The once-clear sky had suddenly darkened with a few ominous clouds, hiding the brilliant sunlight and casting a shadow over the tropical island.
The sea breeze turned sharp and biting, whipping the flags around the martial arts arena, their fluttering sounding like warning taps before a storm.
The crowd shivered slightly, tightening their clothing as the previously vibrant atmosphere grew tense and uneasy.
"Ladies and gentlemen! The final match of the quarter-finals is about to begin! This is the one everyone has been waiting for!"
The announcer's voice boomed through the speakers, trying to stir the crowd, though a barely noticeable tremor betrayed his unease.
As someone who had hosted tournaments for years, he instinctively sensed the danger.
"Please welcome our fighters!"
"On one side, the mysterious bald warrior who just defeated Yamcha with a single finger Krillin!"
"And on the other, the surprisingly imposing Second Generation Demon, Piccolo!"
Krillin strolled casually onto the stage, hands in his pockets. He wore his bright orange Turtle School gi, his bald head gleaming faintly under the cloudy sky. His expression was nonchalant, as if he were merely taking a walk.
Opposite him, the tall figure draped in a heavy white cloak and headwrap advanced slowly. Every step he took seemed to lower the temperature, spreading an oppressive aura that made it hard to breathe.
It felt like being watched by an ancient, predatory beast.
[Ding! System task activated.]
[Objective: Defeat Piccolo, Second Generation]
[Special Restriction: Under no circumstances may you kill the opponent. If Piccolo dies, the Earth Guardian will also perish, the Dragon Balls will become permanently invalid, and the story will irreversibly collapse.]
[Reward: Namekian regenerative ability (basic), massive reputation points]
Krillin pursed his lips, muttering under his breath.
"Can't kill him, have to win, and he has to accept defeat willingly… This system really knows how to make life difficult. This is harder than killing him."
Piccolo stopped five meters away from Krillin, his sharp eyes peeking through the gaps in his headwrap, fixed on Krillin like a predator observing a struggling insect. There was no outright murderous intent, just a cold, superior mockery.
"Heh heh heh…"
Piccolo's low, gravelly laugh grated against the ears, like rusted metal scraping together.
"Krillin…"
"I know that name. Years ago, you were just a little kid hiding behind Goku."
"Remember when Dabura crushed you like an ant? That sound of your bones breaking must have been so sweet to hear."
At this, Goku's fists clenched, knuckles whitening, teeth grinding. That was a memory of pain he never wanted to revisit.
"Krillin…"
Goku murmured softly, a flicker of worry in his eyes.
Krillin, however, just casually cleaned his ear and flicked his fingernail.
"Ah, that's right. But thanks to you, I got to take a little trip to the afterlife. Pretty scenery, and even got tea with King Yama."
"And you… reincarnation of the Demon King, why so talkative? Did no one ever chat with you, so you've bottled up all that anger?"
Piccolo's eyes darkened instantly, and the surrounding stones trembled slightly.
"Sharp-mouthed little brat. Hope your bones are as tough as your tongue."
With that, he ripped off his cloak and headwrap.
Thud! The heavy gear crashed to the ground, breaking through the cement floor and leaving two deep pits, dust rising in a cloud.
But that was not the main point.
With his disguise gone, Piccolo's signature green skin, pink musculature along his arms, pointed ears, and the twin antennae on his forehead were fully exposed.
The arena fell silent.
Time seemed to freeze.
Everyone the audience, referees, even fighters backstage gawked, pupils dilated in disbelief.
Then panic spread like wildfire.
"Green… green skin… that's…"
"That face! That appearance! It's Demon King Piccolo!"
"Oh my god! Didn't he die? How is he here?!"
"Run! The Demon King is back! We're going to be killed!"
"Mom! I want to go home!"
The stands erupted. Screams and cries pierced the air. People shoved each other to escape, chairs overturned, popcorn scattered everywhere. Some even collapsed in fear.
Even the usually composed announcer dove under his table, microphone rattling on the floor.
Fear gripped every Earthling's heart, a shadow from Piccolo's reign of terror years ago.
"Quiet."
Krillin spoke, his voice soft yet piercing through the chaos, a strange calmness radiating that steadied some of the panicked spectators.
"Demon King Piccolo is dead."
"The green-skinned creature in front of you is just a bit moody, nothing more."
"Those who want to flee can flee. Those who want to watch me handle him, stay seated. With me here, he won't cause a ripple."
Confidence radiated from Krillin, hands in pockets, standing like an immovable mountain.
Piccolo's veins bulged, eyes burning with barely contained fury.
"A bit moody? A green-skinned monster? Fine, Krillin. You've successfully angered me."
"I will make you wish you could die and cannot! I will tear your limbs off one by one!"
Boom!
Piccolo moved.
This time, there was no testing.
The ground beneath him shattered instantly as he became a green streak of lightning, appearing right in front of Krillin. His veiny claws cut through the air, aiming straight for Krillin's throat.
Even Goku and Tien in the audience squinted in shock.
"Too slow."
Krillin didn't even widen his eyes.
He casually raised his left hand, pinching his index and middle fingers together.
Snap.
The claws, capable of tearing steel and crushing rock, were firmly held between Krillin's fingers.
All the momentum vanished. The gale-force air pressure dissipated, only fluttering a strand of hair on Krillin's forehead.
"What?!"
Piccolo's shock was visible for the first time. His hand felt welded between two mountains, immovable.
"Strong enough… maybe could give an elephant a massage," Krillin commented lightly, flicking it away.
Piccolo was hurled backward like discarded trash.
Yet, as a genius of the demon race, he quickly adjusted midair, shooting two searing purple beams from his eyes.
"Demon Light Eye!"
Ssshh…
The lasers, faster than light, burned the air with the scent of scorched metal.
Krillin stood still, took a deep breath, and blew out toward the beams.
Whoosh…
Like extinguishing birthday candles, the lasers reversed midair and dissipated harmlessly.
"Impossible!!"
Piccolo landed, eyes wide with fear. That technique alone should not be extinguished with just a breath.
"Nothing is impossible."
Krillin dusted himself off and called up the system panel.
[Host: Krillin]
[Current Status: Extremely bored]
[Power Level: 1200 (suppressed to 30%)]
[Opponent: Piccolo]
[Win Rate: 100%]
"Show me your real strength, Piccolo."
Krillin beckoned with a finger, eyes glinting with provocation.
"Don't make me think the demon who killed me back then was just a joke."
Piccolo's pride shattered. He roared, aura exploding, arms stretching like rubber as he unleashed a relentless storm of attacks from every direction.
"Die! Die! Die!"
No matter how fast or tricky, Krillin countered each attack with simple precision. Left hand blocked, right hand deflected, occasionally sidestepping.
Krillin was like an adult playing with a child, every move effortless, almost casual.
"Is this all you've got?"
He yawned while catching one of Piccolo's punches single-handedly.
"If this is it, you don't even deserve to make me sweat."
Piccolo panted, staring at the small bald Earthling. Fear, anger, and humiliation clashed within him.
He could not comprehend how, in just three years, this human had become so strong beyond his own understanding of power.
"Unforgivable… Absolutely unforgivable!!"