Ajak turned to Makkari first.
The gesture she made was simple. Makkari nodded and signed back a quick affirmative, already shifting her weight toward the door.
"The uninhabited zones," Ajak said. "Every coastline, every glacier field, every deep rainforest. If a ball landed somewhere no one has found it yet, that's where it will be."
Makkari was gone before the sentence finished.
Druig leaned back in his chair. "I can extend my reach to a significant number of people. Get them searching voluntarily — or near enough to voluntarily that the distinction doesn't matter. The coverage would be orders of magnitude better than any physical search."
Ajak shook her head before he finished. "No."
"It's efficient."
"It's not the same Earth it was when we first arrived. If you start bending minds across a population large enough to matter, the first person through that door will be Smith Doyle." She held his gaze. "You watched what he did at the end of the New York battle. So did everyone else at this table."
Druig spread his hands. He wasn't pleased, but he didn't push it.
The Battle of New York had recalibrated everyone's read on Smith. Before it, the Eternals' general consensus had been that his status as Dragon Ball guardian explained most of his reputation — the willingness to share the competition, the organizational reach, the deference others showed him. Actual threat assessment had remained moderate. Then they'd watched him gather those final energy strikes across thirty blocks of Manhattan and fold the Chitauri formation inward. Even Ikaris had gone quiet for a moment.
The threat assessment had been revised.
Ajak looked at Phastos. "Detection equipment. Can you build something?"
Phastos shook his head with genuine regret. "I never had direct contact with a Dragon Ball last cycle. I don't know its material composition or whether it emits a trackable frequency. Without that baseline, I can't design a sensor." He paused. "If we get one this time, give me an hour with it. I can build something that would make future cycles trivial."
"Noted." Ajak moved on. "Kingo — the public channels."
Kingo was already nodding. His profile in India was substantial enough to move markets. He'd raise the offer publicly through his legitimate platforms, let the search propagate through local networks, and drive civilian participation at scale. The price per ball would climb. Three and a half billion was his current figure — enough to make ordinary people treat Dragon Ball hunting as a life-changing prospect.
Phastos would work the network side, pulling data and communications for any lead that looked credible.
Druig, restricted from large-scale influence, would use narrower methods — targeted, careful, within boundaries that wouldn't register as a mass event.
Ikaris had been listening through all of this with the particular patience of someone waiting for his name.
"Send me as the competitor," he said. "If we find a ball and earn entry, I should be the one in the ring."
Thena's eyes moved to him.
"Your condition knocked you out last time at the worst possible moment," Ikaris said, keeping his tone level. "You know that's true."
It was true, and Thena knew it. She'd been in a genuine position against Wenwu before the Mahd Wy'ry episode hit. Then she'd forfeited the match against Tony when the second episode came during the break. The losses weren't about capability — they were about reliability. And a tournament with no medical timeouts had no space for unreliable.
Ajak confirmed it. "Ikaris competes, if we get entry. His flight ability alone changes the situation of any ring match."
Thena didn't object. She wanted the cure, not the credit.
The Eternals dispersed.
The next morning, JARVIS flagged it during a Mark 42 calibration session.
"The Dragon Ball acquisition price on the dark web has moved to three and a half million per unit, sir."
Tony set down the gauntlet piece he was adjusting. "Who?"
"Primary source is a Bollywood entertainer named Kingo. He's not hiding behind a proxy — the offer went up on public Indian networks simultaneously with the dark web post. It's causing considerable local interest."
Tony pulled up the image JARVIS had captured. He studied the face for a moment.
"I've seen him before."
"He was seated with the Eternal delegation at the last tournament. Spectator section."
"Right." Tony set the image down. "So he's one of them, or he's running their money. Either way, that's the Eternals making a move." He thought about Thena's performance in the last cycle — secondary adamantium had bent under her hits. He'd won that match because of a medical forfeit, not because he'd found a way through her. "JARVIS, outbid them. Whatever they post, we go five hundred higher. Automatically. No ceiling."
"Confirmed. Standing instruction applied."
Tony picked up the gauntlet piece again. His parents' wish had been sitting in the back of his mind since the Dragon Balls went dormant after cycle three. He had the resources and the tech. What he needed was a ball, and then a performance in the ring that didn't depend on his opponent having a health episode.
This time, he wasn't leaving either to chance.