After Sakaki's parents had left, abandoning their son for a bagful of cash, Miss Potenza seemed happy to have gotten her way. Why she specifically wanted Sakaki was a mystery, but at this moment in time his mind was wrestling with the sequence of events that had led him here.
The Italians were just as flabbergasted, but they knew better than to ask questions. They resumed their operations, keeping their speculation to themselves. Until Miss Potenza took her leave, that is.
"I am needed elsewhere today," she declared, as her entourage scooped up the pokéballs into black duffel bags. "I will be back for you, we have quite a lot to discuss," she continued, addressing Sakaki directly. Sakaki nodded absently, not really listening. "Cousin Vincent, please take good care of our guest while I am away."
And with that, she was gone.
Through the haze of confusion, Sakaki could see Vinnie trying in vain to figure out what was so special about him. Nothing, nothing at all – Sakaki was coming to realize that his parents had sold him in to slavery.
This fresh betrayal wormed its way through Sakaki's mind, and something dangerous began to take shape within him. His thoughts crossed a threshold that he could never take back, and he knew that, but the utter injustice of it all pushed him towards that dark future.
They would pay, one way or another.
Vinnie grunted and gave up quickly, probably deciding that knowing what Miss Potenza's reasons were was far below his pay grade.
"Hey kid, you hungry? You look like you're hungry. Hey, Tony, fix him up some grub!"
Sakaki watched wordlessly as Tony – the one he'd met at the Fighting Dojo – sat him down at an empty table and put a plate of sandwiches in front of him.
At first, he did nothing, still processing everything that had happened. But the food eventually won out, because it made his stomach grumble. Hunger clawed at him as he picked up a sandwich with some sort of meat between the slices, and he took a bite. Having not eaten a thing since the morning, he felt those initial pangs of hunger, more intense than usual, but nearly immediately afterwards, the taste of the sandwich danced on his tongue – and it was delicious. He wolfed down the rest of the sandwich in a matter of seconds, and grabbed another one.
Tony smiled. "It's delizioso, eh? The best prosciutto in Kanto, my mamma's recipe. Go on, eat! Don't be shy."
Sakaki didn't have to be told twice. He finished all of the sandwiches in a few minutes, and washed them down with some cool water. The plate was emptied, and he sat back, satisfied.
Vinnie came up to him, a mean look on his face. "Hey, listen, what's yer name, kid?"
"Sakaki, sir."
"Sakaki, uh, okay. Well, listen, yer may have Miss Potenza's special favour but dat ain't mean squat here. I'm gonna put yer with them commentor mooks, I ain't got time to babysit."
Sakaki stared at Vinnie. This day had been something out of a nightmare, his entire life had been turned upside down, so he was feeling a little fatalistic.
"Why don't you just put me in the ring?" he asked darkly.
Vinnie blinked. There was no way he could do that, Sakaki saw how he had cowered in Miss Potenza's presence. He talked big but in the end Vinnie was a slave, just like him.
Sakaki smiled wickedly and made his way over to the commentators' table. It was easy enough to find, with the elongated mess of wires on the floor, connected to large radio boxes and microphones, looking like a nest of ekans in the patchy lighting.
He located an empty chair and sat down right next to the commentators, and both of them looked grim when Vinnie signalled for them to watch him. They greeted him, but he said nothing, stewing in his morbid thoughts.
A tall, boisterous man wearing a flashy three-piece suit came up to the table and leaned in. Sakaki smelled a strong aftershave on the man as he looked the boy over.
"Who's this?"
The two commentators shrugged, just flicked their heads in Vinnie's direction, and the man frowned sympathetically. The man's accent was markedly different from the Italians' and his own. Sakaki wondered just how many non-native people he'd encounter before the day was done. Though, Saffron was Kanto's biggest and most important city, so maybe it wasn't all that surprising.
"This isn't any place for kids," he muttered warily.
