The staff members were still working like industrious ants, repairing the arena that had been blasted apart by Goku and Tien Shinhan.
Debris was hauled away, and new stone slabs were laid down.
Although the colors didn't match—making it look like a patched-up old cotton coat—it was at least solid enough for someone to stand on.
"Alright... thank you all for waiting!"
The Announcer wiped the sweat from his forehead, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose like a playground slide.
"The second match of the semi-finals: Krillin versus Mr. Shen!"
Krillin stuffed the last handful of popcorn into his mouth and patted his hands clean.
The crumbs were pulverized into dust by the invisible aura surrounding him before they even hit the ground.
"Go for it, Krillin! Send that old guy flying!" Bulma waved her fists from the second floor.
Krillin looked back and gave a smile capable of making any female creature's heart skip a beat.
Then, with a light tap of his toes, he drifted onto the stage as weightlessly as a feather.
Opposite him, the middle-aged man known as "Mr. Shen" slowly walked up.
He wore glasses as thick as the bottom of a beer bottle, a cheap suit, and carried a briefcase.
He looked exactly like a weary salaryman who had just finished work and was heading to an izakaya for a drink.
But Krillin knew who was beneath that skin.
The God of Earth, Kami.
The benevolent half who shared a single life with King Piccolo.
The two stood in the center of the arena, barely two meters apart.
Mr. Shen pushed up his glasses, the reflection on the lenses hiding his gaze.
The noisy crowd, the Announcer's shouting, and the distant sound of waves all seemed to vanish between them.
"Young man."
Mr. Shen spoke in a very low voice. He didn't use his mouth—his words echoed directly in Krillin's mind.
"Regarding the matter with Piccolo, I thank you."
Telepathy?
Krillin didn't even twitch an eyebrow as he replied in his mind as well.
"Don't mention it, it was no big deal. If I'd let him blow up this island, I'd be surprised if my master didn't crack my head open with his cane!"
Mr. Shen fell silent for a moment, seemingly not expecting such a down-to-earth response.
"You don't seem surprised that I know who you are, nor that I know what you've done."
His voice took on a hint of gravity.
"More importantly... I cannot smell the scent of 'this world' on you."
Krillin's hand, tucked in his pocket, paused slightly.
The God of this world really did have some tricks.
He had originally thought that with the Saitama template, he could walk all over everyone in this early stage of Dragon Ball, where only combat power seemed to matter.
But in this world, combat power was only the surface.
Mystical elements like the Grand Elder of Planet Namek unlocking potential, the cheat skill known as the Kaio-ken, and the higher-dimensional Ultra Instinct were the true high-level forces.
If Kami could perceive him as a "transmigrator" or an "anomaly," then what about King Kai?
What about the Supreme Kai?
Or even Beerus, the God of Destruction who loved to sleep?
Alarm bells rang in Krillin's head, but his face grew even more bored.
He picked his ear and blew away nonexistent earwax.
"Old man, seeing through things without saying them is the secret to a long life."
"Look at you, you're quite old; it can't be easy possessing this mortal body. What if you throw out your back?"
"As I thought." Mr. Shen sighed.
"Though your soul and body have undergone a perfect fusion, that inherent 'sense of foreignness' is like a drop of ink in clear water—it is far too conspicuous.
I originally intended to come here to seal Piccolo, but looking at the current situation, as long as you are here, he won't be able to cause any trouble.
Even though the issue with Piccolo has been resolved by you and I should take my leave, I must confirm one thing..."
Those aged eyes hidden behind the thick lenses suddenly became sharp.
"Is this power of yours, which does not belong to this world, ultimately good or evil?"
Krillin glanced at the panel in front of him.
[Host: Krillin]
[Current Fusion Level: 16%]
[Power: 120 (Currently suppressed, no upper limit for outbursts)]
[Agility: 150]
[Intelligence: 50]
[Charisma: 95]
[Special Skills: Serious Series, Bald Authority, Beast Intuition, Genius Intellect, Planet Namek Regeneration Physique (Elementary)]
"Good or evil?" Krillin laughed recklessly.
