In the instant everyone was puzzled, Iron Valiant moved again.
He didn't retreat, nor did he dive away in a panic. He simply slid three steps to the left.
Power through his feet; a body-control no normal person could fathom—he glided sideways in a snap, clean and economical. Those three steps were measured to the millimeter.
Whoosh!
The white "meteor" scraped past his shoulder and slammed into where he'd been standing.
Boom!
A thunderous crash; turf and dirt flew as a shallow crater bloomed. Brave Bird's shock rattled the whole arena.
Dodged—just like that.
And it wasn't over.
As Braviary streaked by, Iron Valiant's right arm was already raised. Searing current had wrapped his fist at some point—gold arcs crackled, lighting his forearm like a beacon.
Thunder Punch!
"Now!" Jason's shout landed over the crackle.
Iron Valiant turned with the motion and drove the charged fist up from below—hammering the base of Braviary's wing the instant it hit the ground and locked up from the impact.
Thud!
Super effective!
Lightning flooded Braviary's frame on contact.
"Skreee!"
The raptor shrieked; its powerful body jolted, feathers standing on end. Black smoke puffed from the struck wing root. It tried to beat its wings again—nothing responded. Off-balance, it tumbled twice and lay flat in the crater it had made.
Another clean, single-hit finish.
Silence swallowed the arena again. If the first one-shot on Oinkologne stunned everyone with speed, this one—reading Brave Bird perfectly, then countering with a delayed Thunder Punch—hit them with a double shock of tactical insight and surgical execution.
Placement down to the centimeter. Timing to the heartbeat. And a perfectly chosen counter-type blow.
The referee gaped, then remembered his job and hurriedly raised his flag. "Braviary is unable to battle! Winner—Iron Valiant!"
Larry stared at the untouched, perfectly poised Iron Valiant. He slowly took off his glasses, polished them, and put them back on—his whole air changed. The salaryman fatigue vanished; seriousness and focus took its place. His gaze sharpened.
For many, the image of Braviary trailing smoke as it fell still lingered. If they didn't know Larry never throws fights, they might have called it staged.
Drones circled, lenses locked on the silver figure at center. The chat, after a 1-second freeze, exploded again:
"Two down! Another one-shot!"
"I rewatched the sidestep and Thunder Punch timing three times—no human pulls that off!"
"I'm starting to feel bad for Larry—wrong day to battle."
"Don't rush it—only the second. Larry's a 'master of the ordinary.' He wins by grinding people out with nasty, patient lines. Now he'll get serious."
The crowd found its voice again—this time with a heavier edge. Everyone could tell this was far more intense than they'd imagined.
On the dais, Larry recalled Braviary. He didn't send the next immediately—hand to his brow, eyes closed, face set. Speed. Power. Type pressure. Two very different plans; both blown apart absolutely. Iron Valiant was stronger than he'd estimated—stronger even than the Gengar. And Jason's calling made him feel a very real helplessness—every plan of his felt pre-read.
It was a bad feeling.
In past gym matches, Jason had let the Gengar run free. Now he'd fielded something stronger—and started commanding.
Is that because he respects me? Larry smirked wryly to himself.
"Haaah—"
He exhaled long, opened his eyes calm again—the forced composure of an adult under crushing pressure.
"If standard lines won't work, then it's time for the weird ones."
He drew his third ball. "Go, Komala."
With a flash, the log-hugging Pokémon appeared—looking as if it were always asleep. The mood lightened slightly.
"Komala! So cute!"
"One of Larry's aces—Comatose is nasty!"
"Right—permanently 'asleep,' so it can't get hit with any other status—and it can act in its sleep!"
"Here it comes—Larry's classic sleep game!"
Larry's eyes carried a touch of renewed confidence. No matter how fast or strong, once you're asleep you're done—and Komala is a lullaby master.
"Komala—Yawn." The order snapped out. Komala didn't even open its eyes—just yawned hugely. A visible ring of transparent sound rolled outward. Anyone it touched would, on the next turn, drown in drowsiness and sleep.
