As Piccolo stepped onto the ring to face Frost, the announcer's voice boomed across the stadium.
"And now, the winner of the previous round, Frost, will face Piccolo of Universe 7! Let the match begin!"
"Ho ho ho. I didn't expect to see such a powerful Namekian in Universe 7," Frost said, offering a polite bow. "I hope you'll go easy on me during our exchange."
Piccolo scoffed, his expression one of pure disdain. "Hmph. Drop the act. It's nauseating. You don't actually think I missed your little stunt, do you? I won't be caught off guard like Goku was."
Frost's face instantly darkened.
"What?! A stunt? Vados, what happened?!" Champa barked, his face turning an angry shade of purple.
"Oh? Lord Champa didn't notice?" Vados replied, sounding surprised. "Frost actually cheated against Son Goku. I assumed you saw it, but perhaps you were distracted? He has a poison needle hidden in his right arm..."
Seeing Vados's questioning gaze, Champa's face grew even darker. "Hmph! Of course I noticed! I'm a God of Destruction!"
He glanced over at Beerus, only to find his rival staring back with a look of absolute smugness. Veins began to pop on Champa's forehead. He felt like Frost was making him look like a fool in front of Beerus.
He just wanted this over with. "Hey, Beerus! How about we just call this match a loss for my side?"
Down in the ring, Frost's heart sank. His worst fear was coming true.
But then, Piccolo spoke up. "Lord Beerus, there's no need to disqualify him. Don't worry—I'll make sure he walks away with a memory he'll never forget."
Seeing the icy smile on Piccolo's face, Beerus nodded. "Fine! Have it your way. Just don't lose."
Hearing Beerus's words, Champa sat back down, though his eyes were filled with murderous intent as he glared at Frost.
"Then I must thank Lord Beerus for his generosity," Piccolo said.
Frost let out a small sigh of relief. If the match continued, he might still have a chance to escape being destroyed by Champa.
"Heh, your confidence is impressive, Mr. Piccolo," Frost sneered. "But you're still no match for me!"
"Is that so? I hope you're still this confident in a minute."
"HAA!"
Piccolo powered up instantly. A white aura surged toward the sky, the sheer pressure causing sweat to bead on Frost's forehead.
"How is this possible?!"
"Nothing is impossible!"
"What—?!" Frost's pupils contracted in shock.
Piccolo had vanished. Before Frost could even blink, the Namekian was right in front of him, his fist buried deep into Frost's gut.
WHAM!
The force was so immense that Frost doubled over like a shrimp. A shockwave of energy erupted from his back. Before he could recover, Piccolo drove a knee hard into his chin.
Frost was sent spiraling into the air. His internal organs felt like they had been rearranged, and a spray of blood erupted from his mouth.
But Piccolo wasn't done yet. He flickered behind Frost and began delivering "Master Piccolo's Signature Massage"—a brutal, high-speed pummeling that hit every vital point on Frost's body.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Frost's screams of agony echoed through the arena.
"Hmph!"
With a final cold grunt, Piccolo brought both fists down in a massive hammer-blow, slamming Frost into the stage.
BOOM!
Frost crashed into the ring, creating a man-shaped crater. His eyes rolled back into his head as he lost consciousness instantly.
"Tsk, tsk. Piccolo really doesn't hold back," Turles joked from the sidelines. "I guess he really is the Son Family Nanny. Hey, Kakarot! Look, Piccolo got revenge for you!"
Goku gave a wry smile at Turles's teasing. He realized he had indeed been too overconfident lately. It was time for some serious self-reflection.
"Frost has been confirmed unconscious! Piccolo is the winner!"
"Hahaha! Well done, Piccolo!" Beerus laughed, shooting a triumphant look at Champa.
Champa's face was practically black with rage. "Curse you, Frost... I'll Hakai you the moment this tournament is over!"
"Next up, Piccolo of Universe 7 will face Auta Magetta of Universe 6!"
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
Heavy footsteps shook the arena as a massive metallic giant climbed onto the stage.
Magetta's hulking body was coated in a deep blue finish. A massive power furnace glowed in his chest, and steam hissed from the top of his head. He looked every bit the mechanical titan.
"Is that a robot?" Bulma mused. "The universe really is full of wonders..."
As soon as the match started, Piccolo lunged forward and threw a punch at Magetta's chest.
CLANG!
A heavy, metallic sound rang out. Magetta didn't budge an inch. Instead, Piccolo let out a muffled groan.
"Guh!"
His hand throbbed—punching Magetta was like hitting solid, reinforced steel.
Whoosh!
Magetta swung a massive, cold iron fist at Piccolo.
Flash!
BOOM!
Piccolo dodged just in time. Watching the crater Magetta's fist left in the ring, he wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.
"His body is incredibly tough... but at least he's not very fast."
Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!
Magetta used his sheer bulk to relentlessly pressure Piccolo. Piccolo flickered around him, retaliating with a point-blank Ki blast.
BOOM!
The energy orb exploded against Magetta's torso, shrouded him in thick smoke.
But as the old saying goes: "No smoke, no damage." When the haze cleared, Piccolo's face turned pale. Magetta didn't have a scratch on him. Not even the paint had chipped.
"Hey, now... that defense is just ridiculous."
HIIIIISS!
Steam began to vent violently from Magetta's head like a boiling kettle. Within the enclosed barrier of the ring, the temperature began to skyrocket.
"This isn't good," Whis noted. "As Magetta powers up, the temperature inside the barrier is rising rapidly and consuming the oxygen. Mr. Piccolo might not be able to last much longer."
"Ho ho ho! Hahahaha! This time, victory is ours!" Champa cheered, jumping back into the spirit of things. This was a fair fight—no cheating involved. Finally, he could brag to Beerus again. He had already completely forgotten about Frost.
Huff... puff... huff... puff...
Piccolo was drenched in sweat, staring down the metal giant. The extreme heat was draining his stamina at an alarming rate.
Swoosh!
Magetta, however, had no such limitations. He continued his frantic assault, opening his massive mouth and spitting torrents of red-hot lava at Piccolo.
Piccolo scrambled to dodge. The lava wasn't something he could just tank. But as the magma pooled on the stage, the temperature inside the ring climbed even higher.
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