Novels2Search

Unofficial Tournament Arc

“I won’t let you take me down like you did my friends, you're just bullying us, Mr. No Badge,” the young trainer declared with a mix of defiance and nervousness as she faced me.

I leaned against the sun-warmed boulder, watching with a smirk as the eager 12-year-old across the field called out her Spearow. Such innocence, believing in the 'power of friendship' and all that jazz. If only life were as simple as a Saturday morning cartoon.

Spearow, a small bird with a rage as big as its wingspan, flapped aggressively, its eyes filled with hate, I think just at the world in general. I couldn't help but chuckle. "Ah, to be young and unjaded," I called out, a hint of sarcasm touching my voice. "Before learning that the world often favours the cunning serpent over the noble Spearow." I know I’m being cruel, but I promise it’s for a good cause.

"Ekans, you're up." I said casually, pointing at the battlefield. The serpent Pokémon slithered forward, its eyes glinting with a sly intelligence that reflected my own.

“Begin!” the walking billboard called out. “You got this Spearow!” he called out after starting the match. So much for not showing favouritism ref. The call to victory was joined by other kids gathered around watching the unofficial tournament the sponsored trainer, Benny, had started.

Spearow dived, a brave but predictable move. "Here comes the part where the underdog thinks he's got a chance," I mused aloud. I directed Ekans calmly. "Leer, let's shake its confidence a bit." Ekans' intimidating gaze met Spearow's, causing the little bird to falter mid-flight.

Shame, he should have used his own Leer on Ekans, chock that mistake up to experience. When Benny decided to invite the trainers in the outpost into a friendly tournament, he put in the condition that it was for trainers that had only earned up to one badge in previous seasons. It meant it was mostly 10- or 11-year-olds with the odd older kid at 12 that did abysmal last season. With one very obvious exception, me.

"Nice try, kid," I called out to the opposing trainer, "But this isn't a feel-good movie where the underdog wins. This is the real world, where Ekans eat Spearows for breakfast."

As Spearow regained its composure and swooped in again, I waited for the perfect moment. 'Ekans, Poison Sting!' The precision was clinical; it had better be, considering the gruelling workout Yasmin had been putting us through the last three days. She could not have cared less that I just got released by the nurses, it was out of the ward and into bootcamp. Her exact phrasing was ‘You are not going to go out into the world and embarrass me.’ Don’t know how my actions would reflect her but I wasn’t given much choice in the matter. Back to the matter at hand, Spearow was hit mid-flight, its movements quickly growing sluggish as the poison took effect.

"You should've packed an Antidote," I shouted across the field, voice laced with a mock sympathy that didn't reach my eyes. Honestly, I had Ekans antidote in my bag but we were still near the outpost and I had given the nurses a heads up to have Ekans antidote to hand.

The young trainer's face displayed a mix of worry and determination. 'Spearow, Quick Attack!' At her command, Spearow blurred into motion, almost disappearing like a swift shadow. It was a brief but impressive display, reminiscent of a ninja's vanishing trick. Every time I witnessed such a move, I couldn't help but think how cool it looked. Not letting that show on my face though, would ruin the whole bully vibe I’ve got going here.

But I was already two steps ahead and my murder noodle was too. Ekans' tail, already glowing from the moment the opponent called out Quick Attack, struck as Spearow reappeared to strike out with its claws at Ekans' body. Ekans struck, with a force that sent Spearow tumbling to the ground. We had discussed the likelihood that many early Pokémon would use this move and that we wouldn’t be able to dodge. So, this was our counter for the tournament: Ekans would use Iron Tail when he hears the opponent call out Quick Attack, then hit as he feels himself being struck. Not a perfect plan but it’s worked so far.

As Spearow struggled to rise, I felt a twinge of respect for the young trainer's I had been crushing, not a one backed down despite my win streak. Not bad for a bunch of kids, but it's time to end this little drama.

"Spearow, return!" The young trainer's voice cracked slightly, the weight of defeat settling in.

I walked over, Ekans following with a triumphant hiss. "Remember, in the world of Pokémon, it's not always the cutest who wins. Sometimes, it's the one with poison and a metal tail. Who am I kidding, it’s always going to be the Ekans over the Sunday roast.

Alright, I have teed you up mr hero, why don’t you get a move on already.

“Hey” and there you are Benny, just as expected “I’m not going to just let you leave like that.”

“It’s a free region, why can’t I?”

