Atop the Heavenly Palace, the air was so thin it felt almost solid.
This was the apex of Earth, a sacred realm where only a select few could set foot.
Yet today, the atmosphere carried the bitterness of parting and a touch of absurdity.
Popo's perpetually expressionless dark face was scrunched together, his features tightly bunched.
He wrung his hands anxiously, his round body swaying like a child about to be sent away.
"Lord Kami… are you really going?" His voice trembled.
"The Lower Realm is dangerous, and that Piccolo…"
Standing before him was an ordinary-looking middle-aged man.
He had a receding hairline, graying temples, and thick-framed glasses.
He wore a slightly cheap gray suit and looked like a tired salaryman returning home after overtime, perhaps still clutching discounted groceries.
This man was known as Mr. Shen.
And at this moment, Earth's Kami resided within him.
"I must go, Popo," Kami said through Mr. Shen's vocal cords. His tone sounded stiff and unfamiliar.
He raised a hand, attempting to move the borrowed body.
Crack.
His lower back popped loudly.
"Ouch…"
Kami immediately held his waist, wincing.
"This body truly is average quality. My back aches from the slightest movement, and my eyesight is terrible. Without these glasses, I'm practically blind."
He adjusted the slipping frames with a helpless smile.
Piccolo, the reincarnation of King Piccolo, was about to enter the World Martial Arts Tournament.
As Kami, he could not interfere directly in mortal affairs.
Even more importantly, he could not kill Piccolo, for they were two halves of the same being. If Piccolo died, so would he.
The only solution was to infiltrate the tournament in disguise and wait for an opportunity to use the Mafuba.
"But…" Popo's eyes filled with tears. "What if Lord Kami gets hurt? Popo would be very sad."
Kami stepped forward and awkwardly patted Popo's head.
The gesture felt natural in his true aged body, but with this salaryman appearance, it looked oddly comedic.
"Thank you for caring for me all these centuries, Popo," Kami said gently.
"I have watched humans be born, grow old, fall ill, and die for so long. I have grown a little tired. Consider this a small vacation.
I also wish to see with my own eyes how far that child Goku has grown."
His gaze turned distant, "And that little bald boy named Krillin…"
"Krillin?" Popo tilted his head. "The clever little short one?"
"Mhm."
Kami nodded, a faint crease forming between his brows.
"Recently, there has been a strange fluctuation in the Lower Realm. It is not evil, and I cannot sense its Qi intensity, but it feels… incongruous.
It comes from the direction of Kame House. It feels as though a tiny hole has appeared in the rules of the world there. I hope it is nothing dangerous."
After speaking, Kami straightened his tie, picked up a briefcase, and walked toward the edge of the Heavenly Palace.
The wind lifted his ill-fitting suit jacket, briefly revealing red underwear beneath.
"Well then, I'm off." He stepped forward into the air.
"Ah! Lord Kami! That body doesn't know Bukūjutsu!!" Popo screamed.
"Oh no—I forgot!!"
Kami's panicked voice echoed downward as he flailed wildly.
After a chaotic struggle, he barely managed to control a thin wisp of Qi and descended awkwardly, wobbling like a broken kite.
Popo lay at the edge of the palace, sniffling as he watched the shrinking figure.
"Please come back safely… and remember to eat on time…"
On the other side of the world, inside a dim underground tavern, the air was thick with tobacco smoke and alcohol.
"Barkeep! Another vodka! Make it strong!"
A burly man with a scarred face slammed his fist onto the table.
Three unconscious men lay at his feet.
The tavern door opened.
Jingle jingle.
The small bell sounded sharply in the heavy atmosphere.
The man who entered wore a pink robe with a large character for "Kill" emblazoned across the chest.
He wore sunglasses, and a long braid hung down his back.
Most striking of all, parts of his face and arms were cold metal.
Tao Pai Pai.
Once the world's number one assassin, now a half-mechanical cyborg.
The tavern fell silent.
The burly man squinted drunkenly.
"Hey, you dressed like a sissy, what are you staring at? This place is booked by me!"
Tao Pai Pai stopped.
His mechanical eye glowed faint red as it scanned the man.
"I am looking for a boat," he said flatly.
"A boat to Papaya Island."
"Hah? To watch monkeys fight?" the burly man sneered as he reached out to shove him. "Get lost."
His palm came within ten centimeters of Tao Pai Pai's chest.
Swish.
No one saw the movement.
The burly man's hand froze mid-air.
A thin red line appeared across his wrist.
Two seconds later, blood sprayed outward.
His severed hand dropped to the floor.
"Aaaaaah!!"
He screamed, clutching the stump as he rolled across the ground.
Tao Pai Pai had not even removed his hand from his sleeve.
From his mechanical wrist, a hidden blade retracted silently.
Not a single drop of blood touched him.
"Too noisy."
He raised his right hand.
The tip of his index finger opened, revealing a gun barrel aimed between the burly man's brows.
"D-don't kill me!"
"Tell me where the fastest boat is." Tao Pai Pai's voice remained cold.
"I am going to participate in the World Martial Arts Tournament. I have a score to settle with a certain brat."
Whenever he thought of Goku riding the Flying Nimbus and wielding the Power Pole, rage surged through his circuits.
For three years, he had spent every coin he had.
He had surrendered his dignity to a mad scientist, transforming into this half-human weapon.
The Super Dodon Ray.
That was the gift he had prepared for Goku and Krillin.
"The port! There's a speedboat at the port! I'll take you! Please don't kill me!"
Tao Pai Pai lowered his hand.
"Lead the way. If you are one second slow, I will cut off your other hand."
Outside, rain continued to fall.
Tao Pai Pai looked up at the gloomy sky, mechanical eye flashing crimson.
"Wash your necks clean, you brats. This time, I'll slice you into sashimi."
...
Author's Note:
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