"We know, but we gotta do what the boss man wants, and Martin's already on thin ice after that whole machop incident," the man on the opposite end of the table replied. He had a deep, baritone voice, and the same accent as the three-piece.
Martin, the third man, sat in quiet contrition next to Sakaki.
Three-piece hummed. "I'm just saying, the fights are violent, and he's sitting here, as close as he can be to the action."
The two commentators shrugged in unison again, clearly more afraid of Vinnie than the possibility of negatively affecting the sensibilities of an impressionable young boy. The man's eyes settled on Sakaki, who suddenly wanted more than anything to stay right where he was. He gave the man his best innocent look. The man grumbled and walked away.
Sakaki followed him with his eyes. He jogged around the ring and climbed up into it, smiling and waving at the crowd. Sakaki realised that he was the ring announcer. A shiny, metallic microphone descended from on high and the man grabbed it with a flourish.
"Goooood afternoon, Saffron City!" he pronounced loudly, and his voice boomed through the speakers all around the arena. The crowd responded in kind, the ground vibrating in waves with their shouts and cries.
"My name is Jackson Carter and I will be your host for today's special event!"
Carter pranced around the ring with the microphone, giving the entire crowd his full attention. He stopped in the center and lowered his register.
"We've got a treat for all you passionate supporters out there. For the first time at this wonderful venue – now, I'm told this will be a one-off, so thank your lucky stars for making it out today..."
He spoke almost conversationally, and Sakaki was fascinated by how easily he charmed the crowd with his words. The man oozed charisma, both in voice and in disposition.
"...For the first time here in Kanto's Golden Land, its headlock spells certain doom, the only gladiator to possess a perfect record so far this season, give it up for Brutus the Destroyer!"
A shadow crept up near Sakaki, and the hulking figure of its owner stomped through the tunnel right next to him. Sakaki had never seen such a big pokémon up close – it positively dwarfed him in size.
The huge, grey machamp climbed into the ring. It lifted up its four arms, and roared in greeting, eliciting fresh screams from the audience. Its body was slick with some sort of oil, which accentuated its bulging muscles in the bright lights of the arena.
"Here to defend its title, a Saffron native that has repeatedly bucked tradition and has rebuffed any designation of a ring name... The silent killer from the world-renowned Saffron City Fighting Dojo, and the current reigning champion, it's Hitmonlee!"
From the tunnel at the opposite end of the arena, the hitmonlee that Sakaki had met earlier in the day calmly entered the ring. It stood facing its counterpart with its eyes closed. It almost looked like it was meditating. Sakaki remembered the old man in the white gi and red belt, and the problems his son had caused. Was this a desperate attempt to win the Fighting Dojo back?
Carter drew the fans to a large scoreboard that depicted a six-pokémon tournament bracket.
"Our two elite fighters will go directly to the second round!" he proclaimed, pointing with two fingers at the board. Sure enough, the machamp and hitmonlee panels were hung on the second round spots. "Now, let's call up the contenders, those brave enough to challenge these undisputed beasts in the ring!"
Four more pokémon jogged out of the tunnels and got into the ring. Sakaki noticed the hitmonchan from the Fighting Dojo – well, having two pokémon in the tournament would certainly increase one's chances of winning – but he was more interested in the others, because he'd never seen these pokémon before. They all had what looked like a permanently angry expression on their faces.
Carter was giving their introductions, the keeper at the scoreboard was readying the panels, and Sakaki watched intently.
"...its rapid, lethal punches, the Duke of Death!" The hitmonchan shadow-boxed and raised its arms up, accepting praise from the spectators.
"Known to capitalize on even the smallest of mistakes, raise your voices for Razor!" The scyther sharpened its blades against each another, setting off impressive sparks, and posed for the fans.
A large, brown beetle was next. "It can end a match in an instant and cleave you in half with its signature move, give it up for Chop-Chop!" Sakaki read the panel, it was called a pinsir, and judging by the massive pair of pincers on its head, he had no reason to doubt Carter's assertion.
