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Daisy and the others pored over the security cameras, only to find one glaring problem—the footage was gone.
Deleted.
The only explanation? Teleportation.
With the culprit vanished without a trace, Officer Jenny had to be called, leaving Daisy and the others to handle damage control while Austin sat at the front desk, resuming his job selling shirts like nothing had happened.
At least, on the outside. Inside? His heart pounded. Everything had gone according to plan so far.
Green was hooked, and now all that was left was tonight's meeting. If he could convince her to check out Team Rocket's movements in Cerulean City, then…
"Oi, oi, where can I sign up for this stupid tournament?" An arrogant, grating voice cut through his thoughts like nails on a chalkboard. Austin's brows furrowed as he looked up, mildly annoyed.
Then he froze.
Standing before him was one of the biggest losers in Pokémon history.
Damien Calloway.
Behind him? Three random nobodies trailing behind like they were part of some low-rent entourage. Austin's fingers tightened around his pen. Damien. The asshole who abandoned Charmander.
Damien smirked, snapping his fingers. "Hey, hurry up and sign me up already."
Austin forced his expression neutral and pushed the sign-up sheet forward.
"Of course," he said smoothly. "Just sign here. You'll get a battle number, and when it's called, you'll fight Misty."
Damien rolled his eyes. "Great. Now I gotta waste my damn time with this."
Austin's hand twitched—he wanted to hit something. Preferably Damien's face. But not yet. Stick to the plan. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the phone. Dialed a number. After two rings, a familiar lazy voice answered. "Lowry & Lyle Investigations. This is Lyle. Who's callin'?"
"Hey, it's me," Austin said, his voice low. "The kid who hired you for the private investigation report."
"Ah. That kid. What can I do for ya this time?"
Austin's grip tightened on the receiver.
"I have another job for you. This time, it involves someone who abuses Pokémon."
There was a brief silence. Then—Lyle let out a slow, knowing hum.
"Justice, huh?"
"Justice can only be delivered with evidence. You up for it?"
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"So, you ready to battle the great Gary Oak?" Gary's voice rang confidently across the battlefield as he stretched his arms, a cocky smirk plastered on his face.
"Cocky much? But I guess I shouldn't be surprised—you are Austin's self-proclaimed rival."
Gary stiffened. "Hey! I'm not a self-proclaimed anything!" He crossed his arms, huffing. "But I would expect that from Austin's self-proclaimed girlfriend."
Misty's face exploded into red. "W-What?!"
Before she could throw a retort, the referee coughed loudly. "Can we please start the match?" Both trainers nodded, their banter melting into focused determination as they grabbed their Poké Balls.
Misty was first. "Let's go, Wooper!"
In a flash of light, Wooper landed on the battlefield—right into a patch of thick, sticky mud.
"Woop! Woop!"
The little blue amphibian flailed excitedly, wiggling its tiny feet in the soft, damp terrain. The moment it realized it could splash around, it began bouncing up and down, spraying mud everywhere like a child in a puddle.
"Come on, focus!"
Wooper gave a tiny salute with its tail.
Gary, meanwhile, smirked and released his own Pokémon. "Time to shine, Nidorina!"
The moment Nidorina landed on the field, she let out a sharp growl, her ears twitching in alertness. The poison-type carried herself with calculated precision, eyes narrowing at Wooper's mud-covered antics.
The referee raised a hand. "Battle, begin!"
"Rain Dance!" Misty commanded.
Wooper clapped its tiny feet together, spun on one leg, then broke out into a ridiculous, energetic breakdance. Flipping onto its back, it kicked up mud, sending droplets everywhere as a dark cloud formed overhead. Within seconds, heavy rain began to pour, soaking the battlefield as Wooper twirled, utterly delighted.
"Did it really have to breakdance?"
"No. It just likes doing that."
Gary snorted. "Fine. Let's ruin its fun—Blizzard!"
Nidorina inhaled sharply, frosty air swirling into her mouth. With a roar, she unleashed a howling, icy wind, the temperature on the battlefield plummeting instantly. The rain transformed mid-air, each droplet crystallizing into sharp, pelting hailstones as the battlefield became coated in sheets of ice. Wooper yelped, slipping slightly as ice formed over the once-muddy ground.
