"Get him! What are you idiots waiting for?!" one of the gang members yelled, emboldened by their overwhelming numbers. "He's just one guy! Bury him!"
The sea of Zubats, Koffings, Ekans, and Grimers surged forward, a chaotic tide of fangs, toxic gas, and corrosive sludge.
Eric didn't even shift his stance. He simply reached to his belt and unclasped four Poké Balls, tossing them into the air simultaneously.
The warehouse was instantly illuminated by the brilliant white light of multiple summons.
Poliwrath and Fearow materialized at the front, their respective auras instantly suppressing the chaotic noise of the advancing mob. Growlithe and Ralts appeared near Eric's boots, while Gardevoir materialized gracefully by his side. Haunter, who had been hovering menacingly overhead, drifted backward, sinking partially into the shadows behind the two junior Pokémon.
"Poliwrath, Fearow, clear the room," Eric commanded, his voice perfectly even. "Growlithe, Ralts, pick your targets carefully. Haunter, watch over them. Make sure they don't get ganged up on."
"Rrath!" Poliwrath pounded his fists together.
"Fearow!" she shrieked, her wings flaring.
The gang members laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. "Five Pokémon? You think five Pokémon are going to stop thirty of us? Wipe them out!"
"Poliwrath," Eric said calmly. "Surf."
Poliwrath didn't hesitate. He slammed his foot into the concrete floor, pulling heavily on the ambient moisture in the damp warehouse.
A massive, towering wave of water materialized out of thin air, roaring toward the ceiling before crashing down.
"W-What the hell?!"
The tidal wave swept across the warehouse floor like a natural disaster. The frontline of Ekans and Koffing was instantly pulverized, the sheer kinetic force of the water smashing them into shipping crates and metal racks. Grunts screamed as they were swept off their feet, tumbling through the flooded aisles in a tangle of limbs and bruised Pokémon.
Before the water even settled, Fearow took to the sky.
"Drill Peck," Eric ordered.
She folded her wings, spinning like a missile. She tore through the scattered survivors, her beak glowing with intense Flying-type energy, knocking out any Zubat or Grimer that had managed to stay afloat.
In the center of the room, Gardevoir stood serenely next to Eric. A stray Sludge attack from a surviving Weezing sailed toward them, but it harmlessly dissipated against an invisible, shimmering Light Screen she had effortlessly erected. She didn't even need to blink.
A few meters ahead, Growlithe and Ralts were getting their own combat experience.
A Level 18 Ekans slithered toward them, hissing viciously.
"Growlithe, Flame Wheel! Ralts, support with Confusion!" Eric called out, keeping an eye on the entire battlefield.
Growlithe barked, bursting into flames and rolling forward like a fiery tire. The Ekans tried to dodge, but Ralts's eyes glowed blue. A wave of psychic energy grabbed the snake, holding it in place just long enough for Growlithe to slam into its side, knocking it unconscious.
Just then, a Level 24 Golbat swooped down from the rafters, aiming a swift Wing Attack at Ralts's blind spot.
It never made it.
From the shadow beneath a nearby crate, a giant, spectral purple hand shot out, swatting the Golbat out of the air with a casual, brutal slap. The bat crashed into the concrete, groaning before passing out.
"Kekeke," Haunter snickered from the darkness, wagging a finger warningly at the rest of the wild Pokémon. He was taking his job as the terrifying babysitter very seriously.
Eric watched the carnage unfold with absolute detachment.
His eyes scanned the remaining gang members who were desperately trying to recall their fainted Pokémon or scrambling backward in terror.
Then, his gaze locked onto one specific face.
He was a rat-faced man with a jagged scar across his chin, currently shivering in knee-deep water and desperately trying to command a heavily bruised Raticate.
Eric felt a sudden, sharp phantom pain in his ribs.
The inherited memories of the body's previous owner flared up with crystal clarity. This was the man. The one who used to kick him when he was starving, who burned him with cigarettes for not cleaning the cages fast enough.
In his nightmares, this man had been a towering, insurmountable monster.
Eric stared at him now.
"Raticate! Hyper Fang! Kill that damn frog!" the scarred man screamed, pointing a trembling finger at Poliwrath.
The Level 22 Raticate lunged, its fangs glowing. Poliwrath didn't even look at it. He simply raised a hand, caught the Raticate by the face, and casually slammed it into the concrete with a thud, leaving it completely motionless.
The scarred man fell backward, scrambling away in pure, unadulterated terror. He looked pathetic. Small. Insignificant.
Eric watched him crawl away, and a quiet realization settled over him.
He didn't feel rage. He didn't feel a burning need to torture the man or exact a bloody, drawn-out vengeance. The suffocating shadow this man had cast over his inherited memories dissolved entirely, leaving behind nothing but cold apathy.
'He's just a nobody,' Eric thought, feeling lighter than ever.
The trauma held no power over him anymore. He had grown so far beyond these bottom-feeders that they barely registered as a blip on his radar.
"Fearow, clear the rest of the trash," Eric said dismissively.
Within five more minutes, the battle was over. The warehouse was a flooded, ruined mess. Over thirty gang members were groaning on the floor, their Pokémon utterly decimated by Poliwrath and Fearow's overwhelming tag-team assault.
Eric stepped forward, the water parting around his boots.
CLANG!
The heavy metal doors at the far end of the warehouse, situated on a raised loading dock, were violently kicked open.
The remaining conscious grunts looked up, their eyes filling with desperate hope. "B-Boss!"
Stepping out onto the metal grating was a towering, incredibly bulky bald man. He wore a heavy leather coat over his massive frame, a thick gold chain resting against his chest. A deep, ugly scar ran across his scalp.
Slithering out from behind him was an Arbok that was noticeably larger and far more vicious-looking than any Eric had seen so far in this base.
---
Pokémon: Arbok
Level: 41
Type: Poison
Potential: Light Blue
---
The Leader of the Arbok Gang. An Advanced-level trainer.
The bald man looked down at his ruined warehouse, his defeated men, and the flooded floor. His face contorted into a mask of pure, murderous fury.
"Who the hell do you think you are?!" the boss roared, his voice shaking the catwalks. "Coming into my territory! Destroying my property! I'm going to feed your bones to my Arbok!"
The heavy, toxic pressure of his Level 41 Arbok washed over the room...
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