"Last, but certainly not least, it's been making waves in the rookie division, and today is its first call up to the big leagues! Let's give our special welcome to Torrent Wrath!" The bulky poliwrath beat its chest as the crowd shouted uproariously, and Sakaki had to plug his ears with his fingers.
Carter appraised the lineup of fighters and smiled widely. "This is going to be one for the history books, folks! The odds are favourable, so place your bets! Hurry, before the counter closes. And remember, cash only!"
He indicated the location of the counter, where Sakaki had met Vinnie and where his life had taken an abrupt turn off a cliff.
Carter let go of the microphone, and climbed out of the ring, returning to the commentators' table.
Sakaki watched as the microphone ascended back up and into the darkness that held the rafters. He noticed a muted glint up there, but could not tell what it was.
He blinked and followed the frenzied sounds of the punters, and he knew the tables that had been cleared earlier would again be sagging under the weight of so much currency before long. He briefly considered what he would do with all of that money, of how he would lord it over his parents and bear sweet witness to their comeuppance.
"It's time, folks! To start things off, the first match is Razor versus the Duke of Death!"
The baritone was leaning in close to his microphone, eyes on the ring, where the scyther and hitmonchan were standing in opposite corners. Sakaki noticed a small group of people standing around each pokémon. The three men surrounding the scyther all wore fur pelts, the leader donning a cloak that looked especially ostentatious. They were Tamers. On the other side, the hitmonchan listened as two men in white karate gi discussed strategy. Sakaki didn't see the old man, but one of the men looked like a younger version of him. He guessed that was the son of ill fortune.
The bell rang, three quick chimes, and the humans cleared away.
...And Razor was pushed back by an incredible force. Somehow, it had the presence of mind to put up a block with its scythes.
Sakaki blinked, wondering what just happened.
"The Duke wastes no time, throwing a Mach Punch!"
The hitmonchan had thrown a punch, but it was too quick for Sakaki's eyes. The scyther advanced and attacked with its blades. Its attacks were also too quick to track, but Sakaki managed to pick up the movements of the fighters after a minute or so.
Both pokémon had been dodging their opponent's attacks for almost three minutes when Martin, who'd been simply agreeing with Baritone's commentary up until that point, suddenly spoke up.
"Looks like the Duke is losing steam! It prefers to win quickly since it becomes fatigued after three minutes, but Razor's speed is proving to be troublesome for the veteran boxer!"
"That's its weakness after all, Martin. But it would be foolish for Razor to think it can win just off that! The hitmonchan has an amazing, indomitable spirit!" Baritone replied.
Sakaki looked on. The hitmonchan certainly looked winded, and Sakaki thought this would be the perfect time to strike, but the scyther simply hovered in mid-air, waiting. Its eyes were focused on its opponent, and Sakaki wondered if there was some sort of code of honour that it was following. If it was him, he would press the attack and not let the hitmonchan rest. He would exploit the weakness and snatch victory before it had the chance to retaliate.
Martin summarised the situation, barely reigning in his excitement. "The Duke's three minutes are up! It needs to rest, right in the middle of the fight! Can it withstand an onslaught from Razor?"
"No Martin, the Duke isn't just resting," Baritone chided. "It's Coaching itself, too! So when it's ready to resume, it will be stronger than before."
That sounded interesting, and Sakaki focused on the hitmonchan again. It did look like some sort of red aura had encompassed the pokémon. If Coaching made the hitmonchan stronger, then all the more reason for the scyther to interrupt it now. Sakaki didn't have a winner in mind when this fight started, but looking at the ring, he was certain the hitmonchan would win due to the scyther's indecision.
The red aura faded away and the hitmonchan threw another Mach Punch up toward the flying green bug. The scyther easily evaded the attack, and fired one of its own in a luminous green arc, in the shape of a large X. This one connected, pushing the boxing pokémon backwards onto the ropes.