The terrain advantage was gone.
Gary grinned. "That's right—mud ain't gonna help ya now!"
Misty's eyes darted across the field. Think. "Wooper—Brick Break! On the floor!"
Wooper hopped forward, its forehead glowing a bright white as it reared back. With all its strength, it slammed its skull straight into the ice. Cracks splintered outward, but—
"Aerial Ace!" Gary shouted.
Nidorina darted forward, white streaks of energy igniting along her frame. The slippery ice beneath her acted like a launch pad, sending her rocketing forward at an unnatural speed. Before Wooper could shatter the terrain, Nidorina slammed into it like a cannonball.
The little blue Pokémon soared backward, flipping end over end before crashing into the frozen ground.
Misty gasped. Wooper groaned, barely able to push itself up.
Gary smirked. "What now, water girl?"
Misty took a breath. "All right, then. Come at us."
Gary's brow furrowed. "What?"
Misty put on her best 'helpless' expression, feigning nervousness.
Gary's smirk widened. "Fine by me. Fury Swipes!"
Nidorina dashed forward, claws glinting. Just as she was about to strike, Wooper suddenly lunged forward, its tiny head smashing into Nidorina's stomach. A burst of green energy surged from the impact, siphoning orbs of vitality from Nidorina's body into Wooper's own.
Gary's eyes widened. "Drain Punch?!"
Misty smirked. "Gotcha."
Gary gritted his teeth. But—he still had one last ace. Nidorina staggered backward, but her body suddenly shook violently, an unnatural purple glow creeping along Wooper's body.
Poison.
Gary grinned. "You got a lucky hit—but too bad for you, Wooper's poisoned!"
Misty's smirk didn't fade.
"That's exactly what I wanted."
"Wait—"
"Facade!"
Wooper's body ignited with a fiery orange aura, its form pulsating with unstable energy. The moment poison entered its system, its attack power doubled. Wooper charged.
"Blizzard, now!" Gary shouted, panic setting in.
Nidorina unleashed another howling storm, ice and snow surging forward in a desperate attempt to stop Wooper, but it was too late. The orange glow cut through the storm, Wooper plowing straight through the ice-cold winds without slowing down.
CRASH.
Wooper collided head-on with Nidorina. The impact sent her flying, her body rolling to a stop at Gary's feet.
Silence.
"That… was amazing." Gary returned Nidorina to her Poké Ball, shaking his head with a small smirk. But then, his eyes drifted back to the battlefield.
Wooper wasn't moving.
The little Pokémon remained standing, its tiny feet planted firmly in the icy terrain. But the spirals in its eyes said it all.
A double KO.
The crowd held its breath, murmurs rippling through the audience as the referee hesitated, stepping forward to consult the camera crew.
A minute passed, then a sharp whistle pierced the air.
"After video review, it has been confirmed that Wooper was knocked out inside Nidorina's Blizzard but still managed to finish its attack by throwing its momentum forward. As such—" The blue flag shot into the air. "Victory goes to Gary Oak!"
The crowd roared.
Gary let out a breath, then turned back to Misty. "Your Wooper was incredible," he said, genuine admiration in his voice. "Throwing his weight forward even after he was knocked out… That's real guts."
Misty smiled, clutching Wooper's Poké Ball in her hands. "He was amazing. I couldn't have asked for more."
As she looked down at the Poké Ball, she could feel it—Wooper was ready. Ready to evolve. She could sense it just as clearly as she had with Starmie back when she first started battling.
Gary held out a hand. "Rematch sometime?"
"Count on it."
They shook hands just as the buzzer rang, signaling Gary moving onto the next round. The crowd's cheers only grew louder. Misty returned to the locker area for a ten-minute rest, where Austin was already waiting. A water bottle in hand.
"Amazing match, as always," he said, handing it over.
She took it gratefully, taking a long drink before sitting down, placing Wooper's Poké Ball onto the tray that would be sent to the Pokémon Center. As she exhaled, she glanced at him. "I heard the thief almost got caught."
Austin hummed, clearly lost in his own thoughts.
Misty raised an eyebrow. "What are you plotting now?"
A small pause.
"Misty," Austin said, his voice calm, serious. "Can you do something for me?"
"Of course. What is it?"
