The Yunzabit Highlands, the northernmost part of Earth, known as the permafrost.
This was a frozen land in the far north of the planet, perpetually covered in biting winds and snow.
Apart from a few locals who lived a harsh life here, this land could be said to be virtually uninhabited.
However, today, this supposedly peaceful ice field was exceptionally "lively," one might even say... a chaotic free-for-all.
"No! I want my vacation! I've been looking forward to this vacation for so long! I want to play video games! I want to surf the internet! I don't want to go train! No one can take away my happy time!!!"
Cell, wearing a Prince Logistics uniform, was shouting at the top of his lungs.
And on his other side, a middle-aged man in a tattered spacesuit with messy hair and a beard—Paragus—was also waving his arms, emotionally yelling at the group in front of him, "My son, Broly! Why are you just watching?! Come and save your father!!!"
His spittle was almost flying into the faces of the people opposite him.
And standing opposite Paragus was Vegeta, his face icy, exuding a low-pressure aura.
Although Paragus's legs were trembling with fear, the thought that he had finally escaped that hellhole of a planet, Vampa, and hadn't even enjoyed a few days of "vacation life" on Earth before his son was to be dragged into some inexplicable... special training?
This was absolutely unacceptable! Broly absolutely! Absolutely could not leave his side!!!
"S-so what if you're Prince Vegeta!!! Do you have any idea how powerful my son Broly is!!! If he gets angry, you'll all be finished!!!"
However, he raised his hand, and the controller on his wrist glowed, as he tried to regain control of his son, Broly, to eliminate everyone present!
But at this moment, his threats seemed so pale and powerless.
Because his "incredibly powerful" son—Broly—was currently firmly imprisoned in place by an invisible divine power. Apart from his head, which he could still turn with difficulty, and the beast-like low roars coming from his throat, his entire sturdy body couldn't even move a single finger!
"Fa... ther!!! Fa—ther!!!"
Broly's eyes were crimson. A green aura, disturbed by the controller, surged wildly on his body as he tried to break through the restraint Whitley had placed on him.
But, unsurprisingly, he could only let out roars of powerless rage.
"Let... go!!! Aaaaaaaah!!!"
Looking at the scene unfolding before him, Whitley's face was now as black as the bottom of a pot.
Those two unreliable guys, Beerus and Whis!
They had actually grabbed this super-bomb Broly from Planet Vampa, brought him to Earth, and then simply dropped him off with a, "We brought the person, the rest is up to you."
And then, upon seeing the extremely troublesome, maddening scene on Earth, those two scoundrels, Beerus and Whis, had immediately made excuses and slipped away!
First, Whis had put on an "I just remembered something important" expression. "Oh my~ I just remembered, it seems the Grand Priest instructed me to report something at Lord Zeno's palace~ I can't delay any longer, I'll be on my way, Whitley-san~ Good luck!"
Beerus had been even more exaggerated, letting out a huge yawn, rubbing his eyes, and nodding his head as he mumbled, "Ah~~ so sleepy, so sleepy! It must be because the trip through space just now was too draining! I have to go back to the God of Destruction's Realm immediately for a nap! Whitley, I'm leaving this to you! I'm sure you'll have no problem!"
After speaking, without giving Whitley any chance to object or persuade them to stay, the two of them turned into a streak of light and vanished from the snowy Yunzabit Highlands without a trace!
They left only Whitley, looking at the out-of-control father and son, and the nearby Goku and Vegeta, who were enjoying the show, his heart filled with despair and a sense of "I've been screwed again" powerlessness.
He could feel his temples throbbing.
No. 18, on the other hand, was dressed very formally today in a well-tailored ladies' suit skirt, her legs wrapped in thick, warm stockings, and wearing long boots. She even had a fashionable ladies' bag slung over her shoulder.
She didn't look like she was here for special training on an ice field, but rather like a white-collar worker attending some business conference.
She stood with her arms crossed, watching the farce before her with great interest, a playful look on her beautiful face.
