Just like that, ten short days had flown by...
So today, all the top martial artists on Earth—the men hailed as "the strongest on Earth"—had gathered once more at Master Roshi's little house. They included Krillin, Yamcha, Tien, Chiaotzu, Piccolo, and even the reluctant fatso Yajirobe.
They had no idea when the enemy would arrive today, or where on Earth they would land. That made Master Roshi's house, far out in the middle of the ocean, the best and most suitable place to gather.
"Sigh..."
"Time really does fly. It's already the day we have to go fight our final battle again. I wish time would slow down a little..."
Once just about everyone who was expected had arrived, Yamcha saw that his companions were either sitting quietly to sense something or standing off to the side, lost in thought. He sighed ruefully.
People were always complaining that time passed too slowly. They liked to say things like "a day feels like a year," "one day apart feels like three autumns," or "the years are hard to bear." But once they realized their lives might be counting down, and that cruel aliens would soon wipe them out, didn't they wish time really would feel like a year per day—or at least pass a little more slowly than it seemed to?
But time was clearly the fairest thing in this unfair world. Its passage wasn't swayed by power, wealth, or the wishes of anyone who liked to complain. No matter how much they wished otherwise, it kept ticking away, second by second, and soon it would bring them to the moment they had been waiting for—and dreaded facing—more than anything.
"Hmm..."
"Excellent! Everyone's here..."
While everyone had gathered and waited patiently for the evil aliens to appear, ready to rush off