The scyther launched itself at its opponent, hoping to pin it with its next flurry of attacks, but the hitmonchan recovered quickly and dodged at the last second. The crowd gasped as Razor's next attack, pitched at near-point-blank range, missed its target. In that instant, the Duke performed a Feint, which forced the scyther to land, and the hitmonchan followed up immediately with a Low Sweep attack.
Martin, the man who initially seemed so quiet and reserved, and ill-suited to commentating, became even more animated as he watched. He expounded his sheer awe at the fight unfolding in front of him: "Incredible moves from the hitmonchan! He thoroughly deserves his royal title, and Razor looks to be hurting, having squandered its earlier opportunity for victory!"
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
The hitmonchan dashed to the scyther, taking advantage of its opening. It got off a flurry of punches before the scyther managed to escape. The bug managed to pull itself away moments before the Duke of Death directed another Mach Punch at the floor, leaving a noticeable whorl of damage in the center of the ring.
Razor screeched, loud enough to overpower the shouts of the spectators. It began running around the hitmonchan in a circle, its speed increasing with every orbit. Sakaki rubbed his eyes in disbelief. The scyther was running so fast that it was leaving after-images in its wake. The hitmonchan fired more of its signature move at it, to no avail.
"The Duke of Death's Mach Punch just isn't connecting today–"
Sakaki followed the fight, enthralled as the scyther hurled itself at the hitmonchan with blinding speed. It hacked at its body with a Slash, and then attempted to perform a U-turn to flee. The hitmonchan tanked both attacks, and somehow contrived to grab the scyther, pinning it with its powerful arms. The scyther performed another U-turn, breaking free with a mighty upward swing of its blades.
Everyone watched with bated breath as the scyther took flight and the hitmonchan's severed hands fell to the floor.
There was a pregnant pause as spectators, commentators and pokémon all processed the last five seconds in their heads. The Duke of Death broke the silence, letting out a horrific, shrill scream that reverberated through the entire arena.
A collective clamour from the spectators followed, everyone shocked by the bloody turn of events. It was obvious from the stains on the ropes and floor of the ring that blood featured in plenty of fights, but definitely not this much blood. The hitmonchan continued to bleed out as the men in karate uniforms sprung into action. Their bright white gi were quickly soaked in red as they tried to save the pokémon.
Sakaki's eyes were transfixed on the commotion in front of him. He had felt the spatter hit him when the hitmonchan's hands were severed. Heedless, he quickly wiped off some blood from his face. He did not perceive the commentators next to him as they relayed the shocking scene, nor did he hear Carter stumble through declaring the scyther the winner. Seconds slowly ticked by as he stared at the ring, and took in the sheer brutality.
And he was smiling.
A couple of Vinnie's men quickly cleared the ring, and they had actually prepared replacement flooring, which was installed in a matter of minutes. The ring looked as good as new once they finished. This illegal fighting ring certainly ran in a legitimate and professional manner. It was an impressive, if clandestine, operation.
Carter again charmed the crowd, announcing the next fight and opening the betting counter as if nothing had happened. Sakaki supposed that money trumped all – even a gruesome and barbaric incident that would stay for a long time with those who witnessed it. A valuable lesson that he stowed away in his mind. Sakaki was sure that if it wasn't already dead, the hitmonchan was soon bound to be.
The pinsir and poliwrath entered the ring. The bell was rung, and Sakaki adjusted his seat in anticipation of another thrilling match.
Instead, the contenders had decided to compete in a different kind of contest.
Both pokémon stepped through different poses, flexing their muscles and showboating in order to gain as much applause and adulation from the spectators as possible. The crowd was initially pleased by their acts, but eventually they settled in a low murmur, with a smattering of laughs. To Sakaki, it seemed completely unnecessary. A deep scowl fell on his face.