“You think you're strong because you beat a bunch of kids? Why don’t you try someone with a bit of experience?” That was an understatement. Over the last couple of days, I had looked into Benny. He had secured all 8 badges in his first season, and even though he was quickly eliminated from the tournament, achieving that was no small feat. However, my observations of him around the kids these past few days painted a different picture. He barely trained, if at all, preferring to bask in the adoration of his new fan club. There was also no sign of his father's Charizard that had been pivotal to his last season's success according to the posts I read online. He boasted that he was all grown up now, ready to make it on his own. At least, that was the drivel he was peddling. If I were his father, I’d have reclaimed my Pokémon and shown him the door as well. But with all the kids and sponsors lavishing praise on him for his supposed great potential this season, I doubted he’d ever recognize the truth of his situation as a nepo baby. I say Baby he was easily 17 as well.

Now, you might be wondering why I have an issue with Benny. Why did I join a tournament teeming with beginner trainers? Technically, I'm one too, but if this is the calibre of trainer that the school produces, I’m relieved I skipped it. The root of my discontent traces back to the day I enrolled in Yasmin’s "totally optional" (read: mandatory under threat of eternal nagging) boot camp.

***

Yasmin hauled me to a clearing near the outpost and, despite my broken arm, made me run laps. Yes, with my broken arm. The woman handed me pain meds as casually as if they were candy and lectured me on how a wild Pokémon wouldn't let me off easily because I was in pain. When I complained, she likened me to a whining toddler, which, for the record, had absolutely no effect on my decision to start running. I'm a big boy after all, such tactics are beneath me.

While Ekans, Venonat, and I competed on what was completely even footing, it's important to clarify that I was absolutely not lapped multiple times by both the pool noodle and the beachball. Such an occurrence would defy all logic, given one's diminutive legs and the other's complete lack thereof. So, to set the record straight, during our entirely neck-and-neck race, Yasmin took the opportunity to focus on Primeape, aiming to evolve her.

I must admit, I've never encountered a more formidable Pokémon. Primeape exuded an aura of sheer intimidation, as if she'd dedicated every single day of her existence to mastering push-ups. The moment she burst from her Pokéball, my steps faltered. Without a glance at any of us, she struck down a tree with a single, powerful chop, then effortlessly lifted it, starting to bench press the hefty timber as if it were a mere twig.

"Damn, Primeape, pass the steroids,” I blurted out without thinking. “All Yas gave me are some painkillers, I want to bench press a tree too”, I grumbled. My words, however, instantly made me regret drawing Primeape’s attention. With astonishing ease, she hurled the tree aside and stomped directly at me. Ekans and Venonat tried to step in and defend me, but they might as well have been as inanimate as the tree. In a display of sheer power, Primeape scooped them up by the scruff and tossed them aside, lumping them together in a dishevelled heap. I really thought Primeapes would be smaller; in the games, they don’t seem that big, but this monkey reached up to my neckline.

“Prime ape?” she growled, locking eyes with me. I quickly glanced over at Yasmin, catching the shake of her head. The restrained panic in her eyes and the tense posture of her Sandslash spoke volumes. Great, I had somehow befriended the one person who power-levelled her Pokémon without having the necessary badges to keep them in check. Not that I believed it worked exactly like in the games, but if it did, work contract be damned, I’d be dragging Yas to the nearest gym tonight. Well, in for a penny and all that.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“Those are some cannons you've got on you.” What girl wouldn't appreciate a bit of flattery? Primeape, apparently. She sized me up with a look that could only be described as disdainful, then let out a snort of disgust. It felt like a seasoned bodybuilder sizing up a gym novice. But that gave me an idea on how to win this powerhouse over. Just as she seemed to decide whether to punch me into the next reincarnation or simply walk away, I seized the moment to ask the golden question: “Can you spot me?”

‘Prime?’ Primeape paused, clearly waiting for me to elaborate.

“I’m pretty new to working out,” I explained, gesturing weakly with my injured arm to draw her attention. “I could really use some advice and a spotter to avoid further injury. But I’ve got to keep pushing for those gains, injury or not.” She nodded in response, and it took every ounce of self-control to not burst out laughing. Because of her neck—or lack thereof—her nod was more of a body rock. Yet, it was unmistakably the gym nod of respect.

***

“No, just no,” Yasmin finally managed, her disbelief giving way to firm opposition.

“What,” I panted between curls, “do you mean ‘no’?” I grunted, continuing to one-arm bicep curl a rock Primeape had found for me. Every so often, she'd smack my arm to correct my form, guiding me through a surprisingly well-thought-out and efficient workout, all while considering my injury.

“She,” Yasmin pointed, her finger trembling with indignation at her own Pokémon, who maintained a look of pure animosity despite her otherwise helpful behaviour, “has been on a near-murderous streak with almost everyone she’s met for the past year.”

“She must’ve been meeting some really crappy people then,” I retorted as I finished my set. Primeape expressed her agreement with a supportive grunt.

