When Dragon Balls Descend Upon Marvel

A week passed in the blink of an eye.

Inside the conference room of the Assassin Alliance headquarters, Smith Dole swept his gaze across the gathered members before speaking:

"All Dragon Ball holders have now revealed themselves. Next, each of you will deliver invitations to the Dragon Ball Tournament and confirm their wishes and any spectators they plan to bring."

"John Wick, Gunmaster—you will deliver the invitation to Thor Odinson."

He handed them a dossier containing Thor's information, current location, and a Dragon Radar.

"Selina, Michael—you'll handle Xu Wenwu."

Another folder changed hands.

"Alexei, X—you will deliver to Baron Mordo of Kamar-Taj."

"Wesley, Cross—you'll head to Wakanda and deliver to T'Challa."

"Bulma, Melina—you will handle Tony."

"As for Tina, Fox and I will take care of that one."

As Smith Dole distributed the folders, all was calm—until X frowned.

"God, Chief, delivering invitations is such a small task. There's no need for you to personally go, is there?"

Others nodded in agreement. With so many members, why involve Fox or even Bulma, let alone the Chief himself?

Smith Dole thought for a moment, then replied:

"Tina's situation is… special. I am the best suited to handle it."

He remembered Tina's Mahd Wy'ry—the violent madness that caused her to lash out indiscriminately. Sending anyone else, even the martial sage Karin, could end in tragedy. And besides, it gave him the chance to see for himself just how similar Tina and Fox appeared.

With that explanation, the others let the matter rest.

Smith Dole waved them off.

"Go. Distances vary, so you all have five days. We regroup here then."

The members filed out with their assignments.

Smith Dole, however, did not set out immediately. Instead, he flew straight to the Karin Tower.

"Karin-sama."

The white cat sage leaned on his wooden staff, raising his brows.

"Smith Dole, what brings you here?"

"I wanted to ask… after a year, how is the cultivation of senzu beans coming along?"

Karin nodded.

"With all my effort, they bore fruit once. Fortune smiled—we succeeded in growing four. I've kept one for you. The other three I replanted as seeds."

He handed a small bean to Smith Dole.

Smith Dole bowed slightly.

"Thank you. I'll leave this in your care, Karin-sama."

The sage nodded.

"Each harvest, I'll set aside some and replant the rest. In time, the numbers will grow."

Smith Dole carefully pocketed the single bean. To him, it was a second life. This wasn't for training gambits—it was a last-resort safeguard. When more beans existed, then perhaps he could try Goku's method of training by repeatedly testing the brink of death. For now, this one meant survival.

······

Wakanda (front nation disguise).

Shuri frowned at the monitor.

"We've scoured the web. Nothing credible on the Dragon Ball Tournament. Only information about Dragon Balls themselves—the going rate is 30 million dollars each, though the market is full of fakes."

She tapped her notes.

"It's far below the worth of one-seventh of a wish. I suspect it isn't a true wish-granting dragon, but rather the organizers fulfilling a winner's request through power or wealth. A wealthy group could manage that, especially with extraordinary people involved."

T'Challa nodded slowly.

"If it's true mystic power, then it's worth joining. If it's only wealth and influence… then it's worthless."

Shuri sighed. "But how can we know? Just wait here until someone comes knocking?"

T'Challa shrugged.

"No other choice. If I return to Wakanda, they might not find me. Better to remain here. Besides—your Capsule Corporation order is on the way, isn't it? Baymax, the Capsule products… I'll stay with you until they arrive."

······

Elsewhere—

Wesley and Cross descended from their plane into Wakanda's cover nation, a land of agriculture and livestock.

Looking at T'Challa's dossier, Wesley blinked.

"Didn't expect this. A black man—yet the Chief allowed him to hold a Dragon Ball. Strange."

Cross gave his son a sidelong glance.

"You've said that ten times already."

Wesley fiddled with the Dragon Radar, confirming the orb hadn't moved.

"It's just… unusual. With Chief's attitude toward certain people, I thought anyone like that would be vaporized on contact with a Dragon Ball."

He mimed tossing a Ki blast. Cross chuckled faintly.

"This far from New York, even if the Chief released the Dragon Balls, I doubt his will extends that far. And remember—he despises the wicked, the robbers and killers, not entire groups of people. Otherwise, he wouldn't send us here to deliver this."

······

(End of Chapter)

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