Martin noticed this and mopped his brow. "Uh, seems like our fighters need a bit more warm-up time!" he said, chuckling nervously. The pinsir's tamer climbed up and berated his pokémon. Chop-Chop immediately switched to an aggressive stance, signalling the end of an embarrassing farce. Sakaki was slightly mollified after that.
The poliwrath, named Torrent Wrath, Sakaki remembered, challenged its opponent by keeping itself wide open. It clearly felt like it had something to prove, being the rookie. Chop-Chop did not take the insult well, and advanced on the blue fighter, and their limbs became locked in a test of strength.
They were evenly matched, neither pokémon yielding an inch. They held this position for a good few minutes, demonstrating incredible levels of stamina, with muscles straining and groans escaping through clenched teeth.
"We have a battle of attrition, folks," Baritone remarked. "The pinsir and poliwrath are of equal mass, both weighing in at a hefty fifty-eight-point-three kilograms, so it's no surprise that we have a deadlock!"
"Something's gotta give, man," Martin huffed. "Both pokémon are known for being quite stubborn, and this impasse is the perfect example. And look, Torrent Wrath appears to be weakening!"
The poliwrath had fallen onto one knee, which certainly made it look like it was losing. Surprisingly, it had done so intentionally, in order to position itself for its next manoeuver: lifting the pinsir up high. The spectators whooped loudly, appreciating the sheer strength it took to perform such an amazing feat.
"And Chop-Chop flails about, as useless as a magikarp! A fantastic move by the newbie!"
Torrent Wrath swayed to and fro as he rotated his arms, the heavy pinsir utterly helpless. It sped up its looping movements, pirouetting faster and faster, and Sakaki suspected its strategy was to disorient Chop-Chop, which was not a bad idea. He wondered if the match was already over.
The poliwrath suddenly threw itself to the floor, viciously hurling its opponent to the ground. The impact shook the surrounding area, and Sakaki thrummed in excitement. That was such a powerful finishing move!
"Torrent Wrath executes a modified version of Submission, but the move definitely left it hurting! Chop-Chop is down, and the timekeeper is performing the ten-count! If it doesn't get up in time, it loses by knockout!"
Amazingly, the pinsir shakily got up just after the number nine was called. It jerked its head from side to side in an effort to clear the confusion.
"Chop-Chop is up! It definitely took the brunt of the poliwrath's attack!" Martin could hardly contain himself. "We have ourselves another thrilling match here, folks!"
The poliwrath attempted to capitalize on the pinsir's distraction, ploughing towards its opponent with a Body Slam. The pinsir expected it, and being aware that it was at a corner of the ring, dodged the attack and caught the poliwrath in its trap. A fighter caught in a corner was at a huge disadvantage. Now the poliwrath would be on the defensive, which was incongruous to its fighting style.
The pinsir let loose a rush of slicing attacks, each one hitting its mark even with the poliwrath defending. The Fury Cutter increased in power as each attack connected, and the poliwrath attempted desperately to prevent being overwhelmed.
But Torrent Wrath was firm. It managed to weather the assault, and dashed forward when the attacks began to peter out. Chop-Chop was becoming fatigued, and still recovering from the Submission earlier. The poliwrath's Body Slam hit this time, knocking the pinsir down on its back.
"Oooh, that's gotta hurt!" Martin winced.
"Torrent Wrath might have paralyzed its opponent with that move," mused Baritone.
The poliwrath made the mistake of celebrating too early, pumping its fists in the air to screams from the excited crowd. The pinsir grabbed the opportunity, and launched itself at the blue pokémon head-first. The poliwrath was ensnared in the bug pokémon's spiky pincers, and the crowd gasped in surprise. Sakaki smirked, enjoying the constant battle for supremacy unfolding in front of him.