He met her gaze. "I need you to throw the next match."
Silence.
Misty stared at him, and Austin didn't flinch.
"…Okay." Misty took another sip of water, not breaking eye contact.
Austin exhaled, but he could still see the unspoken questions in her expression.
"I know that sounds crazy, but you remember how I said I had my own reasons for helping you become a Gym Leader?"
Misty nodded.
"Well," Austin continued, choosing his words carefully, "this… relates to that."
"Are you finally gonna clue me in?"
Austin took a deep breath. "I want to save a Pokémon from its trainer's abuse."
Misty stilled.
Austin leaned forward, voice lowering as he spun a web of half-truths—carefully weaving truth and lies into something that felt real. He told her about Damien. About how the rich brat mistreated his Charmander, how he abandoned it in the rain, and how this tournament was his one shot at exposing him. The key, Austin explained, was that Damien's father was powerful. If they simply reported the abuse, the rich bastard could bribe his way out.
But if they exposed him in a public tournament, where cameras were rolling, where he couldn't lie his way out…
Misty listened intently, her fists clenching on her knees.
Austin knew she was furious. Furious that a trainer could be so cruel. Furious that the rich could get away so easily.
"So, throwing the match is how we get to him?"
Austin nodded. "It's the only way to guarantee Damien makes it into the next round, and I have a plan that will make sure that Damien gets what he deserves."
"You should've just led with that."
Austin let out a relieved laugh.
She took another sip of water. "Alright. Let's teach this loser a lesson."
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
The moment Damien stepped onto the battlefield, Misty felt her stomach churn.
He looked exactly as Austin described. Arrogant. Entitled. A cocky sneer stretched across his face as he scanned Misty up and down, his eyes filled with the kind of disgusting confidence that made her want to punch him. He opened his mouth, and she immediately hated him more.
"What's with that look, bitch?" Damien scoffed, his lips curling into a mocking grin. "If you think playing hard to get is gonna make me interested, then think again."
Misty's grip tightened around her Poké Ball.
The disgust in her eyes must have been clear because Damien laughed. "You girls always think you're so high and mighty, huh?" he taunted. "Let's see if you're still talkin' after I crush you."
Misty's scowl deepened. She wanted to beat him. She wanted to destroy him. But she thought of Charmander. She thought of Austin's plan. She took a breath, forcing herself to relax.
The referee stepped in.
"Start the match, or forfeit."
Damien rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Let's get this over with."
Misty took a deep breath and threw her Poké Ball into the air.
"Magikarp, let's show them our power!"
With a flash of light, the orange fish Pokémon materialized in the muddy battlefield, flopping onto the damp surface. It blinked its vacant eyes and gave a small, seemingly harmless splash.
The crowd was excited to see their favorite in action.
Meanwhile, laughter—loud and mocking—came from Damien.
"PFFT—Are you serious?!" he barked, doubling over. "This has to be the biggest joke of a tournament I've ever seen! You expect me to take this seriously? A freaking Magikarp?"
The sneering behind him grew as his lackeys snickered, nudging each other.
Misty's blood boiled.
She gritted her teeth, holding back every urge to snap at him. She didn't need to. Because Damien's smugness evaporated the second he released his own Pokémon.
A Charmander.
A small, timid-looking lizard appeared on the battlefield, its bright orange scales gleaming under the stadium lights.
The moment its feet sank into the muddy terrain, its body tensed. Its claws sank deep into the ground, and it let out a soft, uneasy whimper. It wasn't used to this terrain. Misty saw it immediately. Damien didn't care.
"What are you freezing up for?!" Damien barked. "Use Ember! End this!"
Charmander flinched at the tone but took a deep breath, summoning small flickers of fire in its throat, and launched a series of small glowing embers toward Magikarp.
"Dragon Rage!"
Magikarp's body tensed as it released a ball of draconic energy that collided mid-air with the Ember attack. The sheer force of it dispersed the flames, pushing Charmander back slightly.
The battlefield fell silent.
Damien's face twisted in shock. "W-What the hell was that?!"
His arrogance cracked, and for the first time—there was fear.
"Stop being afraid, you useless lizard!" he snapped, voice laced with fury.
Charmander froze mid-step, its wide eyes snapping toward its trainer.
