Between the nine days before the Cell Games, you approach Cell as he stands in the middle of his arena, bored yet patient. He looks at you out the corner of his eye, smirking in amusement.

Eager, aren't we? Shouldn't you be off, futilely steeling yourself against the coming horrors of perfection? ...Or are you just here to check out my perfect form? Heheh! I can't blame you; it's perfect! Admit it, you know you're jealous.

He chuckles, shifting his direction towards you with a confident smirk.

But... I suppose if you are indeed here to fight, how could I say no to a little warm-up?