If she hadn't seen the veins starting to pop on Whitley's forehead and that he looked ready to explode at any moment, she probably would have started complaining about the cold and boredom of this godforsaken place.
But... she was very observant.
Seeing that Whitley was on the verge of erupting, she immediately reached out and pulled back No. 17, who was enjoying the show and even seemed to want to encourage Broly to try harder.
"Hmm? What for?" No. 17 looked at his sister in confusion.
No. 18 gestured with her eyes towards the extremely low-pressure Whitley in front of them.
No. 17 followed her gaze and, seeing Whitley's face, which was so dark it could drip water, instantly understood!
He immediately dropped his spectating expression, obediently followed No. 18 a few steps back, and stood behind Whitley with his hands in his pockets, adopting a "I'm on your side, I'm here to help keep order" posture.
Even the silent No. 16, after feeling Whitley's impending rage, decisively covered the still-chattering little Cell's mouth, picked him up, and silently stood beside No. 17 and No. 18, showing his support for Whitley with his actions.
In just a few moments, the scene became clearly divided.
On one side was Whitley and his "well-behaved and sensible" three androids plus one held Cell.
On the other side was the still-frantically-shouting Broly and Paragus, who, although kneeling on the ground and trembling with fear, was still incessantly emphasizing that "my son is the strongest in the universe."
And... Son Goku, who either didn't understand the situation or simply didn't care, and was instead grinning as he approached the restrained Broly, ignoring his crazed, man-eating gaze, and curiously patting Broly's iron-hard muscles, muttering, "Wow! Your ki is really so strong! We have to have a good fight later!"
And... Vegeta, his face icy, glaring fiercely at Paragus, as if he were about to kill him in the next moment.
This chaotic scene finally ignited the last shred of Whitley's patience!
"YOU TWO!!! THAT'S ENOUGH!!! SHUT UP!!!!!!"
BOOM!!!!!!!!!!!
An indescribable and terrifying aura, like a volcano that had been accumulating for ten thousand years, suddenly erupted from Whitley's body!
A white aura shot into the sky, but it was extremely restrained and did not damage the surrounding environment. Instead, it turned into a pure, oppressive presence, which slammed forward like a tangible tsunami!
Thump!
The first to bear the brunt of this presence was Paragus.
This weakling, who could only rely on his son, didn't even have time to grunt. He was slammed into the ice face-first as if hit by an invisible boulder, unable to even move a finger.
His face was filled with extreme terror, and he could no longer make a sound.
And Broly, standing next to him, although also forced down by this terrifying presence, the ice beneath his feet instantly cracking into a spider web, he stubbornly held his ground!
He gritted his teeth, his face becoming even more ferocious and contorted as he resisted the pressure. His crimson eyes stared deadly at Whitley, and he let out an unwilling, low roar like a cornered beast from his throat. The violent green aura was actually still trying to resist!
Seeing this, a hint of surprise flashed in Whitley's eyes. He nodded and couldn't help but sigh in a low voice, "As expected of the legendary Super Saiyan, Broly... this talent and raw power is really not bad!"
But after this sigh, he held out his hands to No. 18 beside him.
No. 18, understanding immediately, took off the bag from her waist, unzipped it, and poured the seven round, faintly glowing orange spheres—the Dragon Balls—into Whitley's palm, then quickly stepped back and stood behind him again. The whole action was clean and efficient.
"Goku! Vegeta!"
Whitley's voice was filled with an unquestionable command. "Keep them quiet! If they dare to make another sound..."
He paused and said decisively, "Beat them to within an inch of their lives! Just leave them breathing!"
"Okay! I got it!" Goku replied with a grin.
He decisively reached out and covered Broly's still-roaring mouth, his tone even a little like he was coaxing a child. "Hey, your name is Broly, right? The ki on you is ridiculously strong! We'll have a good match later! For now, can you just be quiet?"
Compared to Goku's "gentle" method of restraint, Vegeta's was much simpler and cruder, and more in line with his personality.
With a cold snort, Vegeta stepped forward, raised his foot, and viciously stomped on the back of the prostrate Paragus!
