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With a full stomach and a spirit brimming with energy, Kaiju wiped his mouth with a napkin, took Tohka's hand, and again brought two fingers to his forehead.
¡POP!
The deafening roar of the West Capital was instantly replaced by a completely different atmosphere. The air smelled of sea salt, incense, and the sweat of thousands of people. They had landed in a narrow alley, in the shadow of a massive stone wall.
As they left the alley, the tropical sun of Papaya Island greeted them suddenly.
Before them lay a vast festival. There were food stalls, colorful flags waving in the wind, Buddhist monks, martial artists of all shapes and sizes, and anthropomorphic creatures wandering among the crowd. At the center of it all, rising in imposing majesty, was the arena for the 23rd World Martial Arts Tournament.
Tohka, who was still chewing on a last piece of glazed pork she had brought from the restaurant, looked around with analytical curiosity.
—The concentration of individuals with above-average Ki levels is remarkably high in this quadrant. Is this a ritualistic battlefield, Kaiju?
"This is the battlefield, Tohka. The biggest event on this planet," Kaiju replied, walking purposefully through the crowd, dodging a couple of giant fighters who were showing off their muscles.
Kaiju ignored the festival's commotion, the games, and the souvenir shops. His sole focus was the enormous wooden notice board where the preliminary match schedules were being posted.
He pushed his way through the crowd and stood before the table. His eye scanned the names quickly, his writer's and fan's mind reviewing the original plot.
"There it is," he thought, his gaze lingering on a specific name: Ma Junior. Piccolo.
Kaiju sighed. He knew perfectly well that he couldn't face Goku in the final rounds. The battle between Goku and Piccolo wasn't just a crucial canonical event; it defined Earth's safety in this universe. If he intervened and defeated Piccolo, or if he exhausted Goku before the final, he could doom this world. He was just a tourist; he had no right to ruin the main storyline.
"If I can't fight him on the main stage... I'll do it behind closed doors," he decided.
He tracked down Son Goku's name in the elimination bracket. According to the chart, the Earth's hero's first match was against someone called "Fighter 84," a name that wasn't even in the memory of most otaku like Kaiju. He was a glorified extra. Canonical cannon fodder.
"Tohka, stay here for a second," Kaiju murmured, his eyes gleaming with Machiavellian cunning.
He slipped away toward the participants' locker room area, completely concealing his Ki. He walked through the stone corridors until he found the infamous Fighter 84. He was a huge guy, nearly two meters tall, with a mohawk and scars on his arms, who was punching the wall to warm up.
Kaiju appeared behind him without making the slightest noise.
—Hey, big guy.
The man turned, frowning at the sight of a short teenager with a scar over his eye. "What do you want, runt? Did you get lost on your way to kindergarten?"
"I'm sorry, buddy. But I need your place in history," Kaiju said.
Before the giant could process the words, Kaiju raised his hand and, with a movement so swift it broke the local sound barrier, delivered a precise blow to the back of his neck. The enormous fighter's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Kaiju removed the small wooden badge with the number 84 that hung from the man's belt and attached it to his own. He dragged the man to a cleaning closet, carefully locked him inside, and returned to the main hallway whistling a carefree tune.
...
Minutes later, inside the immense enclosed pavilion where the preliminaries would take place away from the public eye, the atmosphere was tense. Dozens of martial artists were warming up on the numerous tatami mats distributed throughout the hall.
—"Match number one, on Tatami D!" shouted a monk referee with a clipboard. "Son Goku versus participant number 84!"
Kaiju took a deep breath. His heart began to beat wildly, but not from fear.
He walked toward the square tatami mat, climbing the small wooden steps, and stood in his corner. Facing him, climbing up the opposite corner, appeared the living legend.
He was taller than Kaiju remembered from the early manga. He wore his signature orange gi, plain and without any symbols on the chest or back, heavy dark blue boots, blue wristbands, and a matching blue undershirt. His black hair defied gravity, and his face, though youthful and innocent-looking, radiated absolute calm and confidence.
It was Son Goku. He had just returned from his three-year training at Kami-sama's Temple.
Kaiju froze.
