Just before the Psybeam could connect, a red light enveloped Gulpin. Mason recalled his Pokémon at the last second, the beam sailing harmlessly past where it had been.

"What a wimp!" Rika blurted out, infuriated by what she perceived as an unfair advantage and cowardly strategy. Her fists clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palms, frustration screaming inside her.

Stop that! she chided herself internally. It's the best move he could've made!

Yet she felt angry about his unfair advantage; he'd still have one swap available!

But her anger didn't make sense. Why was she complaining about losing?

She wanted to lose!

Or rather, she should have wanted to.

Until now, Rika had been unaware of what would be her greatest enemy in this battle.

It was neither Mason, nor the disobedient Oddish, or even Mr. Rosenfeld who might be onto her scheme.

No, she herself—her ego—was her greatest foe.

She hated losing.

And the thought of losing to someone like Mason was particularly galling. Embarassing.

Rika raked her fingers through her hair as if her head was about to explode.

Focus on the battle! she told herself, teeth gritting. Do it for Mason! And then you'll never have to deal with Pokémon again!

As Mason released his next Pokémon, Rika struggled to maintain her composure. She had to remind herself of the bigger picture, of why she was doing this. But the competitive fire within her refused to be extinguished so easily.

It’s just Mason, the referee, and Mr. Rosenfeld watching… she tried to calm herself. And I don’t even have to go to the farewell festival. Once this is over, I’ll leave the village and never see those idiots again! So who cares what they think of me?

She certainly didn’t!

And her parents wouldn’t be mad about her failure either—they were dead, after all.

I’ll just tell Grandpa that Pokémon weren’t for me. He won’t mind. And then… I’ll find some boring job and coast through the rest of my life.

But once people would see her résumé—thinking she was just another aspiring Pokémon Academy student who failed to make it—they’d think twice.

She could have achieved greatness, joining the Elite Four, or maybe even becoming the Champion of Orre. Or she could've moved abroad, leaving this wasteland behind. But not anymore. Now she’d be stuck here forever. And Mason would go on. He’d live his dream. Without her.

That’s fine, she thought. I didn’t even like him that much anyway.

He was just the only one who wasn’t scared of her. The only one who would hang out with her. Even if she beat him up twice a day for his clumsiness and stupidity. He always stuck around. Stupid Bidoof.

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Mason’s next Pokémon appeared on the field, pulling Rika back to the present. She saw a small, dark-furred dog-like creature with sharp teeth and dangerous eyes. Its fur bristled as it growled menacingly at Bedhead.

“Poochyena!” it barked, eager to tear it apart.

A Poochyena? Rika thought, surprised. Did Mason plan this? Did he bait me into using Bedhead so he could counter it with a Dark-type?

In some weird, inexplicable way, this excited Rika. It motivated her. Maybe this boy wasn’t as stupid as she thought. Maybe he’d actually be able to beat her—even if she tried. Oddish would do its best to support him.

“Poochyena, use...” Mason hesitated, his eyes meeting Rika’s for a brief moment.

She put on a determined expression. “Bedhead, we eat Dark-types for breakfast!”

Espurr nodded eagerly, taking a battle stance.

Mason took a step back before regaining his confidence. “G-go! Use Bite!”

There we go!

Poochyena dashed forward, sinking its sharp teeth into Espurr and tearing out bits of its fur.

No blood.

Espurr’s movements were swift and silent, its fluffy paws pushing it into the air. Poochyena chased after it, jaws snapping repeatedly, but always just a hair away from making contact.

The tagging game went on for a while.

Rika didn't dare to command a move, and Espurr wouldn't do so on its own.

Yet Poochyena was just a bit too slow to catch it.

Frustration grew on Mason’s face as he likely wondered what he could do to help.

Yeah, yeah, go on and struggle, waste all your stamina chasing Bedhead.

She was out of swaps, and the matchup was horrible. But at least she could get the Pooch exhausted from running around.

Cold drops dripped onto Rika’s neck, a breeze howling around her legs. She shivered from the cold, regretting not paying attention to the weather forecast.

Hopefully, the fight wouldn’t have to be postponed because of a weather shift. Rain was pretty uncommon around here, though not rare, since they were quite a bit away from the desert.

The chase still continued, with both Poochyena and Espurr panting from the effort. The battlefield was flat and featureless, their moves relatively simple, so there wasn’t much room for complex strategies. Yet, knowledge—especially of your opponent—was worth a lot.

Mason swiped through his Pokédex, desperately searching for something to beat Bedhead. He clearly didn’t realize that this battle would be won automatically over time since Espurr had no moves to seriously harm a Poochyena.

Though, his eyes widened as he found what he was looking for.

A smirk tugged at Rika’s lips. Chosing to make a move when you're already winning—this would be his demise.

“Poochyena, use Swagger!”

Her jaw dropped in an exaggerated manner. "What?! No way it knows that!"

Of course it does.

Mason laughed triumphantly as Poochyena began wiggling its butt toward Bedhead, taunting it, and finally getting it to stop running away.

Depending on a move's skill rank, its effectiveness could vary in strength.

A low-rank Swagger was just what it looked like: an awkward attempt at mockery. But the higher the skill rank, the harder it became for the opponent to resist the taunt, almost as if a dark spell had been cast over them.

Judging by Espurr’s reaction, this must’ve been a high-rank Swagger! Bedhead rushed forward, huffing angrily, claws extended, ready to shred that dog apart.

“Now finish it, Poochyena!” Mason ordered. Poochyena lunged again, teeth bared, growling viciously. But to its surprise, it bit at thin air, jaws clamping down with frustration.

Rika chuckled. It reminded her of that time Mason tried to eat a cake, only for Bidoof to snatch it from under his nose. Maybe that’s where he got the idea for this play.

'Own Tempo'—one of Espurr's possible abilities—protected it from delusional moves such as Swagger. But the bonus in attack that it granted would still persist.

“Fake Out!” Rika ordered, and Bedhead’s form flickered through the air.

Since it was the first time it attacked the Poochyena, the attack's speed drastically increased. However, Bedhead didn’t end up punching Poochyena with this momentum, instead positioning itself right next to its opponent.

Bedhead leaned in close, cupping its paws around its mouth as Poochyena struggled to understand what was happening.

“Ruin its hearing!” Rika yelled. “Disarming Voice!”

Bedhead's eyes glowed pink as it unleashed a piercing cry directly into Poochyena’s ears.

It wasn’t just a simple cry—rather, a haunting melody, both beautiful and terrifying at the same time. The disorienting cacophony seemed to vibrate through the very air itself.

Poochyena howled in pain from the super-effective Fairy-type attack.