Gran looked up, his expression a complex tapestry of calculation and cold fury.
An intruder from another universe? And arriving exactly when the God of Destruction and his Angel were away? It didn't take a genius to realize that this guest had come with nothing but ill intent.
"Since they're traveling in a Transport Cube, this must be sanctioned by a Destroyer or an Angel from another universe," Gran mused, a flicker of killing intent dancing in his eyes.
In the world of Dragon Ball, these cubes weren't standard-issue vehicles. Even a legendary assassin like Hit had to be gifted one by Champa and Vados. This wasn't a random wanderer; this was a hit.
But which universe? Beerus had spent eons making enemies; the list of suspects was practically a directory of the multiverse.
As Popo stood in silence, Gran shot him a mischievous, sideways glance. "Say, Mr. Popo... since someone is literally breaking into our home, why don't you go out there and flatten them?"
Popo's stoic mouth twitched ever so slightly. "You could have easily beaten me eight years ago. What makes you think I could kill someone on that level?"
"Oh, come on. You're an Angel, aren't you? I refuse to believe you don't have some reality-bending trick up those black sleeves," Gran teased, looking him up and down.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but my power truly is limited to this station." Popo didn't offer any more explanations and simply turned back toward the interior of the palace. Whether Gran won or lost seemed to be of no personal concern to him.
"What a strange guy," Gran muttered. He shook off the confusion and focused. God Realm Tier 3? Coming to Universe 7 to act like a big shot?
Gran pressed two fingers to his forehead, locking onto a distant, foreign signature. "Found you."
Zip. He vanished.
At the edge of the East Galaxy, a Transport Cube pierced the crystalline membrane of the universe. A figure stepped out—a man with blue hair, piercing purple eyes, and skin as black as midnight with a metallic sheen. Every cord of muscle on his body screamed raw, unadulterated power.
This was Omar, the secret weapon of Universe 4.
"So, this is Universe 7?" Omar scanned the surrounding stars, closing his eyes to sense the local lifeforms. To his disappointment, he felt nothing but insignificance. "What a pathetic universe. The mortals here are insects."
He sneered. He couldn't understand why Lord Quitela was so obsessed with a candidate from such a weak place, but an order was an order.
"Let's get this over with." Omar clenched his fists, a dark, oppressive light radiating from his body. The plan was simple: level a few star systems, and the Destroyer Candidate would have to show his face.
But before he could release his energy—
Shing!
A young man wearing the unmistakable raiment of a God of Destruction appeared right beside him.
"Planning on breaking my universe?" Gran asked coldly. If he let this guy succeed, Beerus would never let him hear the end of it.
Without transforming, Gran threw a punch. In his base form, his raw power didn't even reach the first tier of the God Realm, but this strike was infused with his Divine Ki and the sheer weight of his martial will.
BOOM—!
The punch connected squarely with Omar's kidney. The sudden, concentrated force surged through Omar's body, causing his face to contort in agony.
"Who?!" Omar let out a muffled grunt as he was sent tumbling through the vacuum of space.
The impact was so massive it sent ripples across the cosmic radar of Universe 7. On the Sacred World of the Kai, Old Kai and Shin jumped.
"Ancestors! Something's happening!"
"Wait, who is that dark-skinned guy?"
"Doesn't matter! Look, Gran is already there! He's a God now—that intruder is a dead man walking!"
Even in the Other World, the East Kai was jumping for joy on her planet. "My goodness! Where did this interloper come from? Trying to wreck my East Galaxy?! Go get him, Lord Candidate!"
Deep within the Galactic Prison, the elite Merus looked toward the East. "Universe 4? God Realm Tier 3... fortunately, Gran achieved his breakthrough in time."
Omar stabilized himself, his eyes wide with shock. He hadn't even sensed the boy's arrival.
"Which universe are you from?" Gran asked, appearing behind him as if he had always been there.
"When did you—?!" Omar spun around, finally seeing the Destroyer uniform. A candidate. This was his target.
Omar gulped. He still couldn't sense Gran's power level. "A God? You've actually stepped into the Divine Dimension?"
"Surprised?" Gran enjoyed the look on the man's face. Eight years of hellish training had finally paid off. "Talk. I don't recognize your face from the Tournament of Power. Are you from one of the four exempt universes?"
Omar regained his composure. Even if the boy was a God, mortals can't sense Divine Ki, so his sneak attack was just a fluke. Besides, that punch hadn't felt that strong.
"It doesn't matter where I'm from. I'm here to see if Universe 7's candidate is all he's cracked up to be." Omar smirked. He assumed that since the kid was from a "trash" universe, he couldn't possibly be a threat. Being a "God" didn't mean much—the Supreme Kais were Gods, and they were pushovers.
"A challenge?" Gran chuckled. "You think because your raw power is higher than mine, you've already won?"
Oma sneered. I'm Tier 3. I could kill a Tier 1 brat in my sleep.
Gran raised a hand. "Wait. If you know I'm a Destroyer Candidate, aren't you afraid of the Hakai?"
Omar hesitated. The Power of Destruction was the one thing he truly feared.
"I'll admit, the power is intimidating. But I intend to finish this before you can even use it. Watch yourself!" Omar lunged, but his "fair warning" was a lie—his first move was a lethal strike aimed at Gran's temple.
