Chapter 281: Bullet Punch!
Unlike Gary's often unconscious arrogance, this new young man practically radiated an inexplicable sense of superiority, an arrogance that Xiu found vaguely repulsive.
Initially, Xiu had assumed the portly middle-aged man was merely a driver and this youth his employer. Their conversation, however, quickly disabused him of that notion.
"Son, why did you come down?" the fat middle-aged man asked, not with anger at the youth's earlier scolding, but with an indulgent smile. "I can handle these small matters."
Hearing him call the youth "son," Xiu was momentarily speechless. He'd witnessed many such displays of doting parents and entitled children; it was a familiar dynamic.
He decided to let it pass. Others, however, were less inclined to ignore it. Both the Pallet Town residents and the other outsiders began to point and mutter amongst themselves.
The youth, however, seemed entirely oblivious, as if such attention was perfectly normal. He turned to the townspeople and shouted arrogantly, "I am a registered Trainer from Viridian City! Who gave you permission to block my way?"
"Huh?" Xiu looked at him, genuinely wondering if the boy was truly this foolish.
The townspeople, however, reacted with predictable indignation, waving their farm tools more aggressively.
"This is Pallet Town! You're not welcome here!"
"Get out of Pallet Town!"
The hostile reception seemed only to energize the portly youth. His face flushed with excitement, he retrieved a Poké Ball from his belt.
"You bumpkins! Who allowed you to speak to me like that? I'm going to show you what a registered Trainer from Viridian City is capable of!" With that, he pressed the release button. In a flash of red light, a humanoid Pokémon with prominent muscles appeared.
The arguing crowd instantly fell silent. The sudden appearance of the Pokémon cleared the immediate area as people instinctively recoiled.
Once again, Xiu was reminded of the fear ordinary people held towards Pokémon. The moment the creature materialized, the onlookers shrank back as if facing a predator.
Xiu, however, was no ordinary person. This Pokémon—a Machoke—was nothing special. It stood only about one and a half meters tall, its muscles looking more exaggerated and showy than truly powerful.
Its dull, vacant expression further confirmed its mediocrity. Xiu had initially assumed the youth's arrogance was backed by some genuine strength.
Seeing the Machoke, he felt a pang of disappointment. He'd even briefly considered if this might be a decent sparring partner for Scizor, but that notion now seemed wasted.
"Alright," Xiu waved a dismissive hand, his expression cool. "Don't waste everyone's time. Hurry up and pay for the damages."
Xiu's words drew the portly youth's attention squarely back to him. "You're a Trainer?" the youth demanded, his eyes lighting up. "I want to battle you!"
The onlookers, their earlier anxieties momentarily forgotten, perked up— their attention captured by the prospect of a Pokémon battle.
"I'm not a Trainer," Xiu began with a faint, almost mocking smile, "and I don't know anything about battling…"
Before he could finish, the portly youth became agitated. He pointed an accusatory finger at Xiu. "How dare you, someone who isn't even a Trainer, block my path! Get out of the way with these other lowlifes!"
Hearing this, Xiu let out a short, sharp laugh, the smile on his face growing wider, yet colder. His earlier, somewhat detached amusement had vanished. His eyes narrowed slightly.
The middle-aged man, still in the driver's seat of their car, felt an inexplicable chill spread through him as he watched Xiu's expression change. He couldn't help but try to intervene. "Son, stop talking—"
But the portly youth paid his father no mind, cutting him off disrespectfully. "It's all your fault, you loser! If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be in this mess right now!"
Faced with his son's tirade, the middle-aged man actually showed a flicker of fear, managing only an awkward, placating smile without saying anything further.
What a good son, Xiu thought with biting sarcasm. Such touching filial piety. He chuckled aloud at the scene, not expecting such a blatant display.
To the portly youth, however, Xiu's laughter sounded like a direct humiliation.
"Bastard!" he snarled, pointing at Xiu. "Today, you're going to taste the power of my Machoke's fists!"
Xiu looked at him with open disgust and amusement. He then casually released Scizor.
When Scizor's tall, imposing form materialized, the fat kid, who had still been shouting defiantly, froze. His eyes widened as if they were about to pop from their sockets.
"Get rid of it," Xiu said casually, not even bothering to look directly at the youth or his Pokémon. These small fry truly didn't interest him, but since the provocation had been relentless, he wouldn't show undue restraint.
Upon receiving the order, a faint white sheen briefly enveloped Scizor before vanishing.
It then shot towards the Machoke, a blur of motion, like a dark thunderbolt closing the distance in an instant. The powerful claws, usually held tight against its body, were already primed.
The Machoke hadn't even fully processed the threat, but instinct, deeply ingrained, made it raise its arms defensively.
However, it made no difference. Scizor's strike was unerringly precise.
Countless hours of rigorous training had granted Scizor unparalleled control over its body. Every muscle fiber contracted, unleashing its maximum power.
Its arm, extended for the strike, was as taut as a steel cable connected to a heavy hammer, the movement itself producing a faint, high-pitched whine of metal on metal.
Bullet Punch!
Scizor's claw landed with sickening force. The humans nearby heard only a single, muffled thud, followed almost immediately by a terrified, high-pitched wail.
Looking closer, the Machoke still had its arms raised, but its head was no longer where it should be. In its place, Scizor's bloodied claw was retracting.
The Machoke's neck had been grotesquely obliterated, the flesh and muscle torn as if ripped apart by sheer, brutal force, sending fragments scattering to the ground.
Its head, chin completely caved in and features a bloody ruin, had been thrown aside, rolling to a stop near the youth's car.
A fresh dent marred the vehicle's side panel, smeared with blood and bits of tissue, indicating the head had struck the car before hitting the dirt.
As for the fat kid who had been standing just behind his Machoke, he was miraculously spared a direct hit. However, he was heavily splattered with his Pokémon's blood.
His face, in particular, was completely masked by it, his original expression unreadable.
The wail had come from him— but now, he had lost his voice.
His mouth hung wide open, but no sound emerged.
The headless body of the Machoke, after a few twitching moments, finally collapsed.
This small movement sent the blood-soaked youth into a paroxysm of terror before he stumbled backward, falling heavily to the ground.