The wind carried a different energy today.
At Capsule Corp, deep within the rumbling of the gravity chamber, Vegeta stood with arms crossed, eyes narrowed, and sweat trailing down his temple. The air around him pulsed, thick with pressure—150 times Earth's gravity.
This level of training should crush a child…
But Trunks, panting heavily, grinned beneath his lavender bangs.
"I'd better become a Super Saiyan before I get flattened…" His voice trembled—but his resolve didn't.
Then, in a flash of golden light, Trunks transformed—effortlessly.
Vegeta's jaw tightened. His eyes widened, not in fear but in disbelief.
Wh-What the hell…? He just—?!
He's transformed into the Super Saiyan of legend… like it's nothing?!
Trunks jumped and flipped through the air as if gravity no longer mattered.
"Heh. Piece of cake!" he chuckled, landing gracefully on the ground.
Vegeta's lips curled into a scowl. His fists clenched.
"Tell me something, Trunks." His tone sharpened like a blade. "Can Rykon's kid—and Gohan's little brother—do this too?"
Trunks nodded innocently. "Yeah…"
Vegeta's eyebrow twitched.
Tch. What is this, some sort of Super Saiyan bargain sale…?
Dammit. What the hell is this world coming to…?
The day finally arrived—the day of the World Tournament.
Rykon groaned, face buried in his pillow. His muscles ached from last night's late training session. Maybe I can sleep for five more—
"DAD! GET UP!"
His eyes snapped open. Blayze stood at the doorway, arms flailing like a malfunctioning robot.
"We're going to be late!"
Rykon yawned, scratching his head.
"We still have thirty minutes… I'm going back to sleep."
Blayze pouted. "Dad, it's 8:00 AM!"
"Wait—WHAT?!" Rykon shot out of bed, adrenaline overriding exhaustion. He threw on his Saiyan armor in record time, his heart pounding like a war drum.
"Where's your mom?!"
Blayze shrugged, already halfway down the stairs. "Probably in the bathroom… doing makeup or picking clothes or something."
Oh god…
Rykon sprinted to the bathroom. Of course, Blayze was right. Android 18 sat calmly, holding two outfits in each hand, lips pursed in thought.
"18, come on! We have to go!" Rykon barked, pacing in place like a caged animal. "Just pick something random!"
She raised an eyebrow, cool and collected. "Excuse me? This is a special occasion. I'm not going to throw on anything."
Rykon groaned, eyes rolling. "You're not a Saiyan. I get it… fine…"
He trudged back downstairs, where Blayze was already tapping away on his phone.
"Let me guess," Blayze smirked without looking up, "I was right?"
"Unfortunately."
"Sooo… can you turn off parental controls now?"
"Do you have a death wish? Your mom would kill me."
Blayze sighed dramatically. "It's not like I'm going to download anything bad! I just want apps, Dad."
"Tell that to your mom."
After two agonizing minutes, 18 finally came downstairs.
"Alright. Let's go."
They blasted off into the sky, soaring toward Satan City—the wind whipping past them like sonic waves.
At the tournament grounds
Crowds gathered like waves of ants, murmuring and buzzing with excitement. Krillin waved from afar.
"Hey! Took your sweet time, huh?"
"Sorry," Rykon said, scratching his head. "We had… difficulties."
Android 18's eyes narrowed at the sea of people. "So many humans in one place. I hate it."
Bulma chuckled beside her. "Tell me about it."
Suddenly, a roar erupted from the crowd behind them.
"IT'S MR. SATAN!"
The so-called "Champion of Earth" arrived, flexing for the cameras, his mustache glistening like polished armor.
"HELLO TO ALL MY ADORING FANS! YOU READY?!"
Rykon's stomach twisted. The crowd's eating this up. How disgusting.
Piccolo landed silently beside them, arms crossed.
"Piccolo!" Gohan smiled, but his eyes darted around nervously. "Hey, have you seen my dad anywhere?"
"No sign of him."
"Wait, that's right!" Rykon blinked. "Kakarot's supposed to be here!"
Blayze laughed, nudging Goten. "Did you hear that? Kakarot."
"Hehehe, that's a funny name!"
But before anyone could say more, Rykon's senses flared.
Someone's approaching—fast.
A familiar energy signature landed in front of them.
A warm smile. Spiky black hair.
"Heh heh… Hey guys!"
The crowd stood still, as if time had frozen.
"G-Goku…" Chi-Chi's eyes welled up.
"Dad!" Gohan sprinted into his arms.
Rykon stepped forward, smirking. "Well, look who finally showed up."
Goku scratched his head. "Wow, you guys changed a lot! Wait—there's even a kid here I don't know!"
Blayze shuffled awkwardly. Rykon nudged him forward.
"That's your nephew, Kakarot."
"Nephew?!" Goku's eyes widened. "Wait—WHAT?! You had a whole kid while I was gone?!"
Rykon laughed. "Yep. Oh, and by the way—18's the mom. We're married now."
"WHAAAAAAAAAAT?!"
