The manor's first floor was a hair-trigger standoff.
But Damian still looked relaxed. The numbers were completely lopsided, sure, but to him it didn't matter.
"Who are you calling small fry?"
A deep male voice rolled down from above.
"Boss!"
"Boss! You finally made it!"
Team Skull's members lit up, and the owner of that voice slowly came down the stairs.
"Oh?"
Damian raised a brow.
A fierce-looking man with white hair, sunglasses on his forehead, baggy black pants, a white tee under a black jacket.
The whole vibe screamed trouble.
This was Team Skull's boss, Guzma.
The crowd parted. Guzma, hands shoved in his pockets, strolled over, his ruthless stare radiating pressure.
"Kid, who'd you just call small fry?"
Guzma stopped in front of Damian, leaning in slightly, his low voice a growl.
"Isn't 'small fry' what you Team Skull have the most of? You're Guzma, right?"
"That's right. Big bad Guzma himself." Guzma's expression grew darker.
"Kid, your mouth's huge for someone so small. I don't care if you're Team Rocket or Team Whatever—roll back to where you came from and don't interrupt my nap!"
Guzma didn't bother with courtesy—pure bite in his tone.
So, someone had warned him.
"Tch. I figured the boss of Team Skull might have at least a few working brain cells. Guess not."
Guzma got loud; Damian didn't budge, mocking him right back.
"Did a door squeeze your head? Or have you been stomping around Alola so long you can't read the room anymore?"
With that, Guzma's already nasty face turned even gloomier.
"Heh heh… never thought someone would walk up to big bad Guzma just to get launched."
Guzma grinned, popping a Poké Ball. A huge, isopod-like Pokémon hit the floor in front of him.
Water/Bug-type Golisopod—Guzma's ace.
"Punk, I'm gonna fix you up real good. This ain't a playground for your Team Rocket tantrums."
Guzma bared white teeth. He'd decided—time to teach this annoying brat a lesson.
Caitlin's brows drew tight, eyes on the snarling Golisopod. From its aura, it was strong.
As expected—he was Team Skull's boss. Not weak.
But Metagross had the type edge. She could take it.
Damian clicked his tongue, stood, and stopped Proton and Caitlin from stepping in.
"Interesting. In that case, I'll test your level."
A Poké Ball expanded and popped in Damian's fingers.
A wild Pokémon with gray-white bristling fur and blood-red eyes appeared at his feet, tilting its head, silently locking onto Golisopod.
Annihilape.
"Come on, I'll give you a shot. Hope your skills are as loud as your mouth." Damian grinned too.
"Watch closely, kid!" Guzma flashed a toothy smile.
"Golisopod! First Impression!"
Golisopod rumbled, launching like a cannonball at Annihilape.
"Focus Punch."
Annihilape clenched its right fist, blue energy condensing—then slammed forward.
Boom!!
Focus Punch smashed into Golisopod's First Impression. The impact roared, a shockwave blasting out.
Then, in the next heartbeat—
Annihilape poured on more power. Focus Punch shattered First Impression and sent Golisopod flying.
Under Plumeria and the others' stunned stares, Golisopod shot back faster than it charged in—straight into the wall.
Silence!
The whole place froze.
Guzma's pupils shrank. Caitlin's eyes lit up. This Annihilape was a monster.
"H-how is that… possible?" Plumeria murmured, dazed.
How? No way!
That was Guzma's ace Golisopod! Even the Island Kahunas or Queens wouldn't flatten him like that.
"Why not?" Damian chuckled.
He'd heard Plumeria—hard not to, with the manor this quiet.
"When you hole up in your tiny corner, playing in your own sandbox like small fry, how would you grasp how wide the outside world is?"
Damian's tone returned to smooth and elegant, but the words stayed sharp as ever.
"Who… exactly are you?"
Guzma's breathing turned heavy. He bored into Damian, a beast ready to bite.
Something's off about this guy.
Even Kukui's main roster couldn't crush my Golisopod in a single exchange.
And Kukui was Alola's only Champion-tier Trainer.
"Damian. Team Rocket's Damian." Damian smiled slightly.
"So then, Sir Guzma—interested in having a proper talk now?"
"…"
Guzma stared at Damian for a long beat.
"Follow me." he rumbled.
Hot-headed or not, Guzma knew stakes. This was life-or-death for Team Skull.
"A wise choice."
Damian followed, with Caitlin and Proton.
"Plumeria, you too."
Plumeria bit her lip and went along.
The Team Skull grunts were left standing, nervous about a future they wouldn't decide.
Guzma led them to a room on the second floor—same vibe as outside: a mess.
"Not much to sit on. Make do," Guzma said calmly, taking a seat on a wooden crate.
Proton glanced around, grabbed a stool, wiped it with his sleeve, and set it for Damian.
"Tsk—at least set up a halfway decent place for talks, yeah?"
Damian clicked his tongue, taking in the room.
"I don't do that kind of fluff," Guzma's brow twitched.
"Damian, right? What exactly do you want?"
Straight to the point.
"Team Rocket is expanding into other regions. Alola is our first target." Damian lounged, looking at Guzma and Plumeria.
"As for Team Skull, we're absolutely folding you in. That part's not negotiable."
He tilted his head, studying the two.
Guzma's face darkened.
"But me? I'm the merciful type, so I'll give you a chance."
Damian took out two silver badges and tossed them to Guzma and Plumeria.
"What's this?" Plumeria looked at the silver 'R' in her hand.
"My sincere invitation for you two to join Team Rocket—as executives. How about it?"
Damian smiled, eyes crescenting.
Team Rocket's… executives?
Plumeria instinctively glanced at Guzma—and saw his brows knotted as he stared at the silver badge.