“Wuxiu…” Bulma closed her eyes and cried out with all her strength.
“Sun Wuxiu!!!
If you don’t come now…
everyone is going to die!!!” “You jerk!
You said you would protect me!!” Her desperate voice echoed across the deathly silent ruins.
King Piccolo sneered coldly.
“Scream all you want.
Even if you scream until your throat tears apart, no one is coming to save you.” Whoosh!
A Death Beam shot forth.
Just at that critical moment…
BOOM!!!
It was as if a meteor had fallen from the heavens.
The ground shook violently, and a massive cloud of dust swallowed the entire battlefield.
King Piccolo frowned.
“Huh?
Did I miss?” The dust gradually dispersed.
A tall figure stood before Bulma like an unshakable mountain.
He raised one hand.
The Death Beam, capable of piercing steel, had been caught firmly within his palm as though it were nothing more than a toy.
Snap.
His fingers tightened.
The beam shattered instantly, dispersing into countless specks of purple light.
The man slowly turned around.
It was a handsome yet stern face.
His black eyes burned with a fury colder than the deepest abyss.
Yet when his gaze fell upon Bulma and the fallen Son Goku, that fury instantly transformed into deep regret.
“Sorry.” “I lost track of time and arrived late.” Bulma stared blankly for a moment before bursting into tears.
“Waaah…” “You finally came…” “Sob…” “You big idiot!!” Sun Wuxiu gently patted her head before slowly standing up.
Then he turned toward King Piccolo.
The peaceful aura surrounding him disappeared completely.
In its place rose a terrifying pressure resembling an ancient beast awakening from countless ages of slumber.
Even King Piccolo felt his soul tremble.
“Piccolo.” Sun Wuxiu’s voice was calm, yet every person present heard it clearly.
“You injured my younger brother.” “You attacked my Master.” “And you tried to kill my woman.” “Are you prepared…” “…to return to Hell?” The sea breeze carried the smell of smoke and destruction across the battlefield.
The atmosphere froze completely.
Sun Wuxiu stood upright in his white training gi, his sleeves fluttering gently in the wind.
He did not release any overwhelming aura.
He simply stood there.
Calm and unfathomable.
Like a bottomless lake.
Opposite him, King Piccolo hovered in the air.
For the first time since regaining his youth, uncertainty appeared on his face.
“What is this…” His sharp ears twitched slightly.
A bead of cold sweat formed on his forehead.
“This man…
doesn’t have any detectable Qi?” Within King Piccolo’s senses, Sun Wuxiu felt no different from a stone or a blade of grass.
There was no life force fluctuation.
No battle aura.
Nothing.
Yet the strength used to crush the Death Beam with bare hands had been undeniably real.
The contradiction made King Piccolo deeply uneasy.
“Hmph!” “You’re bluffing!” To suppress the fear creeping into his heart, King Piccolo spoke first.
His voice was cold and sinister.
“Sun Wuxiu, is it?” “You certainly talk big.” “You must be a martial artist too.
Since you could stop one of my casual attacks, I suppose you’re slightly stronger than this trash.” His arms spread wide.
Purple demonic Qi exploded upward, dyeing the sky an eerie color.
“But before my invincible power after regaining my youth…” “…you are still nothing more than a slightly stronger insect!” Faced with King Piccolo’s threatening display and overwhelming pressure, Sun Wuxiu acted as though he hadn’t heard a single word.
He calmly turned around.
Then he showed his back to the Demon King.
“…” King Piccolo froze.
The humiliation of being completely ignored struck him harder than any attack.
Without sparing him another glance, Sun Wuxiu walked toward the injured fighters scattered throughout the ruins.
The situation was grim.
Krillin’s chest had collapsed inward, and his breathing was barely detectable.
Master Roshi was covered in blood and completely unconscious.
Son Goku was still conscious, but only barely.
“Good.” “No one is dead.” A trace of relief appeared in Sun Wuxiu’s eyes.
As long as there was still a breath left…
The power of the Horse Talisman could pull them back.
Not even King Yemma could take them away.
He knelt beside Krillin first.
The little monk’s injuries were the most severe.
Sun Wuxiu gently placed his hand on Krillin’s chest.
Hum…
A warm white radiance filled with sacred energy flowed from his palm.
The power of the Horse Talisman.
Restoration.
“What…
is that?” Bulma and the still-conscious Tien Shinhan stared in disbelief.
Then a miracle unfolded before their eyes.
Krillin’s sunken chest visibly restored itself.
His pale complexion quickly regained color.
His weak breathing strengthened rapidly.
Only a few seconds passed.
“Cough!
Cough!” Krillin suddenly sat upright.
His eyes widened in confusion.
“Huh?” “I’m not dead?” “And…
nothing hurts anymore?” “Don’t move around.” Sun Wuxiu smiled and patted his bald head.
“I just fixed you.” Then he stood up and walked toward Master Roshi.
Meanwhile, King Piccolo’s face twisted in fury.
Quite literally.
His green skin somehow looked even greener.
“You bastard!!” “You dare ignore the Demon King and heal people right in front of me?!” His sanity finally snapped.
“Die!!!” King Piccolo raised his right hand.
A highly condensed Death Beam gathered at his fingertip.
Its power far exceeded the previous attack.
Whoosh!!!
The beam tore through the air with a shrill scream.
Its target was the back of Sun Wuxiu’s head.
“Wuxiu, watch out!!” Bulma screamed.
Yet Sun Wuxiu never even turned around.
His left hand casually swung backward.
Like someone brushing away an annoying insect.
Slap!
A crisp sound exploded through the battlefield.
The Death Beam capable of piercing tanks was swatted away by the back of his hand.
BOOM!!!
The attack shot into the heavens and blasted apart a distant cloud.
“So noisy.” Sun Wuxiu continued healing Master Roshi without even glancing backward.
“Can’t you see I’m busy?” “Go play somewhere else.” “W-What?!” King Piccolo’s pupils shrank to pinpoints.
His entire body trembled.
A casual backhand?
His strongest attack had been deflected without even looking?
“What kind of monster is this?!” For the first time in many years…
Fear entered King Piccolo’s heart.
Over the next several minutes, what followed was pure torture for the Demon King.
Refusing to accept reality, he attacked relentlessly.
Energy bullets.
Death Beams.
Explosive Ki Blasts.
Eye Lasers.
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Yet every attack met the same result.
Sometimes Sun Wuxiu tilted his head slightly.
Sometimes he casually waved a hand.
Sometimes he dispersed the attack with a trace of Qi.
From beginning to end, he never moved his feet a single inch.
His entire focus remained on healing everyone.
Soon, Master Roshi opened his eyes.
Not long afterward, Son Goku stood back up.
Then Tien Shinhan.
Then Yamcha.
One by one, every injured fighter returned to perfect condition.
The battlefield that King Piccolo had painstakingly turned into a graveyard had been completely restored by Sun Wuxiu alone.
And only then…
Did Sun Wuxiu finally finish treating the last person.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
He rose to his feet.
For the first time since arriving…
He finally turned his gaze toward King Piccolo.