Goku's jaw nearly dislocated from shock.
Blayze shuffled closer, his voice soft. "My name's Blayze. Dad told me about you… He says you're a good guy."
Goku ruffled his hair. "Heh. Then I can't wait to see how strong you are!"
Later, at the waiting room
Plates slammed onto tables. Food vanished into Saiyan mouths like black holes.
Rykon inhaled his lasagna.
Goku slurped ramen noodles, grinning. "Man, Earth food… it's the best."
"Yeah? Must suck being dead." Rykon chuckled.
"Shut up!" Goku grinned back, bits of noodles still hanging from his lips.
Vegeta gnawed on chicken and rice, pretending not to enjoy himself.
Piccolo sat silently. "Namekians only need water," he muttered.
Rykon smirked. "Sounds boring."
Piccolo shot him a look. "Sounds disgusting having to poop."
As the group laughed, tension simmered beneath the surface.
Android 18's eyes narrowed. "I can't believe that Mr. Satan fool is actually competing."
Rykon's expression darkened for a moment. "For a human? He's not bad. If he trained with us, he might've been stronger than Krillin."
"Hey!" Krillin shouted from across the table. "Leave me out of this!"
Suddenly, the room shifted.
A pair of unfamiliar figures entered.
One was small, purple-skinned, with a calm aura that sent chills down Rykon's spine. The other—tall, quiet, mysterious.
They approached Goku and Rykon with unnerving precision.
"Good afternoon," the small one said politely. "You wouldn't happen to be Goku and Rykon, would you?"
Rykon's stomach tightened. What the hell…?
"Yes," Goku said, eyes narrowing. "How do you know us?"
"I've traveled far. I was hoping for the chance to fight one of you."
Their politeness felt like poison wrapped in silk.
Something's wrong here. I don't like this…
The stranger extended a hand. "May I shake your hand?"
Goku smiled awkwardly and accepted.
Rykon hesitated. His gut screamed at him.
(Kakarot… something's off!)
(Just shake it, Rykon… he doesn't seem like a bad guy.)
(I don't trust this… but fine.)
Rykon took his hand—and the stranger smiled, unsettlingly.
"I'm honored," the purple-skinned man said softly before turning away.
The Selection Round
One by one, warriors slammed their fists into the punching machine, scores lighting up the board.
Android 18 stepped forward. Wolf whistles echoed from the crowd.
"Get a load of number 84—she's a chick!"
Rykon's eyes narrowed, a vein twitching in his forehead.
"I'm going to snap their necks."
Goku grabbed his arm. "Breathe, Rykon."
"I AM breathing."
With a casual punch, Android 18 scored a 774, breaking the machine.
"Oops," she said flatly.
Vegeta stepped up next. "Stand back."
The machine shattered into pieces before he even broke a sweat.
Rykon sighed. So much for going easy.
The Junior Division
In the stands, the adults leaned forward as Blayze and Trunks faced off for the final match.
Their fists clashed, sending shockwaves through the arena. Dust spiraled in the air.
Blayze gritted his teeth. Every time we fight, you beat me… but not this time!
Trunks smirked, eyes gleaming. "Keep dreaming, Blayze."
The battle escalated—feet skidding, fists colliding, and energy crackling like lightning.
Blayze's mind raced.
Dad taught me this… focus. Don't get reckless.
But then—
"PRIME BLAST!"
A silver beam shot from Blayze's hand.
"BLAYZE, NO!" Trunks shouted.
The beam rocketed toward the crowd—but Trunks transformed into a Super Saiyan, deflecting it into the sky.
Breathing heavily, Trunks approached his cousin.
"You knew exactly what you were doing, didn't you?" he whispered. "You were going to cut the blast off before it hit the crowd, huh?"
Blayze chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow. "Maybe…"
Trunks smirked. "Then let's finish this in the sky."
They launched into the air for round two, fists glowing, eyes locked.
After the fight
Trunks emerged victorious—but barely.
Blayze lay on the ground, fists pounding the floor.
"Dang it! Every time…"
Trunks knelt beside him. "Hey—it's the first time you lasted this long. You're getting stronger."
Blayze sniffed. "Yeah… maybe."
"Come to my house later! We'll play games. You too, Goten."
Blayze's eyes lit up. "Really?!"
Back with the adults
Rykon crossed his arms, a grin tugging at his lips.
"Well damn. He lost… but he surprised me."
Vegeta placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Cheer up. There's always next year."
Rykon's eyes narrowed slightly.
Enjoy the win, Vegeta. Because it's the only one you're getting against me.
Vegeta blinked. "Wait—what's that supposed to mean?!"
Rykon smirked. "Nothing, nothing…"
As the sun rose higher, the true tournament began.
Strange fighters.
Unfamiliar energies.
Rykon's heart thumped in his chest.
This tournament isn't going to be a cakewalk.
The announcer's voice echoed through the sky.
"LET THE WORLD TOURNAMENT BEGIN!"
To be continued…
POWER STONE!!!?
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