The small flicker of confidence it had—shattered. The fear in its expression wasn't because of Misty's Magikarp. It was because of Damien. And Magikarp saw it. Something snapped inside the fish Pokémon.
For days, Magikarp had been training, fighting, pushing itself under Misty's care. It had battled opponents, gained strength, and evolved in skill. But what it saw in Charmander struck a nerve. It saw itself. The disdain. The ridicule. The sheer lack of belief. The emotion that surged inside Magikarp was pure, burning fury. The light of evolution erupted.
The entire arena flooded in a pillar of brilliant, blinding white light.
The stadium fell dead silent as Magikarp's form expanded—its once small, fragile body stretching longer and longer, its scales darkening into a deep, rich blue. The ground trembled beneath it as the glow faded, revealing a Gyarados. A massive, draconic sea serpent loomed over the battlefield, its body coiled tightly, towering over the frozen Charmander.
The air itself seemed heavier.
Gyarados roared.
A thunderous, bone-rattling sound shook the entire gym.
The sheer force of its voice sent a gust of wind rippling across the stadium, blowing back loose dirt and even making some spectators flinch in their seats. Damien? He fell backward onto his ass. His face turned pale. His entire body trembled. A dark stain began spreading across his pants.
Austin, watching from the stands, grinned. "Oh wow." He muttered, nudging Pikachu. "Didn't even need Thunderbolt."
Pikachu snickered.
But while Damien quaked in terror—Charmander didn't.
Despite its fear, despite its trainer's verbal abuse, it stood its ground. It squared its tiny shoulders, claws digging into the damp ground as its eyes hardened. With a deep breath, it opened its mouth and released a thick, green beam of energy.
Dragon Breath.
The attack soared toward Gyarados, striking the massive serpent directly in the face.
Gasps rang out.
For a brief moment, Misty felt her heart lurch.
Gyarados—a newly evolved Pokémon—hadn't been tested yet. Most trainers struggled to control their Gyarados after evolution. Gyarados simply… stared. The attack did nothing. No rage. No wild thrashing.
Instead, Gyarados slowly turned its gaze to Misty and nodded. That was all the confirmation she needed. Gyarados wasn't a mindless beast. It was her Pokémon.
With exaggerated slowness, Gyarados let out a low, playful grumble and fell over. Flat onto the muddy pool. Pretending to be knocked out.
Silence. Utter, unfiltered disbelief.
Someone in the crowd finally murmured. "Did… Did Charmander just beat a Gyarados?"
Professor Oak, watching from the side, felt a single tear slide down his cheek. A Gyarados had evolved without losing control and it had been caught on live television. This—this was history. And yet, despite the scientific breakthrough, a single question nagged at his mind. Why had Misty thrown this match?
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With Magikarp's evolution into Gyarados, Professor Oak and his research team should have had enough data to pack up and leave.
But they didn't.
The old man had insisted they stay longer, claiming they needed to observe Gyarados further.
Austin, however, knew better.
Professor Oak wasn't just here for the research anymore.
He wanted answers. No one said it aloud, but the question loomed over them like a storm cloud. Why had Misty and Gyarados thrown the match against Charmander?
It made no sense—Gyarados had evolved, it had the sheer power and presence to wipe the floor with Damien and his Charmander. And yet, it fell over, playing defeated when it wasn't even fazed.
Austin could already see the gears turning in the professor's mind.
And Oak wasn't an idiot.
Eventually, he would realize the truth. That Charmander was in the hands of an abuser.
Would he let it go? Would he do something?
Austin wasn't sure.
"Umbreon."
Vee's soft, smooth call pulled the boy's attention as he glanced down, finding the Moonlight Pokémon curled in his lap.
He scratched between Umbreon's ears, the sleek black fur warm and soft beneath his fingertips. The Pokémon let out a pleased hum, flicking its tail as Austin reached for his wine glass filled with grape juice.
Vee, sensing the movement, perked up.
With slow, deliberate movements, it leaned forward, dipping its muzzle into the rim of the glass. Its tongue flicked just beneath the surface, skimming the liquid before pulling back, savoring the taste.
"Told you you'd like it."
Vee simply huffed, licking its lips before tilting its head expectantly—waiting for another sip.