Chop-Chop tried to pull off its signature move, but the poliwrath's strong, all-muscle body was able to withstand the immense force being applied by the pinsir's grip. A look of agitation settled on the pinsir's face, as it tried to squeeze with all its might. With its arms free, Torrent Wrath could stave off the attack, but it was clearly placing much strain on the pokémon.
"Another battle of attrition, Chop-Chop's Vise Grip against Torrent Wrath's raw strength! But this time, Torrent Wrath could be snapped in half if it loses! The stakes couldn't be higher, folks!"
Sakaki found it remarkable that the two pokémon could fight for so long, expending such vast amounts of energy, and yet still have the willpower to continue. The previous fight with the scyther and hitmonchan was the first time Sakaki had seen such wanton violence up close, so it had made a lasting impression on him, but this fight was proving to be memorable in its own right.
The second stalemate did not last as long as the first. Chop-Chop, frustrated with its failure to crush its opponent, attempted to fling it instead... but the poliwrath was waiting for it. As the pinsir executed its toss, Torrent Wrath nimbly grabbed hold of the bug pokémon and rotated its own body, throwing the pinsir off-balance. Instead of the blue pokémon being thrown, it was the brown one that ended up slamming head-first into the ground. The swift volley took mere seconds, but its destructive power sent shockwaves through the arena.
For a long moment, Martin seemed to have forgotten to breathe. He sputtered as Three-piece checked the pinsir. "A-a-amazing Reversal by the poliwrath! That move carried immense risk, but Torrent Wrath went for it without hesitation. I've never seen anything like it!"
"And the pinsir has been knocked out cold!" Baritone exclaimed.
"Chop-Chop is unable to fight!" Three-piece declared. "The winner, by knockout, is Torrent Wrath!"
The crowd went wild. Sakaki let the sounds of euphoria wash over him as the commentators did their post-fight commentary.
"Chop-Chop and Torrent Wrath were evenly matched on paper," Baritone said, as Vinnie's men descended on the ring, giving it a quick clean-up. "The poliwrath gained the upper hand through its relentless assault, not allowing the pinsir a moment of rest. It wore down its opponent, and the result could be summed up simply as youth winning over experience."
The next fight was the first in round two, with the hitmonlee and machamp, the elite fighters, participating. The betting counter was once again a buzz of activity, the odds heavily stacked against the scyther and poliwrath. People were making safe bets, even though the contenders had pulled off impressive wins.
"Now, our first fight in the second round, Razor versus Hitmonlee!"
The instant the bell chimed, the scyther flew up and launched itself towards the hitmonlee. The kickboxer remained perfectly still, eyes shut, and Sakaki was sure it would be hit by the scyther's attack. The hitmonlee's owner, the son of the Fighting Dojo Master, wore a face fraught with worry. He seemed like a person who could not help but hedge his bets, even when his loss was a foregone conclusion. He had already lost one of his pokémon, and Sakaki sighed thinking of the old man and how his son would explain the events of the day to him.
The scyther's Slash failed to make contact. At the last moment, the hitmonlee dodged the attack. Simultaneously, Sakaki noticed the hitmonlee open its eyes, its steely gaze trained on its opponent. In the next moment, it was behind Razor, and Sakaki felt like time stood still.
By now, he'd become familiar with the speed and the movements of the fighters. At first he was not able to follow their attacks, it was like they were gone in a blink, and back the next. But after a time, his eyes had become accustomed to it, and he could even make out the colour of the blur when a pokémon with exceptional speed, like the scyther, pushed itself even faster.
But he was not able to follow the hitmonlee's attack.
"The hitmonlee demonstrates the gap in ability, and Razor falls!"
Just a gap? That looked more like a chasm!
"Really top-tier stuff from the hitmonlee, Martin! Razor was completely outclassed in that short little skirmish."
"Not only did it employ Mind Reader and Foresight in quick succession, it chose to use Retaliate in the moment! It sent two clear messages to the scyther: this is an elite-level fight, and it will avenge it's fallen brother!"
