Just moments ago, they had been so close to finally bringing down Ninetales and making a fortune. Now the poachers could only watch as their money seemed to vanish into thin air. Their eyes turned bloodshot with frustration.
"Golbat, Air Cutter!"
"Beedrill, Pin Missile!"
"Persian, Power Gem!"
"Parasect, Giga Drain!"
They barked orders at the few Pokémon they had left, driving them recklessly against the three newcomers and the battered but still-standing Ninetales.
It was indeed reckless. The gap in strength was obvious, and yet they didn't give up—a rare kind of foolish bravery.
They didn't even need Silas, hidden behind the trees, to command. His Pokémon and Ninetales easily overwhelmed the ragged poachers, both trainers and Pokémon subdued together.
"Who's there?! Get out here!"
The poacher captain was losing his mind. He had known someone would intervene eventually, but why was there such a powerful trainer here of all places?
Crimson Forest was a tourist attraction, popular with travelers, but in terms of resources it was little more than a secondary woodland.
Even if a skilled trainer did come here, they would either leave right after challenging the Crimson City Gym or just be here for sightseeing—not venture this deep into the forest.
He wanted to cough blood.
This wasn't just some trainer. One with a Blaziken and Servine—two starter Pokémon, plus a Pidgeot at least around level 40, maybe nearing near-Elite strength. That was clearly the kind of future prospect the League had its eyes on. What the hell was he doing here instead of training in safety?
And then there was that hulking Rock-type. The captain didn't recognize it, which only made it more suspicious and rare.
Of course,Roggenrola wasn't truly rare. It had simply lived underground, discovered only about ninety years ago in Unova, so most people still didn't know it well.
If it had been a Boldore, maybe the captain would have recognized it.
As for a Gigalith, which needed trade evolution—well, that was far beyond the captain's knowledge.
The forest fell into silence, broken only by the captain's half-crazed shouts.
Blaziken and Gigalith simply stared at him with unruffled calm.
Servine, meanwhile, dutifully followed Silas's prior instructions, binding the captured poachers with vines before cautiously approaching the exhausted Ninetales. The fox's fur bristled in alarm, still in a hyper-stressed state.
Servine quickly raised its vines, showing it meant no harm, and carefully unleashed Grassy Terrain.
Soft green light washed over Ninetales, soothing its wounds. The fox let out a quiet whimper, the savagery in its eyes fading. It leaned down and licked Servine in thanks.
Servine nearly choked on its own breath. The glowing field of Grassy Terrain flickered awkwardly. With drool, really?
Raised in a breeding center and later under Silas's care, Servine had never faced such a raw, wild show of affection.
Meanwhile, the captain kept shouting, but deep in his furious eyes, a calculating gleam scanned the area. He was searching for the hidden trainer.
Damn, he hides too well.
He cursed inwardly, relaxing the grip on the pistol concealed in his long sleeve.
"Bzzzt!" "Crash!"
Above, Pidgeot finally finished off the Magneton trio and the pair of Fearow. It hovered, panting heavily.
Electric-types were far too dangerous for it—dodging their strikes had been exhausting.
It flapped once more, batting the two Fearow further away before they even hit the ground.
It had never seen their kind at birth, but the enmity encoded in its very genes—the ancient rivalry with Fearow—burned strong. Just looking at them filled it with hatred.
And without those pests interfering, it wouldn't have taken half as much effort to finish the Magneton.
"Piiidgeot~"
It swooped down, hovering above the cave, basking in Servine's Grassy Terrain to restore its stamina.
Ninetales almost lashed out by instinct, but quickly realized the bird was an ally. It showed its teeth in a friendly gesture instead.
Pidgeot shivered. For some reason, it felt like those eyes were sizing it up as a snack.
The captain's face darkened. He couldn't stall any longer. Officer Jenny would be arriving soon. He had to escape.
His left hand crept stealthily toward the outside of his thigh, where a micro-pouch hid his emergency escape Pokémon.
Perfect. He kept his expression unchanged as his fingers pinched the shrunken Poké Ball.
Damn you, Silph. If you're going to design Pokémon to enter and exit their Balls freely, then let them do it while minimized too!
He cursed silently. His hand shifted, preparing to release it. Once he got away, he swore, he would track down the meddling trainer and make them pay.
What if the kid had connections? Out in the wild, who could always guard against a gun? And revenge? He was a poacher—he didn't fear that.
But Blaziken felt his intent. Through aura, it sensed the man's twisted mental fluctuations, matched with the subtle shift of his body. The truth became clear instantly.
In a blur, it appeared in front of the captain just as his attention focused on the hidden Poké Ball.
Without hesitation, Blaziken seized his left hand, lifted him effortlessly into the air.
Thud, thud, thud.
A minimized Poké Ball slipped from his grip, rolling uselessly across the ground.
Now the captain was truly desperate. He immediately stretched out his right hand, preparing to fire his gun— crack!
But Blaziken, once again sensing his malicious intent in advance, raised its other claw and caught his right wrist, forcing the weapon from his grasp. The pistol clattered to the ground.
Blaziken tilted its head in puzzlement. Its aura abilities weren't yet fully developed—far from precise enough to read every detail of a Pokémon's wave signature. But sensing emotions? That was no problem.
Why, then, did these humans keep underestimating it?
Thinking about it for a moment, Blaziken realized its current stance looked odd. So, with a casual adjustment, it clamped both of the man's wrists together in one claw and dangled him in the air—like holding a rabbit by the ears.
Only once the scene was secure did Silas step calmly out from behind a massive tree trunk.
"With just this strength, you really thought you could capture a near-Elite Ninetales?" he said dryly.
He reached over the unconscious poachers, picking up their dropped Poké Balls and recalling their fainted Pokémon one by one.
"Hands up! This is Officer Jenny! By the authority of the Pokémon Capture Ban, you're under arrest!"
Jenny had hurried as fast as she could to the scene. She blurted out her official line instinctively, then froze as she took in the situation. Within seconds, she understood exactly what had happened.
Beside her, Arcanine sat calmly, panting lightly. It wasn't as if her partner would have dragged her recklessly in front of enemies—clearly it had sensed the fight was already over.
"Arroo~"
Next to it, a quadruped Pokémon with blue-and-black fur, resembling a fully-grown lion, gave a resigned call. At the end of its tail gleamed a bright yellow, star-shaped tip.
Seriously? When I was talking to Arcanine just now, you weren't even paying attention, were you?
"Ah, sorry, sorry! I just got anxious, that's all, Luxray."
Officer Jenny stuck out her tongue playfully at her two partners, then turned to Silas and offered a salute.
"My apologies, Trainer Silas Alaric. I arrived late. Thank you for your assistance."
She knew who he was, of course. Silas had triggered the anti-poacher alert function on his Pokédex, which had flagged both his information and his appearance to the authorities.
"Uh… just you?" Silas glanced at the empty woods behind her.
"Oh, no! The rest of my squad is already on the way. They'll be here any minute!" Jenny answered with a bright laugh.
It wasn't as though she was reckless. From Silas's perspective, even if he hadn't resolved the situation, a near-Elite Arcanine alongside her other Pokémon could easily have handled this group of poachers.
Sure enough, within moments Jenny's squad arrived—every one of them accompanied by the standard Arcanine-and-Luxray partner lineup.
..
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