"I already understand your level of strength!" Tien Shinhan said confidently. His three eyes gleamed with sharp insight as he folded his arms across his chest, standing tall like a pine tree.
"Just as I guessed—your speed hasn't changed much compared to three years ago! That won't be enough! Your eyes may be able to follow my movements, but your body can't keep up!"
"You're really amazing," Son Goku replied with a smile. He casually wiped the corner of his forehead—even though there wasn't any sweat there—and sincerely praised him.
"I didn't expect you to reach this level of speed."
In the audience, Master Roshi adjusted the sunglasses that kept slipping down his nose. His wrinkled face showed complicated emotions.
Then he subconsciously rubbed his bald head and let out a quiet sigh.
"These two… still think it's not fast enough?" Roshi muttered, his voice filled with the melancholy of passing time.
Ah… the era of Master Mutaito was much simpler…
Nearby, Bulma, dressed in an elegant dress, quietly wiped the fine sweat forming on her smooth forehead with a delicate handkerchief.
The exchange just now had been so fast that it was almost impossible to follow with the naked eye, making her heart race with tension.
"They were moving so fast just now… I couldn't see anything at all," Bulma said softly, her voice filled with amazement and lingering shock.
Roshi shook his head with a bitter smile.
"If even I can barely see it now, how could you?"
"You can barely see it too?" Bulma tilted her head slightly, surprise flashing through her beautiful blue eyes.
She knew very well how powerful Master Roshi was. If even he struggled to keep up—
Just how terrifying was the speed in the arena?
"Well, the way you're dressed today is so conservative, of course you can't see anything," Roshi replied instinctively.
His gaze unconsciously drifted across Bulma's rather modest dress, his tone filled with habitual and poorly timed regret.
"See what?" Broly, who was sitting nearby eating potato chips with loud crunching sounds, looked up when he heard them.
His handsome face showed pure confusion as he spoke with a mouth half full of chips.
His clear eyes blinked, clearly not understanding the double meaning in Roshi's words.
Bulma: "..."
Bulma's pretty face instantly darkened.
She shot Roshi a fierce glare before glancing helplessly at the innocent-looking Broly and grinding her teeth in frustration.
Broly, can you not get involved right now?
She screamed silently in her heart, feeling the pleasant atmosphere of watching the match completely ruined by these two.
Meanwhile, on the arena stage, Goku seemed to have made a decision.
He waved to Tien with his usual cheerful smile.
"Tien, wait a moment. I'm going to take off a piece of clothing."
"Your clothes?" Tien blinked in confusion, all three eyes showing puzzlement. Still, he nodded readily.
"Well… it is pretty hot today."
He glanced up at the blazing sun in the sky and found the explanation reasonable.
"Looks like you've trained really hard too," Goku said as he struggled slightly while pulling off his blue T-shirt.
The movement didn't look like someone removing a normal shirt.
It looked more like he was removing something heavy that had been restraining him.
"Of course," Tien replied calmly, his tone steady but full of determination.
"No matter what, I had to surpass Broly, the guy who refuses to train. For that, I worked extremely hard."
As he spoke, the eye in the center of his forehead subconsciously turned toward the audience, glancing in the direction where Broly sat casually eating chips.
There was a hint of comparison in his gaze.
Meanwhile, the Broly being discussed seemed completely unconcerned. He continued crunching his chips happily, looking relaxed and carefree.
"Goku trained under some great master, yet this is all he achieved?" Launch tilted her head slightly and asked in confusion.
"I can't really understand the fight, but it seems like Tien is suppressing him."
"Not great master—Kami," Bulma immediately corrected.
"A great master? …The Grand Priest?" Broly suddenly muttered quietly.
At that moment, something seemed to trigger a memory.
Broly stopped chewing.
His brow slowly furrowed, as if he were trying hard to recall something.
Then something surprising happened.
Broly suddenly froze.
The chip in his hand remained suspended near his mouth.
His clear, normally relaxed eyes widened as the focus in his pupils faded, and his entire body stiffened like a statue.
It looked as if Broly's mind had suddenly frozen—like a system crash—every thought stopping at once.
"Broly? What's wrong? Are you feeling sick? Do you want some water?" Launch was the first to notice something was wrong and leaned closer with concern.
Seeing Broly's distant expression, her face filled with worry.
"Don't talk…" Broly muttered in a very low voice, as if slowly returning from deep thought.
"I think… I suddenly remembered something very important."
There was rare confusion and seriousness in his voice.
"Something important?" Launch looked even more puzzled.
What kind of thing could make the usually carefree Broly show such an expression?
"You probably just remembered some strange new food again," Roshi said with a roll of his eyes after noticing the commotion.
Broly ignored the teasing.
He slowly lowered the chip in his hand and suddenly turned toward Roshi with a serious expression.
"Old man… who is the Grand Priest?"
His tone was unusually solemn—completely different from his usual lazy demeanor.
"The Grand Priest?" Roshi repeated the name, stunned.
His wrinkled face filled with confusion as he searched through his memories but found nothing.
"I've never heard of that person."
"You've never heard of him?" Broly pressed again, his eyes fixed on Roshi with urgency.
Roshi shook his head firmly once more.
In all his long life, he had never encountered that name.
Broly immediately turned toward Bulma, who was known for having wide knowledge.
"Bulma, you know a lot of people. Have you ever heard of someone called the Grand Priest?"
There was a faint trace of urgency in Broly's voice.
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