The scyther winced as it strained to get to its feet. That last attack must have hurt more than normal. Sakaki could not see how it would possibly contend with the hitmonlee's obvious and masterful skill.
The hitmonlee pressed the attack, extending its leg a surprising distance, in a kick that looked deadly. The scyther was quicker, flying up and over, and it turned its evasion into a springboard for its own attack. It let loose an Air Slash, as Baritone remarked, which forced the hitmonlee to put up a defense with its arms. Razor followed up with an attack so powerful it immediately broke that defense and threw the hitmonlee several feet. The ropes around the ring snapped back and vibrated as they absorbed the momentum, and the hitmonlee landed in a heap on the floor.
Martin is ecstatic. "Razor pulls one out of nowhere! That was Acrobatics, a high-level move that usually takes years to master!"
"Well, Martin, the scyther is certainly rising to the challenge. No-one expected that! Seems as though it kept that special combo a secret."
It was the scyther that now had the advantage. It rushed forward, readying its scythes for its next attack. The hitmonlee was barely on its feet.
Sakaki had been pleasantly surprised by the pokémon in the ring in nearly every bout. Seeing them duke it out had given him a greater appreciation of their talents.
So when a white towel suddenly appeared, thrown high up into the air and unmistakable, Sakaki gasped as the unexpected object fell into the ring and the bell rang. Everyone and everything stopped.
Both Baritone and Martin sounded incredulous, initially talking over one another in a frenzy.
"The hitmonlee's owner has forfeited!"
The crowd swelled into an uproar. Sakaki followed the son of the Fighting Dojo Master as he climbed up into the ring and helped the hitmonlee out of it. Somehow, he didn't begrudge the man, whose fear of losing the pokémon outweighed his compulsion to win the tournament. He had chosen wisely, and though it had probably angered a lot of powerful people, Sakaki understood his reasoning.
The next fight was the rookie, Torrent Wrath, against Brutus the Destroyer, who, Sakaki recalled, had yet to lose a match this season.
Things returned to normal with the ring of the bell.
The poliwrath kicked things off with Rain Dance. A localised thunderstorm began forming above the center of the ring, and the spectators closest to the ring pulled out umbrellas. Martin grinned as he passed one to Sakaki, who accepted it nervously. He hoped the electronics under his feet were water-proof.
The poliwrath took some time to prepare an attack, and the machamp just stood there, waiting. Torrent Wrath let out a scream as it launched what looked like a swirling vortex of water. The attack slammed into Brutus head-on, empowered by the Rain Dance. The crowd exclaimed loudly, the previous fight already forgotten.
"Torrent Wrath has trapped Brutus the Destroyer inside a fast, violent, swirling Whirlpool! Looks like the combo was developed specifically for this opponent!"
Sakaki peered into the ring, through the rain-filled haze, and he could just make out the machamp inside the maelstrom. Brutus... looked bored.
The poliwrath noticed it, too. It advanced on the machamp, throwing its muscular body through its own tornado, intending to perform a Body Slam.
Brutus the Destroyer threw a punch, and it connected directly with the poliwrath's face. The thundercloud dissipated, and the swirling gyre of water stopped abruptly. The deluge caused a minor flood in the ring. Torrent Wrath fell to the ground, unconscious.
"Your winner by knockout, after forty-five seconds, Brutus the Destroyer!"
Sakaki laughed. That was amazing.
The machamp did not leave the ring. Instead, it signalled for the scyther, its next opponent, to come. It looked almost impatient with its four arms folded and waiting.
"The undefeated fighter has issued a challenge! No intermission, I guess we're going straight to the final, folks!"
The scyther entered the ring and eyed the huge machamp warily. The floor was wet and slippery, so it hovered in mid-air. There was a sudden, loud clang as some machinery cranked into motion. Sakaki looked up, and realised that the glint he saw earlier was of a large metal cage. It descended on the ring, trapping the fighters. Sakaki caught the flicker of panic on the scyther's face as the cage reached the floor.
