Amid the flickering flames, Tao Pai Pai's charred body plummeted from midair.
Thud.
He crashed onto the arena floor, limp and lifeless. His entire body was blackened, his clothes scorched, and wisps of smoke curled into the air.
The announcer, still too close to fully comprehend what had just happened, adjusted his sunglasses, microphone in hand, and stepped forward—only to be hit by the unmistakable stench of burnt flesh.
Tao Pai Pai's hands had been completely obliterated. His face was charred and cracked, his eyeballs bloodshot. A hoarse, rasping sound scraped from his throat in broken syllables:
"D-damn… h-how… could… th-this…"
His voice grew fainter. The light in his pupils dimmed—flickering, fading, then vanishing entirely.
"There are many ways to kill, young man."
In his final moments, that deathly voice echoed once more in his ears…
Why?
Why had he thought attacking the audience would force that man to move?
The question would remain unanswered for eternity.
Tao Pai Pai's consciousness was swallowed by the abyss of darkness, his ki like a candle in the wind—wobbling, trembling—before finally being snuffed out.
Boom!
In a hotel room, the television exploded, its shattered remains crackling with static.
Tsuru silently lowered himself from his meditative levitation, his expression unreadable. Without hesitation, he slid open the window and flew off into the night.
---
If the announcer was stunned, the audience was utterly dumbfounded—especially those seated in the half of the stadium that Tao Pai Pai had directly targeted.
They had been the ones in the line of fire.
They knew better than anyone the sheer destructive power of that attack.
They had felt the terror of imminent death.
What was he trying to do?
Was he really going to attack the audience?
Who was he aiming at?
No one could say.
For a moment, chaos teetered on the edge of eruption.
But just as the panic threatened to explode, a voice rang out in their minds—
A voice that seemed to resonate from the depths of their very souls.
"Do not panic."
And with that voice came an overwhelming force—vast and boundless, washing over the entire coliseum in an invisible tide.
It was soft, yet undeniable.
It had no form, no weight, yet it pressed every single spectator firmly back into their seats.
To those watching from afar—through livestreams, television broadcasts, and news clips—what happened next was baffling.
From their perspective, Tao Pai Pai had suddenly shot into the air, facing the audience. The crowd beneath him had just begun to surge in chaos—
And then, as if someone had snapped their fingers, everything went still.
It was like watching a pot of water come to a boil—only for the bubbling surface to instantly calm.
No one outside the arena could understand what had just happened.
Even the audience themselves, after that brief moment of terror, felt an inexplicable sense of tranquility, as though a distant lullaby had soothed their souls, calming them before panic could fully take hold.
Cough, cough.
The announcer cleared his throat, his voice echoing through the stadium speakers.
"Dear audience members, due to some… unexpected developments… it appears that contestant Tao Pai Pai suddenly went mad for reasons unknown, attempting to attack the spectators with a special technique…"
"However, before he could even strike, his own body… exploded! As you can see—ah, for those watching the livestream, you should be able to see it more clearly—Tao Pai Pai's hands have completely vanished…"
"Perhaps his own evil heart led to the loss of control over his own power, bringing about this tragic fate!"
The announcer's words reverberated through the stadium, finally making the situation clear to the spectators.
"What the hell was wrong with that guy?" a spectator muttered angrily—one of the lucky ones seated behind Tao Pai Pai, spared from the initial terror. "Just because he couldn't beat his opponent, he decided to go berserk and attack the audience?"
"This kind of person deserves to die!"
"Serves him right!"
"He was too dangerous… I always thought martial artists were righteous people, but now… What if people with such incredible power start running wild in society?" A concerned voice came from a beautiful woman seated among the audience members who had narrowly escaped Tao Pai Pai's attack.
"Didn't you hear what the announcer said? It was precisely because of his evil intent that he lost control of his own power! That's why he suddenly boom—just exploded!"
"This is karma!"
"I don't buy it… How can power go out of control just because someone is wicked? Honestly, people this powerful are dangerous…" A frail-looking young man voiced his skepticism.
"Hey, you punk!" A burly man in a red tank top smirked, flashing the young man a menacing glance. "You look pretty smart. Who's to say you won't plan a terrorist attack someday? Before Tao Pai Pai was a martial artist, he was first and foremost a human! And humans can be good or bad! Just like that Muten Master—I mean, contestant Mu Taro—who has the bearing of a sage, there will always be maniacs like Tao Pai Pai too! Am I wrong?"
Women nearby chuckled ambiguously at the tension between the two.
"Yeah, exactly!"
"In today's world, power comes in many forms—money, authority, fame… There are plenty of people who could crush ordinary folks like us without breaking a sweat! You don't see anyone freaking out over them!"
"But what if… what if these martial artists really do—"
Tao Pai Pai's death had sparked a fresh wave of debate.
A debate about the relationship between martial artists and ordinary people. About how these individuals, now thrust into the public eye, should coexist with society.
After all, these martial artists… had already far surpassed regular humans.
The truly exceptional ones could catch bullets with their bare hands. Some could even withstand them without injury—impervious to blades and firearms alike.
If they wanted to kill, they wouldn't need weapons. Their own fists were enough. Ordinary people wouldn't even see them move—only realizing they were dead after they had died.
Of course, to most martial artists, this discussion seemed unnecessary.
The so-called "monsters" that worried ordinary people were rare, even among martial artists. If not for the Tenkaichi Budokai, how else would so many appear at once? The ability to catch bullets was still the exception, not the norm. Most martial artists couldn't withstand modern firearms in a direct confrontation.
But how this debate would evolve, and how this issue would be addressed, was something for the future.
---
In the end, the result of the tournament's first match was a victory for Taro.
Tao Pai Pai's death was officially ruled as a case of "sudden mental breakdown and attempted mass murder, culminating in accidental self-immolation (self-detonation)."
Some online spectators were skeptical of this explanation.
"If Taro was so strong that Tao Pai Pai couldn't even get near him, then isn't it possible that he was the one who made Tao Pai Pai explode?"
"That would be fantastic!" someone countered. "If Mu Taro did do it, then he acted decisively to stop that lunatic Tao Pai Pai from slaughtering the audience! Isn't that something to applaud?"
By this time, the internet had already begun calling Taro "Master Taro."
Since it was still unclear whether he was a true Muten Master, but he was undeniably powerful and mysterious, the public had settled on a more fitting title—Master Taro.
And as people thought about it, they found themselves agreeing.