PART THIRTY FOUR: QUARTER FINALS

Chapter 166

Translated by npberryhill, edited by Guilarai

Once the members of Universe 11 disappeared, a wave of relief washed over all those within Universe 0. Buu of Universe 4 offered the South Kaioshin a silly expression.

“Happy?” he mocked.

“Don’t assume we’d be grateful to you, just because things are finally back to normal,” the deity raged. “You are a nuisance and a disruption, regardless of any thanks you might have earned.”

“Heh,” the Djinn sneered.

Throughout the arena, in spite of the Varga’s calls for calm, the masses were still in a state of panick.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please return to your seats!” the announcer repeated. “We’re doing everything we can to ensure the tournament continues, in spite of this, ehem, unfortunate incident!”

The announcer sighed, stepping away from the microphone and turning to his colleagues in the control room.

“Well, that’s all well and good, but... I’m starting to wonder, with what just happened, if we should continue at all. Maybe it’s a bad idea after all?”

“Oh, is it? We’ve dealt with the heart of the matter, haven’t we? We’re not going to let one unfortunate little mishap spell the end of these incredible fights! What would the sponsors say?”

“Psh, yeah... it’s not like we all died ten minutes ago...”

Following the Varga’s announcement, Son Goku was observed jumping for joy, his comrades gazing with annoyance.

“Alright! So, we can start back then? I think it was my turn!”

“Hey, wait just a second!” a loud voice interrupted from the bleachers.

Spectators, concerned with the immediate resumption of the tournament, had begun to shout their protest at the organizers, who were clearly not handling the problem with care.

“What the hell is this?” one of them cried, a lizard named Shando. “A bunch of guys attacked us and you only removed three of them! We’re not safe with all these sociopaths!”

“That’s right!” another alien exclaimed from further away, pointing at her neighbor. “That one threw herself at us, she even strangled someone!”

“It wasn’t my fault!” the woman flailed, panicking. “I wasn’t in control, I swear!”

All throughout the stands, the tension was escalating. Goku even took notice, disturbed by the worsening situation as he awaited his battle.

Babidi’s former slaves, meanwhile, were now the target of everyone’s hatred and blame. On the Universe 13 balcony, Vegeta stood back away from his peers, while Nappa, who had just returned after shaking off an unexplained fainting spell, had all sorts of food and objects thrown at him and Kakarotto.

“Listen to us, dammit!” Nappa tried shouting in vain. “It wasn’t our fault, we were brainwashed—we don’t want any trouble!”

“Well I liked it,” Kakarotto murmured to himself, scowling.

“You shut your mouth,” Nappa hissed through the corner of his mouth. “I’m trying to keep us from getting sent back home, you idiot! Don’t make things worse!”

Vegeta didn’t interfere. Doing so would only draw more attention to them, and he felt like the situation would diffuse—the good samaritans and the spineless gods had made it clear that Babidi was the real source of the problem. Besides, he was more concerned with the sudden spike in Kakarotto’s power: the walking, immortal catastrophe himself.

He’d kept him close, on a leash, all these years. Of course, every moment of that was pure annoyance and he constantly daydreamed about getting rid of him—but Kakarotto had proven useful to him, despite the rabid dog’s many excesses.

In terms of military strength, his own empire was no match for that of the Frost Demons. Their old armies had either been disbanded or destroyed during his takeover, which left Vegeta struggling to maintain his dominance at times over such a vast expansive universe.

But the mad Super Saiyan known as Kakarotto, under the command of the great Emperor Vegeta, provided fear—enough to keep the local systems in line and dissuade any revolts. The universe was massive after all, and his troops could not keep it all under control.

However, the multiverse tournament had definitely disrupted the status quo and evened the balance of power. It had allowed Kakarotto to progress far too quickly—while before he could easily crush him with his superior transformation, Super Saiyan 2, now the other warrior had reached the same threshold. Not only that, but he could apparently combine that with the lost transformation into Oozaru, which had suddenly returned as if by some miracle.