"I hate you, I hate you all," she muttered, slumping to the ground in defeat. Sandslash, ever the loyal companion, began fanning her with a large leaf he had picked up, trying to offer some relief.

"Oh, get over it. Weren't you planning to try and evolve Primeape?" I remarked, taking a seat with Primeape's nod of approval for a rest break—she had been incredibly strict about the workout regimen. At the mention of evolution, Primeape visibly bristled with agitation. This led to a prolonged debate between the two. Primeape was resistant, skeptical of Yasmin's assurances that she could become stronger, while Yasmin persisted, attempting to persuade her to consider the strategy we had discussed. From their body language, that much was clear to me. Meanwhile, my team and I, including Heracross, were engaged in practice drills under Sandslash's guidance as the two attempted to resolve their differences. Unfortunately they were interrupted before any resolution could be reached.

Benny made his entrance with all the subtlety of a Gyarados in a pond, drawing the attention of everyone present. "Look here, kids, a perfect example of how not to be a trainer," he sneered, clearly enjoying the moment as the kids around him snickered in agreement.

Yasmin, usually composed, bristled at the comment. "If you're so confident, why not prove it? Let's battle and see who really knows how to train their Pokémon," she challenged, stepping forward with a determination that made even Benny pause.

Benny's smirk faded for a moment, replaced by a calculated look as he weighed his options. Then, with the same arrogance, he laughed it off. "Battle you? I think not. I have better things to do than waste my time on trivial challenges. My students need me." He turned on his heel, dismissing Yasmin and the challenge outright, but not before adding, "Besides, it wouldn't be fair to embarrass you in front of all these kids."

As Benny walked away, Primeape, who had been simmering with barely contained rage, saw her chance. She charged silently, intent on exacting a fierce retribution for the insult. The children, fortunately, had run ahead of Benny to find another clearing to train.

Yasmin, with reflexes as sharp as a Scyther's blade, didn't hesitate. "Primeape, return," she commanded, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. In the crucial moment, Primeape was absorbed back into her Pokéball, her aggressive charge interrupted mid-leap towards Benny. The suddenness of it all caused Benny to whirl around, and the sight of his near-miss with disaster painted a ghostly pallor across his face, a stark contrast to his usual bravado. For a fleeting second, fear flickered in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the danger he'd narrowly escaped. Attempting to regain his composure, he quickly turned away, masking his fear as he hurried to catch up with the kids.

Yasmin clutched Primeape's Pokéball tightly, turning to face the disappointed expressions of our group. We were all lined up, an audience to the recent dramatics.

“What?” she snapped, irritation lacing her tone. “Was I supposed to let her kill him?”

“Yes.”

“San.”

“Eka.”

“Ven.”

“Her.”

One by one, we voiced our agreement, much to her vexation.

“Psychos, the lot of you,” she retorted, exasperated. “Do any of you even care that I’m a ranger?”

We exchanged glances, engaging in a brief, silent conversation through our eyes. After a moment of silent consensus, I stepped forward, appointed by the group as our spokesperson.

“No.”

We all nodded at each other, a mixture of defiance and pride in our unity.

Yasmin could only stare for a moment before her frustration melted away, replaced by amusement at our collective audacity. Finally, she gave in, her laughter joining ours, echoing our shared camaraderie despite the absurdity of our stance. While I had helped Yasmin move past the incident, I couldn't shake off my own lingering resentment. Benny's interruption had cut short what seemed like the first semi-productive conversation between Primeape and Yasmin in a long while. Despite this setback, we resumed our training session, pushing through until it was time for a lunch break. When Primeape was released to join us for the meal, Yasmin had concluded that, at the very least, I was out of harm's way. However, throughout lunch, Primeape's demeanour towards Yasmin was unmistakably cold.

As we kicked off the afternoon training session, Primeape largely kept to herself, engaging in solitary activities away from the group. Despite her apparent detachment, I kept a close eye on her, observing her interactions—or lack thereof—with Yasmin. It became evident, especially as Yasmin worked diligently with Heracross and Sandslash, that Primeape harboured a desire to intervene and offer guidance, much like she had with me earlier. This frustration was basically driving a wedge between them, not because they didn't care, but because they both really wanted to do better and were stressed from unmet expectations.

I seized a moment when everyone else was preoccupied to pull Primeape aside for a heart-to-heart. "So, what's the plan? You planning to throw in the towel on getting stronger, or you reckon you'll make better progress solo? If that's the case, why bother having a trainer? Or even bother helping me out? Wouldn't we both be better off on our own, chasing our gains?"

I had to swallow my fear as Primeape's demeanour shifted from indifferent to dangerously intense in a heartbeat. But I knew I had to break through that intimidating aura and connect with the Pokémon, otherwise these two would never move past this by themselves.

