After a quick check by the referee, it was confird that Tien Shinhan was only unconscious—not dead.
Chi-Chi finally let out a sigh of relief.
With that, she officially advanced to the semifinals.
Tien ca to with a bitter expression and made his way back to the stands.
Master Roshi clapped him on the shoulder.
"You lost to soone who's had three years more training than you. Nothing to be ashad of.
Stick to your path. If you keep working hard, one day you'll catch up."
Tien nodded firmly.
"I understand. I won't give up. Thanks, Master Roshi."
Behind the arena, Piccolo gave Chi-Chi a sharp look, his eyes flashing with frustration.
'Dammit... That ended too fast. I didn't even get to see Goku's true power.
Tch. I'll just observe the next match.'
Soon, Son Goku and the masked fighter—none other than Yajirobe—stepped onto the stage.
From her seat, Bulma narrowed her eyes.
Even through the mask and cloak, that chubby silhouette was familiar.
Then, through the eye holes of the mask, she caught a glimpse of those eyes.
Her pupils shrank.
'That idiot... it's Yajirobe.'
She rembered him from the survival shelter in their previous tiline—
A lazy man with martial arts skill but zero initiative.
Instead of helping fight against Black Goku, he'd beco a food-hoarding freeloader.
Bulma let out a long sigh.
"Ugh. Him? Wasting my Senzu Beans on a guy like that…"
Right then, the referee announced the start of the match.
Bulma suddenly stood and cupped her hands around her mouth.
"Goku! Do us all a favor and beat that guy to a pulp!"
Goku blinked.
'Is she annoyed that Chi-Chi finished her match too fast?'
But he didn't have ti to dwell.
Yajirobe was already charging at him.
His fists ca flying, pudgy and relentless like a human machine gun.
Goku's figure blurred and danced away with ease, feet never touching the ground as he dodged every blow.
Step by step, Goku retreated under the barrage.
From the announcer's booth:
"Whoa! The masked fighter is incredible!
Look at those fists fly!
He's putting imnse pressure on Son Goku—no chance for counterattacks!
It's like watching a storm of punches! Fantastic!"
The audience held their breath.
"No way! Goku's as strong as Krillin, and he's getting pushed back?"
"Who is this masked guy? He's no joke!"
"Could he be part of so secret dojo?"
But while Goku was retreating, he was also analyzing.
He needed to gauge Yajirobe's strength—
To hit him just hard enough to hurt… but not to injure, knock out, or kill.
Just enough to sting.
So, after one of Yajirobe's aggressive combos, Goku finally struck back.
A flurry of fists exploded toward the masked fighter.
Smack! Bam! Pow!
Each punch landed clean. Each one hurt.
Behind the mask, Yajirobe's face contorted in pain.
To the crowd, it looked like Goku had held back until now, weathered the storm, and then launched a masterful counter.
"Amazing!"
"Goku's finally turning the tables!"
"Look at that combination! Perfect execution!"
"Master Roshi's students are on another level!"
After the exchange, the two fighters backed away.
Yajirobe panted heavily.
The announcer chid in:
"While the masked fighter put up a strong offense, Son Goku's veteran experience is showing!
This is his third World Martial Arts Tournant, and he's proving why fans expect great things from him!
After holding off that fierce assault, Goku launched a powerful counterattack!
Now, let's see how the masked fighter responds!"
Yajirobe was far stronger than the average fighter.
But ntally? He was soft.
He'd usually flee from powerful opponents if he could.
And now, after one round with Goku, he knew—he was outmatched.
Still, the crowd's cheers and the fact he hadn't been injured made him hesitate.
'If I just knock him off the stage, I win.
And even if I lose, this isn't a life-or-death fight…'
So Yajirobe rushed Goku again.
They traded another flurry of attacks, and Goku continued to carefully hold back.
Each round of sparring sharpened Goku's control.
He was beginning to master the art of balancing power—not too much, not too little.
Too much force? Hard to rein it in.
Too little? Ineffective.
And going all-out required charging or transformations—too slow to land.
What he needed was a clean strike, fast and precise.
True mastery wasn't raw strength—it was control.
