White.
That was the first thing I saw.
A flat, blinding ceiling stretched overhead, fluorescent lights humming softly. The sharp smell of antiseptic filled my nose—strong enough to make my head throb. I tried to move—
—and immediately regretted it.
Pain flared through my entire body.
"Tch…"
Even with Reverse Cursed Technique, I'd pushed blood manipulation far too recklessly.
My throat was dry. My limbs felt unbearably heavy, as if all the power I'd wielded before had been completely drained. Turning my head slightly, I noticed thin tubes taped to my arm, steadily pumping blood back into my system.
I let out a slow breath and stared back at the ceiling.
…I lost.
At the very last moment of the match.
The curtain beside my bed shifted.
I tensed instinctively, cursed energy twitching—then relaxed when I saw it was just a nurse checking on me. She must have noticed I was awake. After checking the monitors, she gave a small nod and prepared to leave for her next patient.
Before she did, she handed me a folded cloth.
"Tien Shinhan came to see you yesterday," she said quietly. "You were unconscious, so he asked me to give this to you. He left some instructions as well."
…Yesterday?
So a full day had already passed.
"Did the tournament end?" I asked.
She shook her head. "The final match begins in half an hour."
Then she left.
She didn't even say who was fighting.
But I already knew.
Tien must've made it to the finals.
Even during our fight, I'd felt it—how much he'd been holding back.
The thought made me restless. Staying here was unbearable, but my body still needed time to recover. I could have forced RCT to accelerate things, but my cursed energy reserves were dangerously low.
My gaze drifted to the cloth in my hand.
Slowly, I unfolded it.
A single green bean rolled out onto the bedsheet.
Along with a note written in red ink.
"You pushed your body too far. Eat this. It will help with recovery."
"…A bean?"
I picked it up, turning it between my fingers, inspecting it closely—almost sniffing it.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" I muttered. "Is he mocking me…?"
But Tien didn't seem like that kind of person.
"…Whatever."
I tossed it into my mouth without thinking too much, chewed once or twice, and swallowed.
For a moment—
Nothing happened.
Then—
Energy exploded through my body.
Heat surged through my veins. The pain vanished instantly. The heaviness evaporated. My breathing steadied, as if I'd never been injured at all.
I clenched my fist.
Then unclenched it.
"…Unreal."
My body was fully restored—but my cursed energy was still recovering. The bean hadn't affected that at all.
I'll ask him about it later.
Right now, there was only one thing that mattered.
The final.
I jumped out of bed, threw on my clothes, and bolted toward the exit, causing immediate chaos among the staff.
Minutes later, I reached the arena, bought a black final-round viewing ticket, and officially went broke.
Worth it.
Soon enough, both fighters stepped onto the stage.
Tournament Finals — Goku vs. Piccolo
The bell rang.
Goku and Piccolo vanished.
A thunderous shockwave erupted as they collided mid-arena, locked in a raw stalemate from the very first moment, both pushing against each other with overwhelming force.
Goku tried to catch Piccolo off guard with a sudden right.
Piccolo stopped it cold—without shifting his stance.
Using his free arm, Piccolo swiped Goku's other hand aside, opening him up and throwing a right punch. Goku caught it, twisting his body to counter—
—but Piccolo slipped through the opening and fired a straight counter.
Goku dodged and answered with a kick.
Blocked.
They continued exchanging blows, neither landing clean hits—both impossibly composed, defensively flawless.
Piccolo shifted gears.
He reversed his rhythm, opening with a cross to load his left shoulder before snapping out a heavy power jab.
Goku remained calm. He blocked the cross on the inside, leaned back just enough to stay outside the jab's range, and launched a hook kick straight toward Piccolo's face.
Piccolo pulled back his right arm to block, then surged forward, closing the distance with a rising knee while simultaneously guarding against the incoming punch.
He blocked both attacks at once.
Then fired back with a reverse one-two.
Once again, they collided—neither yielding as they struggled for control.
Goku snapped out a fast right punch.
Piccolo caught it with the same hand he'd been using to frame, leaving Goku wide open.
Piccolo answered with a brutal right uppercut.
It connected.
Goku was launched backward.
He flipped midair and landed cleanly—but Piccolo was already there, locked on from behind.
Goku had anticipated it.
He launched a back kick, smashing Piccolo under the chin and forcing him back.
They clashed again.
Light-speed.
Flickering in and out of range, exchanging blows faster than the eye could track.
Piccolo suddenly appeared at a distance.
His arm stretched—shooting forward toward Goku.
Goku slipped to the side, let it pass, grabbed the extended arm with both hands, and swung it upward.
Piccolo was hurled into the air.
As he stabilized himself—
A shockwave punch struck him.
Just for a millisecond.
Enough.
Goku leapt after him, accelerating to capitalize—
—but Piccolo smiled.
He straightened.
A trap.
He had oversold the stun, baiting Goku into lowering his guard.
Piccolo countered.
A massive ki blast erupted from his hands.
It struck Goku mid-fall.
Then another.
And another.
Goku slammed into the floor, bounced hard—
—and Piccolo didn't stop.
A relentless barrage of ki attacks rained down, lighting up the entire arena as the stage trembled violently under the onslaught.
Smoke. Fire. Ruin.
Goku lay motionless.
Piccolo descended slowly.
The announcer's voice rang out.
"One…Two…Three…Four…Five…"
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well that's it for today's chapter it bit short, but it's 2:00 at night
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