The two men with ferocious expressions seemed to be fighting the demons within their hearts. “Ah!” they shouted simultaneously, repelling Mutaito’s “Ten Thousand Nations Shock Palm.” At this moment, they had lost their rationality and were like zombies, only knowing destruction.
Mutaito furrowed his brows slightly, deeply worried about his two disciples, who had been with him since childhood and were like his own children. “Roshi, Shen,” Mutaito said worriedly, looking at the two.
Hearing Mutaito’s voice, the two momentarily stopped and stared blankly at Mutaito. But without further ado, they resumed their fight, aiming lethal strikes at each other.
Mutaito swiftly stepped in to separate them. Seeing someone interfere, the two angrily attacked Mutaito. As the saying goes, “there are no rules in a street fight, wild punches can defeat a master,” and “youth can overwhelm the old.” Their attacks were wild and without technique, and despite Mutaito’s superior strength, his aging body could not keep up with the two.
After fighting for half a day, Roshi and Shen were still full of energy, while Mutaito was already breathing heavily. He kicked the two away and clutched his chest, gasping for air. His disciples rushed to his side, offering help and concern.
Mutaito raised a hand to stop them from speaking and said wearily, “You all step back. They are no longer themselves. You can’t defeat them now.”
One disciple stepped forward confidently, “Even if one of us can’t defeat them, together we can surely suppress them. Teacher, let us handle this while you rest.” He then led a group of disciples to charge at Roshi and Shen.
“No…” Mutaito tried to stop them, but they didn’t listen, with only one thought in mind: “Protect the teacher!”
The group split into two teams and attacked the two. Their sheer numbers initially gave them the upper hand, grabbing Roshi and Shen’s waists and limbs like koalas.
Roshi and Shen shook themselves but couldn’t dislodge the grips. Angrily, they thrashed about, trying to shake off the disciples, growing increasingly agitated. “Ah!!”
With a roar, black-purple energy flared from their bodies, sending the disciples flying. The two resumed their battle, their fists moving faster and faster until they were just blurs. Suddenly, they soared into the sky, continuing their fight, constantly separating and coming together in a fierce and evenly matched contest.
Mutaito, observing the fight, said, “I didn’t expect it to be this thing. Wasn’t it sealed in the Demon Realm? How did it reappear in the human world?” He looked worried, feeling helpless.
The two fought more fiercely, their aura growing stronger. They moved from West Village to East City, destroying buildings along the way, crushing ordinary people under the debris. The two were indifferent to the deaths they caused.
The energy they emitted was like a parasite, feeding on their hosts’ life force to strengthen them. Ordinary martial artists have abundant life force, but these two had once taken an immortality elixir.
Their life force was seemingly endless. If this continued, they might become beings comparable to the Gods of Destruction. But this wasn’t possible; although they wouldn’t exhaust their life force, they would eventually burn out from the excessive energy consumption.
Trunks and the Supreme Kai of Time watched the scroll. It suddenly jumped to a year later.
The two, now immensely powerful, had lost the black energy, but they saw that Earth was now in ruins. Their eyes were vacant as they looked at the desolated land. Humanity had been wiped out; only they remained.
“Turtle, did we… do this?” The young Crane Hermit asked, staring blankly at the ruined city, laughing hollowly, his mind shattered.
Roshi fell to his knees, staring at his blood-stained hands, “Yes… we destroyed the Earth.”
They exchanged a hopeless look, bitterly laughed, then raised their hands and slashed at their own throats. Their heads rolled away, spraying blood that stained the ground.
Trunks slammed his fists on the table, furious. Golden energy burst from his body, transforming him into a Super Saiyan Second Stage, his breathing rapid.
“Smack!” The Supreme Kai of Time slapped Trunks’ face, “You’re acting just like them, destroying the Time Nest.”
“Yes, but I can’t accept it. Why can’t I go there? Why!” Trunks’ energy dissipated, and he banged his head on the table, distraught. “Lint, go call Pica.”
“Yes, sir.”
In the gravity chamber set to one hundred times gravity, Pica was training hard, drenched in sweat. After two days, he had only slightly adapted to the intense gravity and could barely move agilely.
“Sir, you’ve worked hard these past few days. Your training is showing results,” Jarvis said, smiling at Pica.
Pica threw a punch, his body trembling with fatigue, “No, it’s not enough. It’s nowhere near my target.” He continued to punch slowly.
“But two days ago, you could barely walk. Now you can move freely.”
“Move freely? No, I have a powerful enemy who can move as if he’s on flat ground under one hundred times gravity. He toyed with me. I must train harder. One day, I’ll avenge that arrow.”
Pica pushed himself forward inch by inch, falling multiple times but never giving up, continuing to train hard. After each set of exercises, he felt his strength improve.
Jarvis suddenly appeared in front of Pica, startling him and causing him to fall. “What’s the matter? You scared me,” Pica asked, lying on the ground.
“A man named Lint is at the door. He says he has something urgent.”
Pica sat up, panting, “Lint? Looks like Trunks needs me. Oh, ouch.” He tried to stand but collapsed under the intense gravity.
“Jarvis, turn off the gravity. I can’t move otherwise.” Pica said helplessly, feeling his muscles relax after the gravity was lifted.
“Yes, sir,” Jarvis responded with a smile.
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