Iron Valiant's win was almost effortless.
The livestream chat froze for a full three seconds—then the screen flooded like a tidal wave:
"What else is there to say? Besides damn, my vocabulary's got nothing left!"
"Iron Valiant didn't take a scratch. Even paralysis couldn't make him take damage—how is that fair?"
"It isn't—but it happened. I hereby declare Jason the new God of Paldea!"
"Larry did everything he could, really. Tactics, typing, status, Terastallize—used it all. The other side just pulled out 'one force smashes ten tricks.'"
"Say no more—I'm looking up how to get an Iron Valiant. I'll sell the house if I have to!"
After a long silence, the arena crowd finally erupted into thunderous applause and cheers. It was for the victor, Jason—but also for Larry, who lost with honor.
In that roar, Iron Valiant stood unusually calm at center stage. The fierce battle aura around him slowly folded back into his body. He glanced at the fallen Staraptor, then turned and walked back to Jason with steady steps.
Jason looked at him, a little puzzled. "What's wrong? Win and you're still not happy?"
Iron Valiant sighed. "Too easy. Didn't get to enjoy it."
His tone was level, stating a fact—no boasting, no belittling the opponent, just honest feeling. Born to fight, he hadn't found the bout satisfying.
Jason's smile turned a touch helpless. "Got it, got it," he answered inwardly.
"Hmph. Wins a match and still not satisfied," Gast muttered, floating circles around Iron Valiant. A faint sour note crept into her voice. This was a perfect show-off moment, and the stoic lug had taken it—and acted like he hadn't even tried. Annoying.
But when she saw how tight his posture still was, she swallowed the rest. He really hadn't fought enough to his liking.
Just then, Larry stepped down from the dais. He'd recalled Staraptor. The razor edge of a strong man had faded from his face; the white shirt, tie, and exhausted office-worker look returned. Adjusting his glasses and straightening a rumpled collar, he walked up to Jason—badge in hand.
Two crossed green fronds gleamed under the lights—the Medali Gym Badge.
"Congratulations, Jason—another gym badge earned." His professional smile was polite but distant; his voice back to calm. "Your strength opened my eyes. As per the rules, here's proof of victory."
He held it out. Cameras and drones zoomed in to catch the moment.
Jason took the badge—then seemed to remember something. He looked up at Larry, calm as ever.
It had to be said: looking at this man, no one would guess. Not only a gym leader—he was an Elite Four, wasn't he?
Larry blinked, puzzled. "What is it?"
"Iron Valiant says he hasn't had his fill."
Larry's hand paused, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. Before he could ask, Jason continued:
"So, Mr. Larry—could you send out your Elite Four Pokémon and fight us again?"
Elite Four.
The two words rang out clear from Jason's mouth—and the raucous arena went pin-drop silent. The waterfall of chat comments stalled in the same instant. Every eye turned to Larry.
"Is Jason going to challenge the Elite Four right now?"
"Who—Larry? Isn't he a gym leader?"
"He is—and he's also Elite Four~"
"So what we just saw wasn't his true strength?"
Larry slowly, slowly lifted his head and looked at Jason. For the first time, a chilling light flashed behind the lenses of his glasses. Weariness, indifference, detachment—all gone. In their place: a half-smile with razor edges.
"Oh?"
The single syllable carried clearly to every seat. "You know my other job?"
His whole aura changed in a heartbeat. His spine straightened; shoulders opened. A powerful presence spread from him. If he'd been a burned-out office drone before, now he was a raptor on the highest perch, claws sheathed, watching prey—ready to strike.
The shift was so stark it sent a shiver through everyone watching. People in the stands leaned back unconsciously, as if to put distance between themselves and this dangerous man.
Larry ignored the stir. His gaze never left Jason. The smile on his face deepened. "Interesting. Very interesting." He flexed his wrists—crack, crack. "How did you know? I thought my salaryman act was pretty solid."
Jason didn't answer. Larry didn't press. He adjusted his tie and chuckled. "Alright—since you've seen through it, keeping up the act is pointless."
He turned and headed for the passage. "You want to face me as an Elite Four, right?" His voice no longer tired or hoarse—full and steady. He didn't look back, only left a straight, confident back.
"Normally you'd clear the gyms before the Elite Four—but I think your strength is more than enough. I accept your challenge!"
"But be careful."
