Chapter 328: Talk About Asking to Die
At this exact moment, King Piccolo's head was a little foggy. He'd have sworn that after all his years on Earth, he understood the place inside and out.
Back in the day, Earth's greatest martial artist, Mutaito, had used some bizarre technique called the Evil Containment Wave to seal him inside a beat-up rice cooker.
And that had been the absolute limit of what the man could manage. Mutaito was strong, sure, but next to Piccolo himself, he'd always been far too weak.
And yet the five presences King Piccolo could sense right now were all every bit a match for that so-called Mutaito — some of them even far surpassing him!
No — "surpassing Mutaito" didn't even cover it. It genuinely felt like they were stronger than King Piccolo himself at his own peak!
Was this some kind of joke?
Where had powerhouses like this on Earth even come from?
What on earth had happened during all those years he'd been sealed away?
Why did this feel like a completely different Earth from the one he remembered?
An invisible sense of danger surged up in him. His expression turned wary, grim, and beads of sweat broke out on his forehead without his meaning them to.
His gaze bored into the ceiling above. Nothing about it looked out of place, and yet he was certain — there were now several uninvited guests up on the roof!
"What is actually going on? Why does Earth have powerhouses like this now? None of them have even shown themselves to me directly, and I'm already this tense — is it me? Have I gone soft after being sealed away so long?"
King Piccolo found himself rising from his throne without meaning to, his expression unusually grim. A few beads of cold sweat rolled down his face, though he had no mind left to spare for wiping them away.
King Piccolo wasn't the only one who sensed something wrong — the demon-kind nearby felt it too, a strange, crushing pressure bearing down on their hearts.
It felt exactly like storm clouds gathering low over a city about to fall — the kind of feeling that made you tense up and go on guard without quite knowing why.
Out in the open square beyond the hall, under the blazing sun, one of the transmigrators was busy dealing with human corpses.
He scratched his head, puzzled, and muttered to himself in disbelief. "Why do I have such a bad feeling all of a sudden? Hey, Kōhei, are you getting this too?"
This was the same two-meter-tall transmigrator from before — no telling whether he'd always been that tall or whether King Piccolo's assimilation had made him that way.
The "Kōhei" he was talking to was the other transmigrator — the two of them together were the Dragon Ball world's pair of rule-breakers, the ones who'd released King Piccolo and triggered this whole quest.
Kōhei frowned faintly, glancing down at his own grass-green skin with distaste, and shook his head. "You're just wound too tight. We've been in this world less than a year — it's normal to be a little on edge."
"Sure, we look a bit ugly like this — totally off from normal human standards of beauty — but with enough raw power, who cares what you look like? Wave a hand and countless people will line up to flatter you."
The tall transmigrator's eyelid twitched. He muttered, bewildered, "Am I really just wound too tight? I haven't even stayed up late these past few days — I've just been a little... indulgent in a certain department, is all."
Without quite meaning to, he glanced up toward the rooftop above — and froze on the spot. His pupils contracted sharply, and his breath caught for a full second.
"Is that — is that... Turtle — that's Master Roshi!!"
He'd instantly recognized one of the five figures standing on the rooftop — none other than the Dragon Ball world's own famous Master Roshi.
Roshi was easy to spot — the bald head, the distinctive beard, the wiry frame — anyone who'd watched Dragon Ball would recognize him at a glance.
The moment the words left his mouth, Kōhei, startled, followed his gaze up toward the roof, muttering along with him: "Master Roshi? What's Master — Master Roshi doing here!!"
Two pairs of shocked eyes fixed on the five uninvited guests atop the roof — none other than Ryū, Yukari, the Ancient One, Tatsumaki, and Master Roshi!
"Yara yara, spotted us already, did they? Guess getting assimilated into demon-kind really did bump their power up quite a bit — they'd almost squeeze into the front end of the chat group's lower tier."
Yukari closed the several-meter-wide gap-passage with a casual gesture, her parasol shielding her perfectly from the blazing sun above — and, standing close beside her, Ryū got the benefit of its shade too.
Her bright violet eyes, glinting with amusement, looked down at the two rule-breaking transmigrators below — neither properly human nor properly anything else.
A delicate folding fan appeared in her hand from who knew where, and she gave a light laugh. "Looks like all our prey's accounted for. Two transmigrators out here, King Piccolo inside — we can scoop up the whole nest in one go."
She hadn't bothered to keep her voice down when she said the word "transmigrators."
Ryū and the others heard her clearly — and so did King Piccolo, and so did the two rule-breaking transmigrators.
King Piccolo might have still been inside the hall, but with hearing like his, there was no chance he'd have missed what was happening outside.
Kōhei's pupils shrank sharply, staring in disbelief at Yukari standing at the rooftop's edge.
If he was honest, this blonde "girl" looked awfully familiar — especially that passage covered in little red eyes, which rang an especially strong bell.
"How does that thing... know who we are? You big idiot, did you let something slip?"
Kōhei's face darkened. Having their identity exposed left him rattled, and he shot a hard glare at the tall transmigrator beside him.
Only the two of them knew they were transmigrators. If he himself hadn't let it slip... then it had to have been this guy.
"I'm not an idiot, quit suspecting me — why the hell would I tell anyone that? And besides, haven't you figured it out yet? That blonde one is the old hag from the Touhou series — Yukari!"
"This is supposed to be the Dragon Ball world, isn't it? Isn't the old hag a Gensokyo character? Why the hell is she standing right here? What, does Dragon Ball have some crossover with the Touhou Project games too?"
"..."
Ryū shot Yukari an inconspicuous glance from the side. He had a strong feeling these two transmigrators were about to die badly. Very badly.
Across every world in the chat group, Ryū was probably the only one who could call her "old hag" and walk away unscathed.
As for that tall transmigrator, though...
Ryū could only offer him a moment of silent mourning.
He'd never seen anyone quite so determined to dig his own grave.
Dead man walking.
No saving him now.
Just bury him already.
Locked in as Kōhei going forward.
☆☆☆
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