To showcase the "potential" of Pokémon Tech, Joe led Red to the combat simulation room. It was nothing more than an arcade hall, where students played out turn-based gas on glowing screens.
"I usually use the Cerulean Gym as a warm-up!" Joe boasted, mashing buttons. On the screen, a pixelated Weepinbell one-shotted a Starmie. There were no complex calculations for stats or evasion—just a simple line of code that declared victory.
Red scoffed. This wasn't a battle simulation; it was an ego-stroking machine for those who feared real conflict. Unable to tolerate Joe's misplaced pride, he decided to teach him a lesson.
"How about a real Pokémon battle?" Red proposed.
"What? No, no way!" Joe refused, shaking his head frantically. The mory of Red's Charleon was still fresh in his mind. He didn't want to die in vain.
"Don't worry," Red chuckled. "We'll use the sa Pokémon from your simulation. I choose Starmie. You choose Weepinbell. I'm sure your esteed school can provide those, right?"
Joe's confidence surged. On paper, he had the advantage. "I won't lose," he said, accepting a Poké Ball from the school's supply. "The Pokémon provided here won't resist a trainer's commands. You can battle with confidence."
(Foolish boy,) Red thought.
They took their places. Red sent out the Starmie. Joe sent out the Weepinbell.
"In a dry environnt, a Water-type can't win!" Joe declared confidently.
"Water Gun."
Starmie fired a high-pressure jet of water that slamd into the Weepinbell. The sheer force of the impact sent the Grass-type flying, knocking it out instantly.
"Impossible!" Joe cried, unable to believe what he was seeing. "Weepinbell is supposed to resist water!"
"And that's why you're an amateur," a sharp, lodic voice cut in. "That Starmie's power level is clearly higher. Even with a type advantage, your Pokémon couldn't win."
Giselle appeared, flanked by the five bullies Red had dealt with earlier. Her presence commanded the attention of the room, and she looked at Red with an air of arrogant curiosity.
"Miss Giselle, it was that guy who insulted our school!" the red-haired boy blurted out, pointing at Red.
"You'd best lower that finger," Red said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "unless you want to pick it up off the floor later." The boy paled and quickly retracted his hand.
"What an arrogant fellow," Giselle said, though she too had felt a shiver run down her spine at Red's cold threat. To maintain her dignity, she stepped forward. "Miss Giselle~" her cronies and Joe sighed in unison, looking at her as if she were a goddess descended from on high.
Giselle basked in their adoration, but she was visibly annoyed that Red remained completely unmoved, his gaze cold and unimpressed. "For what reason have you co to Pokémon Tech?" she asked, trying to seize control of the situation.
"Passing through," Red replied indifferently, ignoring the way her perfect expression began to darken.
"If you wish to uphold the dignity of your school," Red continued, stepping toward her, "then try to defeat ."
His tone was a direct challenge. It provoked her sycophants into a frenzy.
"Leave it to us, Miss Giselle!"
"We'll teach this arrogant guy a lesson!"
"Don't think you can push your luck just because you have a strong Charleon!"
Five Poké Balls were thrown. A Nidorino, Raticate, Machoke, Ponyta, and Cloyster appeared on the field. The borrowed Starmie trembled in fear and lost all will to fight. Red calmly recalled it. It was not his partner; it had no reason to fight for him.
"Co out, Charleon."
The mont his ace appeared, it let out a guttural roar. It wasn't just loud; it was a physical wave of pressure, a predator's killing intent that washed over the five opposing Pokémon, instantly crushing their collective confidence.
"Such a large Charleon... this doesn't match the data in the books at all!" Giselle exclaid, her beautiful eyes fixed on the fire lizard, trying to analyze the reason for its abnormal size. She had to admit, the Pokémon of these nobles were well-raised, but they had the pampered aura of "hothouse flowers." Charleon, facing five opponents, didn't show the slightest caution. It lazily huffed a spark from its mouth, its expression one of pure disdain.
"You hateful brat, even your Pokémon is arrogant!" the red-haired boy seethed, commanding his Ponyta to use Flathrower. Charleon chuckled, opened its mouth, and simply inhaled the flas, absorbing them completely before spitting back a far more powerful pillar of fire that struck the Ponyta head-on.
"Too bad! My Ponyta has the Flash Fire ability!" the boy said smugly. His Pokémon was unhard, enjoying the comfortable heat.
Red remained silent, allowing his partner to fight on its own.
(Since fire doesn't work,) Charleon seed to think, (let's try this.)
It opened its mouth again. The red-haired boy smirked, assuming another futile fire attack. "Stay put, Ponyta! Soak it up!" he commanded. But what erupted was not the bright orange of fla, but a swirling, greenish torrent of draconic energy. The Dragon Breath slamd into Ponyta, and the paralyzing side effect locked its muscles in place. In the next instant, Charleon was on it, defeating it with a single, brutal Dragon Claw.
"How could it master a Dragon-type move so skillfully?!" Giselle gasped, frantically flipping through a textbook.
"Co on. All of you," Red said indifferently. The victorious Charleon impatiently waved its claw, beckoning the others to their doom. The arrogant gesture completely enraged them, and they abandoned any pretense of a fair fight.
Giselle found herself staring not at the Charleon, but at its trainer. He stood with a calm indifference, as if this overwhelming victory was a foregone conclusion. He possessed a quiet, dangerous confidence—an aura of true power she had never encountered within the sterile, academic walls of Pokémon Tech.
With the Fire-type threat gone, Charleon surrounded the remaining four Pokémon with a vortex of Fire Spin. It lunged through the flas, biting down on the Raticate with Fire Fang. The terrified Pokémon scread as it was engulfed in fire before being sent flying into a wall by a swift Iron Tail.
"Cloyster, Water Gun!"
"Nidorino, Horn Attack!"
"Machoke, Brick Break!"
The remaining three launched their attacks. Charleon calmly evaporated the Water Gun with a controlled Flathrower, using the steam as cover to close in on Nidorino. It t the charge head-on, stopping the Poison-type with its raw strength before grabbing its horn, hoisting it into the air, and sending it flying out a window with another Iron Tail. At the sa ti, it spun, its own Dragon Claw eting Machoke's Brick Break. After a brief struggle, Charleon easily overpowered its opponent and finished it with a point-blank Flathrower.
Only the defensive Cloyster remained. It trembled as Charleon slowly stalked toward it, its hands glowing with the white energy of Brick Break.
"How could I let you succeed?! Cloyster, use Withdraw!" its trainer yelled.
Cloyster quickly retreated into its shell. Seeing this, Charleon's lips curled into a grin. This was the perfect opportunity to practice its close-quarters combat.
CRACK! CRACK!
It began to hamr the shell with relentless Brick Break attacks. No matter how desperately the blue-haired boy scread, Charleon showed no rcy. Finally, with a loud groan, the shell cracked open, revealing the unconscious Pokémon inside, its eyes swirling.
Charleon had fought one against five and achieved a perfect victory, without a single visible injury.
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