"As an Elite Four, I'm much stronger than I am as a gym leader."
His figure vanished into shadow, but his words echoed around the arena, raising a collective chill.
"You're kidding—that wasn't even full power?"
"Is the gap between gym leader and Elite Four really that big?"
"My worldview just shook. What were we even cheering just now?"
The stream chat exploded—speculation, analysis—scrolling so fast the servers hiccuped.
"Did Jason kick a hornet's nest—forcing Larry's boss form to come out?"
"This is insane—best stream I've seen in ages!"
"Quick—anyone know Flying Elite Larry's usual lineup? Break it down!"
Amid the uproar, it was unusually quiet at Jason's side. Gast hovered by his shoulder, violet eyes wide. She leaned in, whispering in disbelief, "Jason, that guy—that sleepy-looking uncle—he's really the Elite Four you meant?"
She still struggled to connect the exhausted salaryman with the title "Elite Four." Jason nodded, face steady. "Yep." He glanced at the passage Larry had taken. "He's not only Medali's gym leader. He's Paldea's Flying Elite—Larry."
Gast sucked in a breath. Now she understood why Jason had taken this match so seriously—and benched her for Iron Valiant. The opponent had never been "just" a gym leader.
Iron Valiant stood silent on Jason's other side, red eyes locked on the passage ahead, battle intent hotter than ever.
"Elite Four, huh? Looks like things are about to get interesting."
Then the arena itself changed. The walls sank away, replaced by wraparound mega-screens. They lit up to a boundless, cloudless sky; the ground underfoot rippled into the texture of high-altitude cloudbanks. Power gusts blew from hidden vents, making it feel like ten thousand meters up.
A special field for Flying-type battles.
And the man who'd left—returned. Larry stepped back into view. The white shirt and slacks were gone, replaced by a dark, mobile jacket and tailored utility pants. His hair was pushed back, exposing a clear brow. The glasses were absent; without lenses, his eyes were razor-sharp.
If he'd been a sheathed dull blade before, now he was drawn steel—edge bared.
He took the far dais, facing Jason across the field. "Sorry to keep you waiting." His voice was firm, carrying an undeniable confidence.
"As thanks for outing me, I'll show you the true might of Paldea's Elite Four."
He took a special ball from his belt—different from before. "Go—Tropius!"
He threw. With a heavy bellow, a huge shape appeared overhead—a sauropod-like Pokémon with four broad, banana-leaf wings sprouting from its back and a bunch of tempting bananas hanging from its chin. Tropius: Grass/Flying. Its bulk cast a long shadow, a heavy pressure rolling off it.
Jason's gaze stayed calm. He glanced at Iron Valiant. "Continue?"
Iron Valiant nodded and stepped to center again. The ref drew a breath and called it:
"Elite Four challenge—begin!"
Larry's mouth curved with confidence. He didn't rush to strike. An arm swept, first call out: "Sunny Day!"
Tropius roared; a brilliant orb shot from its mouth to the simulated sky and burst—light blazing down. The field brightened to harsh noon; heat rose sharply.
"Changing weather at the start?"
"Sun team—one of Elite Larry's cores!"
"I remember—Tropius's ability is Chlorophyll! Under sun, Speed doubles!"
Veteran Trainers in the stands read it at once. Sure enough, in the blazing light, Tropius's once-heavy body lightened; leaf-wings beat faster, the whole form a green afterimage streaking the sky.
Iron Valiant found himself struggling to track the speed—head turning as he tried to follow that flickering green shape.
"Air Slash!" Larry's order was concise and lethal. Tropius snapped its wings; sickle-moons of high-pressure air sliced in from all sides, sealing every escape.
"Protect," Jason's voice came on time. The green barrier bloomed again.
Bang, bang, bang! The dense blades hammered the shield with glass-crack sounds—then shattered it in two seconds. Most of the blades died there, but a few strays clipped Iron Valiant, scoring shallow lines in the silver armor.
Iron Valiant looked down at the scratches; his gaze hardened.
"Keep pressure—don't let it breathe! Solar Beam!" Larry's direction turned predatory. Tropius spiraled, jaw yawning—sunlight poured to its mouth. Under Sunny Day, the usual charge vanished—instant fire.
A thick white beam hot enough to melt steel blasted for Iron Valiant.
~~~
Patreon(.)com/Bleam
— Currently You can Read 50 Chapters Ahead of Others!