The force was so great that Paragus let out a pained grunt, feeling as if his spine was about to break!
Vegeta bent down, and his icy voice, like the howling cold wind on this land, blew into Paragus's ear. "You piece of trash... say one more word, and I'll kill you. Do you understand?"
Paragus: "!!!"
Extreme terror instantly overwhelmed him! He could clearly feel the undisguised killing intent in Vegeta's words!
Compared to Whitley's vast pressure, Vegeta's direct threat to his life made his liver and gallbladder split!
He immediately nodded frantically, his eyes filled with pleading, indicating that he would absolutely shut up and not dare to say another word!
The world... was finally quiet.
Whitley nodded in satisfaction. This was the effect he wanted.
He placed the seven Dragon Balls on the ice before him, then took a deep breath and called out, "Arise, Shenron! And... grant my wish!"
VMMMM—!!!
The seven Dragon Balls instantly burst forth with a dazzling golden light! A beam of light shot into the clouds, and the already gloomy sky instantly turned as black as ink!
Amidst the lightning, a huge, emerald-green divine dragon suddenly emerged from the golden light, its majestic and enormous head poking out from the dark clouds. Like a god descending, it looked down on the tiny humans below.
"O summoner of me..." Shenron's deep and magnificent voice resounded in everyone's ears. "State your wish! Whatever it may be, I shall grant it for you!"
This miraculous scene left everyone present, except for Whitley, Goku, and Vegeta, stunned!
Including the restrained Broly and the stomped-on Paragus, their eyes were filled with incredible shock.
Even No. 18, No. 17, and No. 16 showed a flash of surprise.
The scene fell into a strange silence, with only the howling of the wind and the humming of the energy emanating from Shenron.
In this silence, only Whitley's clear voice was heard. "Shenron! I need you to revive Frieza and send him to me immediately!"
Shenron's huge red eyes flickered, as if making some kind of judgment.
Then its magnificent voice sounded with a hint of hesitation. "I am sorry. The wish you have stated contains both 'revival' and 'teleportation,' which exceeds my power..."
Its voice stopped abruptly!
Because its huge dragon eyes finally saw clearly who was standing below!
"Uh... i-it's... Lord Whitley!!!"
Shenron's tone instantly did a 180-degree turn, from its previous majestic and business-like tone to one of sycophancy and fear...
"N-no problem! Your wish is completely reasonable! I will grant it for you immediately! Right away!"
VMMMM!!!
A familiar figure immediately appeared before Whitley.
The short stature, the white head, the purple tail...
It was the former tyrant of the outer galaxy—Frieza!
Frieza's closed eyes snapped open, a hint of confusion in them from just being revived.
But the next second, when he saw clearly who was standing in front of him, that bit of confusion was instantly replaced by boundless terror!
"Y-you... it's you?!!"
Frieza collapsed onto the cold ice, his voice distorted with fear.
He subconsciously held out his right hand, as if to block some terrible thing from approaching, and under Whitley's speechless expression, he let out a piercing and desperate scream, "Y-you... stay away from me!!!!"
...
At the same time as Whitley was reviving Frieza with the Dragon Balls on Earth,
In the supreme palace of Zeno.
At this time, in the silent great hall, the small, child-like Lord Zeno was sitting on his huge divine throne out of boredom.
In front of him floated a long table that seemed to be made of starlight.
There were no documents or cutlery on the table, but several planets that had been shrunk countless times, but whose details were still lifelike!
These planets were like ordinary glass marbles in his hands, being casually flicked, rolled, and collided.
"Sigh..."
Zeno sighed with boredom, his childish voice full of unhappiness. "This is so boring... I'm already tired of this game, I don't want to play anymore..."
He complained as he swung his small legs. "Why hasn't the Grand Priest prepared that tournament yet? He said I should be more considerate of the Gods of Destruction and give them time to prepare... but... I think I've been very considerate of them."
His gaze turned to the Zeno guard standing like a statue at his side, and he asked with great curiosity, "Hey, hey! I say, why isn't the Grand Priest here today? Did he go out to play by himself without taking me?"
