(Tater POV)
"Hmph." I snorted to myself as Tarble unsteadily walked off of the stage after being declared the winner of his match, unimpressed.
While that old man was definitely the strongest human I'd ever seen in my four years of wandering, by far, I still didn't understand Tarble's decision to waste so much energy playing with his food. It was disgraceful for someone as strong as him to allow themselves to be injured by someone who, by my estimate, was only around as strong as the woman who'd once left Planet Vegeta with our team.
The intensity of the battle that Tarble had just had in that arena reminded me of that battle back them. At the time, I'd honestly believed that I was watching two clashing gods, or something.
What a fool I had been.
While my last few years of travel had taught me a bit about the importance of human technique, nothing beat the overwhelming might of a true Saiyan warrior. Pretending otherwise was a joke that was in rather poor taste.
As strong as that old man had been for an earthling, any Saiyan from Planet Vegeta would have destroyed him instantly, without even allowing him to fight.
Instead, Tarble had lowered himself to his enemy's level, and now would likely be at less than 100% for my own battle with him in the next round, the semifinals that would happen two battles from now.
Just to show respect to a dying old man. Pathetic.
The only person in this entire tournament who deserved any thought at all, other than Tarble and I, was the young Saiyan in the orange gi. He had a strong will and a Saiyan body. One day, he may go far.
When I met him in the finals, I'd deign to show him a thing or two. Maybe force him past his limits as a gift.
For now, though, I needed to finish my own farce of a quarterfinal battle.
…
(Tarble POV)
I let my SSJP form drop as I sat down to take a breather. My body still hurt a bit, having trouble rebounding from the electricity from Roshi's electricity ability that I still didn't understand the theory behind.
In my mind, I wondered idly if he'd developed that technique specifically for use on Saiyans, via testing on Kakarot… maybe even the boy's Oozaru form. It did far more damage to me than I'd expected it to, given my physiology.
I'd taken electric shocks before. This was a lot worse than any of those.
Sitting down on the ground in the finalist waiting area, I had a perfect view of Tater's back as he strode up to the arena, shooting me a snobby little glare as he walked up the steps to the stage.
His opponent was a boxer. Big, bald, and wearing a rug… No, that was his back hair.
Still, for a human, he must've been at least fairly skilled to actually manage to make it this far The guy probably dedicated his entire life to his craft. Even though that wasn't enough to get him to the real finals, he deserved to be taken seriously at the least.
It was a shame that he was going up against Tater. Tater was staring a hole into the boxer's face, but I could tell that he wasn't actually looking at the guy.
He was looking at his next conquest. Like my brother, my former teammate's head was filled with nothing but a massive superiority complex boosting his power at the expense of real strength.
And sure enough, as soon as the announcer said that they could begin, Tater made his move.
With a wave of his hand, the boxer flew from the stage like he'd been hit with a tank. Was he going to end up hurt? Probably, but Tater didn't care.
My eyes found his acquaintance in the crowd, the beautiful, tanned woman.
I couldn't help but wonder what my old teammate thought of her. Was she just a possession, or did he actually care for her?
I'd find out after my battle with him.
In the heat of a real, all-out fight, everything always became clear.
Even if only one side was actually going all out.
Even the young Kakarot understood that concept well, as I watched from his semi-finals battle.
…
It went a little something like this.
"A child like you, no matter how impressive, will never defeat me! For, I am the Kick King!" Huh. I was pretty sure that this guy had fought Roshi during the last tournament, five years ago. His kicking techniques were pretty good, from what I remembered.
But in the last five years, it was clear that a few things had happened. The guy's hair was greying, and his muscles were leaner. I couldn't tell if that was because he'd gotten stronger or weaker, though, since he didn't have much in the way of ki.
But Kakarot hadn't even been on Earth during that last tournament, so he clearly didn't particularly care about that.
Instead, the seven-year-old chose to ask the important questions. "Wait, if you're a king, does that mean you have a castle? Grandpa told me that all kings have a castle, and subjects. If your subject is kicking, then where's your castle?" The boy asked.
The Kick King was taken back by the completely honest, naive question."My castle is… in the shop!" He replied.
"Oh!" Kakarot exclaimed in agreement, like that made total sense. In the crowd, I could see Roshi facepalm alongside Old Gohan and me.
Ahh, classic Goku.
"You don't look as strong as that other guy, but fighting you should be fun, too! Here I come! Try to stop me!" Kakarot moved like lightning. Unlike his battle with Zeck, he was taking this one like a game.
An important game that he didn't intend to lose, but a game nonetheless.
He split into five afterimages, clearly taunting the poor old Kick King. The older man did the only thing he could think to do in response. He destroyed all five afterimages with his foot, one after the other.
In response, Kakarot hooked his tail around the Kick King's free foot and pulled, causing the martial artist to fall on his face.
Scrambling back to his feet, the Kick King took the advantage, this time around. With a flurry of motion, he unleashed a move that I felt it apt to call 'The Windmill'
His feet smacked into Kakarot's face more times in the span of five seconds than I bothered to count. Flailing his arms for balance, Kakarot stumbled backward, confused.
"Wait a second… Castles don't move. How did you send it to a shop?" Apparently, the foot to the face had knocked the logic out of the boy's brain.
Roshi and Gohan facepalmed again, I chuckled.
"I am the Kick King, Orin Temple's strongest disciple!"
"Wait… so you lied? If you're a student, then there's no way you can be a king, too! That's not how it works!" Kakarot complained.
"Annoying brat!"
"Liar!"
The two clashed once more. This time, though, Kakarot had seen through the Kick King completely. "You're a bad liar, too! Take this!" And the boy caught the Kick King's foot, throwing him out of bounds with a heave.