April 23rd, Age 764.

It has been over 9 months since King Furry called a meeting of the most influential people on Earth, and the world has calmed down significantly since then. The riots in the major cities were quickly quelled, and life continued on, unknowing and uncaring about the troubles of humanity.

Unfortunately, the knowledge of Raditz's existence has caused a general feeling of despair to seep into the minds of most of Earth's people, and not even the news of a new World Martial Arts Tournament was enough to bring humanity out of their slump. However, for one man living in a cheap apartment in the outskirts of Orange City, the announcement of the WMA Tournament is just what he was praying for...

"Come on, Dad! Hurry up!" a small, black-haired girl in tattered clothing yells. "You'll miss the sign-ups! It's the last day!"

"Just a minute sweetie!" the girl's father yells from the bathroom. "This costume you picked out is... it's something alright! Are you sure it'll be better to wear this than my martial arts uniform?"

"Of course, Dad! People love to see flashy costumes! You'll stick out to anyone watching, and when you win, you'll get a ton of sponsors! And besides, it looks and feels like a martial arts uniform!"

"Hehehe... alright, give me a moment to finish tying these boots up..."

Half a minute later, a tall, hairy, bulky man with a black afro and handlebar mustache exits the bathroom, looking down at his daughter with a smile.

"So... what do you think?" he asks.

The man is clad in a black martial arts Gi, with a red cloak tied to his back. He wears white pants, and his feet are covered with black lace-up boots.

"You look awesome! You'll stand out so much more than everyone else! I can't wait to see you win!"

"I guess I do look pretty nice." he admits, turning his head to look at himself.

"Can we leave now?" she begs, tugging on his arm.

"Well... alright. I guess we do have to hurry..."

Moving faster than she can react, he grabs and tosses his daughter a few feet into the air, before gently catching her with one arm. Soon after, he dashes through the now-open door, running towards the WMA Tournament sign-ups at a pace that outstrips most cars.

"Faster! Faster!" the small child demands, much to her father's amusement. With a laugh, the bulky martial artist speeds up, passing the nearest car on the road.

The duo continue on like this for several minutes, before they suddenly come across a large group of people blocking the sidewalk. As the beefy martial artist tries to muscle his way through the group, a loud, obnoxious voice pierces his ears.

"--And it is by His grace, by His mercy that we are allowed to continue life as we know it! What happened to East City was a tragedy, yes, but more than that, it was a lesson. A demonstration of the power that He has! He has proven that He has our best interests in heart! Otherwise, why would He turn on those who fought beside Him?!" a short, bald man wearing priest robes yells, inciting the crowd. "I'll tell you why! It is because He is kind, He is merciful, and because He needed to punish us! We have sinned, oh yes, we are all sinners, and East City's destruction was a warning! He fought against the two who were with Him when He destroyed East City because they wanted to go further! They wanted to punish all of us, but He, in His infinite mercy, stopped them! He brought East City back! He brought the worthless sinners of East City back! He proved to us that He truly cares!"

The girl's father scowls, reaching into his pocket to pull out a pair of earplugs.

"Put these in, sweetie. Nobody should have to listen to these lunatics preach." he murmurs, handing the earplugs to his daughter.

Unfortunately, his quiet murmurs weren't exactly... quiet. The nearby crowd turns towards him with obvious hostility, causing the preacher to pause momentarily.

"...There are some who will doubt Him." he begins, staring at the father and daughter duo. "These fools exist everywhere. I'm sure many of you have had doubters, no? Men and women who despise you for worshipping a 'monster.' This prejudice, this unjust hatred... it has even been spread by the government themselves! They think that they're subtle, they believe that we don't notice how they slander Him! But we do! Every time they spread lies about Him on the news, we notice! Every time we preach, we inevitably get attacked by those who are against us! Take this... this fool in the midst of our crowd! Look at how he doubts us, how he doubts our Lord! Look at how he even indoctrinates his own daughter with his putrid anger and bigotry against us!"

"Ugh... I should've gotten a pair for me too." the bulky man mumbles, pushing his way through the furious crowd.

Stolen story; please report.

"Do you need proof of His kindness?! Of His power?! Then look up, and look no further!" the preacher screeches, pointing upwards. The congregation around him obliges, looking into the sky with fanatical gazes.

High above Orange City, far away enough for him to look like a simple black dot, is Raditz, floating in the sky with a blissful expression on his face. He takes a small sip of the ice-cold cola in his hand, grinning at the sweet taste.

"While your bare eyes may not allow you to see Him in His full glory, that is not a problem!" the preacher shouts. "In His infinite mercy, He has allowed us to keep our technology! If He so wished, He could send us back to the stone age, but He hasn't! We have zoom-in cameras, telescopes, binoculars! All of these things allow us to see Him as He flies above our wretched cities! If we look closely, we can see His greatest gifts, we can see Him prove that He is worthy of worship! All of you have seen the countless videos, no? All of you have seen Him demonstrate his abilities! You have seen Him smite those wicked reporters who got too close, but more than that, you have seen Him create materials out of thin air!"

