"...Grrrr!" I grumbled inwardly as I accidentally hit my arm against a wall. While this wasn't the first time that arm had been injured, I'd been nearly fully healed by the time I'd woken up from the battle last time, the injury relegated to the much easier to deal with 'scar' status.
But, ignoring that, I still walked up to the stage, standing across from Kakarot with an easygoing air.
"Sir, are you sure you're okay to continue, in this state?" The announcer asked me.
"I rolled my eyes. Currently, I was wearing a hoodie, my right arm resting comfortably in the pocket. I had no plans on using it at all during this battle, unless Kakarot somehow managed to get past my defenses somehow and was about to kick me in the chest, where my various broken ribs were.
I also wasn't in my SSJP state, making my height, while still taller than the younger boy's, still comparable to it. While my injuries had no bearing on my ability to harness that particular state, the strain of utilizing SSJP was not worth it for someone with several broken ribs, unless I was in genuine danger.
And even with these injuries, I could use about 70-80% of my power level just fine. That was still an effective power level of somewhere upwards of a million.
Kakarot's base power level was less than a thousand. I could toy with him in my sleep, with Tater's broken leg. "I'm fine."
"Okay, then. It's your choice, sir… Or kid?" The announcer replied confusedly.
"Umm… Mister, are you sure you're okay? I know you're stronger than me and all, but you do look pretty hurt. While I wanna fight you, we can do it later, if you're not up for it." Kakarot wondered aloud.
I chuckled. A polite Kakarot, huh? Still, I was a Saiyan. A few broken ribs and a few ravaged arm muscles wasn't anything to worry about. Just something to favor a bit until it was healed in a few days, maybe a week, week-and-a-half at the latest. "Don't worry, kid. I'm still way stronger than you. You don't have to hold back against me." I assured him, "You know, we Saiyans heal pretty well."
"So you are a Saiyan!? How do you do that whole 'greenish hair thing?!' And bulk yourself up like that?! Can you teach me?!" Kakarot bounced excitedly.
I just responded with a shrug. "Try winning the belt, first, kid."
A feral grin spread across the boy's face as he dropped into his fighting stance without another word. With a nod from me, the announcer gave our introductions.
"In one corner, we have the child wonder who recently taught himself how to fly using this exact stage, blowing us all, along with his competition, away with his incredible, furious moves, KAKAROT!" The crowd erupted into cheer. Waiting for them to settle down, the announcer continued, "Meanwhile, in the other corner, we have a man whose last fight was one for the history books, not that any of these finalists' fights today haven't! This man may have come back with injuries, but we've all seen him light up the skies and torch the earth with his overwhelming power! Even injured, I wouldn't dare count him out, it's TAARBLE!"
A little over-the-top, but fair. After our last battles, he was probably expecting quite a bit from this fight. Even though it was clear that I was notably stronger than Kakarot, from our respective battles, a normal person may think that my injury was enough to level the playing field, even give Kakarot the advantage.
Luckily, Kakarot wasn't a normal person. After seeing my fight with Tater, he had a pretty good idea of exactly how outmatched he was. He wasn't going to underestimate me just because I had a few bruises.
As soon as the announcer started the fight, Kakarot vanished from his place, leaving a dozen afterimages in various positions in his place. Not to trick me, but to annoy me, as he honed in on my position with the greatest speed he could muster.
Annoyed, I blasted him back with my left forefinger. The boy's body shot through the air, going straight through an afterimage of him slapping his butt tauntingly in midair, as the shockwave shattered all of the other afterimages at once, too. He landed on the other side of the arena, rolling for a bit before he jumped back to his feet and tried again.
And again.
He tried the same thing about a dozen times in succession. He went in for a punch, I caught it with a finger from my left hand, then sent him flying with a gentle push. Rinse and repeat.
Then, realizing that what he was trying to do wasn't going to work, the boy finally changed his tactics.
This time, instead of rushing in quickly, he punched quickly. He sent several dozen punches at me, using a technique that reminded me of that 'King Chappa' guy.
I blocked each and every one with the forefinger on my left hand. Which simply made Kakarot more determined to get at least one blow in, or maybe make me move or use more than one arm.
So, he began adding in other things, varying his attacks.
First, it was kicks. A few at a time. Moving so quickly that my finger blurred even to Kakarot, I blocked those with my finger, too.
His technique, at least, was much better than Tater's. He was far more skilled. His fighting style felt kind of like Pepper's, an impressive combination of impulse and skill that reminded me of a lower, but far more feral, version of Roshi's own thoughtless style.
Each of his limbs slammed into my finger almost independently of each other, all full-powered. It didn't surprise me that Zeck hadn't dared to fight against a full-powered Kakarot at close range. Even equal in power, Zeck's technique wouldn't stand a chance against this kid's. I was proud.
Still, Kakarot wasn't in my league.