"That kind of multiple-choice question is for children. What does it have to do with me? I'm just a bald guy who wants to get stronger and maybe live a comfortable life.
As for whether I'll endanger Earth... As long as no one disturbs my eating, sleeping, or chasing girls, Earth is the safest place in the universe."
Mr. Shen stared at Krillin for a full ten seconds.
"I hope so. However, since I'm already here, let's exchange a few blows."
He gently placed his briefcase by the edge of the arena and removed his suit jacket, folding it neatly.
"I also want to know just how strong you are—someone who could disable even Piccolo with a single punch."
"Want to test my foundations?" Krillin cracked his neck, producing a series of sharp pops.
"Fine. I also want to see what kind of tricks a so-called 'God' has, besides living a long time."
"Match—begin!"
At the referee's command, Mr. Shen's aura changed.
A moment ago, he was a decadent middle-aged man.
Now, he was a mountain. An ocean.
Although his combat power under the System's scan was only a few hundred, his presence felt unshakable.
"This feeling..." Master Roshi removed his sunglasses at the sidelines, his cloudy old eyes widening.
"It's not just Ki, this is a... realm?"
"How strange." Goku scratched his head.
"That old guy's Ki clearly isn't strong, so why does it feel like it's everywhere?"
Krillin didn't move.
He was waiting.
Mr. Shen moved.
Without warning or explosive motion, he simply took a plain, ordinary step forward.
That single step created a massive sense of displacement.
As if shrinking the distance itself, he was instantly in front of Krillin.
One finger.
Mr. Shen extended a finger and lightly poked toward the center of Krillin's forehead.
The movement seemed slow, but it sealed off all the flow of Ki around Krillin.
In the eyes of a martial artist, this was a guaranteed hit—impossible to evade.
"You're looking down on me a bit too much."
Krillin didn't even take his hands out of his pockets; he simply leaned his upper body back slightly.
The finger brushed past the tip of his nose.
"Hmm?" Mr. Shen let out a soft sound of surprise.
The move looked simple, but it contained the laws of a God, capable of predicting the opponent's Ki flow.
Logically, Krillin should have dodged to the left, running straight into his follow-up attack.
But Krillin had no flowing Ki.
Or rather, his Ki was so immense and solidified that it didn't flow at all. It was like a solid iron plate.
"That's the first move."
Krillin straightened and looked at Mr. Shen.
"As a model of respecting the elderly, I'll give you three moves. Two left."
A cold light flashed across Mr. Shen's lenses.
To be so disregarded by a young brat—even a God felt a flicker of embarrassment.
"Arrogant boy."
Mr. Shen's hands suddenly formed a strange seal, and a whirlwind swirled around his otherwise ordinary body.
This wasn't a normal air current, but a telekinetic storm carrying immense mental pressure.
"Divine Technique: Kiai Cannon!"
It wasn't a straightforward energy wave, but an invisible impact that struck directly at the opponent's internal organs and nerves.
The debris on the arena didn't move. The air didn't explode.
But the stone slabs beneath Krillin's feet silently crumbled into fine powder.
"Oh? This is somewhat interesting."
Krillin felt as if countless invisible needles were pricking his skin.
But it was only somewhat interesting.
Inside his body, the Absolute Defense provided by the Saitama template activated automatically.
The telekinetic shock—strong enough to give an ordinary martial artist a concussion—slammed into Krillin's biological force field like raindrops hitting tank armor.
Not even a sound was heard.
"That's the second move, Mr. God."
A drop of cold sweat seeped down Mr. Shen's forehead.
If it were Piccolo, he might have shaken it off with brute force.
If it were Goku, he might have dodged with speed.
But this bald guy... he took it head-on?
And he's completely unharmed?
This completely defies martial arts common sense!
"How is this possible..." Mr. Shen murmured.
"Even Mr. Popo couldn't completely ignore my mental shock."
"Because your magnitude is too small." Krillin pointed to his own head.
"If you want to move an elephant, the buzzing of an ant won't do it. One last move. Don't hold back. Let me see something that truly belongs to a 'God.'"
...
Author's Note:
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