The moment, however, was cut short. A gust of wind swept through the room, carrying the faint sound of something floating.
Austin didn't flinch.
His eyes remained forward, watching as Green made her dramatic entrance through the open window, her Jigglypuff inflated like a balloon, keeping her suspended in the air. She landed lightly, giving an exaggerated stretch before placing a hand on her hip. "If you were going for the mafia boss look, you failed."
Austin exhaled through his nose, barely glancing at her. "I wasn't."
Green smirked. "Oh? Don't back down now, boss man—caught you red-handed."
She motioned lazily toward him.
A boy sitting in the dark, dressed in pajamas, a wine glass in one hand, and a dark-furred Pokémon curled in his lap. Classic boss aesthetic. Except… it was grape juice. And his sleepwear had little Poké Ball patterns on it.
"Okay, maybe you weren't going for the look."
Austin took a slow sip, then set the glass down. "Oh, I was."
Green let out a light giggle, but her expression shifted subtly. Her shoulders stiffened slightly because something felt… off. Her eyes flicked around the dimly lit room, scanning the shadows. She was good—her instincts told her this wasn't just a casual chat.
This was a set-up. And she wasn't wrong.
Austin clapped his hands.
Instantly, the lights flicked on. Green found herself surrounded. Pikachu sat perched nearby, eyes sharp, ready to strike. A Quick Claw dangled around Rattata's neck, the small rodent poised in a crouch, ready to intercept her at a moment's notice. On the far side, Horsea rested in a bowl of water, her tiny eyes focused like a sniper.
Green's heart skipped a beat. She was a trapped animal.
"Return."
The command was soft but immediate, and every Pokémon vanished into their Poké Balls.
Austin leaned forward, resting an elbow on the chair's armrest. "Let's start over," he said smoothly, gesturing toward the untouched glass. "Juice?"
Green crossed her arms, eyes still sharp. "I don't drink anything I haven't poured myself."
"Fair." Austin nodded. "I wouldn't either."
Green's lips tugged up slightly. "So, let's skip the pleasantries." She tilted her head. "What do you want?"
Austin reached into his jacket pocket and slid three photos across the table. Jessie. James. Meowth.
"I need you to investigate Team Rocket."
"Oh?"
"Find out why they're here. What they're planning. Who's the executive leading the operation."
Green picked up a photo, examining it.
Austin continued. "These three work here in the morning—use your disguises, sneak into the base as one of them, and get me the information I need."
Green remained silent, turning the photos slowly in her hands, yet her mind was on the guy in front of her.
A boy who was too young to act this old. Someone who looked like an idiot but knew too much. A kid who spoke like he had seen things most people never would. He knew about the Masked Man. And now, he was going after Team Rocket.
"Who are you?"
Austin paused, watching the shift in Green's posture.
The femme fatale of Pokémon was walking on eggshells around him. That alone was proof—she wasn't sure how to play this. And that was dangerous, because Green was the kind of person who needed to feel in control.
She didn't trust people. She didn't play by their rules.
And right now?
Austin had all the cards.
That needed to change. If he wanted Green as an ally—not just for this job, but for the future—he had to give her something. A way to feel like she was pulling the strings. So, he gave her a piece of the game.
"I'm… Bag Boy."
Green nodded once.
"You don't know who that is," Austin stated flatly, watching her.
Green kept nodding. Faster now.
"Vee."
At the name, his Umbreon—who had been lounging lazily in his lap—gave him a look. A very pointed, annoyed look—one that all but screamed, Do we really have to do this?
Austin's stare didn't waver. With a dramatic huff, Vee leapt down from Austin's lap, landing on the floor with graceful ease. His body shimmered. Dark fur glowed, shifting colors in an instant. The sleek, black-coated Umbreon melted away, morphing into a familiar cream-colored Eevee.
Green's eyes widened slightly.
Another glow. A rush of heat. And then—standing before her wasn't an Eevee anymore. It was a Flareon. Flames flickered around Vee's crimson fur, his thick tail swishing with practiced indifference. The smug little bastard even let out a small puff of fire, just to make a point.
"Holy—"
Austin leaned back, casually swirling his grape juice. "You asked who I was, Green," he said smoothly. "Let's just say… I'm someone you need to keep close."