"Scizor has lost the ability to fight! The final winner is John, the new challenger from our steadfast Alliance!" The referee's voice cracked slightly as he snapped out of his stunned trance, announcing the result to thunderous applause. "Thank you to both trainers for bringing us such a... memorable match!"
"Good fight," John said with practiced courtesy, retrieving Kubfu's Pokeball and turning to leave the stage with casual confidence.
Meanwhile, Chloe remained frozen like a statue.
She finally understood why Peter had looked at her with such pity earlier, saying she shouldn't even think about celebrating tonight.
Defeated by someone using legendary Pokemon as support Pokemon, and in such a crushing fashion, no less.
Celebrate? More like I should be drowning my sorrows in cheap beer.
Chloe silently recalled Scizor to its Pokeball and stumbled off the battlefield in a daze. With each step, bitter memories of her three years of relentless training flashed through her mind.
For her dream of becoming champion, she'd lived like a monk for three years. Every single day, she'd wake before dawn, before the roosters even thought about crowing, to begin her morning training routine.
When she encountered powerful Pokemon, she'd spend weeks lurking in the shadows, day and night, racking her brain to devise capture strategies.
After every defeat to a strong opponent, she'd challenge them again and again until she won.
Such hellish discipline was all for this moment, to return to the Iron Alliance, challenge the champion, and claim the title for her hometown.
But she'd just been utterly demolished in her very first match.
Chloe suddenly clenched her fists and gritted her teeth.
"It's just one failure! I didn't quit three years ago, and I won't quit now. Worst case, I'll train for another three years! I refuse to believe I can't beat him!"
But as soon as the words left her mouth, the image of massive black wings flashed through her mind, tearing apart all her hopeful delusions with a single stroke.
"Thud." Chloe collapsed to her knees right there in the trainer tunnel.
That was freaking Lugia!
How was she supposed to train to defeat a literal god?
Chloe burst into tears, her shoulders shaking with each sob.
After what felt like an eternity, all her anguish condensed into a single, defeated sentence:
"Screw the champion dream!"
After the battle, John headed to check his point total from the match, completely unaware that he'd just shattered a trainer's decade-long dream.
"Ten points? That's it?" John frowned at the pathetic number on his screen. Official source is ɴovelfire.net
He needed resonance stones, and each one cost 10,000 points. At this rate, he'd need to win a thousand matches just to afford one. Given how slowly the Iron Alliance scheduled matches, he'd be stuck here for three or four years.
"Sir, the number of points you earn per match increases with your ranking," the staff member explained politely.
"Then what's my current rank?"
"You're now ranked 123,821."
"More than 120,000?" John's eye twitched. "That's... pretty low."
"You were unranked before defeating Chloe. That puts you outside the top 200,000."
"Well, jumping from unranked to 123,821 in one match isn't terrible," John mused, already strategizing his next moves. "Please schedule my next match."
After booking his next battle, John powered down his Gameboy and decided to grab a proper dinner. Another match would probably come soon enough.
However, John was reconsidering his strategy of using Kubfu going forward. The Iron Alliance's skill level was far higher than he'd anticipated, this seemed to be where elite trainers and champions came to sharpen their skills. Better to play it safe and use his second- or first-string team next time.
Putting away his Gameboy, John surveyed the beach and noticed something peculiar happening.
Tyranitar, Tyrantrum, Aggron, and Garchomp sat in a neat row, working together to pile sand and... eating it. They looked like pastry chefs collaborating on some bizarre dessert.
Nearby, Arcanine and Haxorus watched with obvious envy.
"Great... is dirt-eating contagious now?" John muttered, rubbing his temples.
"Gardevoir, tell Arcanine and Haxorus they absolutely cannot eat dirt!"
John wasn't particularly worried about Haxorus, but Arcanine had all the impulse control of a hyperactive golden retriever. Despite its incredible natural talent, it had the exact same personality as a house-demolishing mutt.
"Garde~" Gardevoir immediately used Psychic to "warn" the two troublemakers.
Walking north along the coastline, John passed through a fruit grove filled with training targets. The trees had been planted by Venusaur specifically for practice.
Blaziken, Kubfu, and Zeraora were training there, drenched in sweat. Whenever they destroyed the targets, Venusaur would quickly create new ones using its grass-type abilities.
Further out on the ocean, Greninja and Red Gyarados were playing with Surf, while Lugia was probably nesting somewhere on the sea floor.
In the sky above, Salamence and Aerodactyl were chasing Latias in an aerial game of tag.
Back at the house, Togepi, Mew, and Wobbuffet sat in a row playing video games together. Slaking lounged beside the sofa, eyes half-closed, providing ambient relaxation for the group.
In the kitchen, Hariyama wore a chef's hat while preparing dinner.
In the backyard, Gengar stood grinning on top of Steelix, posing dramatically for Smeargle's latest artistic masterpiece.
"This is perfect," John sighed contentedly.
In the Pokemon world, whatever else might happen, a trainer was never truly alone. With so many Pokemon around, it was like having a house full of children—a warm, chaotic family.
"Beep beep..." John's phone suddenly rang.
He glanced at the caller ID: Senior Damian.
"Hey, Senior, what's up?"
"The Elite Four meeting time and location have been confirmed," Damian's voice came through clearly. "The day after the Spring Festival, in the capital. Make sure you arrive early. If you want to challenge for the championship, there isn't much time left to prepare."
"Got it, thanks for the heads-up, Senior," John replied with a smile.
He hung up quickly, the call had been brief and to the point. But Damian hadn't needed to call personally, since the Trainer Association sent John an official notice shortly after.
"Seems like Damian can't wait anymore," John muttered to himself.
"Could it be that Damian is also preparing to challenge for the championship?"
"If that's the case, he'll be my biggest rival at this Elite Four meeting!"