The questioned guard immediately stepped forward, bowed respectfully, and said with a voice full of awe, "Reporting to Lord Zeno, that is not the case. The Grand Priest is currently outside the palace, gathering all the angels of the universes, seemingly to construct a sufficiently sturdy tournament arena. The tournament you requested, I believe it will be held soon."
After answering, the guard bowed respectfully again and asked, "Does Lord Zeno have any other orders?"
Zeno nodded with partial understanding. "Huh? Is that so... I see. Then I'll just wait a little longer."
He tilted his head and thought for a moment, then suddenly asked a question that made the guard break out in a cold sweat. "Hmm... is one day enough for them to prepare?"
A drop of cold sweat unconsciously trickled down the guard's forehead.
He looked at the completely serious Lord Zeno and cursed inwardly. But he didn't dare to object directly and could only brace himself and answer tentatively, "Th-this... Lord Zeno, do... do you need your servant to urge the Grand Priest to speed up the process?"
Zeno tilted his head and thought for a moment, then finally shook his head, looking very "reasonable." "Forget it, let the Grand Priest arrange it himself. I trust his work the most."
However, he immediately added, his eyes shining, "Oh, right! Go and tell the Grand Priest that I want a lot of people to participate in the tournament! I want to see a whole bunch of people fighting together! That will be lively and fun!"
The guard immediately bowed deeply. "Yes! Your servant will remember! I will definitely convey your order to the Grand Priest in its entirety!"
...
At this moment, outside the huge gates of Zeno's palace.
The Grand Priest was floating in mid-air, and before him stood all twelve angels from Universe 1 to Universe 12, lined up neatly!
These angels, who were usually revered in their own universes and possessed unfathomable power, were now extremely respectful and obedient before the Grand Priest.
The Grand Priest's expression was calm, but his tone carried an unquestionable authority as he announced Lord Zeno's intentions and his own arrangements to the angels.
"...That is the general situation. Lord Zeno intends for all twelve universes to participate this time. My preliminary opinion is that, apart from Universes 1, 5, 8, and 12, whose mortal levels are very high, each of the other universes will send three to five contestants to participate in this tournament."
He paused and continued, "And the name of this tournament, I have tentatively decided, will be the 'Tournament of Power.' Since Lord Zeno wants to see a clash of pure power and skill, an exciting fist-to-fist duel, then..."
The Grand Priest's gaze slowly swept over each angel. "I hope that after you go back, you will properly supervise your respective Gods of Destruction and ensure that they are diligent and not perfunctory when selecting contestants. This tournament concerns the survival of your respective universes and is by no means a trivial matter."
His arrangements were clear and orderly, his tone unquestionable.
"The angels of Universes 1, 5, 8, and 12, you do not need to select contestants, but you have another task. The construction of the tournament arena will be your responsibility. Marcarita," the Grand Priest looked at the extraordinary female angel of Universe 11, "you are meticulous and have the most exquisite control over energy. You will be in charge of the core part of the arena's construction."
All the named angels, including Marcarita, did not raise any objections. They all bowed slightly and nodded, indicating that they understood.
And just then, a Zeno guard quickly walked out of the palace, came to the Grand Priest's side, bowed respectfully, and whispered Lord Zeno's latest instruction about wanting to see a "large-scale battle royale."
After hearing it, the Grand Priest's expression did not change. He just nodded slightly, indicating that he knew.
After the guard retreated, he looked at the angels and updated his instructions in a calm tone. "It seems Lord Zeno wants to see a more lively scene. In that case, the original plan is changed. Go back and inform your respective Gods of Destruction that they are required to prepare ten contestants each! Apart from the Gods of Destruction themselves, who are not allowed to participate, the selection of candidates is unlimited. Finalize the list as soon as possible."
He waved his hand. "Alright, the rest of you may leave first and go back to make early preparations. Whis, you stay behind for a moment."
"Yes, Lord Grand Priest."
The twelve angels bowed in unison, their movements perfectly synchronized.