True, Vegeta had also surpassed his limits again, reaching level 3, granting him an overwhelming superiority again—but Kakarotto had that potential as well. His counterpart from Universe 18 had already mastered the form, almost effortlessly. Raichi’s ghost had also demonstrated how terrifying this form could be when properly controlled. If he didn’t act quickly, Vegeta might soon find himself unable to get rid of the immortal... who could quickly surpass him. He’d become a real threat, the Emperor had to scheme a means to rid himself of the clown for good.

For his part, Android 17 kept quiet, though obviously frustrated by all the attention being paid to him by these human vermin and alien scum. Becoming a slave had left a bitter taste inside him, even if he had enjoyed going wild and committing massacres in the moment. But being crushed so violently by Piccolo had engraved an immense terror in him.

Having been defeated by a highly trained Son Goku, whom he had never had the chance to face back home, was begrudgingly acceptable to him. But to be completely dominated by an insect that he’d once killed in two blows... was total humiliation. He had begun to realize that he himself was nothing more than a fly with clipped wings in a nest of giant snakes.

He and his sister had no choice but to return home, tails between their legs. Thinking back, he suddenly realized that if Buu had indeed restored everything to normal, #18 had to be reactivated! With that thought, he rushed down the corridor of Universe 14, ignoring the boos from the crowd.

He flung open the apartment door and rushed to the bedroom, full of hope to see his sister awake, imagining her lost and questing gaze. But his faith crumbled at her sight, #18 still lying unconscious on the bed. Buu hadn’t taken his twin into account when activating his power, leaving her inert... Had that been deliberate, or had he merely forgotten? Either way, the cyborg was heartbroken.

“I’m sick of this tournament! The Djinn didn’t even reactivate #18... maybe if I pretend to listen to that Yamcha, they would fix us, and then...”

He had to face the facts: the insolent human was right. Their power had dried up, and they were nothing but rusty machines. This feeling of helplessness was terrible, he now knew what it was like to be at the mercy of other monsters, and even the potential survivors who might be waiting for them back at home. The prospect was frightening!

The crowd rumbled louder with each passing second, and the atmosphere felt as if a civil war might break out. Meanwhile, the Vargas and the Nameks were trying to restore calm as best they could. On the Universe 1 patio, the Kaioshins had gathered to deliberate and make a decision. Aside from the Grand Kaioshin, who merely listened, the four gods argued with one another about whether or not to continue the tournament. The South and East Kais thought it was a bad idea and should be canceled. But the West and North were keen to resume the event, with increased severity.

As the arguments continued, words grew harsher and closer to action—then Cold of Universe 8 landed in front of Universe 1’s balcony and captured the attention of a portion of the arena. Back in their own area, Freeza, Coola, and their soldiers watched their king in fear, unsure why he had taken such a bold action.

But to everyone’s surprise, the Frost Demon knelt before the Grand Kaioshin and bowed his head with respect.

“Wise Kaioshins, along with everyone else present... On behalf of my universe and all those who may have caused you harm, I wish to offer my most sincere apologies. Our previous behavior towards you was inexcusable, but in my right mind I would never dream of disrespecting the Kaioshins, the great gods of the universe. Please, forgive us.”

Silence fell over the asteroid. For everyone, witnessing a galactic emperor kneeling and asking for forgiveness was a huge shock—to his own universe in particular, followed closely by Vegeta of Universe 13. He would’ve never stooped to such graveling, even to save his own skin.

But Cold, or rather Captain Ginyu, felt neither humiliation nor concern about misplaced pride. He was an opportunist, as he always had been, and knew how to seize the slightest opportunity in order to survive and become stronger—he would never do something so foolish as opposing the deities, especially in a context like this. As the victims had clearly stated, they had all been enslaved by the worm’s deceitful magic, and he refused to lose the opportunity to witness more of such a grand event as this—with the slim hope of stealing the Dragon Balls later if it arose. As a warrior though, he too wanted to see this tournament to the end at any cost. While the old Cold would’ve turned his head in disdain, he had no ego to keep him from bowing to the gods. Besides, this would make an even bigger impression. And it did.