Against such a wide-area sleep cue, dodging meant little. The chat held its breath again.
"There it is!"
"How does Iron Valiant answer this—can it resist Yawn?"
"Tough—this one almost never misses."
Just as everyone thought Iron Valiant was about to be caught and forced passive, Jason's voice cut in again—calm and clipped:
"Taunt."
On the word, a hard gleam flashed in Iron Valiant's red optics. An invisible psychic shock snapped out—post-shot, pre-hit—striking Komala mid-yawn.
"Hm?"
The yawn cut short. Komala's log-hugging arms tightened; its body twitched for an instant.
Taunt landed.
Larry's face shifted. He knew exactly what that meant. For the next few turns, Komala couldn't use any status/defensive moves. His sleep plan hinged on Yawn to start, then Protect or Substitute to stall until sleep hit. Now Yawn was broken—and Protect/Sub blocked by Taunt too. The line was strangled in the crib.
"How—he even pre-read this?" Shock roiled in Larry's chest. If the first was coincidence and the second a hard counter, the third was pure foresight. The opponent's calling bordered on precognition.
Since when can a Ditto see the future?
The crowd and chat were briefly baffled:
"What happened—why did Yawn stop?"
"Taunt! My god, that call!"
"I get it—he never planned to cleanse Yawn. He cut it off at the source!"
"Kick the pot, cut the fuel—savage!"
By the time they caught up, their looks had shifted from admiration to awe.
Komala, de-cored, stood clutching its log, dazed—left with a few low-power physicals. Against Iron Valiant's defense, that was a training dummy.
Jason left no time to adjust. "Close Combat."
Three syllables sealed Komala's fate.
Iron Valiant became silver lightning again, rushing in. This time he didn't use blades—he used iron fists, elbows, knees—an unbroken storm of strikes. Thud! Thud! Thud! The heavy blows landed in dense succession; Komala couldn't even raise a guard, driven back and back until a final, crushing uppercut sent it—and its beloved log—flying, to crash down and lie still.
The ref's arm was numb from flagging. "K—Komala is unable to battle! Winner—still Iron Valiant!"
Three.
Larry had watched three Pokémon get cleanly one-shotted. The air felt frozen. No more chatter, no more gasps. Only eyes fixed on the sword-saint in silver and the Ditto on the sideline whose face had never changed.
Even Gast, for once, held her tongue—arms folded, violet eyes unblinking on Iron Valiant. She realized each move carried a distilled brutality—no extras, no hesitation, only the intent to drop the foe.
"This guy… got stronger again," she muttered.
Larry's face shifted from serious to grave. He recalled Komala, drew his fourth ball wordlessly; his hand trembled—pressure, not fear. No way back.
"Looks like I'll have to gamble it."
He drew a deep breath and threw his last hope. "I'm counting on you—Dudunsparce!"
A long-bodied Ground-type with tiny wings hit the field. Dudunsparce. Confusion rippled through the crowd. No standout Attack, no speed—what was the point now? Some thought its only merit was bulk.
Larry's eyes, however, were razor-focused. No hesitation—nearly simultaneous with the landing, he shouted:
"Serene Grace—Thunderbolt!"
Dudunsparce's small wings whirred; a glaring gold charge lit above its head. Serene Grace doubles secondary effects—and Thunderbolt can paralyze.
This was the last bet.
He'd seen it: Iron Valiant's dominance rode on unmatched speed. Cripple that, and there was a sliver of life.
A gold surge cracked from Dudunsparce's crown and nailed Iron Valiant before it moved.
Bzzzt—!
Lightning burst over that silver frame; a swarm of tiny arcs crawled across its surface. Iron Valiant jolted—stalled for a heartbeat.
Paralyzed!
"Got it!"
Hope flashed in Larry's eyes. The arena and stream erupted again:
"It landed! Thunderbolt procced!"
"Good omen—Iron Valiant's Speed halved, plus a 25% chance to be fully stopped!"
"This is the turning point! Larry's grabbed his last chance!"
~~~
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