As the announcer declared the match's start, Denim grinned lazily. "Just surrender, Temada. You can't win."
'Wouldn't that be convenient?'
"No way!" Temada puffed her cheeks, fists shaking. "I'm strong!"
Denim sighed. Unlike Saiyans, he didn't relish combat—too much effort. But if she insisted...
He shifted into a stance mirroring Yamiru's, while Temada copied Vegeta's.
Invisible to normal eyes, their energies clashed in midair.
"Haa!" Temada lunged first.
---
Watching his daughter charge, Vegeta's grip tightened. Memories flashed—
A ruined restaurant. A tiny figure standing atop his bloodied body, eyes wild, drool dripping like a demon's.
Humiliation. Even now, recalling it made his veins bulge.
---
On the ring, Denim deflected Temada's punch—only for his palm to numb on impact.
'Whoa. Her strength's deceptive.'
Clang! Her kick against his forearm rang metallic.
"Hah!" Temada unleashed a flurry—elbows, knees, even a headbutt—as relentless as a storm.
---
Backstage, Videl gaped. "They're... monsters..."
"Wow!" Gohan beamed. "Didn't know Vegeta's kid was this good! Denim must be shocked."
"He won't lose by getting his limbs torn off, right...?" Gohan mused.
Videl side-eyed him. 'Why say that so casually?!'
---
BAM!
Denim finally snapped, slapping Temada mid-combo. She crashed through the ring's tiles, lying still.
"Oops. Too hard?" Denim winced.
Then—
Zing! A rock shot toward his eyes.
He barely dodged, the gust carving a white line on his cheek—
WHAM! Temada's full-power kick launched him toward the edge.
"Denim is sloppy," Goku tsked.
Temada had faked the rock throw, exploiting his distraction. Now Denim yoinked off the ring's corner mid-flight, barely avoiding disqualification.
"Tch." Yamiru frowned. 'Should've lost.'
---
Whoosh!
Denim blurred back onto the ring. Temada barely blocked his punch, her tiny legs plowing trenches in the stone as she skidded backward.
Before she could recover, Denim yanked her wrist—
SLAM! He spiked her into the ground like a volleyball.
CRASH!
Temada faceplanted into the ring, tears welling as her nose stung.
"That brat! So rough with a girl?!" Bulma fumed in the stands. Tights sighed beside her.
Groaning, Temada tried to rise—only for Denim to pin her arms behind her back, sit on her waist, and press her sweat-dampened head into the tiles.
"Ref! Start counting~" He grinned over his shoulder.
"Huh? Oh—ten! Nine! Eight!"
Temada squirmed furiously, aura flaring, but Denim held firm.
"Seven! Six!"
Victory in sight, Denim eyed her wriggling tail. '...Why not?'
He kneeled on her trapped arm and grabbed the fluffy appendage.
('So soft... like petting a cat.')
"Three!"
Beneath him, Temada froze. Then—trembling.
"Two!" The ref abruptly backpedaled.
"N-No..." Denim paled as the girl lifted him bodily off her.
Crackle! Crackle! White sparks erupted above Gohan, Gine, Bardock, and the others.
"Her ki—" Goku gasped.
Vegeta's jaw clenched. 'That day...'
Flashback: One-year-old Temada chugging liquor bottles. Vegeta yanking her tail in anger—only for her to explode into a drunken rampage, breaking his ribs before passing out mid-battle as he achieved Super Saiyan in sheer rage.
---
Ring
"DON'T TOUCH MY TAAAAIL!!"
Temada's roar shook the stadium. A tsunami of ki vaporized the tiles beneath her as she blitzed toward Denim.
"IT'S JUST A TAIL!" he yelped, diving aside.