Everyone fell silent again as the Grand Kaioshin stepped forward and smiled at the Frost Demon. He then spoke loudly for everyone.

“You may be brown nosing, my dear Cold, but you do speak the truth. We have already agreed that not all the attackers acted of their own free will. Let everyone take note—the beings corrupted by Babidi are certainly not angels, but they are victims in this affair just the same! The true culprit is Universe 11; we will not hold the actions of others against them. Thus, I have spoken.”

Cold bowed again, before flying off towards his area, but along the way he was greeted by the cheers of many spectators as well as his own soldiers. Although many of them were still not convinced by the Kaioshin’s declaration, they had to accept it. Up in the bleachers, some were even seen hugging it out to bury the hatchet.

“Well said!” exclaimed a woman named Zarya—she had been the warrior to spark the counter-offensive at the start of the rebellion. She hugged the slave she had been fighting. “Actually, you’re pretty cool, and strong!”

“Thanks, you fight pretty well yourself!” replied the alien, a being with a shark fin on his head named Bruce. “I get the feeling we might become friends! Sorry I called you a dumb female!”

“Eh, it’s forgotten,” she said with a laugh. “We’re friends after all!”

“Works for me!” he rejoiced. “Actually, if you want, I’ve been sitting on a great way to make easy money. You in?”

“Uh... no,” she shook her head, dismayed.

As the commotion gradually died down, Cold was met with an interesting surprise upon returning to his area. The footsoldiers had been sent to stand at a distance, and Freeza and Coola waited patiently for his return, standing away as if they didn’t want to be overheard. When he landed, he greeted them with a resigned tone.

“So... I suppose we have some unfinished business, don’t we? Do you intend to attempt a coup? Surely you know you’re no match for me, yes?”

“Well we certainly aren’t lacking in the desire to,” Freeza answered sharply.

Coola then took over. “Let’s be clear, Ginyu. You’re not our father, and we do not appreciate your deception. Manipulating us, abusing us all these years... don’t assume we’ll forgive you.” Coola paused for a moment. “But, it is evident that you are far more capable than he was. It would be foolish to start a civil war now, when our reign is going so well.”

“Our decision is made,” Freeza continued, albeit bitterly. “You’ve pleaded our case and thus proven yourself to be a good leader. Therefore, you may continue in your current role without any objection from us. However, it goes without saying that we will need to renegotiate the political sectors of the universe we each control.”

“... Very well,” Cold replied, without opposing a word of his children’s speech.

That all seemed to diffuse the situation, which reassured most people but was not particularly to the liking of one of the Kaioshin’s colleagues.

‘This just isn’t normal,’ thought the Southern Kaioshin. He had placed a block on his thoughts to prevent anyone spying. ‘How can he forgive such a massacre—he himself was killed in that battle! And the cruelty of those mortals, even while brainwashed... I can’t fathom why the Grand Kaioshin would take such a risk, allowing yet another opportunity for this kind of thing to threaten the universes!’

His comrades had their doubts as well, but were more content to accept their leader’s decision. After all, the only one who had actually plotted a coup against them was that foul sorcerer, everything else could be chalked up to criminals being given the opportunity to have fun.

Smiling, the Grand Kaioshin stretched out his hand in front of him, palm up. Buu let out a dismayed sigh, perceiving his friend’s movement, and squealed as he decomposed into a ball of gum that hovered over the god’s hand. Satisfied, the other Kaioshins relaxed.

‘Seriously?’ Buu frowned in protest.

‘This is your punishment for not helping against Babidi,’ replied the Grand Kaioshin. His tone was clearly meant to be stern, but also betrayed a hint of amusement.

‘Punishment? You’re lucky I played along and pretended to be affected by your technique, otherwise you’d have looked really dumb.’

