"What is your real purpose for coming to Earth?" Son Goku's eyes narrowed as he studied Coola. A faint but undeniable sense of danger emanated from the being, a clear indication that his strength was, at the very least, on par with Goku's own.
Coola's polite smile never faltered. "My purpose? Nothing overly complex. You destroyed the planet I was sleeping on. It seemed only fair to return the favor and destroy yours. However…" He paused, gesturing vaguely to the world outside the hall. "Upon arrival, I found Earth to be rather… charming. I've since revised my plan. I think I shall claim it as my new dominion instead."
"What are you babbling about? Invade Earth? Are you an idiot, or just brain-dead? Don't you know my boss is standing right here?!" Out of nowhere, Brute shoved his way forward, the ever-present Strategist at his side. He looked Coola up and down with undisguised contempt.
"Yeah, seriously," the Strategist chimed in, his tone a masterclass in provocation. "Look at you—so broke you can't even afford proper clothes. Wrapping yourself in fish scales like it's high fashion. You look like a complete moron."
For the first time, Coola's serene smile flickered. It remained fixed on his face, but the temperature in the immediate vicinity plunged several degrees. A wave of palpable, killing intent washed over the two Minotaurs.
"Whoa, boss! Why is it so cold all of a sudden?" The Strategist shivered violently, clutching his thin coat.
"Holy crap, that's killer intent! He's the real deal—BOSS!" Brute, far more perceptive to danger, instantly pinpointed the source of the psychic frost. He yelped and dove behind Goku, using the Saiyan as a human shield.
Goku ignored the buffoons, his full attention locked on Coola. He was stunned. The burst of ki Coola had just leaked for that split second was staggering—far surpassing the power of Frieza or King Cold. There was no comparison.
As quickly as it came, the frigid aura vanished. Coola's smile returned, though it seemed a fraction colder as he addressed Goku. "Are these two your subordinates? You might want to keep them on a shorter leash. They seem like the type to invite… unfortunate accidents." He gave a slight, dismissive nod. "Well then. I shall see you in the tournament. I look forward to testing the famed 'Super Saiyan' for myself." With that, Coola brushed past them and melted into the crowd of other fighters.
"Goku… that guy was on another level. Why do these maniacs keep popping up? I think I'm starting to regret entering this thing," Krillin muttered, wiping a bead of cold sweat from his brow after Coola was gone. He was struck by the sudden, dizzying realization that he and Goku now inhabited fundamentally different worlds of power.
"Don't worry about it. If you draw him, just forfeit. You can still aim for fourth or fifth place," Goku replied casually.
"Then I'll gun for third!" Brute declared, puffing out his chest.
"Wait, you're entering too?" Yamcha asked, eyeing Brute before pointing a thumb at the scrawny Strategist. "What about him?"
"I am the cerebral asset, not the blunt instrument. I shall not be participating in physical combat. Thank you for your concern," the Strategist stated, straightening his posture with solemn dignity.
"Good," Krillin, Yamcha, and the others breathed a collective sigh of relief. They had, to their chagrin, assessed that they likely couldn't beat even this weird, sleazy Minotaur. The humbling thought stung, fueling a renewed desire to train harder.
Tap.
A light tap on his shoulder made Goku turn. His eyes immediately lit up with recognition.
"Hey, Son Goku!" A girl dressed in dark martial arts attire stood there, a bright, hopeful smile on her face.
"Huh?!" Yamcha, Krillin, and the others gaped at her, then swiveled their heads to stare at Goku. "Don't tell us she's another one of your—"
"Uh… you're…" Goku looked her up and down, his smile widening. "Chi-Chi? Is that really you?"
"Eeee! You do remember me! That makes me so happy!" Chi-Chi clasped her hands together, beaming with joy, before a deep blush crept up her cheeks. She looked down, suddenly shy. "So… do you, um, remember what you promised?"
"You mean about marrying you when we grew up?" Goku finished for her, his grin turning playful.
"You do remember!" Chi-Chi's blush deepened. "So… what do you think?"
"If you're still okay with it, then let's get married." A lovely girl was delivering herself to his doorstep. Who was he to refuse?
"WHAT?! MARRIED?!" Krillin and the others shrieked in unison, their faces twisting with envy. Krillin lunged forward, grabbing fistfuls of Goku's gi and shaking him. "Why do women just throw themselves at you?! You've already got a houseful of wives! What about us poor, lonely bachelors, you absolute monster!"
"What?" Chi-Chi's smile vanished, replaced by a stormy expression. "He already has a wife?"
"Yep," Yamcha chimed in, unable to resist a petty jab fueled by his own jealousy. "More than one, actually."
Chi-Chi's face darkened completely. She glared at Goku, her eyes shimmering with hurt and anger. "JERK!" she yelled, then spun on her heel and stormed away into the crowd.
"Yamcha! Damn it, you did that on purpose!" Goku shot his friend an annoyed glare.
"Me? I was just stating facts!" Yamcha protested, holding up his hands in mock innocence while shaking his head.
Nearby, Tien Shinhan leaned in and whispered to Chiaotzu, who was holding their lot numbers. "Chiaotzu, when they call for the draw, use your telekinesis. Scramble the numbers. Make absolutely sure none of us end up facing that guy in the prelims."
A gong sounded, and an announcer's voice boomed through the hall. "Preliminary round one! The rules are clear: you lose if you are knocked from the ring, rendered unconscious, or surrender. Killing your opponent results in disqualification. Fighters number one and two, please step onto the platform!"
Goku glanced at the slip in his hand. A large, bold number '1' was printed on it. He chuckled. "My turn already? I thought the top seeds usually fought later." With a casual shrug, he strolled toward the raised fighting stage.