Reprogrammed

The Tournament

18 had been right. The competition here was utterly pathetic. If he wanted a good fight, then he could have just stayed home and spared with 18. But the android had wanted the prize money, and insisted that he enter. Still, the tournament was basically over before it even began. Trunks had briefly wondered if Zangya might show up, but he doubted it, thinking she would probably want to lay low for a while out of fear of him.

"This really is sad." 18 muttered. "I mean, just feel their power. These people need to learn how to really fight."

Trunks had to agree, which made him realize another important fact. He and 18 would not be around forever. Once the two of them were gone, there wouldn't be anyone left to defend the planet. Unless these people found out how to truly tap into their potential, they were going to be in trouble if they were ever attacked by a powerful enemy.

"Well then, maybe we should open up a school of martial arts to the public." He suggested.

18 glanced at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"I'm talking about training these people how to really fight. To fly, use their energy, to become thousands of times stronger than they are right now. You know, become true protectors of the planet."

18 considered this for a moment. "I suppose. Although they do have a long way to go."

"We all have to start somewhere." He said with a smile. "And a martial arts school opened by the world champion will definitely get a lot of people to come for lessons."

"I don't know if I'd have the patience for these pathetic weaklings."

Trunks chuckled. "Then you need some lessons in patience."

She punched him hard in the arm. "After dealing with you, I have had more than enough lessons in patience."

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Well, this was definitely a first. The hosts of the tournament were trying something different, and rather questionable as far as Trunks was concerned. Normally, all the contestants would face off together until a selected few began the official tournament. This time they were using some sort of punching machine that measured a person's strength. The sixteen contestants with the highest scores would be the ones that got to participate in the tournament.

"This is really stupid." 18 muttered. "Who's ever heard of a punching machine? It's just ridiculous."

Trunks nodded in agreement. Brute strength didn't decide who was the greatest martial artist. There were so many other things to consider, technique, speed, stamina, fighting style, ability, skill, the list went on and on.

"Yeah, whoever thought of this is really foolish."

She shrugged. "I guess it won't matter in the end. It'll still be you and me in the finals. This will just save us a lot of time."

She was right, but it was much more boring. It was just sad watching so-called fighter after so-called fighter hit that machine and think that a score over one hundred was something to be proud about.

When the time finally came for 18 to test her strength, Trunks had to remind her told hold back, less she destroy the thing with her superior strength.

"I know." she muttered carelessly.

She approached the machine with a bored look on her face. She nonchalantly raised her hand and barely tapped it. The number 774 appeared, much to the astonishment of everyone present, aside from Trunks of course.

"That's what you call taking it easy!" he cried.

She glared at him. "It's not my fault these guys are weaklings."