Time-Skip—a technique that allowed Hit to jump through temporal space, granting him a decisive 0.1-second advantage over nearly any opponent. It had never failed him.
Until now.
Hit materialized from the time dimension directly in front of Casserale. His fist was already in motion, channeling a thousand years of assassination experience into a single devastating strike. The punch connected with the Hell warrior's face—hard.
Casserale's expression twisted in shock and pain as the impact launched him backward. His hellfire aura stagnated in mid-air, flames unable to follow their master's sudden trajectory. Hit had moved too fast for even supernatural fire to keep pace.
CRASH.
Casserale slammed into the arena floor, carving a trench through solid stone.
But his wasn't the only impact echoing across the battlefield.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Frieza was hammered into the ground repeatedly, Dyspo's light-speed assaults giving the tyrant no chance to counter. Each impact created new craters, dust and debris flying with every hit.
And Goku—
The Saiyan found himself driven into the arena floor itself, Jiren's overwhelming force burying him beneath shattered rock. Full Power Super Saiyan Blue—divine ki refined to its absolute peak—and he couldn't land a single hit.
Goku gasped as he pulled himself from the depression, cold sweat streaming down his face. His entire body trembled with exertion.
"HAAAAH!"
He roared and charged again, refusing to accept defeat. His fists became blurs—hundreds of strikes in seconds, each one carrying enough force to shatter mountains. The phantom-like assault created an unstoppable energy storm around Jiren, pressure waves splitting the very air.
Jiren stood perfectly still. One hand raised. Blocking every single attack effortlessly.
"Is this your full power?" The question came almost casually, as if Jiren were merely curious rather than engaged in combat.
The casual tone spoke volumes about the gulf between them. Jiren's confidence wasn't arrogance—it was simple acknowledgment of overwhelming superiority.
Goku didn't answer with words. Instead, he cupped his hands at his side, azure energy gathering between his palms. "KA... ME... HA... ME..."
The power built rapidly, divine ki pouring into the technique without limit.
"HAAAAA!"
The Kamehameha erupted like a river of stars given physical form. The massive beam lit up the entire World of Void, brilliant blue-white energy flowing like the Milky Way compressed into a single attack. The blast engulfed Jiren completely, vaporizing sections of the arena floor and creating shockwaves that rattled the very foundation of the realm.
But Goku's face showed no joy. Only panic.
His hands trembled violently. For the first time in his life, the Kamehameha—his signature technique—had been blocked so absolutely that the feedback force made his arms go numb. It felt like firing a cannon into an immovable wall.
When the smoke cleared, Jiren emerged completely unharmed. Not even slightly winded. If anything, he looked more focused than before.
The grey-skinned warrior's foot lashed out in a simple kick—no excess motion, no wasted energy. Just perfect, devastating technique.
His boot caught Goku square in the chest.
The Saiyan spun through the air like a ragdoll, tumbling across the battlefield before slamming into the ground. His body continued rolling from sheer momentum until friction finally stopped him.
Searing pain radiated from Goku's chest. He lay there, trembling, struggling to draw breath. But even through the agony, excitement burned in his eyes.
"Amazing..." Goku wheezed, forcing himself upright. "Haha... you're really strong..."
"You disappoint me." Jiren's voice carried no malice—just cold statement of fact. His bald face remained expressionless. "Super Saiyan Blue fails to meet expectations."
Then—without warning—a powerful leg swept in from Jiren's blind side, catching him across the cheek with tremendous force.
CRACK.
Hit's kick connected solidly. The assassin landed in a crouch, hands casually returning to his pockets. His posture radiated cool confidence that bordered on arrogance.
"You're too careless," Hit said, his tone carrying the faintest hint of satisfaction.
In the stands, Champa leaped to his feet. "YES! HIT! SHOW HIM WHAT UNIVERSE SIX CAN DO!"
But Vados shook her head, pity flickering across her normally serene features. As an angel, she could perceive the truth. Hit was strong—incredibly so—but the gap between him and Jiren was insurmountable.
Whis reached the same conclusion immediately. "Universe Six may be facing elimination very soon."
"Hit's fought Goku before," Beerus observed, eyes sharp with analysis. "He should have improved since then, right?" But even as he spoke, doubt crept into his voice. "Though it seems meaningless when even Goku at full power..."
The God of Destruction watched Goku's repeated assaults fail to match the damage from Hit's single kick. His face paled. If Jiren truly exceeded God of Destruction level, then even combining Goku, Vegeta, and Frieza wouldn't be enough.
Jiren rose from where Hit's kick had struck him. The attack that would have decapitated lesser fighters had left him completely unfazed. He extended one hand toward Hit, voice soft but carrying absolute authority.
