WHAM!!
Gothitelle's body snapped backward as gahorn connected. There was no flash of light, no dramatic beam—just a brutal collision of mass and montum that shattered the psychic aura around it like glass.
Gothitelle flew back, limbs flailing, and slamd into the rocky ground with a dull, heavy thud. Dust and pebbles leapt up around its body.
Its fingers twitched once, but its body wouldn't obey. Its eyes dimd. The air around it—once thick with controlled psychic pressure—went suddenly light and empty.
The referee raised a flag.
"Gothitelle is unable to battle. Rhyperior wins!"
A rush of noise filled the arena—cheers, shocked laughter, and a wave of explosive relief from the gamblers who had been sweating through the entire exchange.
Gary's gaze remained fixed on the field.
When Rhyperior had burst from the ground, the confusion had already lifted. It hadn't rembered Gothitelle's exact position, but it had sensed enough—the approximate area, the pressure in the air—and committed fully.
That was the bond between them. Not words, not perfect commands. Just the shared understanding that ca from years of training together.
Gary had recognized the mont confusion ended and given the order imdiately. No hesitation, no fancy setup.
When an opening appeared, you took it.
Maya stood frozen for a mont, staring at Gothitelle's fallen form.
After all that… it still hit.
Then she exhaled slowly, forcing her expression to hold.
It really is worthy of Master Gary, she thought, the disappointnt in her chest turning into sothing strangely warm. Too strong.
She didn't resent it.
Maya had never truly believed she could defeat Gary. Not today. What she had wanted since learning her opponent's na was simpler: defeat just one of his Pokémon. That alone would an she had stood on the sa field as her idol and made him bleed for his victory.
And Gothitelle had done real damage. Sleep, confusion, multiple boosted Psychic hits—Rhyperior had been pushed hard.
It's not nothing.
She drew her final Poké Ball. Her fingers were steady now.
"Infernape, I'm counting on you!"
She threw it forward.
"Infer!"
A lean, athletic figure landed on the field, heat shimring off its body. Its eyes were bright, its posture low and ready.
[Infernape ♂]
[Level: 48]
[Potential: Elite-tier]
Gary could see imdiately that this was her core partner. The way it moved, the way it glanced back at Maya with instinctive coordination—this wasn't just a tournant piece. It was the Pokémon she had built her style around.
Elite-tier potential at Level 48 was solid for a first-ti League challenger.
But ti wasn't what Maya had today.
"Mach Punch!" Maya shouted imdiately.
"Infer—!"
Infernape surged forward, its fist blurring with Fighting-type energy. Mach Punch was an assertion of tempo—seize the rhythm before Rhyperior could reset.
Rhyperior didn't try to outspeed it. It crossed its thick arms in front of its chest and braced.
Bang!
The punch landed squarely against Rhyperior's guard. The impact sent a dull shock through the terrain. Infernape's body recoiled slightly—it was like punching a boulder that punched back.
Rhyperior lowered its arms, one hand reaching out to grab. But Infernape was already stepping back, sliding out of reach with practiced agility.
Maya's pulse hamred. Don't let it touch you. Keep moving.
Gary's voice cut in calmly. "Stone Edge."
Rhyperior raised its foot and stamped down on the ground.
Maya's eyes sharpened instantly. Dodge! It's coming from the ground—
But sothing deceptive happened.
The ground directly under Rhyperior's foot stayed quiet. No rock blades erupted there.
Instead, the ground under Infernape split open.
A jagged stone blade shot upward like a trap snapping shut.
Bang!!
Infernape's eyes widened in shock as the spike drove into its side. The force launched it upward, its body arcing into the air as the sudden hit stole its breath.
"Infer—!!"
The cry cut short as its consciousness wavered.
Maya's face went pale. That's not how I expected Stone Edge to—
Infernape fell.
Bang!!
It slamd into the rocky ground, kicking up a sheet of dust. Its fingers twitched once, then its eyes rolled back.
It didn't rise again.
The referee raised a flag.
"Infernape is unable to battle. All three of Trainer Maya's Pokémon are unable to battle. The winner is Gary!"
The match—finally—ended.
It had taken longer than most expected, especially with such a level difference. Gary knew exactly why. If Rhyperior had avoided the Sleep Powder, the entire match would have been shorter.
But Maya had found openings through sacrifice and clever layering. She turned the match into sothing ssy—sothing that demanded patience.
Gary respected that.
Maya stood still, staring at her fallen Infernape. Her throat felt tight, but she forced herself to breathe.
I lost… but I fought him. I really fought him.
And in the stubborn way Trainers asured their progress, that mattered.
The crowd exploded around them.