According to Quitela, this kid was garbage. Omar intended to kill him and flee before Beerus returned.
Vroom! Omar became a blur of black light, moving faster than the naked eye could track. "Die!"
He fired a point-blank energy sphere at Gran's head, a blast capable of vaporizing a solar system.
"Not bad," Gran whispered. "I hope you have more than just that."
Suddenly, Gran was enveloped in a shimmering silver aura. His hair turned a brilliant, metallic silver. This was his Divine State combined with the Sign of Ultra Instinct. His power surged into Tier 1, but his speed and reflexes transcended logic.
"Don't go blowing up my universe with that trash!"
Before the blast could detonate, Gran's body moved like a ghost. He ducked, pivoted, and drove a counter-punch deep into Omar's gut.
CRACK!
The Tier 1 power exploded at the point of impact, causing the very fabric of space to groan.
"AAAAAGH!" Omar's energy sphere dissipated as he folded like a lawn chair. He clutched his stomach, coughing up a mouthful of dark blood.
"How... how are you so fast?!"
"Your physical instincts are pathetic," Gran said, beckoning him forward. "Again."
Infuriated, Omar's muscles bulged, his speed doubling as he unleashed a frantic barrage of kicks and punches. But Gran was like a silver spirit, dancing through the gaps in the attack with effortless grace.
"Who sent you?" Gran asked, sounding bored.
He realized Oma was a typical powerhouse—great control over his energy, solid basics, but absolutely zero mastery over his body's autonomy. He couldn't even hit the "first stage" of instinctive movement.
"How are you so fast?!" Omar roared, appearing behind Gran. But before he could swing, Gran delivered a back-elbow that felt like a mountain hitting a glass window.
BOOM!
Omar's internal organs were turned to mush. He spat out blood mixed with fragments of bone.
"Talk, or die. Your choice."
"Damn you! I am a Tier 3 warrior! I won't lose to a Tier 1 insect!" Omar charged again, throwing a haymaker.
Gran stopped moving entirely. Omar grinned, thinking he had him. But at the last micro-second, Gran's head tilted an inch to the left. The punch missed.
"I don't believe this!" Omar kept swinging, but Gran simply caught his fist, twisted his arm, and whispered into his ear using the redirection techniques Whis had drilled into him.
"If you won't talk, I'll guess. You're from Universe 11, right?"
"How are you doing this?!" Omar screamed, blasting off a shockwave of black fire to break the hold. He flew back, frantically charging an ultimate attack. A Tier 3 full-power blast would wipe out the entire East Galaxy.
"I told you," Gran appeared behind him via Instant Transmission. "I'm not letting you blow up my stuff."
Wham! Gran's leg swept across Omar's waist, snapping his spine and causing the energy ball to fizzle out.
"Not Universe 11? Then... Universe 1, perhaps?"
Gran began to flicker around Omar, hitting him from every angle. Each pass left Omar more broken than the last.
On the Lookout, Popo watched the "battle" and sighed. "The gap is too large. Omar has the power, but his martial foundation is a joke compared to Gran's. What fool sent this puppet?"
In the Galactic Prison, Merus smiled. "Gran's martial arts have reached the limit of mortals. A Tier 3 fighter who relies only on raw strength can never touch a student of an Angel."
On the Kai Planet, Old Kai puffed out his chest. "That's my boy! He's got Ultra Instinct—you think your Tier 3 muscles mean anything?!"
Back in the vacuum of space, Omar was a wreck. His spine was shattered, his limbs were broken, and his spirit was gone. He couldn't understand how a Tier 1 weakling was dismantling a Tier 3 elite.
"One last guess," Gran said, leaning in. "You're from Universe 4, aren't you?"
Omar's pupils dilated. His heart skipped a beat.
"Bingo," Gran laughed. "That rat-god Quitela. Should've known."
"You... YOU GO TO HELL!" Omar's body began to swell. He was going to self-destruct. A Tier 3 suicide bomb would take half the universe with it.
"Self-destructing? How unoriginal. I can't let you do that."
Since Gran didn't have the Hakai yet, he had to do it the old-fashioned way. He thrust his fist through Omar's chest, letting his own Tier 1 energy flood the man's system and disrupt the chain reaction.
BOOM.
The explosion was contained within a small radius, merely rattling the stars rather than erasing them.
"Well," Gran looked at his hands, his silver hair fading back to black. "Beerus and Whis weren't lying. I really have reached a point where most mortals can't touch me."
He felt a surge of excitement, but he quickly checked himself. He still hadn't faced Jiren, and those four exempt universes were still wildcards. He couldn't get cocky.
Gran turned and flew toward the Sacred World of the Kai. He needed to tell the Old Kai about the rat's move before Beerus got back.
Meanwhile, at the Palace of the Omni-King...
The meeting was wrapping up. "The meeting is adjourned," the Grand Minister announced. "I trust all Gods of Destruction will follow the King of All's decree."
Suddenly, the Grand Minister's eyes sharpened. He looked directly at Quitela, his voice dropping an octave into a cold, dangerous register.
"Quitela... you have quite the nerve."
The Omni-King, who had been distracted by a game on his throne, looked up.