Just then, a figure came scrambling out of the brush on all fours.
"Kongjian! It's me, Jiade Tianchen! I finally found you!"
"Wait, no time for pleasantries—run! There's a whole pack of Houndour right behind me!" Tianchen gasped, looking disheveled and exhausted. Heaven only knew what he had been through to look this bedraggled.
"Move! To the trees!" Feng Che commanded.
"It's no use! Houndour have an incredibly sensitive sense of smell. Even if we hide in the canopy, they'll sniff us out!" Tianchen explained frantically. "My Drowzee and I can use Teleport, but the distance is too short. They keep catching up!"
After leading Tianchen and Alice up into the thick branches of a massive tree, Feng Che pulled a small spray bottle from his bracelet.
"This contains a fragrance I made from gathered Wind-Heron Grass. Spray this on yourselves, and they won't pursue you. Houndour loathe the scent of Wind-Heron Grass; they won't go anywhere near it."
Feng Che misted himself and handed the bottle to Alice.
"For real?" Tianchen asked, sniffing the air. It smelled like a delicate, pleasant orchid.
"To humans, yes. But a Pokémon's sense of smell is different. To them, this scent is an unbearable stench."
A series of low growls erupted from the bushes below. Moments later, over a dozen Houndour burst into the clearing.
The Houndour looked like black Dobermans with two bone-like ridges on their backs and orange snouts and bellies. The leader of the pack was particularly robust, and hanging from its neck was a Bronze Key. It snarled ferociously, its head darting back and forth as it tried to relocate Tianchen's scent.
Tianchen quickly sprayed himself and pressed his body against the branch, barely daring to breathe.
"Alice, what do you think of Houndour? That leader looks like a prime specimen," Feng Che whispered.
"I like it," Alice whispered back. "But I have to subdue it myself. If I rely on your Pokémon to beat it, it'll never respect me as its Trainer. But with the whole pack there, I don't see a way to isolate it."
"I have just the thing." Feng Che pulled out a bunch of dried weeds that looked similar to foxtails. "This is Dog-Tail Grass. I'll spare you the technical lecture, but watch."
"Rookidee, drop this right in front of them."
Rookidee grabbed the bundle and banked low over the clearing, dropping the grass in the center of the pack. The Houndour immediately gathered around, sniffing the grass eagerly. Within moments, they began to stagger and sway as if intoxicated.
"If you've ever owned a Meowth or a Skitty, you know about Catnip. Dog-Tail Grass has the exact same effect on canine Pokémon like Poochyena, Growlithe, and Houndour. It makes them docile and euphoric."
Feng Che leaped down from the tree and approached them. "A shame. None of these have 'Excellence' potential; the leader is likely 'Outstanding' at best."
Houndour are famously loyal; once they accept a Trainer, they stay for life, often guarding their Trainer's grave after they pass.
"Alice, the leader's potential is good enough. Catch it now, and you'll have some real protection."
"Deal. I owe you one," Alice said. She threw a Poké Ball at the leader, but the Houndour leader suddenly snapped its eyes open, showing a sharp intelligence. It dodged the ball nimbly.
"So, you were acting," Feng Che said with a cold laugh. "Impressive self-control."
"Alice, it looks like I'll have to weaken it for you first."
Pokémon: Houndour Gender: Female Potential: Outstanding (Yellow) Ability:Intimidate Level: 15 Type: Dark + Fire Moves:Ember, Howl, Roar, Smog, Odor Sleuth, Fire Fang Status: Unstable (Inhaled trace amounts of Dog-Tail Grass)
A massive Arbok (Ditto) slid down from the tree, its hood flared and its purple scales shimmering. It flicked its tongue at the Houndour.
The Houndour took two steps back, but suddenly, golden electric arcs began to dance across its body.
"Perfect, Arbok. A successful Glare."
Feng Che had trained Ditto to use Glare as an opening move in Arbok form. Houndour aren't reckless; they usually flee when outmatched, but the paralysis successfully slashed its speed, pinning it in place.
The Houndour lowered its head and growled, sparks flying from its mouth—an Emberattack. A burst of flame shot toward the Arbok, who dodged with effortless grace.
The Arbok unhinged its jaw and unleashed a hailstorm of Poison Stings. The Houndour tried to dodge, but the paralysis kicked in, locking its joints. It could only watch as the needles struck home.
Stuck with countless needles like a pincushion, the Houndour's face turned a sickly blue-green. It was now suffering from both Poison and Paralysis. Its spirit was utterly broken.
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