A dark blur streaked swiftly between the withered trees. Cold flashes of light flickered again and again. Each time the shadow moved, another dead tree toppled to the ground.
Bang—bang—
As the fallen trunks hit the earth, clouds of dust rose. One after another, the withered berry trees were severed cleanly at the base, sliced clean through by some unseen blade. The cuts were smooth and even, polished as if sanded.
"Weavile~"
Weavile stood with one hand on her hip, squinting proudly at her handiwork as she rubbed the tip of her nose with satisfaction.
Kael had assigned her to clear out the dead berry trees in the central courtyard. Before Weavile's steel-rending claws, chopping through dry trunks was no harder than slicing tofu.
"Roar—!"
The bellow of Rhydon sounded from behind. Weavile glanced back to see the hulking giant approaching, a rope as thick as a grown-ass man's arm in one hand and a massive timber—over twenty centimeters in diameter—hoisted across his shoulder.
The beam had once been a supporting pillar in the main hall, now severely rotted. To prevent it from collapsing unexpectedly, Kael had Rhydon forcibly remove it. After all, the main hall would need a full renovation anyway. The dojo had been abandoned for 10 years—no matter how solid its original construction, Kael wasn't willing to take chances. If a beam snapped while he was sleeping, the consequences could be disastrous.
Rhydon nodded toward Weavile in greeting before tossing the huge timber to the ground with a heavy thud. Dragging the rope behind him, he entered the grove and began gathering the trunks Weavile had felled, stacking them together and binding them tightly.
"Rooaaar!"
Facing the pile of deadwood now stacked like a small hill, Rhydon thumped his chest and strode forward. His thick arms wrapped around both ends of the bundle. Gritting his teeth, he let out a roar as his muscles swelled with explosive force. Slowly—astonishingly—he lifted the several-ton heap off the ground.
Crack!
His foot came down on a stone slab, and a fracture instantly spread across its surface under the immense weight. Carrying the mountain of timber, Rhydon marched step by step toward the dojo gates.
...
Inside the main hall, Kael wore a mask over his face, a broom in his left hand and a feather duster in his right. A house that hadn't been cleaned in 10 years—one could imagine the layers of dust.
"Lucky!"
Chansey followed closely behind him, also wearing a mask. She held a mop in both hands, and beside her sat a metal bucket filled with water, a pristine white rag draped over its rim.
Kael dusted first, then swept the debris aside. Chansey followed with the mop, soaking and scrubbing in smooth, methodical strokes. Human and Pokémon worked in perfect coordination, and before long the main hall had been thoroughly cleaned.
It took an entire day, but by sunset, Kael and the others had cleaned the dojo inside and out.
...
The sun dipped below the horizon. Night wind brushed through the surrounding bamboo forest, producing a gentle rustling sound.
"So tired… I don't even want to move."
Kael collapsed onto the wooden corridor in a starfish sprawl. Lulu drifted down softly from the air, her petite body leaning against his chest.
Weavile approached, clasped her hands behind her head, and lay back across Kael's thighs. A faint smile curved her lips as her crimson feline eyes gazed leisurely at the stars scattered across the night sky.
Chansey, having only joined the team a few days ago, was still somewhat shy. She didn't dare get quite so close. Instead, she stood quietly inside the hall, watching Lulu and Weavile with an envious look.
Rhydon, for his part, would have liked nothing more than to join them—but with his sheer size and weight, the wooden corridor wouldn't have held. After being scolded by Kael, he could only sulk on a large stone in the courtyard, stewing in quiet frustration.
The dojo was finally clean. Next would come the renovations—construction materials, new furniture, and a proper refurbishment.
As the saying goes, appearances matter. If Kael intended to secure the official Gym status of Dark City, he first needed a Gym worthy of the name. And its first impression had to be grand, refined, and imposing.
This dojo had stood for over a century. Its heritage and dignity were beyond anything modern buildings could replicate. Though abandoned for 10 years, its structural integrity remained sound. With careful restoration—preserving its traditional aristocratic architectural style—it would leave an unforgettable impression.
Dark City's economy was simply too underdeveloped. Purchasing large quantities of building materials and furniture locally was impossible. He would have to ask Cole in Celadon City to buy a batch and have them transported over by truck.
"You're buying construction materials and furniture?" On the other end of the video call, Cole gnawed on a chicken drumstick while speaking loudly. "Why spend money on that? We've got plenty at the construction site here. I'll send a truck over tomorrow."
Kael smiled. "Isn't that using public resources for private purposes? Aren't you worried the League will come after you?"
Cole tossed the chicken bone into a trash can, utterly unconcerned. "What's the big deal? I'll just mark a little extra material loss on the invoice. Besides, the amount you need to renovate a dojo is nothing."
Hearing this, Kael stopped refusing. Connections were built this way—one favor given, another returned. Back and forth, and the bond only grew stronger.
Ever since Cole handed over that batch of Diglett to the League—preventing a potential Diglett disaster in the region—he'd been living much more comfortably. Rumor had it that a high-ranking League official had publicly commended him at a meeting.
The League had even increased the reservoir project's budget, citing compensation for delays caused by the Diglett issue.
Kael knew perfectly well that the original funding had already been sufficient to complete the reservoir on time and to standard. The extra funds likely found their way into Cole's own pockets.
But he didn't expose him.
Such things were commonplace in governments—no matter the world. As long as corruption wasn't excessive and the project was completed properly and on schedule, the League wouldn't bother chasing down small amounts of money.