He rembered sothing Vegeta would say in the future:
"Jiren's power wasn't that different from ours… it was his control that made the difference."
By the ti their match had gone several rounds, Yajirobe was gassed out.
Before the next clash could start, he raised his hand and surrendered.
Goku advanced to the semifinals.
Piccolo, who had been observing the whole ti, frowned deeply.
'That's Son Goku?
He took that long to beat that guy?
Tch… no, he's hiding his power. I couldn't get a read on him at all! Damn it!'
Next match.
"Now calling Krillin and the so-called 'Junior Demon King' to the stage!"
Piccolo flew to the ring. Krillin followed, calm and confident.
The audience buzzed with excitent.
"That guy can fly too?!"
"Must be a master martial artist!"
"Still, he's got no chance against last tournant's champion—Krillin-sama!"
"Krillin's been training under Master Roshi for three years. He's definitely gotten even stronger!"
Piccolo listened to the crowd's chatter with growing disdain.
"So… you're the reigning champion?"
Krillin smiled. "That's ."
Piccolo sneered. "Attack whenever you're ready, shrimp."
Krillin's brow twitched. "Shrimp, huh?
Well, if you lose to , that'll make you even smaller than a shrimp."
"Hmph. As if I'd ever lose to the likes of you."
Krillin motioned him forward.
"Enough talk. Let's see if you can take a single hit from ."
"Arrogant fool!"
Piccolo vanished—then reappeared mid-swing with a blinding hand chop.
But Krillin was gone.
"What?!"
A voice called out behind him.
"Over here."
Piccolo spun around, stunned.
He hadn't even seen Krillin move.
His face went pale. Sweat gathered at his brow.
'How is this possible?'
Before he could react, he was launched backward by an unseen force.
Thankfully, he managed to stop midair using Bukujutsu.
The crowd exploded:
"That was amazing!"
"Krillin-sama's speed is off the charts!"
"Did he just… teleport?!"
"That guy's not even in the sa league!"
"Only Goku and Chi-Chi could stand toe-to-toe with Krillin-sama now!"
Master Roshi bead at the praise.
My reputation's never been higher!
Before Piccolo could recover, Krillin was already on him.
A sweeping kick sent Piccolo flying again—
Only to be t mid-air by a second kick from Krillin.
He bounced like a pinball, unable to regain control.
Three hits. In seconds.
"How dare you treat like a joke!"
Piccolo roared and ripped off his turban and cloak, revealing his antennaed head.
The crowd gasped.
"Hey… doesn't he look familiar?"
"Isn't that… King Piccolo?!"
"I saw him in the papers! He looks younger though!"
The resemblance was undeniable.
Krillin frowned.
If this guy was related to King Piccolo, they needed to end this quickly.
Piccolo surged forward, now without his weighted gear.
His speed skyrocketed.
But Krillin was still dozens of levels above.
Before Piccolo's punch could land, Krillin caught it effortlessly.
Piccolo struggled—he couldn't move.
Then, his eyes lit up and he fired twin eye lasers.
Krillin casually tilted his head to avoid them.
The blast behind him shattered the stage tiles.
"Whoa!! That guy's no joke!"
Before the shock could fade, Krillin drove a punch straight into Piccolo's gut.
Crack!
Veins popped. Eyes bulged. Spit flew.
Then ca the spinning kick.
Piccolo was sent flying into the wall and slumped to the floor.
The referee rushed forward.
"Ten! Nine! Eight..."
"Piccolo Jr. is unable to stand! The winner is—Krillin!"
The audience went wild.
"That was aweso!"
"Krillin-sama's unstoppable!"
"Whoever said he looked like King Piccolo was clearly wrong!"
"He couldn't even touch Krillin-sama!"
"His eye laser shattered tiles, sure, but even if King Piccolo were alive today, I bet he couldn't beat Krillin-sama!"
"That's right! Krillin-sama is the GOAT!"
"You think… maybe it was Krillin-sama who defeated King Piccolo three years ago?"
"Gasp!"
Bulma nibbled on her snack, eyes wide.
'How did Krillin end up with this much clout?'
Goku scratched his head.
"Is it just , or is Krillin turning into the next Mr. Satan?"
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