The Team Yell members stood with their mouths open, yet no sound came out. They all stared at Liepard as it bolted away.
They also had no idea about what was going on with Piers. Silas hadn't mentioned anything about Felix, only telling them to cheer for his son at the right time.
Not giving commands to his Pokémon, Pokémon refusing to obey, a Pokémon outright betraying its trainer…
Even these grunts, who often skirted the edges of shady business, couldn't make sense of it. This was the first time they had seen something like this.
Many of them were starting to believe what the host had said. A father and son teaming up to throw a match, using a few disobedient Gym-level Pokémon… that did fit the style of their Spikemuth Gym.
The real issue was that this wasn't some deserted wilderness, nor was it a normal day in town where the gym could cover up anything and no one else was around.
Usually, they'd all rush in, gang up on whoever dared mess with Piers, beat the person up, and then go back bragging to the Gym Leader about it.
But this was a live broadcast of the Gym Challenge. The League people were here, the TV crew was here… who would be dumb enough to cause trouble now?
And that Gym-level Corviknight was still standing right there. A real, no-doubt-about-it Gym-level Corviknight.
Team Yell might act reckless most of the time, but they knew their place. They were just small-time thugs who only acted tough because they had backing. Roughing up ordinary trainers passing by or pushing around residents with no connections was one thing. But going against the League or a Gym-level trainer? That was just asking to die young.
So they all stood there like statues, silent, not caring about whatever embarrassment Piers was bringing upon himself. The Gym leader wasn't around anyway.
From a corner at the front, Marnie crossed her arms and let out a cold snort. "Pathetic…"
At her voice, the Team Yell members turned to look. When they saw who it was, they quickly looked away again.
Not their problem.
* * *
Outside Spikemuth, in a patch of wild forest.
It was nearly a kilometer away from the battlefield at the Route 9 intersection. Under normal circumstances, no one would come here.
Above the forest, faint, shimmering psychic waves distorted the air. Within it stood Felix and his Malamar.
When he realized Piers was trying to find him, he slipped away to a secluded area, released his Pokémon, and used Psybeam and Teleport to leave the scene immediately.
He wasn't about to leave any opening for the League to catch him on the spot. Running right away was the safest choice.
With Malamar at his side, he could still use its psychic powers to communicate with Pokémon from a distance.
"Take all the Poké Balls from Piers. Don't hurt anyone. Liepard, make it quick. Hurry," Felix said softly, glancing in the direction of Route 9's battlefield.
Once he saw a sleek, purple figure sprinting toward him, he smiled.
"Good. Liepard, well done."
In the blink of an eye, Felix and Malamar vanished and reappeared in front of Liepard. He took the six Poké Balls from its mouth.
Liepard had brought every single Poké Ball from Piers, even the ones that were his own.
"Consider this payment for lending you mine," Felix murmured, looking toward Spikemuth again, a trace of frustration in his eyes.
To pull off his escape and take over as the Spikemuth Gym Leader, he needed Macro Cosmos' backing, which meant he'd have to join them fully. But with Shiro standing in the way, the first step, getting Piers into the Champion Cup, had already failed. The rest of the plan was as good as dead.
Still, there might be another chance somewhere...
Felix's gaze flickered in the dim forest.
* * *
Hammerlocke, in front of the Pokémon Center by the stadium.
Shouts and jeers filled the air around Rylan and Raihan. On the big screen, the TV host was giving his perfect commentary on Piers' suspected match-fixing.
"Can't even control his Pokémon and still sends it out? This Piers really has no shame!"
"Where do you think those Gym-level Pokémon came from?"
"Bought them? Or his dad gave them to him? All Dark-types too. He can't even handle his dad's Pokémon."
"Who knows. Good thing the League sent out that notice right away."
"Damn it, they should just lock that guy up!"
Rylan felt a twinge of irritation. As he stood up, he noticed that the police officers who were supposed to be outside keeping order had squeezed into the crowd. Their captain, Woods, was right behind him. Their eyes met.
"Heh..." Woods let out an awkward chuckle. He'd come in because he'd heard the commotion about match-fixing and disobedient Pokémon. The more he heard, the juicier it sounded, so he pushed his way through to watch.
The officers who had been yelling a moment ago went quiet as soon as they saw Rylan. They used gestures and eye signals to shut up the nearby loudmouths too.
Leaning in, Woods whispered, "Lord Rylan, I've known from the start that he was fixing the match. Guess I got a little carried away."
"I thought you just joined recently. How would you know from the start?" Rylan cut straight through the flimsy excuse.
Woods could only give another awkward laugh. Before he could fumble for an answer, the sight of Piers's blank, lifeless face on the screen caught his eye.
"Lord Rylan, look at him..."
* * *
Piers wanted to bury himself in a trash heap.
The instant Liepard's silhouette disappeared from sight, every eye turned back to him. Nobody expected him to pull off this many unbelievable stunts in such a short time.
Using a Pokémon that wasn't his and rigging matches wasn't anything new in itself. But doing it this badly, with Pokémon he couldn't control, and then having one rob him in front of everyone, was something else entirely.
When all his Poké Balls were gone, a wave of danger and emptiness hit him. Only then did he realize just what he'd done, and where: right in the middle of an important Gym Challenge match.
Looking around, he saw nothing but eyes filled with disdain, mockery, amusement, and pity. That smug host, still spouting nonsense, walked toward him with a mocking smile and a raised microphone.
Piers felt even more lost.
How had it turned into this?
Wasn't he supposed to win every match, get all eight badges, make it to the Champion Cup, and then... Where was Uncle Felix? Uncle, where are you?
His mind was empty.
"Ah..." Shiro, as his opponent, could only sigh helplessly. He recalled Corviknight without another word.
This poor guy had no idea how he'd ended up like this, but he had to know the source. He knew exactly where those disobedient Pokémon had come from.
It was just bad luck, but deserved.
If Piers had fought with his own Advanced-level Pokémon, giving his all, Shiro would have met him with full strength and treated him as a worthy opponent.
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