"Damn... it's him. It's really him," Kaiju's inner voice screamed, his otaku side completely collapsing. "It's Son Goku! He's ten meters away from me! Look at that pose! Look at that expression! Damn it, I want to ask him for an autograph! I want to ask him to sign my forehead and take a picture with him!"
Goku stood in his corner and gave him a friendly, completely relaxed smile, and raised a hand in greeting.
—Hi! You're very young to be in this tournament, aren't you? I hope we have a good fight!
Kaiju had to bite the inside of his cheek so hard he almost drew blood, just to keep from letting out a fanatical squeal and leaping into his arms. He forced himself to maintain a cold, hard, and mysterious expression, the mask of a stoic warrior.
"I agree... Goku," Kaiju managed to articulate in a voice that tried to sound deep, though it trembled slightly with pure emotion.
In the upper stands of the arena, Tohka watched the scene unfold. Her eyes focused on Kaiju, analyzing his biometrics from a distance.
"Mental note number 9501," Tohka murmured, genuinely bewildered. "The Creator's heart rate has increased by four hundred percent. His pupils are fully dilated, and he's exhibiting micro-tremors in his upper limbs. Is he experiencing absolute terror in the presence of this human with a structurally impossible hairstyle?"
Tohka narrowed her eyes and her hand instinctively rested on the empty space where Sandalphon resided.
—If that individual harms Kaiju, I will have to intervene and annihilate him.
Down on the tatami, oblivious to the fact that his AI was about to declare holy war over a medical misunderstanding, Kaiju finally managed to steady his breathing. He clenched his fist. He could feel the immense, vast, and tranquil ocean of Ki emanating from Goku. It was like standing before an immovable mountain.
"Alright. No magic eyes. No divine tricks," Kaiju promised himself, adopting the Turtle School fighting stance. "Only martial arts. Let's see how far this stupid fanboy can go against the greatest hero in the universe."
The referee monk lowered his arm abruptly.
—Begin!
For a full second, which to the eyes of normal spectators seemed like an eternity, neither of them moved. The silence in Tatami D was sepulchral.
Goku stood with his arms relaxed at his sides and a calm smile on his face, his Saiyan instincts analyzing the teenager before him. Kaiju, for his part, maintained the classic Turtle School stance, his one good eye fixed on his idol's every move. His heart was still racing, but his mind—tempered by Yardrat and King Kai's Planet—was perfectly calm.
"He weighs around 100 kilos in those training clothes," Kaiju calculated in a fraction of a second. "But his mastery of Ki masks the effort. If I let my guard down, he'll knock me off the platform in one blow."
A drop of sweat slid down the referee's forehead, falling to the wooden floor.
The moment the drop touched the tatami, the sound itself ceased to exist.
¡BAM!
An explosive shockwave erupted in the center of the ring, raising a cloud of dust and splinters. The monk referee was sent flying backward with a scream of terror, rolling across the floor until he crashed into a concrete wall.
Several meters away, on the adjacent tatami mats, other fighters abruptly stopped their matches. Krillin, who was about to knock out an opponent, turned his head, his eyes wide. Yamcha and Tien Shinhan, waiting their turn near the stands, felt the air grow heavy and thick.
"What the hell is that Ki?!" exclaimed Ten Shin Han, his third eye opening in disbelief as he stared towards Tatami D.
There, in the center of the arena, Goku and Kaiju had collided.
They weren't moving at the speed of light, but to any normal human in the room, they had simply vanished. The sounds of the impacts echoed like dry thunder off the pavilion's ceiling: CRACK! BAM! CRASH! In midair, three meters above the mat, Kaiju's right forearm slammed brutally into Goku's left shin. The impact generated a blast of cutting wind.
Goku opened his eyes slightly, surprised. His kick had enough force to split a steel pillar in two, but the arm of that boy, thinner and shorter than him, hadn't even trembled. It felt like hitting a mountain of solid titanium.
"It's really tough!" thought Goku, a wild grin spreading across his face.
Using Kaiju's arm as a point of support, Goku spun in the air and threw an inverted punch with his right hand straight at the boy's face.
