're keeping up with this tournament charade, huh?" Piccolo Jr. floated up into the remains of the ring, or where it would have been if Chiaotzu's telekinetic storm hadn't torn it all apart and scattered the rubble. "Fine, shorty, it's your funeral…" he cracked his knuckles.