"Ladies and gents, welcome to the grand final! A special cage match, Razor versus Brutus the Destroyer!"
Razor the scyther was most impressive in its fights during this tournament, but Brutus was massive and deserving of being called an elite. Its presence alone would make anyone nervous. The machamp was content to let its size intimidate the scyther; Sakaki thought it was a little presumptuous, since the green pokémon had engineered surprising, match-winning attacks in its previous fights.
But even though Sakaki had taken a liking to Razor, it pulling off a major upset was unlikely. The green flying bug seemed hesitant to engage its opponent, but it had little space to manoeuver. Perhaps if the sycther succeeded in luring it in and striking with Acrobatics? No, something told Sakaki that feints would not work on Brutus.
The match wore on in stalemate for a long five minutes. Both pokémon simply observed the other, one creeping slowly around while the other tracked its movement from its stationary point just off the center of the ring. The assembled spectators began to bristle with impatience, and the sentiment seemed to feed into the ring. The scyther was the first to attack.
"Here we go!" said Martin, as he wiped away nervous sweat droplets from his face.
Razor fired off a barrage of Bug Buzz and Air Slash attacks, ranged moves that Sakaki thought were prudent choices to start with.
The machamp tanked it all without flinching.
There was nothing for it, Razor's best and strongest attack required getting close, and it had to bring the pain if it had any chance at winning. But simply charging in would not be smart, that was a mistake it had learned from watching the poliwrath. The scyther began running in a wide arc around the machamp, picking up speed with every passing second. Sakaki stared in awe as it once again left after-images in its wake.
The scyther launched another barrage of ranged attacks, using the kicked-up water as cover for the moment it would strike with a combination Slash and Acrobatics. Sakaki followed the movements through the green blur, and the pokémon definitely executed every attack perfectly. The machamp's body had been pelted with them, and it was definitely pushed back a step.
But Brutus the Destroyer was simply too strong. Once the dust settled, it was clear that Brutus had won.
The giant machamp gripped the scyther in its arms, Razor's body splayed out in a staryu-esque position. Each of the bug pokémon's appendages were held fast in a vise by the machamp's monstrous hands. The grey beast had a frightening look on its face as it pulled, and Razor's chittering screams reverberated through the entire arena.
Sakaki kept his eyes trained on the horror in front of him. He regarded the eyes of the victor, seeking bloodlust, and the eyes of the prey, its light already gone. His eager focus remained undisturbed as Vinnie's men scrambled to avoid another pokémon death. Even the blood spatter that sailed through the air and fell on him – some warm, red ichor finding its way into his mouth – could not break his concentration.
This... this was incredible. Pokémon were right to be feared, they possessed powers and abilities far beyond anything a human could muster. Sakaki realised all those years pilfering pokémon were a terrible waste. He had had nearly a hundred of these powerhouses and didn't know it.
If he had the opportunity to own a pokémon, he could gain so much power. With an arsenal of these beasts at his disposal, he could become anything he wanted. His mind considered the possibilities, the grand schemes he could pull off once he had mastered such power. The cards he'd been dealt in life would not matter, he would not be bound by tragic and inescapable circumstance.
Thinking over the course of his life, right up to his current situation, he had learned not to cling to past mistakes. These were experiences he had needed to endure, to know better, and he would do better because of them. He remembered the events of the past few days, from stealing the pokéball trial entrance papers, to participating in the trial, to capturing that damn caterpie, and followed the line like little breadcrumbs in his mind.
At the end of that line, a plan began to take shape. A plan to claim his freedom, to chase after those dreams he'd been forced to choke down for so many years. A plan that involved pokémon and power and bending the whole world to his will.
And revenge. Revenge long overdue, and inexorable.
When Miss Potenza's assistant came to collect him, Sakaki saw opportunity instead of entrapment, and smiled.