On Namek, beneath the emerald-green sky.
Five alien creatures who looked slapdash, as though they had not fully evolved yet, stood in a row and twisted their bodies in sync to a rhythm so awful it could only be called mental pollution.
"We are—!"
"Ginyu!"
"Recoome!"
"Burter!"
"Jeice!"
"Guldo!"
"The strongest in the entire universe—the Ginyu Force!!!"
Out on the wasteland, the Ginyu Force struck that timelessly classic, embarrassingly dramatic entrance pose.
Not far away, Namek's Grand Elder huddled behind a boulder with a group of his people, their faces filled with despair for the universe itself.
Across from them, Vegeta stood with his arms folded, the veins on his forehead practically tap-dancing.
"Raditz," Vegeta ground out through clenched teeth, fighting down the nausea churning in his stomach, "Kakarot kicked us out of the Gravity Chamber and dragged us all the way to this godforsaken green dump just to watch these five idiots who escaped from a mental hospital shake their asses?!"
Raditz expressionlessly rolled his wrist, his knuckles cracking sharply. "Kakarot said that the first step to taking over this star region was sweeping Frieza's remnants into the trash. Also, we need to bring a Namekian named Dende to Earth to take over the position of Guardian."
"Hmph. A bunch of trash with power levels barely over a hundred thousand, and they dare call themselves elites?"
Vegeta smiled—a truly savage smile. After half a month of Tights's frenzied material collection and the double pressure of the Gravity Chamber, his temper had long become a powder keg ready to blow at any moment.
The burly man called Recoome had not even finished dancing when he arrogantly pointed at Vegeta. "Hey, shorty over there! Aren't you one of King Frieza's—"
Bang!
Recoome's voice cut off abruptly, replaced by the dull sound