Kaiju saw it coming. His muscle memory, forged in 10x gravity, reacted on its own. He ducked in mid-air, letting Goku's fist graze his black hair, and countered with an upward hook aimed at the Saiyan's abdomen.
Goku blocked by crossing his arms in front of his stomach just in time. The impact resonated like a church bell. The force of Kaiju's blow propelled him upward, but Goku used the momentum to perform a backflip, landing gracefully on the wooden tiles of the tatami.
Before Goku could even regain his balance, Kaiju was already there. He had mastered speed. He didn't use Yardratian teleportation, nor the telekinetic flight of his eyes; he simply channeled his Ki into the soles of his feet and propelled himself forward with the sheer brute force of his muscles.
—¡Tatata-ta-ta!
A barrage of hypersonic blows engulfed Goku. Kaiju threw punches, low kicks, knee strikes, and elbow strikes with astonishing fluidity. He was using the mixed style he had learned from Master Roshi, combined with the absolute survival reflexes he honed while fleeing from dinosaurs.
Goku retreated step by step, his hands moving like blurs as he deflected, blocked, and dodged the brutal offensive.
Block! Deflect! Dodge!
Each clash of limbs made the entire platform tremble. The wooden tiles beneath them began to crack and fly into the air.
"Wow, you're incredible!" Goku exclaimed amidst the exchange of blows, his black eyes gleaming with pure martial excitement. "Your attacks are super heavy! I thought the only strong ones here would be Piccolo and my friends!"
Kaiju stifled a laugh of pure ecstasy. He was exchanging blows hand-to-hand with the god of his childhood, and he was keeping up without using magic. His body, bathed in the thick sweat of physical exertion, felt alive in a way he had never experienced in his previous life.
"You're not doing too badly either, Goku!" Kaiju replied, letting himself be carried away by the adrenaline.
In a swift movement, Kaiju feinted a right hook to Goku's face. Goku raised his guard, but Kaiju spun around, lowering his center of gravity, and launched a sweeping attack at the Saiyan's legs.
Goku, anticipating the move by pure instinct, jumped just in time. From midair, he brought both fists together and dove, attempting to deliver a hammer blow directly onto Kaiju's head.
The fourteen-year-old raised his arms in an "X" shape, crossing them over his head to receive the impact.
¡BOOOOOOM!
The impact was devastating. The entire tatami split in two. The concrete floor beneath the wood gave way, creating a perfect crater five meters in diameter with Kaiju at its center. His boots sank into the broken stone up to his ankles, but his crossed arms remained firm, supporting the weight of Goku's 100 kilograms of training gear plus the immense force of the impact.
From high in the stands, Tohka observed the scene, floating silently. Her amethyst eyes glowed as she processed her Creator's biometric data.
"Mental note number 9502," she whispered, a small, almost imperceptible warm smile playing on her lips. "The Creator's dopamine and serotonin levels have just reached statistically impossible levels. There's no trace left of the stress or paranoia of the past few years. He... is genuinely enjoying himself."
At the bottom of the crater, Goku pushed off and jumped back, landing on one of the few remaining intact pieces of tatami matting, breathing a little more heavily.
Kaiju pulled his feet out of the rubble and shook his arms, which throbbed with pain, but his face showed no discomfort. There was only a huge, sincere smile of satisfaction that crinkled the scar over his right eye.
Silence returned to the arena, but this time, none of the background fighters dared to resume their own matches. All eyes were fixed on Tatami D.
Goku stretched his neck, making his vertebrae crack, and looked at Kaiju with an expression that mixed joy and seriousness.
"Hehe, what a surprise. You're really strong, number 84," Goku said, assuming his fighting stance again, but this time lowering his center of gravity a little more and tensing his leg muscles. "I think that's enough warming up, don't you think? I'm going to pick up the pace a bit."
Kaiju brought his fists to his chest, smiling as his Ki began to emanate from his body in the form of a white and transparent aura, illuminating his sweaty skin.
"Please, do it," Kaiju replied, his fanboy side finally merging with his warrior instinct. "Show me what you're made of, Son Goku. Because I'm just getting started."