"You know, where I'm from, people say the definition of Insanity is to keep doing the same thing and expect different results," I continued, keeping my tone light, not wanting to escalate the tension. "Yasmin's ready to shake things up, try something new to break out of the rut and aim for an evolution, raising the bar to new heights. Don't you want to rise to that challenge, or are those gains of yours just for show?" I couldn't help but let a mocking tone slip into my last question. It worked exactly as I hoped, sparking a look of shock on Primeape's face, outraged at the mere suggestion that her strength might be superficial.

"Primeape!" she protested, clearly offended by my insinuation.

"Prove it, then. Prove me wrong, and I'll make sure you get a shot at taking down Benny's Pokémon in front of everyone." I could see the shift in her demeanour, a gleam of determination in her eyes at the thought of getting back at Benny for the disrespect shown to both her and Yasmin.

"Prime," she grunted, extending her arm towards me. We locked hands, mimicking the iconic Schwarzenegger handshake from 'Predator', sealing our newfound agreement. After our pact, Yasmin was taken aback when Primeape burst into her training session, eager to start the specialised training for evolution. With Primeape's newfound determination, our training sessions ramped up in intensity, leaving little room for rest. But I wasn't just sitting on the sidelines; I already had a scheme brewing to secure a battle against Benny.

Benny had been floating the idea of hosting a tournament at the outpost, ostensibly for all the trainers. However, as soon as the more seasoned trainers showed a hint of interest, he hastily retreated from his broad invitation, narrowing the field to only those with one badge or none, claiming it was to offer them valuable experience. He even offered to battle the winner as a grand gesture of providing ‘experience.’ His transparent attempt to grandstand didn't fool the experienced trainers, who quickly dismissed him, but it did enchant the less experienced ones. They saw him as generous, not realising his true motive was simply to bask in the limelight.

This dynamic set the perfect stage for my plan. Benny's eagerness to impress the newcomers, combined with the tournament setup, provided a golden opportunity to challenge him publicly and settle the score. Indeed, the rangers didn't miss an opportunity to highlight my lack of badges when I informed Benny of my intention to join the tournament. Having observed my intermittent training sessions, Benny clearly didn't perceive me as a significant threat. With a veneer of magnanimity, he graciously allowed my participation, despite my being older than the typical entrant. I may have asked Venonat to practise sandbagging again whenever Benny was around, Ekans joining in pretending he didn’t know his tail from his snout.

***

Which circles us back to the current scenario. I had deliberately kept Yasmin in the dark about my real reasons for entering the competition, well aware that she'd probably give me an earful. Not just me, but Primeape would likely catch some heat too, potentially deepening their existing rift. Under normal circumstances, I might have conceded to her wisdom, but I couldn't ignore the change in Yasmin's demeanour. Despite her best efforts to conceal it, the whispered jibes and sniggers from some of the younger trainers at the outpost were clearly taking a toll on her.

“That’s right, you did say you’d battle the victor as a ‘prize,’” I reminded Benny, my tone laced with a hint of challenge. “But are you sure about that? I might be better off battling someone else. After all, your Pokémon haven’t been training much, as far as I can tell. There’s probably a Pokémon here stronger than yours to train against. Besides, Ekans is tired from the tournament.”

“My Pokémon can beat any Pokémon you have,” Benny retorted, his pride wounded. “I see you haven’t used your second ball. I’ll show you the difference in strength between a sponsored trainer and a bully.”

“I don’t think you want to battle this furball; she’s a bit too strong for you without daddy’s Charizard.” That comment clearly struck a nerve.

“Quit stalling. I’m not letting you run away after questioning the strength of my team,” he snapped, pulling a Poké Ball from his belt and tossing it onto the field, where a rather impressive Scyther materialised.

“If you insist,” I responded, my voice calm as I unlatched the ball from my belt and casually tossed it onto the field. The tension was palpable, the crowd silent in anticipation.

“What?” Benny and Yasmin exclaimed in shock.

Quick as a flash, Yasmin snatched a ball from her belt, pressing the release button. A cheerful Venonat appeared beside her with a happy wave. “Venonat,” she announced cheerily.

“Damn it, Cain,” Yasmin scolded, realising what I had done. It seemed she wasn’t exactly thrilled with me practising my five finger discount on her Pokéballs.

“That’s not your Pokémon,” Benny stated, fear creeping into his voice.

“You said you’d beat any Pokémon. Isn’t that right, girl?” I asked the formidable Pokémon I had borrowed.

“Who’s that Pokemon!?” called out one of the onlookers, a single word was grunted in response to us both.

“Annihilape”

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