Papaya Island.
This was the holy land of martial artists worldwide. The grand tournament held once every three years would begin tomorrow.
Even with a full day remaining before the opening match, the island was already packed to the brim.
Colorful umbrellas bloomed across the streets like oversized mushrooms, clogging the narrow roads until not a drop of rain could slip through.
Martial arts fans from every corner of the globe, street vendors, and fighters dreaming of overnight fame filled the air with restless excitement.
The registration desk was set up at the entrance of the Martial Arts Temple. Rainwater streamed down the curved eaves, splashing against the stone tiles below.
"Next!"
The registrar, a bespectacled middle-aged man, knocked impatiently on the table.
"Name?"
"King Chappa."
A dark-skinned, powerfully built man in a yellow gi answered proudly, deliberately flexing his biceps.
"I made it into the top eight last time."
"Got it, got it. Fill in the form and move along."
The registrar did not even look up. Clearly, he had heard this speech many times before.
A ripple of commotion rose from the back of the line.
A massive red umbrella blocked the rain for an elderly man in sunglasses.
Master Roshi wore his iconic orange Hawaiian shirt, hands clasped behind his back, looking every bit like a wise grandmaster.
That illusion held up perfectly, as long as one ignored his eyes constantly sneaking glances at the legs of passing women.
"Master Roshi, there are too many people here."
The one speaking was Krillin.
He did not carry an umbrella.
Rain slid smoothly off his bald head without leaving so much as a droplet behind.
He wore an orange Turtle School gi, with a black compression vest underneath.
This Krillin was different from three days ago.
His gaze was calmer, almost vacant.
A side effect of deeper synchronization with the Saitama template. Most things simply failed to spark interest anymore.
"A crowd makes it lively."
Master Roshi chuckled, wiping drool from the corner of his mouth.
"And who knows. Maybe we will meet some beautiful female fighters."
"That is the true spirit of the tournament."
Walking at the back, Yamcha wore a dark expression, burdened with bags of luggage.
As the current holder of both lowest battle power and worst romantic luck, he had been forced into the role of porter.
"Unbelievable. Why am I stuck doing this kind of grunt work?"
Yamcha gritted his teeth.
"And that traitor Puar. Running off to hang out with Oolong of all people."
"Stop complaining. Consider it weighted training."
Krillin glanced back, chewing on a freshly bought hot dog.
"Want some? Their mustard is pretty good. Only five bucks."
Yamcha opened his mouth to refuse, but his stomach betrayed him with a loud growl.
"Save me half!"
At that moment, a powerful presence descended.
The noisy crowd parted as if pushed aside by invisible hands, falling into sudden silence.
Three figures emerged from the curtain of rain.
At the front stood a tall man with three eyes. Each step he took sent heavy ripples through the puddles on the ground.
A small figure floated beside him, and a blonde woman followed closely behind.
The Crane School.
"Isn't that the Turtle School?"
Tien stopped, his cold gaze sweeping across them before settling on Krillin.
He could not sense any flow of ki from Krillin at all.
Like an ordinary passerby. No, even weaker. Like a plant.
That made him wary.
Yamcha dropped the luggage and stepped forward, trying to reclaim some dignity.
"This year, the championship will belong to the Turtle School."
Tien did not even glance at Yamcha. His eyes remained fixed on Krillin.
"Where is Goku? Did he not come?"
"He should arrive soon."
Krillin swallowed the last bite of his hot dog and flicked the skewer into a trash bin ten meters away without looking.
"But right now, you might not even beat me."
His tone was sincere. No mockery. Just a statement of fact.
As casual as saying it was raining.
To Tien, it sounded like the ultimate provocation.
"Hmph. Big words."
A vein throbbed on Tien's forehead.
"Let's hope your fists are half as tough as your mouth."
The air between them crackled with tension.
Then a loud, energetic voice dropped from the sky.
"Hey! Everyone!"
They all looked up.
A dark figure plunged down from the clouds at full speed, showing no intention of slowing.
Boom!
Mud and water exploded outward.
The ground caved in, sending people fleeing in panic.
As the dust settled, a soaked young man stood at the bottom of the crater.
His grin was dazzling, and the spiky hair made his identity obvious.
His gi was clearly a size too small, stretched tight over solid muscle.
"Goku?!"
Everyone froze.
Bulma, who had just rushed over from her hotel with a capsule case in hand, covered her mouth.
"That is Goku? When did he get so tall? And he actually looks kind of handsome."
Yamcha's face darkened further.
"Grandpa Roshi! Everyone!"
Goku leapt out of the crater and ran over excitedly.
Then he stopped short.
This bald guy's ki. And no nose.
"Krillin, when did you get so tall? You look just like me!"
He hugged Krillin enthusiastically and slapped his back.
Krillin was shaken like a rag doll, rain spraying from his head.
"Goku."
Krillin sighed, eyes lifeless.
"I am happy to see you, but could you let go? My spine is about to snap."
Goku released him, scratching his head.
"Oops. Sorry. Got too excited."
"By the way, did you get stronger? Your ki feels weird."
"You just don't understand."
Krillin smoothed out his wrinkled clothes.
"More importantly, did you bring money? We need to pay the registration fee."
Goku froze and searched his pockets.
"Huh? It costs money? I only caught a fish on the way here."
While they were catching up, a cold voice sounded from beneath a nearby awning.
"What a touching reunion."
They turned.
A man in a pink robe leaned against a pillar, half his face metallic, a mechanical eye locked onto Goku.
"Tao Pai Pai?!"
Master Roshi's eyes widened behind his sunglasses.
"You are still alive?"
"Thanks to these two brats, I am stronger than ever."
Tao Pai Pai raised his mechanical arm. A blade snapped out, gleaming coldly.
"In this tournament, I will slice you all into sashimi."
Goku tilted his head, puzzled.
"Who are you? That bad guy I blew up?"
Tao Pai Pai stumbled, his killer aura shattering instantly.
"You bastard! I am Tao Pai Pai! The world's greatest assassin!"
"Oh. You."
Goku nodded, then turned back to Krillin.
"Krillin, I ate a huge fish on the way, but I am still hungry. Did you bring food?"
Completely ignored, Tao Pai Pai trembled with rage.
His mechanical arm screeched under overload, black smoke puffing out.
"Unforgivable. Absolutely unforgivable!"
Krillin shook his head helplessly and pulled a pack of compressed biscuits from his pocket, handing it to Goku.
"Eat. Looks like this tournament is going to be noisy."
He glanced at his system panel.
Saitama Template Synchronization: 16 percent
Current Mission: Win the tournament without revealing full strength.
Krillin yawned and rubbed his bald head.
"Hopefully it will be at least a little interesting."
The rain continued to fall.
But everyone knew that when the sun rose tomorrow, this island would erupt.
Everyone was here.
All that remained was to fight.