"Leave."
Invisible pressure exploded outward—raw force given form through pure willpower. The shockwave rippled across the battlefield, distorting space itself.
Hit remained motionless, unmoved by the technique. But Casserale—who'd been sprinting toward Hit's position from behind—was caught in the blast and launched backward like a leaf in a hurricane.
Hit had already sensed Casserale's approach through his assassin's instincts. And Jiren? He simply hadn't wanted anyone interfering with his battle.
A single casual gesture. One warrior protected, another eliminated from the equation.
Casserale struggled to his feet, body trembling violently. A single thought dominated his mind: Under no circumstances can I become Jiren's enemy. That way lies only death.
Even Hit felt a chill run down his spine. He'd used Time-Skip to deal with Casserale—a technique that required intense focus and perfect timing. Jiren had achieved the same result with a thought. The gap between them was unfathomable.
"Are you going to attack?" Jiren asked, staring at Hit with those piercing eyes. "Or simply stand there?"
"Seems I have no choice but to use that technique." Hit's hands moved to the hem of his coat, unfastening it. His fighting stance shifted, becoming more aggressive. More desperate.
Goku's eyes widened. "Hit... you're not—"
"I've been improving too," Hit interrupted, his voice carrying grim determination. "I developed this technique specifically to defeat you, Goku. But circumstances force me to reveal it early."
He exploded forward, moving faster than before. Time-Skip combined with superhuman speed created movement that transcended normal perception. An absolute strike—unavoidable, unstoppable—
THOOM.
Jiren blocked with one hand. The tremendous power dispersed harmlessly across his palm, becoming nothing.
In the same motion, Jiren's other fist shot forward toward Hit's face.
Time-Skip!
Hit activated the technique again, desperately avoiding the counter-attack. For one moment, he existed outside normal time—
Jiren stepped forward. His fist changed trajectory mid-strike, attacking from a completely different angle. As if he'd known exactly where Hit would reappear.
The punch connected.
Hit's Time-Skip had failed.
"I've been observing your movements," Jiren stated flatly, his kick sending Hit tumbling across the arena. "Since the beginning."
From the moment the tournament started, Jiren hadn't been passive. He'd been studying. Goku, Hit, Shazazero—every potential opponent had been analyzed, their patterns catalogued, their techniques dissected.
Hit's Time-Skip was used frequently enough that Jiren had completely mapped its mechanics.
"I understand now." Hit spat blood and forced himself upright. His body integrated fully into the Time dimension—not just jumping through it, but becoming part of it. He approached Jiren from within temporal space itself, an attack that shouldn't be possible to perceive or counter.
Jiren remained unhurried. He clenched his fist and struck at seemingly empty air.
The impact shook the entire World of Void.
Jiren's punch had shattered space, breaking through the dimensional barrier that separated normal reality from Hit's time dimension. The assassin was forcibly ejected from temporal space and crashed into the ground.
Goku tried to rush in—
Jiren's eyes flashed. Invisible pressure slammed into Goku like a physical wall, bouncing the Saiyan backward before he could even get close.
"Son Goku." Hit struggled to stand, his body swaying. "Don't interfere!"
The assassin had never experienced such humiliation. In a thousand years of life, he'd never encountered an opponent this overwhelmingly superior. But rather than despair, excitement burned in his chest. His fighting spirit blazed hotter than ever.
He faced Jiren directly, crossing his arms before his chest. His hands formed a frame—similar to positioning for an energy attack, but subtly different. Not a ki blast. Something else entirely.
"I'm going to CAGE you!" Hit shouted, releasing a strange power that enveloped Jiren completely.
Light flashed. Reality warped.
Time Prison—the ultimate evolution of Time-Skip.
The technique separated an opponent from the normal flow of time itself. Against weaker opponents, it meant complete paralysis. Against stronger foes, it drastically slowed their movements, as if they were trapped in invisible restraints.
Even Jiren—despite his overwhelming power—found his actions becoming constrained. His movements felt heavy, restricted, as if chains had been wrapped around his entire body.
Hit smiled with satisfaction. His greatest technique had worked.
Across the battlefield, Casserale watched with growing unease. Something felt wrong about this situation, but he couldn't identify what. He held his position, refusing to act rashly.
Dyspo noticed Jiren's predicament and moved to assist—
Golden energy exploded in his path. Frieza materialized before him, eyes gleaming with cold fury and dark amusement.
"Where do you think you're going?" The tyrant's voice dripped venom. "After beating me like that, you've made me very, very angry."
Dyspo's confidence evaporated. Before he could react, Frieza's assault began—brutal, precise, and merciless.