Smith Dole's words—that only the champion of the Dragon Ball Tournament had the right to wish—made Karl Mordo burn with anger.
"It is because of sorcerers like us that Earth enjoys peace and stability! Without us, not just these people, but the entire planet would have long since fallen! Is it truly so hard for you to use the Dragon Balls to strengthen the barriers, or to forever end the threat of extra-dimensional demons? Or is it because I'm Black that you refuse? The Dragon Balls should never be held by a racist like you!"
Smith actually laughed, though his eyes flashed with cold fire. If he gave in every time someone came knocking with a sob story, then every stray cat and dog in the universe would demand a wish. Should Thor Odinson walk in tomorrow to demand a wish for Asgard? Should the Eternals demand one for Tina? Should the Skrulls claim one for a new homeworld? His rules existed for a reason.
And now this fool had the gall to claim the Dragon Balls shouldn't belong to him.
"Smack!"
Smith appeared before Mordo in a blur and slapped him across the face, sending him sprawling to the floor.
"You should be grateful your master is the Ancient One," Smith said coldly. "If not, a worthless cur like you wouldn't even have the right to stand in my presence. And don't delude yourself—Earth is guarded because of the Ancient One. Do you really think you could stop a dimensional incursion?"
Mordo lay stunned, cheek swelling red and high. The shock quickly curdled into fury. He scrambled to his feet, conjuring his twin eldritch blades.
Smith only smiled. A punch crashed forward.
"Boom!"
The magical weapons shattered instantly, his fist plowing through their fragile constructs. Another slap cracked across Mordo's other cheek, puffing it into a swollen mirror of the first.
"Much better," Smith sneered. "At least now you're symmetrical."
Face burning, Mordo spat curses.
"You Nazi! You racist! You are unworthy to wield the Dragon Balls—you'll only upset the balance of nature!"
Smith's face darkened. He drove a brutal punch into Mordo's mouth.
"Boom!"
Mordo smashed through the office wall, cratering the lawn outside. He rose seconds later, groaning, mouth a ruin of blood and shattered teeth.
Smith stepped into the ragged hole in the wall, glaring down at him.
"Nothing of worth ever comes from a dog's mouth. It seems you no longer need those teeth."
Humiliation boiled Mordo's veins. Was this savagery simply because of his skin? Rage overtook him. Slamming his palms into the ground, he conjured a Mirror Dimension around them both. The Assassin Brotherhood's headquarters warped and folded inwards, crushing toward Smith.
Smith didn't flinch. Magic was no mystery to him—Piccolo himself wielded sorcery. Against the Ancient One, armed with the Eye of Agamotto, Smith would tread carefully. But Karl Mordo? A man who couldn't even defeat Kaecilius? He was nothing.
Power roared from Smith, his ki erupting to a battle level of twenty-two thousand.
"Boom!"
The Mirror Dimension trembled, its constructs shattering under the sheer pressure of his aura. Buildings buckled, landscapes splintered.
Mordo screamed, pouring every ounce of magic into stabilizing the prison.
"This… this can't be! Hold together!"
Barely, the realm steadied. Smith scoffed.
"So weak. I doubt you'll ever inherit the title of Sorcerer Supreme."
Then, with a smirk, he raised two fingers in a mocking gesture, like Nappa of the Saiyans. He flicked them upward.
"Boom!"
The Mirror Dimension shattered like glass.
"Crack!"
Reality snapped back, hurling both men onto the lawn outside.
Alarms blared. Guards and assassins rushed in, with Xu Wenwu himself among them, drawn by the explosion.
They found Mordo broken and unconscious, blood streaming down his face. Smith grabbed him by the collar, and with a flick of his arm hurled him away. Mordo's limp body streaked across the sky like a falling star—thrown back toward Kamar-Taj.
The onlookers gaped. Xu Wenwu stepped forward.
"Leader, what happened?"
Smith dusted his hands off, as if brushing away dirt.
"Nothing serious. Just taking out the trash."
His gaze flicked toward the hole in the wall.
"Have the staff repair my office."
······
(End of Chapter)
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