‘Oh, I think I’m starting to know you pretty well. I wish you’d stopped this whole mess from the start, plus you left me to die—which wasn’t very pleasant by the way. Be glad I knew you’d put a stop to everything in the end.’

‘Of course...’ Buu sneered.

It didn’t really bother him though. Actually, he’d quite enjoyed the bloody civil war he’d engineered from behind the scenes. It had been ages since he’d witnessed such carnage! The worlds he had pitted against one another in his own universe were limited by their technology, or had no fighting force. He’d grown tired of them. But this had been grandiose chaos! What a thrill!

Buu himself was far too strong to get involved in a free-for-all like that. He’d have crushed Gohan and Son Bra with just a breath. And in a way, he almost regretted becoming so absolutely powerful... there was no longer any sense of risk or danger, even when facing threats from the multiverse itself. He was absolute perfection, the only uncertainty now was his motivation. Now, his mortal enemy was boredom and the infinite future the remaining challenge.

With the horror show over, all that remained here was to unravel the mystery of XXI—as well as witness the evolutions of Vegeta and Goku from Universe 18 in their impending fight, once they’d have defeated their respective adversaries.

Buu didn’t expect his young human counterpart to emerge victorious against Goku, despite his dazzling progress. As for Cell, he had clearly reached his limits against Son Gohan during their battle—all while Vegeta had not shown anything serious beyond Super Saiyan 2. If either of them were keeping any new surprises hidden, it was him.

While waiting, Buu took advantage of this unexpected respite to retreat into a short nap.

Back in the Universe 9 apartments, Yamcha decided to finally peek outside. A blinding light had appeared, causing Videl to magically recover, as well as their other comrades that had been struck by the Cell Junior from Universe 17—whose corpse had also vanished in the light.

“Looks like things have finally calmed down, guys,” he said to his friends.

“What happened?” Tenshinhan asked, still alarmed.

“It was a powerful magic,” the Old Kaioshin reassured them, slowly stopping his dance. “Definitely the Namekian Dragon Balls, which means Babidi must’ve been taken care of and the organizers have regained control.”

“Do you think they’ll stop the tournament after all this?” Videl wondered aloud, delighted to be feeling much better.

“Eh, I’m not so sure,” Kulilin replied. “If they were, we’d have probably already been sent home by now, or some Vargas would’ve come to explain things to us.”

“Phew,” Raditz sighed and wiped his forehead. “If all this time turned out to be wasted, that would’ve been absolutely disgusting.”

“Don’t count your chickens just yet, our ritual’s far from over,” the Kaioshin butted in, leaving the mat. “Now we’ll proceed to the second part, but first we should move to a better location.”

“What!?” the Saiyan yelled. “But... why not continue here?”

“Oh, so you’d rather your leader catch you here by surprise? I doubt he’s all that patient, and I for one do not intend to see his temper firsthand.”

Raditz swallowed, before hurrying to follow the deity. The humans didn’t move, offering them both a questioning gaze. In order to not arouse the suspicions of a dangerous and powerful Vegeta, it would be better if they stayed here and played dumb; hopefully he wouldn’t realize his subordinate’s plot.

Over on the Universe 19 patio...

Naurb’s eyes stared downwards, he’d taken off his Ultra armor and held it outstretched to their leader. He dared not look up at Eleim or the others.

“I don’t deserve to be an Ultra,” he said solemnly. “For the heinous crimes I’ve committed against our people, I request a court-martial.”

Deep within, Naurb couldn’t escape the memory of surrendering to his darkest impulses: jealousy, resentment, and frustration. He had always fought with unwavering courage for Helior and its people, dedicating himself entirely to their safety. Yet the rigid military code forced him to suppress a simple, seemingly harmless desire—the forbidden love that burned in his heart. That suppressed longing became a demon, and the sorcerer Babidi seized upon it, fueling Naurb’s bitterness and rage. The wicked mage promised him the power to break free from those stifling rules and win the love he craved. Instead, Naurb became a mere pawn in Babidi’s game, driven to slaughter several of his comrades. Worst of all, he had nearly killed her. The weight of that betrayal was a wound he could never forgive himself for.

