"Grandpa Fuji, so Team Rocket is waiting near Route 8, west of Lavender Town, right?"
The morning after Charmander's stunning victory over Munchlax, Ethan Carter stood outside the Pokémon House, the crisp air carrying the scent of breakfast still lingering behind them. Charmander, perched at his side, stretched his arms with a small, determined grunt.
Fuji nodded, though his brow furrowed with unease. "Yes. They said once we get there, we'll 'know.' But the time limit is strict—before three o'clock this afternoon."
Ethan glanced at the old man. "Don't worry, Grandpa Fuji. With Charmander and me there, nothing will go wrong."
He patted his chest in mock bravado. Charmander, catching the gesture, puffed up and smacked his own chest with both tiny claws.
Fuji's lips softened into the ghost of a smile. But beneath it, his worry lingered. Charmander had crushed Munchlax without breaking a sweat—but Team Rocket was something else entirely.
What Fuji didn't know was that Ethan's calm front masked a storm. He had no idea how many Rockets he'd face or how strong they'd be. And Lena's safety wasn't his only concern. The Shiny Charmander's Poké Ball was with her. Without it, the system wouldn't acknowledge Charmander as his own—no matter how much training or trust he built.
If I can't get that Poké Ball back, he thought grimly, everything I've done these past days will be for nothing.
For a fleeting, dangerous moment, a thought slipped into his mind. If I fail… could I join Team Rocket?
He dismissed it immediately, shaking his head. "What am I thinking? I haven't even started yet, and I'm planning my retreat?"
Still, he wasn't going in blind. He pulled out his phone and sent a discreet message to every trainer he'd befriended in Lavender Town. They were to scatter along Route 8, hiding in the tall grass or pretending to hunt wild Pokémon. If things went sideways, they would see his signal—a single Dragon Breath shot into the sky.
An hour and a half later, Ethan, Fuji, and Charmander stepped onto Route 8. The stretch of road was eerily empty. No travelers. No merchants. Even the wind seemed to pass through in silence.
Ethan scanned the area. "Didn't they say we'd 'know' when we got here? I don't see—"
The words cut off as two figures emerged from the eastern treeline.
The first was a man with a close-cropped crew cut, clad in a black uniform emblazoned with a crimson R. A Houndoom padded at his side, its eyes glinting with predatory intelligence.
Beside him was a short-haired woman in the same uniform, her Arbok coiling and uncoiling restlessly on the dirt.
"Hello, Dr. Fuji," the man said smoothly. "We're here to escort you. Name's Takashi."
The woman's voice followed, cool and measured. "Heihua."
Fuji took a half-step forward, voice sharp with urgency. "Where's Lena? You haven't harmed her, have you?"
Heihua's lips curled into a polite smile. "Relax. Miss Lena is perfectly safe—for now. Give us what we want, and she'll be returned immediately."
Her hand swept toward the forest in invitation. "This way, please."
As they walked, Ethan's gaze flicked between the two Pokémon. His system interface flared:
Pokémon: Houndoom
Level: 24 (Qualification: Normal)
Ability: Flash Fire
Moves: Leer (24%), Ember (26%), Bite (18%), Smog (15%)
Pokémon: Arbok
Level: 22 (Qualification: Normal)
Ability: Shed Skin
Moves: Wrap (23%), Poison Sting (18%), Glare (17%), Acid (15%)
Ethan's tension eased slightly. Higher level than Charmander, yes—but their move proficiency and qualifications were nothing special. A fair fight wouldn't be hopeless.
That's when Takashi's eyes narrowed at Charmander. "A Shiny? Worth a fortune…" The greed in his gaze was naked, and when Ethan met it, the man's expression shifted from hunger to challenge.
Ethan ignored him.
Fifteen minutes later, the forest opened to a small, grassy hill.
And there she was—Lena, seated on the ground. Behind her stood a bald, heavily built man with an unmistakable air of authority. At his feet rested a Poké Ball that caught the morning light.
Beside him hovered a Golbat—larger than most, fangs gleaming, its wings stirring the air in restless beats.
Pokémon: Golbat
Level: 30 (Qualification: Elite)
Ability: Inner Focus
Moves: Screech (34%), Astonish (25%), Bite (28%), Wing Attack (25%), Confuse Ray (25%), Air Cutter (22%)
Ethan's jaw tightened. Fifteen levels above Charmander, with elite qualifications and high move proficiency. A straight fight would be suicide.
"Dr. Fuji," the bald man greeted warmly, "it's been a long time. Do you remember me?"
Fuji frowned, searching his memory, then shook his head. "I'm old. Faces fade."
"No offense taken," the man said easily. "Back then, I was just another nobody in the experiment. My name's Tem—mid-level Team Rocket manager now. Boss Giovanni himself gave me this assignment."
Ethan caught Fuji's eye, giving the smallest of nods. Fuji blinked, then felt something pressed into his palm—a small, purple box.
Before he could question it, Ethan lifted Fuji's hand and raised his voice. "Brother Tem, here's what you want. We hand this over, and you hand Lena over—at the same time."
Tem's eyes lit with anticipation. "Fine by me."
He pulled Lena to her feet, nudging her forward.
The exchange was smooth—too smooth. Ethan took Lena's arm, guiding her quickly toward Fuji, lowering his voice. "Is Charmander's Poké Ball on you? I need it."
"Yes, it's—" She stopped, patting her pockets. Confusion darkened her face. "Wait… no. It's not here."
Ethan's head snapped toward where she'd been sitting. There, in plain sight, lay the Poké Ball.
Behind them, Tem's roar shattered the air. "You little brat! You dare hand me an Oran Berry and call it a deal?!"
The real fight was about to begin.