Because there were simply too many contestants—and because their skill levels varied wildly—the World Martial Arts Tournament was divided into two stages: the preliminary rounds and the main event.
Only the top eight from the preliminaries would advance to the televised tournament matches that the audience actually got to see.
The results of the preliminaries were generally not made public, mainly to protect the pride of certain martial artists. After all, getting knocked out in the very first round could be… humiliating.
Inside the vast arena hosting the preliminaries, the crowd was overwhelming—a sea of people from every corner of the world. There were all sorts of martial artists, and animal-type humanoids were everywhere.
After all, many of them had natural physical advantages compared to ordinary humans.
Naruto even spotted a few hopping little zombie-like creatures and hulking gorillas.
Could it be… those gorillas aren't even humanoid? And what the heck species are those "little zombies"?
Not just the races—everyone's clothing was wildly varied too.
Naruto even saw a few guys wearing underwear on the outside.
Though, of course, none of them had the big red "S" on their chest.
"These contestants' energy levels aren't very high," Naruto noted as he scanned the surroundings with his senses. "Most of them are about on par with an average genin—or even weaker."
If the Naruto world was notorious for having absurd power gaps in its later years,
then the Dragon Ball world was on another level entirely.
According to Dragon Ball Z's power scaling, an ordinary Earthling had a power level of around 5,
while a low-class Saiyan soldier could easily reach 1,200.
And that was just the start—later there would be beings whose power levels reached tens of thousands, even millions.
In this world, a flick of a finger could literally erase someone from existence.
The weak were truly weak—but the strong were unimaginably strong.
"Thank you all for your hard work, and for traveling from all around the world to be here," the announcer said cheerfully over the speakers.
"Due to the tournament's growing popularity, this year's number of registered contestants has reached an astonishing 183—and the number is still rising!
However, only eight will advance to the main event, so competition will be fierce.
I hope each of you gives your best and leaves no regrets!"
True to his nature, Goku was the only one not paying attention.
While everyone else listened earnestly to the explanation, he was happily munching on a rice ball the size of his face.
Now I'm hungry too. Naruto, got anything to eat?
Inside the sealed space, Kakarot's appetite flared up at the sight.
Just ramen, Naruto replied. Want some? That's all I've been eating lately.
Ramen again? Hmph, fine—make it a hundred bowls. Oh, and add extra noodles to all of them.
In no time, steaming bowls of ramen appeared, and Kakarot began slurping away contentedly.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the hall—
"Chiaotzu, make sure that kid who annoyed Master earlier ends up in the same group as me," said Tien Shinhan, his narrow eyes glinting as he glanced at the number he had drawn.
"I'll make sure to teach him a lesson."
A cold light flashed in Tien's gaze.
"I'm in Group 3, number 99. Move him over to my group."
Raised and trained under the Crane Hermit, Tien's ambition at this stage was still to become the world's greatest assassin—a successor to the infamous Tao Pai Pai.
"Got it, Brother Tien," said Chiaotzu.
He lifted one small hand, tracing a circle in the air as his fingertip glowed with faint blue light.
At that exact moment, Naruto reached into the box to draw his number.
He handed the slip to the staff member.
"Group 4, number 150," the official announced.
Tien froze. "Chiaotzu… did you mess up? I said Group 3, not Group 4.
After 99 comes 100, not 150."
Chiaotzu stared blankly at his own finger for a few seconds, then said in confusion,
"Brother Tien… my psychic power doesn't seem to be working."
He was completely sure he had used it—but it had no effect.
Tien didn't doubt his partner for a moment.
If Chiaotzu's psychic power failed, it could only mean one thing—someone had nullified it.
"…Interesting," Tien murmured, casting a discreet glance at Naruto.
"I hope this guy makes it to the top eight."
"When that time comes, I'll deal with him myself."
At the referee's call, Naruto stepped up onto the ring.
"Contestant number 150—Naruto Uzumaki!"
"Contestant number 151—Puff (OC)!"
Naruto's opponent was a man with a small afro hairstyle and both hands wrapped in white bandages.
As soon as he entered, he showed off with a flashy warm-up—
rapid punches and quick footwork, moving as fast as he could, looking all serious and professional.
To the untrained eye, it was quite an impressive display.
But to Naruto, who was skilled in sensing energy, the man's power was nothing special—a mere crowd-tier fighter.
Maybe twice as strong as the average martial artist here. Maybe.
"Puff?" Naruto thought the name fit.
The crowd, however, clearly didn't share his indifference.
"Wait, that's Puff, the famous martial arts star, isn't it?" one voice whispered.
"Yeah! I heard he's won two consecutive world-level fighting championships!" said another.
"Then why's someone like that joining this tournament? Don't tell me it's for that measly 500,000 zeni prize?"
"Are you kidding? One commercial of his earns him five million zeni! It's definitely not about the money."
"He's a professional in mixed martial arts and kickboxing—why enter the Tenkaichi Budokai?"
"Probably wants another championship under his belt."
"A triple world champion… that's insane."
"Damn it. If he's here, the rest of us might as well give up."
"Weren't you just eliminated by that bald kid earlier?"
Hearing all the murmurs, Puff only grew more smug.
He strutted around the ring even more dramatically, basking in the attention—
while Naruto just stood quietly, watching him show off.
"Hey, look over at Ring 2—it's King Chapa!"
"His opponent's last year's runner-up!"
"King Chapa, the Eight-Armed Fist master—he's won this tournament multiple times! They say he's never lost once he steps onto the ring!"
"Puff and King Chapa in the same prelims? This year's tournament is on another level!"
"Whoa, it's over already—King Chapa just lost!"
"So fast! Guess the Eight-Armed Fist isn't that unbeatable after all…"
While everyone chatted, the supposedly "invincible" King Chapa had already been defeated in mere moments.
And over on Naruto's side, Puff was still hopping around the ring like a showboating monkey.
"How unfortunate for you," Puff finally said, realizing Naruto hadn't even reacted to his performance.
He looked at Naruto with mock sympathy.
"You've run into me."
He raised his hand and spread out five fingers.
"Five seconds. That's all I'll need to finish you off."
"Begin!"
Puff lunged forward, moving at what he thought was blinding speed.
Before Naruto could even "react," he threw a punch—
and then instantly pulled it back.
Done.
Thud!
Puff collapsed face-first onto the ring floor and didn't get up again.
Just like that, the so-called two-time "world champion" was one-shotted by Naruto.
"Don't think I won't hit you just because you look like a young version of Mr. Satan," Naruto said flatly.
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