“Naurb…”, Eleim said in a bitter tone, at a loss for words.

Silence hung heavy among the group. They all understood, deep down, that Naurb wasn’t fully responsible for his actions. Yet there was no denying that his vulnerabilities—his buried vices—had made him an easy target for Babidi’s manipulation.

Phipsil, meanwhile, grappled with her own guilt. She understood what Naurb had meant when he attacked her. The realization that she had unknowingly sparked this tragedy within their group shattered her heart.

Universe 13’s patio.

With Cold from Universe 8 having defused the lingering tension, Vegeta finally relaxed, his piercing gaze sweeping across the arena. Despite the gravity of recent events, Raditz had yet to reappear. His absence wasn’t even reflected in the memories shared by the Djinn of Universe 4. The Earthlings from Universe 9 were also nowhere to be seen. Something was off, and it gnawed at Vegeta’s instincts.

Before he could dwell on it, that familiar, grating voice cut through from behind.

“So?” Kakarotto teased. “How does it feel to be one of the good guys, Vegeta? Was it nice holding hands in the name of peace, love, and teddy bears? Plus, you were with their kids, right? Did you play Uncle Vegeta with your doppelganger?”

“Less humiliating than getting demolished by everyone,” Vegeta retorted, grimacing. “The Djinn showed me everything. You couldn’t even take down that kid, let alone the other soldier. And all that for what? To be some pathetic wizard’s puppet? You, the great ‘I bow to no one’?”

“At least I fought like a true Saiyan!” Kakarotto shot back, his grin sharp. “You won’t find a better warrior than me on that one!”

“A true warrior doesn’t just take a beating and rely on his immortality,” Vegeta sneered. “How many times did you eat dirt in that fight, clown?”

“Three,” Kakarotto said, unfazed. “Could’ve been worse... like when you put me down.”

“We’ll settle that score soon enough,” Vegeta growled, his eyes narrowing.

Nearby, Nappa was keeping his mouth shut. He’d had enough trouble for one day and was fed up with their childish bickering. Though he quietly sided with Vegeta, he knew either Saiyan could knock him out with a flick of their wrist. Better to stay out of it and avoid drawing attention to himself or their universe. Still, Raditz’s absence gnawed at him too.

In Universe 3’s area, Piccolo Daimao and Baddack kept to the shadows, avoiding the spotlight. The shame of having been enslaved by Babidi, a vile sorcerer, gnawed at them both — proud, independent warriors, reduced to puppets. For Piccolo Daimao, who reveled in his cruel, domineering nature—and especially that he was a ruler—the humiliation stung even deeper. The only silver lining was that Babidi’s influence seemed to have obliterated any trace of that cursed, softer side of himself. Baddack, his Saiyan comrade, appeared to be wrestling with similar thoughts.

“Glad I’m done taking orders from that scum,” Baddack growled, his eyes narrowing as the arena’s tension began to ease. “And good riddance to those doubts creeping into my head. That spark of pity? Gone.”

“Yeah,” Piccolo Daimao muttered, his voice thick with disdain. “Damn pity.”

Baddack’s jaw clenched, a bitter edge lingering. He hadn’t seen Babidi’s attack coming, nor his humiliating submission to that wretch. His vaunted precognitive visions had failed him completely. He’d leaned too heavily on them before, only to be blindsided time and again—defeated by Cold, caught off-guard in this massive battle. His power had betrayed him one too many times, and he could no longer trust it blindly.

Both warriors noticed the absence of Tapion and Raichi from their section. The Djinn had followed through on his promise, restoring the arena to its state just before Babidi’s assault. If the Djinn wielded such power, nothing should’ve stopped him from bringing everyone back at once. Like the others, Piccolo Daimao and Baddack found this omission suspicious, a nagging doubt that refused to fade.