A rousing cheer spreads throughout the crowd at the short man's words.

"If we follow Him, we will never know hunger! We will never know the pains of poverty! But some of you may wonder to yourselves... 'but preacher, I already follow Him! Why have I not been rewarded yet?! Why must I suffer through the mocking voices of those who doubt Him?!' The answer to your question is clear to me! You have already been rewarded! We all have! Are you not breathing?! Are you not alive?! Those are His rewards! He destroyed East City, yes, but He also brought it back! This proves that He has seen fit to give us free will, to let us make our own choices, even if they sadden Him, but He still wants us to accept and acknowledge Him! To truly be rewarded with eternal life and wealth, we must prove the doubters wrong! We must spread His glory to every man, woman, and child on Earth! Only then will we get our grandest rewards! Take that poor, idiotic sinner right there! Look at how he flees!"

The hairy martial artist audibly groans as the preacher points at him, causing the crowd to turn towards him yet again.

"Outta the way, I'm in a bit of a rush here!" he says, muscling his way past the fanatics.

"Look at his daughter! Look at the anger evident on her face! This is perfect proof of what I've been saying! The sinner's hateful words and actions towards our Lord is hurting her! She instinctively knows that what he's doing is wrong, and yet he continues to slander our Lord! This type of behavior... it disgusts me! How will her soul be saved if she is raised to hate and revile Him?! Shame on you, sinner! Shame! Shame! Shame!"

The crow chants with the preacher, moving closer and closer to the father and daughter duo while shouting. After almost an entire minute of this, one of the fanatics decides to go a little too far...

From the crowd, a woman's hand reaches out, grabbing at the martial artist's daughter. Soon after, more members of the crowd join in, slowly but surely changing their chant.

"Save! Save! Save!" they chant, trying to pry the young girl away from her dad. It doesn't take long before a hand actually wraps around her arm, yanking on it in an attempt to remove her from the burly martial artist.

"OWWWW! STOP!" she cries out in pain, pulling back with the meager amount of power her tiny body has.

The girl's father abruptly freezes when her cry reaches his ears. Without any hesitation, his fist lashes out, breaking the arm of the cultists who was grabbing his daughter. What follows is a completely beatdown as the bulky man fights his way through the crazed crowd. Blood and teeth fly everywhere, and by the time he's reached the other side, the crowd is in complete disarray, and blue and red lights flash from down the street.

"Oh man..." the martial artist mumbles, taking the earplugs out of his daughter's ears. "Hold on tight, sweetie. I'm getting us away from those freaks!"

Half a second later, and the bulky man is nothing but a blur as he races down the sidewalk, easily outstripping any and all cars, along with the few fanatics who try to follow him.

Soon enough, the duo are several blocks away from the crazy crowd and, more importantly, the police car who showed up once the bulky man started bashing head together.

"Are you ok, sweetie?" he asks, setting her down once they're a safe distance away. "They didn't hurt you much, did they?"

The black-haired girl waves her arm around, shaking the lingering soreness from it. "A bit... but I don't think anything is broken! Now hurry up! There's gonna be a line in front of the sign-ups! You need to get there soon or we won't make it in time!"

"I know honey, but this is more important." he says in worry. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes! I'm fine! Let's go already!"

"If you're sure, then I guess there's nothing I can do... but we're going to the doctor to get you checked up on after I sign-up, just in case."

"But Dad--"

"Since I'm supposed to catch attention with my outfit, it makes sense that my name would match, right? I'll let you pick my stage name if you don't complain!"

"..."

"..."

"Alright!" she says, smiling brightly. "I'm sure you'll love it! I think your stage name should be..."

Hours later, a tall, bald clerk fights back a yawn as she fills out the information of the latest applicant for the 24th World Martial Arts Tournament. After sparing a glance towards the small digital clock on her desk, she heaves a sigh of relief.

"Only a few more minutes..." she mumbles, before speaking up in a much louder voice. "NEXT!"

The heavy stomping of boots immediately snaps her out of her tired daze as a tall, hairy, bulky martial artist slowly walks to her desk. She looks at his outfit with a raised eyebrow, taking in the contrasting colors.

"Well... if you can make it past the preliminaries, you'll certainly attract some attention... but before you can enter the tournament, you must submit to a simple check from our on-site specialist."

"On-site specialist...? What's that about?" the muscled martial artist asks.

"It's just a safety precaution, sir." the clerk explains patiently. "Some of the fighters have an unfair advantage over others due to their ability to use Ki. This simple check will ensure that the tournament is as fair as it can be."

"Ki... like what that Raditz fella has? I don't have any of that, but you're welcome to check."

"Of course... and while we wait for the specialist to finish inspecting you, may I have your name, or at least, the name you'll be using for the tournament?"

"I'm Hercule." he replies with a grin. "Hercule Satan."