At the same time, in the Eastern Region—Shanghai University, inside a certain dorm room.
"What a pity. No fifth move slot," Aarav clicked his tongue, still staring at Incineroar's tragic collapse on-screen. "If the tiger-god could've used Protect there, that would've been a clean checkmate."
New Leaf Meow, perched nearby, tilted its head and watched the battle screen with bright curiosity while Aarav absentmindedly teased it.
The chat instantly went in on him for that shameless, "suffering-from-success" tone.
"LMAO Raihan's face is blacker than the screen right now."
"He actually dared to Swords Dance. That takes guts. Aren't you scared of Draco Meteor deleting you?"
"He had to gamble. Their Pokémon quality gap is huge. Incineroar and Pachirisu did disgust Raihan to death, but the raw damage difference is still real. If you don't have enough turns, your only hope is a Swords Dance sweep."
"Solid analysis. What rank are you?"
"Just a humble Red-and-White Ball Tier 2."
"…"
Aarav didn't have time to banter. He stayed locked in, quickly recalled the fallen Incineroar—
—and sent out his final Pokémon.
Pachirisu.
This was it.
Not just the turning point of the match…
but because the field now looked way too familiar.
Garchomp. Pachirisu. Salamence. Tyranitar.
That formation.
That spacing.
That… legendary screenshot.
Aarav stared at the screen, and a dangerous thought slipped into his mind.
No way… am I about to recreate that "world-famous painting" in another world?
Pachirisu's HP was still healthy, too.
Aarav's pulse sped up.
Then he shook it off.
No overthinking. Just do it.
He drew a breath, voice dropping into that calm, lethal tone.
"Pachirisu—Follow Me! Garchomp—Rock Slide!"
Raihan, Galar's number one under Leon, had nerves of steel. After his flash of rage, he stabilized almost instantly.
A Swords Dance Garchomp was terrifying—no question.
But there was one thing he couldn't ignore:
Tyranitar's earlier Earthquakes had already shaved Garchomp down to nearly half.
That meant Salamence still had a chance to decide everything with one blow.
"If his Garchomp has Swords Dance, there's no way it has Protect," Raihan calculated quickly. "And Salamence is faster."
He leaned forward as if he were in a real stadium match, and barked the order into the mic:
"Target Garchomp! Salamence—Draco Meteor! Tyranitar—Earthquake!"
Champion's Path went all-out on visuals for moves like Draco Meteor and Leaf Storm.
Purple draconic energy condensed in front of Salamence's jaws, swirling—heavier and heavier—until it felt like the air itself was being crushed.
And just as Raihan predicted, Garchomp didn't Protect.
Maybe it didn't have it.
Maybe it was too confident.
But none of that mattered anymore.
Because the meteor storm had already formed.
Raihan sank back into his couch, lips curling.
I'll admit it—this little "sub" has skills.
But in the end…
I'm still one step ahead.
He watched the meteors streak down in a brilliant cascade—
…only for them to slam into—
Garchomp's… side?
Raihan's body jolted.
He sat bolt upright, eyes going wide.
He was staring at the screen like it had betrayed him.
The Draco Meteor that was clearly aimed at Garchomp… had landed straight on top of—
Pachirisu.
On the TV screen, Salamence, Tyranitar, and Garchomp—three pseudo-legends—looked like nothing but background props.
All of them frozen, staring at a tiny white electric squirrel.
A squirrel that should've been crushed into paste—
yet somehow sat there, calm as if it had just tanked a breeze.
The battle log appeared at the bottom.
Small text.
But it stabbed Raihan's eyes like a knife.
"Pachirisu used Follow Me! It drew Salamence's Draco Meteor!"
Raihan's soul left his body.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
Follow Me?!
What kind of demonic move even is that?
Nuzzle. Helping Hand. Super Fang. Follow Me…
Who builds a set like this?!
Raihan slumped back on the couch, powerless, watching the inevitable.
With Pachirisu shielding it like a martyr, Garchomp unleashed Rock Slide and cleaned up Salamence and Tyranitar with casual cruelty.
Was there anything left to watch?
A +2 Garchomp with double-effective pressure, against two targets already worn down?
Salamence and Tyranitar could have ten thousand lives and they still wouldn't have enough.
And Flygon—still untouched in the Poké Ball?
Please.
That was just Pachirisu's spare "replacement."
A toy.
Something Aarav could toss out when he got bored—then let Garchomp kick it like roadside trash.
Raihan shut his eyes.
Enough.
Just end it.
Burn it all.
The sunshine boy of Galar, utterly dead inside, chose forfeit, killed the TV, and ended his stream at lightning speed.
Leaving behind a chat that only grew louder—boiling over like a volcano.
"Hahahahaha shame-quit! Raihan finally got his turn!"
"Honey what happened? Honey say something!"
"I'm crying—tonight Raihan flips his blanket and it's ALL Pachirisu."
"23:00 — It's just a game. 03:00 — I lost… to a Pachirisu?!"
"Anyone aiming for the League should go challenge Hammerlocke Arena these days. Raihan's mental is definitely shattered."
"Actually no—Raihan's furious. Guess who he's gonna vent on?"
"Not gonna lie, 'Iono' played this insanely well. Maybe 'strongest Gym Leader' was kinda fake…"
"Wait—people really think it was Iono playing? Really? Really?"
"Aarav is too strong! Follow Aarav, thanks meow!"
"…"
"Thank you to Gym Leader Iono for the ten Master Balls!" Aarav's voice was bright, still buzzing from the high-intensity finish. "Boss is generous! Boss stay healthy!"
Over there: Raihan shame-quit.
Over here: Aarav was happily collecting the bag.
Ten Master Ball gift effects exploded across the screen one after another, flooding the room with flashy light.
And the viewer count kept climbing.
Not just because of the expensive gifts—
but because Aarav had just devoured two top streamers' hype like it was free dessert.
One streamer got tilted off the face of the earth.
The other was literally sitting in Aarav's chat, alive and chatting.
This wasn't "winning."
This was winning so hard the universe had to look away.
And the vibe in chat?
Pure peace.
Fans, haters, passersby, clout goblins—everyone had to admit it.
Aarav had just beaten the so-called strongest Gym Leader with what looked like a "meme team."
And not only won—
he won in the most cinematic, humiliating way possible.
By tomorrow, this match replay would be everywhere online.
But outsiders only saw the spectacle.
The real experts saw something else.
A team that prioritized systems—support, rotations, defensive pivots, layered pressure—
a style that didn't rely on "beam battles" or "who hits harder."
And from this moment on, that style began to seep into a world obsessed with head-on clashes.
Not just inside Champion's Path.
Maybe… even into reality itself.
Read 50 chapters ahead on P@treon -> patreon.com/lucarioTL