"Vibrava, use Bug Buzz."
Shiro gave his order in a low voice.
Against Grass-types, the most effective attacks came from Bug, Poison, Flying, Fire, or Ice. Vibrava happened to have Bug Buzz, a move perfectly suited for this fight. Not only could it deal heavy damage, but it also carried the chance of lowering the opponent's special defense.
"Vibbraa!"
The Pokémon shook its wings at high speed. The vibration produced an invisible wave of sound, sharp and relentless.
In the wild, Vibrava had always relied on its wings to generate sound waves for hunting. Those vibrations could easily stun smaller Pokémon, leaving them helpless.
Across the field, the hulking Rillaboom realized what was coming. It braced itself, crossing both arms in front of its body. It made no effort to dodge, showing no sign of running. That had always been its way. Even long ago when it battled, it never thought of avoiding an attack. It would simply charge forward without hesitation.
The sound tore through the air with astonishing force, hitting it head-on. The gorilla-like Pokémon staggered. Pain spread through every part of its body, gnawing at its limbs and pressing into its mind. It had been a long time since it felt anything this intense.
Behind it, Timmy shouted, "Come on, Rillaboom! Hit it back! Don't just stand there!"
"U-turn," Shiro commanded calmly.
Vibrava shot forward. Its speed was so great that only a blur of light could be seen. It struck Rillaboom in the stomach, rebounded, and zipped back to its original position in a seamless arc.
Ryan barely caught what had happened. To him it was only a flash of green streaking across the air. Then Rillaboom's body wavered, its strength finally collapsing. It toppled sideways with a heavy thud, eyes rolling shut.
"Rillaboom! What are you doing?" Timmy rushed to its side, dropping to his knees. He slapped at its arm in panic, his voice breaking. "Wake up... please, don't scare me..."
Tears threatened to spill as his words cracked. His hands kept shaking the motionless Pokémon.
Vibrava fluttered its wings, ready to finish off the enemy, but Shiro was faster. He raised the Poké Ball and recalled it in a flash of red light. Even so, the boy had already caught sight of the Pokémon darting near. The sudden motion frightened him. His face twisted up, and he broke down in sobs.
"Mom... mommmy..."
Ryan glanced at Shiro, both of them holding back a laugh. Then the former composed himself, pressed the microphone to his lips, and announced with professional calm.
"That's it. Both of trainer Timmy's Pokémon are unable to battle. The winner is challenger Shiro! According to the rules, the losing trainer must now pay at least one thousand Pokédollars in wagering fees."
After that, he walked over, extended his hand, and beckoned for the boy to pay up.
Timmy's cries grew softer. He sniffled, rubbed his nose with his sleeve, and hesitated. Ultimately, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the stack of Pokédollars his mom had tucked in for him before he left home.
She had folded them neatly and pressed them into his hands with one promise: if he won, the money would be his. He could go into the city and buy all the ice cream he wanted.
But now…
"Hand it over," Ryan said briskly. He snatched the bills from the boy mercilessly. Under the gaze of the camera, he passed the money into Shiro's hand. With the microphone still in his other grip, he began to lecture.
"A bet's a bet, kid. You fought, you lost, so you pay. Don't whine about it. If you can't handle losing, how are you ever going to become a real man?"
That was the tradition in Galar. It was more than just a rule; it was part of the culture. Losing meant paying up, no excuses.
The boy's sobs grew louder again. His face scrunched, tears streaking down his cheeks as he watched Shiro flipping through the bills.
"Hm?" Shiro raised his brow in surprise. Each note was five hundred Pokedollar. There were twenty of them in total. That made ten thousand.
'This kid's family must be pretty wealthy… All he needed to hand over was a thousand Pokécoins.'
With a polite smile, he tucked the money neatly into his pocket. He gave the boy a light pat on the shoulder, then walked on without looking back.
Ryan and the crew followed closely, circling past the child still crying behind them.
* * *
Wyndon.
On the fifth floor of Macro Cosmos' headquarters, in a corner of the lab, a bank of monitors displayed feeds from different angels.
Oleana rubbed at her tired eyes, the dark circles beneath them heavy. Adjusting her glasses, she scanned each of the screens, but saw nothing unusual.
The screens showed Shiro's battle against a roadblock trainer played out like any ordinary match.
"Other than this..." She tossed the notebook in her hand onto the desk and looked at the three researchers standing nearby. "Did any of you notice anything else? Include the reports from the staff following him. Has Shiro shown signs of suspicious behavior? For example, vanishing even for a few minutes? Or asking about specific places, showing interest in certain locations?"
The three exchanged confused looks. Then, in unison, they shook their heads.
"No, nothing at all."
The short-haired researcher raised her hand hesitantly. "He's been focusing on training his Pokémon. Two of them even broke through to Gym-level recently. Does that count as intel?"
"It doesn't. Keep watching. Be ready to report immediately if anything changes," Oleana said coldly. With that, she turned and walked away.
'Maybe he hasn't reached the target location yet…'
Her pace quickened as her thoughts churned.
Shiro must already know that the company suspected him. That left only two options: he was either preparing to escape or searching for something.
If the Rusted Sword and Shield, along with the Unown, weren't being carried on him at the moment, then the second option seemed far more likely.
And judging from his previous behavior, he probably wouldn't keep things like that on his person. A cautious man like him would hide them elsewhere. Most likely, he had even enlisted the help of Psychic-type Pokémon to block any mental probing, shielding the knowledge inside his own mind so that if he were ever caught, he'd still be able to survive.
Now that he had left the headquarters building, no longer under the constant threat of immediate capture, the chance that he would move toward those relics while preparing to escape was very high.
Oleana entered another lab, turning her focus back to experiments on Dynamax energy. The matter of Shiro she pushed aside. Her arrangements were already in place.
Even a Rookidee couldn't slip free of Galar.
* * *
Meanwhile, after defeating three more roadblock trainers, Shiro finally reached Hammerlocke.
He knew this city well. Yet as he crossed the wide eastern bridge into it, the feeling struck him like stepping into another world.
The last time he entered with Marvin, the streets had been alive with people. Flying Taxis filled the street, waiting to ferry travelers. Today, the place was nearly empty. Only rows of gym staff stood at intervals, upright and watchful.
His path was clear. No one blocked his way as he approached the Gym, or rather, the Hammerlocke Stadium.
At the bronze gates, a uniformed Gym Trainer stepped forward with a welcoming gesture.
"Welcome. If you're here for the Gym Challenge, proceed straight ahead."
Shiro gave a brief nod and walked on. Ryan and the camera crew followed in step.
Down a long semicircular corridor, he reached a massive arched iron gate. Ribbons and staff marked the final boundary.
"Challenger Shiro... please enter!" A worker announced warmly. He pushed the gate open.
Inside lay the vast battlefield. At the far side, Gym Leader Rylan was waiting.
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