"What a strong Rhyperior! Its level completely crushes the Trainers in this Conference!"
"Gary's a monster!"
"If he weren't limited by age, he'd be unstoppable!"
A man laughed loudly, his voice gleeful.
"It's fine! I've made money these last few years. Thanks to Master Gary, I'm basically set—I can lie down and live easy now!"
Another voice chid in imdiately.
"That's right! With a Trainer like Master Gary, you don't have to work for anyone else!"
Gary's eyebrow twitched. What kind of life plan is that…
He didn't engage. The match was over. He recalled Rhyperior and left the stadium under a wash of cheers.
Gary headed straight to the Pokémon Center in the contestant village. He placed Rhyperior's Poké Ball on the counter.
"Treatnt," he said simply. "It took a lot of special hits."
Nurse Joy nodded and took the ball.
As she moved it toward the machine, soone approached from the side.
Maya.
She stood with her hands clasped in front of her, cheeks flushed from adrenaline and emotion. She held out the sa Jigglypuff notebook from before.
"Master Gary, thank you for your guidance today. Could you… sign for ?"
Gary paused. He had promised. And she had fought sincerely.
"Alright. I'll sign."
Maya's face lit up instantly. He signed neatly and handed it back.
She clutched it to her chest. "Thank you!" she said, bowing slightly before bouncing away.
Gary watched her go.
The first ti I've ever signed for a fan.
He'd never done comrcial events. Never built a brand. He treated battling as a path—not a stage performance.
But fa ca anyway. And because he hadn't monetized it, fans like Maya had no official rchandise to buy.
Which ant others filled the gap.
Gary's eyes narrowed. The Team Rocket trio…
He'd heard rumors about certain "exclusive" dolls and "limited edition" morabilia floating around. Cheap knockoffs modeled after him. Selling well, apparently.
They're making money off my face and I don't even know it.
If he'd known earlier, he would have demanded image rights out of principle.
4:30 PM
The third-round matchups were released.
This ti, Gary stayed in his room, sitting at the desk with the player database open on the monitor. Outside the window, the contestant village humd with evening activity.
The screen refreshed. A new na appeared under Gary's bracket.
Tony.
Gary's eyes narrowed.
A Trainer from the Unova Region. Sixteen years old—almost too old to participate.
According to the latest League regulations, only Trainers under sixteen could enter standard League Conferences. Tony was right at the edge.
Gary's mind drifted briefly to himself. I'm almost fourteen. That ant two more League Conferences at most.
If he calculated carefully, it lined up cleanly: Unova and Kalos. Two more. That was it.
As for why Ash managed to compete in the Alola League later—that was a special case. A newly established League with a first-ti Conference, loose rules, and a casual structure. Even the champion title there felt oddly easy, more like a festival prize than a crown forged through real competition.
Gary pulled up Tony's match history.
As a Unova native, Tony had used Throh and Ferrothorn—both Unova Pokémon. But the rest of his lineup consisted of Sinnoh Pokémon: Yanga and Ambipom.
Gary stared for a mont.
"…ssy," he murmured.
The type coverage was scattered. The roles didn't support each other. There was no clear synergy or win condition.
He's like Ash in the worst way—random collection, no coordination.
Gary continued scrolling through other matchups. Ash's third-round opponent was still Conway. Paul and Barry had ended up facing each other as well.
Then Gary paused, frowning at sothing that wasn't there.
"Strange," he muttered. "Where's the Trainer with Heatran?"
He scanned the bracket again. No Heatran Trainer on the third-round list. Not in the second-round results either.
Gary's eyebrows rose. "Did that guy… not even pass the qualifiers?"
He flipped back through the earlier charts and searched carefully.
Nothing.
He stared at the screen, genuinely stunned.
"Good grief."
A Level 60 Heatran—and the Trainer still failed to pass qualifiers. What kind of Pokémon did he use in the other slots? And how had he captured Heatran in the first place?
"It's really weird."
Gary wanted to see that performance. But qualifiers weren't public, and League databases only preserved detailed information on the sixty-four advancing Trainers. Anyone eliminated early beca a footnote—unsearchable, invisible.
He exhaled and shut the database window. No point obsessing over a ghost.
The Next Day
The third round of the preliminary stage arrived. After this match, the remaining Trainers would enter the official final bracket of the Lily of the Valley Conference.
Gary's match was scheduled first in the morning. He arrived at Arena D fifteen minutes early.
The stadium was quieter than yesterday, but the tension felt sharper. Trainers sat in designated seats, so whispering, others staring forward in focused silence.
Gary walked into the contestant seating area.
And he saw Tony.
Tony was wearing a red sweatshirt and a Unova Region-style outfit.
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