"King!"
"Insolent human! How dare you look down on me—Piccolo Daimao!"
Upon hearing the Goku's words, Piccolo Daimao's eyes grew so bloodshot with rage that they seemed on the verge of bursting.
He—the mighty Piccolo Daimao—had actually been belittled by a mere human today. How could a being of such immense arrogance possibly tolerate such an insult?
Thus, he immediately soared into the air, gathering every ounce of Ki within his body to unleash his ultimate technique:
"Explosive Demon Wave!"
A terrifying surge of energy blasted forth from Piccolo Daimao's right hand.
Had it struck its target, let alone the martial artists gathered in the arena, the entire Papaya Island itself would have been wiped clean from the map.
"Hah!"
Goku opened his mouth wide, unleashing a powerful energy blast of his own that surged upward to meet the attack, completely neutralizing the terrifying assault descending from the heavens.
"An attack like that can't even scratch me. Are you even fighting at full power?"
With a sudden flicker of movement, he instantly appeared directly behind Piccolo Daimao.
"If this is truly the extent of your strength, then I won't hold back any longer."
He delivered a fierce downward kick that slammed violently into Piccolo Daimao's back.
The Demon King's eyes bulged from their sockets, and his body twisted and contorted until he was nearly folded in half, before he was sent rocketing toward the ground like a cannonball.
Boom!
The original tournament ring was obliterated, leaving behind a massive, human-shaped crater. Piccolo Daimao's body lay embedded deep within the earth—critically wounded and teetering on the brink of death.
One strike—with just a single blow—Goku had completely taken down the terrifying Piccolo Daimao. It was only at this moment that a realization dawned upon Goku.
It turned out that Piccolo Daimao hadn't been holding back his power; he really was just that weak.
No—or perhaps, after three years of rigorous training across various worlds, he had simply grown too fast and become far too strong.
Or could it be that Piccolo Daimao had been sealed away for so long that his power had regressed significantly?
"Did he... win?"
At that moment, Master Roshi and the others could only blink in astonishment, their faces etched with expressions of utter disbelief.
To think that the terrifying Great Demon King Piccolo could be taken down so easily—with just a single blow from Goku! Just how terrifying has Goku's power truly become?
Perhaps Great Demon King Piccolo's power had waned significantly after being sealed away for three hundred years.
Yet, even in his current state, his power was still absolutely beyond their ability to handle.
They couldn't even cope with the mere fumes he had exhaled moments earlier.
The disparity in their power was glaringly obvious.
Thus, they realized: it wasn't that Great Demon King Piccolo was too weak, but rather that Goku was simply too strong—so strong, in fact, that he existed on a completely different level than they did.
At that moment, the Crane Hermit—who had previously been locked in a standoff with the Turtle Hermit—didn't utter a single word; he simply activated his Sky Dancing Technique and fled without ever looking back.
Are you kidding? If even Great Demon King Piccolo could be instantly annihilated by that kid with a single move, what business did he have staying here? Was he looking for a death wish?
As for exacting revenge? Well, perhaps that particular grudge was best left unsettled.
Time heals all wounds; compared to avenging his younger brother, Mercenary Tao, his own precious life was far more important.
"Cough... cough... To think that I, of all beings, would actually lose to a mere human! Had I not been sealed away for three hundred years—causing my power to regress so drastically—how could I possibly have ever lost to the likes of you?"
Possessing an immense life force, the Great Demon King Piccolo struggled to crawl his way out of the human-shaped crater he had created upon impact. As he looked up at Goku—who had just landed right in front of him—he spoke with a tone dripping with bitter resentment.
"So, it really was because of the seal?"
A sudden realization dawned upon Goku. It seemed the Great Demon King Piccolo wasn't inherently weak; his diminished power was indeed a direct consequence of having been sealed away.
"If only I could use the Dragon Balls to summon Shenron and restore my youth... then a pathetic specimen like you wouldn't stand a chance against me."
"If you use the Dragon Balls to restore your youth, will you be able to—
—regain your peak power?"
Goku's eyes instantly lit up.
He possessed the Dragon Balls; all he had to do was summon the Eternal Dragon and make a wish to restore King Piccolo to his peak fighting strength—and then, they could have a proper battle after all.
The prospect was truly tempting to him.
Master Roshi, who knew Goku well, saw his reaction and immediately guessed what was on his mind; he hurriedly stepped forward and said:
"Goku, we cannot gamble with the safety of the entire world. Let me be the one to finish him off!"
"Hmm... alright."
Goku hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
Having traveled through so many different worlds, he understood the true meaning of the adage: "There is always a higher sky, and there are always people stronger than oneself."
Given his current strength, if he were to encounter true powerhouses—figures like Odin or the Ancient One—even if he unleashed every trump card in his arsenal, he still wouldn't stand a chance.
Therefore, he couldn't simply act on a whim—stubbornly insisting on a fight—just because he harbored a desire to battle King Piccolo at the peak of his power.
To the death.
Although he genuinely wanted to do so—even if it meant getting beaten—
Through his travels across various worlds, Goku's personality had been influenced by many different people, and he had undergone some subtle changes.
"Um... let me ask you something: how much stronger were you at your peak compared to how you are now?"
Finally, just before the Turtle Hermit made his move, Goku—driven by curiosity—decided to ask.
King Piccolo wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and replied with a haughty air:
"At least one-third stronger than I am right now!"
One-third stronger—what did that even mean?
It meant that if his current self were to fight his peak self, his peak self wouldn't even need to lift a finger; his current self wouldn't even be able to breach his defenses.
Goku blinked in surprise at the reply, then blinked again and fell silent.
Only one-third stronger? Wasn't that still just a total pushover?
He would need to be at least a hundred times stronger to pose any real challenge—to be worthy of a full-throttle battle.
Being merely one-third stronger meant he still wouldn't be able to withstand a single kick from Goku.
It seemed he had simply been overthinking things.
"King Piccolo, it's time to send you on your way!"
The Turtle Hermit stepped up to the severely wounded King Piccolo, intending to finish him off once and for all.
After all, King Piccolo was a being who had once nearly destroyed the entire world—and that fact remained true, even now that he was completely powerless to resist. Nor would he simply let the opposing forces off the hook, allowing them to turn over a new leaf and redeem themselves.
For that was an impossibility.
Only by utterly destroying King Piccolo could the world truly find its best possible outcome.
"Wait!"
Just then, King Piccolo interrupted the Turtle Hermit.
"I know you won't spare me. But tell me—would you, you human martial artists who pride yourselves on your sense of justice—kill an infant?"
As he spoke, a sinister smile spread across his face; with a sudden heave, he spat an egg from his mouth.
"Hahaha! My child... you will surely avenge your father one day!"
His laughter died away as his body crashed violently to the ground, his life force completely extinguished.
As it turned out, King Piccolo had known his death was inevitable; thus, he had transferred his entire life force and all his memories into the body of his newborn offspring.
Unlike the demonic warriors he had created in the past—beings that emerged fully formed—this creation was a true extension of his own life.
Though it would no longer be him, having inherited his memories, the child would undoubtedly seek vengeance on his behalf in the future.
In this way, the Demon Clan would not be completely wiped out along with him.
Moreover, he understood these human martial artists all too well;
he knew there was a high probability they would not bring themselves to kill his child.
Crack!
The very instant King Piccolo's life force vanished completely, the egg he had spat onto the ground cracked open, revealing a small green figure nestled within.
It was a tiny infant, curled into a tight ball—still fast asleep and yet to awaken.
At first glance, it actually looked rather cute.
Upon seeing this, the onlookers exchanged bewildered glances.