The club doors opened, and out walked a man with a rooster-comb haircut.
Hands in his pockets, he glanced at the Ralts in Grey's arms and let out a scornful laugh.
Grey frowned—he knew him.
The man's name was Youmu.
Like Grey, he was a special guest trainer at the club center, but he'd never gotten along with Grey.
Long story short—here's the short version:
Youmu once harassed Nelly, and Grey beat him up for it.
That's where the grudge started.
Even so, seeing Youmu openly picking a fight today did catch Grey a little off guard.
Must have some kind of backup plan?
"Ral…"
Ralts trembled, not daring to meet Youmu's eyes, and burrowed deeper into Grey's arms to make itself smaller.
"Trash is trash. Can't even use Psychic powers. What's the point of living? Go die already!"
Youmu sneered.
The mockery in his eyes was something Ralts could feel.
It curled up in Grey's arms on the spot.
Seeing this, Youmu smiled even wider.
"Oh? You think hiding in that guy's arms will help?"
"A trash Pokémon with a trash-picking Gym Leader—what a pair. If I remember right, your Primeape was something you picked up off the street, wasn't it?"
Youmu stepped closer, hands still in his pockets, spewing spit as he ran his mouth.
Grey knit his brows. "A few days without a beating and you think you've grown a spine?"
"Tch. All you do is harp on the past, scavenger. Unlike you, I'm already out of your league!"
Compared to before, Youmu was cockier than ever, swaggering without fear. "It's just a Ralts—and one that can't even use Psychic! So what if you lose it? It's not worth anything!"
"Only a loser blames his own weakness on his Pokémon. Not that you could beat me anyway."
Grey sighed and got ready to give the guy a "small" lesson.
Primeape sends a Pokémon flying with one punch… the stray hit breaks the trainer's arm.
Yeah. Pretty reasonable.
Youmu snorted and pulled out a Great Ball. "Fine! Got the guts to battle me right now?"
"Grey."
Just then, Nelly stepped out from the front desk, rose on tiptoe to whisper in Grey's ear, and said softly,
"Youmu's been cozying up to some big shot lately. He's spent a fortune getting ready to deal with you! He's roped in a bunch of Psychic-types from all over the regions—be careful!"
"Is that so? Still, it's not about how many Pokémon you have, it's about how good they are."
Grey glanced at Youmu and shook his head. "Catch all you want—without training, you're still getting dropped in three punches."
Their back-and-forth drew plenty of members' attention.
"Hey, isn't that Grey? So he's a sparring partner at the Battle Club too? Weird, I feel like I've never seen him around."
"Normal. Grey's a special guest—he's not the same as the regular sparring staff. Different contract."
"What about the guy next to him? He's a special guest too. Why do we see him every day?"
"He's got connections, that's why. Of course you see him every day."
Grey's reputation in the club was decent—built on Primeape's fists.
That was exactly what Youmu envied.
Same title of special guest, both battling with Pokémon—so why was Grey the one who got all the love, and not him?!
So what if he had connections?
Connections still need strength behind them!
And to win this time, he'd come prepared!
"Grey, you don't think I'm the same old me, do you?"
Youmu lifted his nose to the sky, as if he were unstoppable. "Someone at your level? I'll drop you in three moves! So? Yes or no?"
"So much crap. No stakes, no match."
Grey ran with Youmu's momentum; if there was no blood in the pot, there was no battle.
"What stakes do you want?"
Hooked right away, Youmu brought it up himself.
"How about this: you get only ten thousand for a single appearance, right? No need to go crazy—make the stakes your full rate: forty thousand."
Grey said it with a big, friendly smile.
Youmu didn't catch on and even thought it was a bargain. "Deal!"
Grey suppressed a grin and said to Nelly, "Nelly, can you be our witness?"
"Sure!"
Nelly nodded lightly and led them to the club's public battle arena.
Word that Grey was going to fight Youmu spread fast.
One to ten, ten to a hundred.
Soon, the space around the arena was packed with people there to watch the post-meal drama.
The news reached the higher-ups as well.
A purple-haired man wrapped in bandages, shifty-eyed, stared at the security monitor, lost in thought.
——
"To deal with you, I went and caught a Pokémon from the Johto region!"
On the field, Youmu puffed up his chest and hurled out a Poké Ball.
A bird Pokémon with white wings and bipedal stance appeared.
Its whole body looked like ancient totems; a crimson eye-like pattern on its chest made your skin crawl.
[Pokémon: Xatu]
[Type: Psychic/Flying]
[Level: 30]
Grey: …
He'd expected something intimidating.
Level 30?
This guy really had no self-awareness.
"Hmph! Grey, Xatu's Psychic/Flying typing hard-counters Fighting-types! This battle is mine to win!"
Youmu broke down the matchup, and by the end he sounded already victorious.
"All right, enough hot air. I'll be taking your forty thousand."
Grey sent out Primeape. A feral pressure spilled out, and even the ground seemed to tremble.
"Xatu, Tailwind!"
"Primeape, Swagger!"
They shouted at the same time.
Xatu spread its wings; Flying-type energy flowed over its body and a cool breeze swept the field—only to be cut off a second later.
Primeape was capering about, beating a taunting rhythm with its feet and hands. The dopey Xatu flushed with anger in spite of itself.
A red aura of boosted power rose—and the dizziness hit right after.
"Damn!"
Tailwind got shut down. Seeing Primeape closing in, Youmu cursed and yelled, "Xatu, use Air Slash, now!"
"Xa—"
Xatu's head was spinning. It spread its wings but didn't seem to know what to do; Flying-type energy gathered painfully slow. Air Slash just wouldn't fire.
"Primeape, get in! Ice Punch!"
Grey didn't mince words.
"Praai!"
Primeape lunged in long strides. Frost gathered on fists like sandbags, and the temperature around them plunged.
A blast of icy air rushed over the field, and Xatu finally snapped back to its senses.
But Primeape was already at point-blank range; there was no time to charge an Air Slash.
"What?!"
Realizing his intel was off, Youmu barked, "Use Drill Peck, you idiot!"
At the command, Xatu folded its wings tight in front and hovered on psychic power.
A few steps away—danger spiked.
Xatu began to spin, its yellow beak whirring like a power drill!
With the big Attack boost from Swagger, it actually looked like it might threaten Primeape!
A smile crept onto Youmu's face.
Bang!
Primeape's heavy fist crashed forward. Azure arcs crackled across the knuckles, shedding frost, and everything nearby seemed to slow down.
Drill Peck met the fist, the spinning beak boring into Primeape's knuckles and kicking up gusts that fluttered both trainers' hems.
Crack—crack—
And then the drilling stopped dead against the Ice Punch, freezing solid!
"…???"
Youmu's smile vanished, and the grin hopped over to Grey's face.
"Primeape, send it flying."
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