Apart from Whis, the other angels' figures turned into streaks of light and vanished, returning to their respective universes to relay the instructions.
Only Whis remained, feeling a little nervous, a hint of confusion and imperceptible tension flashing in his light purple eyes.
'Could it be... that my frequent trips to Earth, my indulgence in Earth's delicacies, and my neglect in supervising Lord Beerus's training... have been discovered by my father?'
Whis thought with some trepidation.
The Grand Priest was now looking at his youngest son besides Merus. He keenly caught the fleeting tension and couldn't help but let out a light chuckle, his tone slightly teasing. "What's this? Is our fearless little Whis also feeling nervous? How rare. The little angel who used to jump around and cause trouble in front of me has also grown up now. You're even nervous in front of your own father?"
Whis was a little embarrassed and could only let out a dry laugh, not daring to reply.
The Grand Priest did not continue to tease him and got down to business. "I am preparing to hold this Tournament of Power in your Universe 7."
"Oh? Is there a deeper meaning to this, Lord Grand Priest?" Whis looked up, a little surprised.
"There are two reasons," the Grand Priest nodded slowly. "First, it was because Lord Zeno saw the 'fist-to-fist' duel between Beerus and Champa in Universe 7 that he got the idea to hold this tournament. Setting the venue at the origin can be considered a commemoration."
"As for the second reason..."
He paused, a look of admiration in his eyes as he looked at Whis. "Second, the mortal level of your Universe 7 has been rising at a very good pace recently. And in this, the candidate God of Destruction you and Beerus have chosen—Whitley—has contributed greatly."
Hearing that it was a compliment, Whis was instantly relieved. He even straightened his back a little, an elegant smile returning to his face.
"Ohohoho~ you praise me too much, Lord Grand Priest," Whis said, covering his mouth with his sleeve in a "modest" manner. "Whitley-san is indeed a very responsible and proactive candidate God of Destruction. We have only done some insignificant guidance work."
The Grand Priest shook his head, signaling Whis not to be so "modest" yet; he hadn't finished.
His gaze pierced through layers of space, landing on the lower world of Universe 7, on Earth, on the "busy" figure on the Yunzabit Highlands—Whitley.
In his eyes, there was an indescribable... inquiry and strangeness.
"Whis," the Grand Priest's voice became a little ethereal. He stared at Whitley on Earth. "Regarding this Whitley's specific origins... how much do you know?"
Whis was slightly taken aback, not expecting his father to suddenly ask this. He thought back carefully and replied, "Well... as far as I know, Whitley-san is a Saiyan from the North Galaxy of our Universe 7, born on the now-destroyed Planet Vegeta. Is... is there anything special about that, Lord Grand Priest?"
"A Saiyan..."
The Grand Priest muttered to himself, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly.
Just now, he had tried to use his vast divine power and special authority to analyze Whitley's somewhat unique soul.
But the result had surprised him—
On Whitley's soul, his divine power was like a gentle breeze blowing against an incredibly hard rock; he couldn't probe it at all!
Unable to analyze, unable to see through! Even unable to exert any influence!
This was extremely rare in his long life! And this! also made him extremely interested in Whitley!
"Well then,"
The Grand Priest retracted his gaze and looked at Whis again. "Besides his origin, do you know of any other... unique aspects of this Whitley? Any aspect will do."
Whis was a little puzzled by the question but still tried his best to think. "Hmm... Whitley-san's unique aspects... if I had to say the most prominent, it would probably be his unbelievable talent for training."
"Oh? Tell me in detail." The Grand Priest showed great interest.
"Whitley-san once very sincerely requested me to teach him how to train," Whis recalled, slightly embellishing the process. "I... uh... after careful consideration and observation, I agreed to his request and taught him the methods of training 'divine ki' and 'Ultra Instinct'."
He paused, a hint of amazement in his tone. "And Whitley-san's talent is truly... monstrous. In the few short years since I taught him, he has even cultivated his power of destruction and Ultra Instinct to a considerably high level! Especially Ultra Instinct, the speed at which he masters and progresses is incredibly fast, as if... as if this technique was naturally made for him!"
