"What... who are you people?"
General Blue's voice trembled with fear. Through the gaps between He-El's fingers pressed against his face, he saw from the corner of his eye that every soldier he had brought had already fallen to the ground, completely unable to resist.
How much time had passed since He-El pinned him down?
Thirty seconds?
One minute?
Two minutes?
In such a short time, all the soldiers he had brought—three squads of elite troops armed with firearms—had been taken out.
There had to be at least twenty-five elite soldiers. Even if there had been twenty-five pigs, they could not have been dealt with this quickly.
"My, my, it seems he hasn't paid attention to the latest World Martial Arts Tournament." Master Roshi had knocked out the elite soldiers around him. Leaning on his wooden staff, he stroked his beard as he spoke.
Only the lingering scent of gunpowder remained in the surroundings. The elite soldiers and vehicles General Blue had brought had all collapsed.
"Tch, you guys finished them too fast. I haven't had enough fun yet." Blonde Launch held a rifle in each hand, dissatisfaction written all over her beautiful, haughty face.
Master Roshi, Yamcha, and Krillin had charged in and taken out the Red Ribbon Army soldiers far too quickly. She had barely shot a few soldiers before the battle ended, her magazine not even emptied.
"They're them, after all. It's only natural that it ended quickly." Bulma poked her head out from behind the protective shield. Only after seeing that the soldiers had all been dealt with did she step out, speaking as though it were obvious.
After all, there was Muten, the former strongest martial arts master in the world; Krillin, his World Martial Arts Tournament quarterfinalist disciple; and Yamcha, a World Martial Arts