"Ultra Instinct... what else? Besides his training talent, what about his personality or other aspects?"
The Grand Priest nodded, but his questioning did not stop.
"Also..."
Whis frowned, searching his memory carefully. "There doesn't seem to be anything else particularly prominent... Oh~ right!"
As if he had suddenly remembered something, a smile appeared on his face. "There is one more characteristic, I don't know if it counts as being unique among other strong fighters."
"What is it?" the Grand Priest pressed.
"Whitley-san,"
Whis covered his mouth with his sleeve, his face smiling like a fox. "He seems... to be reluctant to be rough with pretty girls~ you could even say... he has quite a soft spot for them?"
"Oh?"
The Grand Priest's eyes lit up slightly, as if he had caught some key information. "You mean..."
Whis smiled and nodded, briefly recounting the incident where Whitley had held back against Android 18, as well as his usual doting and even slightly "henpecked" behavior with Bulma.
The Grand Priest nodded thoughtfully, his fingers unconsciously tapping his chin.
He looked at the soul on Earth that even he could not completely see through, as if he had made a certain decision in his heart.
"Alright, Whis. I have a general understanding of the situation. You may go back now," the Grand Priest's tone returned to its usual calmness. "Go back and tell Beerus that this Tournament of Power is of great importance. Tell him to take it seriously and not to slack off and sleep anymore. If there are any mistakes and Lord Zeno gets angry, no one will be able to save him then."
"Yes, Lord Grand Priest. I will definitely relay your teachings and reminders to Lord Beerus in their entirety."
Whis bowed respectfully.
Swoosh—!
Whis's figure also turned into a streak of light and vanished from outside Zeno's palace.
On the empty square, only the Grand Priest was left.
He did not immediately return to Zeno's side but stood with his hands behind his back, looking at the ever-changing and magnificent multiverse outside the temple, lost in thought.
After a long while, he spoke again.
"Vados."
The Grand Priest's voice, through a special means of communication, directly echoed in the mind of the angel of Universe 6.
Vados, who was about to return to the God of Destruction's Realm of Universe 6, was slightly taken aback. She immediately stopped and replied respectfully, "Father? What are your orders?"
"Come here for a moment."
The Grand Priest's voice was calm but carried a hint of unquestionable authority. "There is a matter that I need to discuss with you."
"Of course, Father."
Although Vados was puzzled, she did not hesitate. "I will change course immediately. I will arrive at your side in approximately one minute and twenty-three seconds."
Not to mention Vados returning to Zeno's palace, in the short time waiting for her to arrive, the Grand Priest paced back and forth, repeatedly mulling over the matter of Whitley.
"The rules are ineffective... even Lord Zeno's erasure might be ineffective against him... such an existence is truly unheard of..."
The Grand Priest thought to himself, his heart filled with both curiosity and a very faint trace of apprehension that even he himself had not noticed.
"Since he cannot be bound or probed by the rules, and he is not an evil being, and can even be considered 'one of us'..."
Then, perhaps... a different approach would be better.
His thoughts gradually became clear.
"Henpecked? Heh... that's an interesting 'weakness'."
A meaningful curve appeared on the Grand Priest's lips. "Our angel race doesn't have much, but we have no shortage of 'great beauties' who are outstanding in all aspects..."
"Just a 'one of us' candidate God of Destruction is not secure enough. An special existence like this, it is better to completely tie him to our chariot..."
A bolder plan was forming in his mind.
"In that case... let Vados have more contact with this 'soft-spot-for-beauties' Mr. Whitley. It's also a good chance to observe up close just how many other wonders this special Mr. Saiyan is hiding..."
He had made up his mind.
"Perhaps... making him my 'son-in-law' would be a good choice? Hehe... special person named Whitley, obediently integrate into our angel family."
A smile, like that of a far-sighted "old father" planning for his daughter's future, appeared on the Grand Priest's face.
But how much of this smile was based on special consideration for Whitley, and how much was based on the balance and layout of the future of the universe, no one knew.
...
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