The Breeder Camp is coming to an end, and everyone is striving to strengthen their Pokémon as much as possible to achieve favorable results.
This year's promotion quota is clear: 48 participants, or rather 47, as one was expelled early for purchasing berries and falsifying tasks. Out of the remaining breeders, only eight will advance in rank, with the top spot receiving a secret treasure from the Breeders Association. Even the bottom seven have treasure-level rewards, although the combined value of their prizes doesn't co close to a tenth of the first-place reward.
This imnse reward has driven everyone into a frenzy, each breeder determined to outdo the rest. However, Chris noticed the absence of fully evolved starter Pokémon among the participants, while his Totem Bulbasaur evolved into Venusaur less than a week after the camp started.
Still, this group of breeders didn't abandon their intention to outshine Chris, with so even plotting to push him out of the top eight. The final battle is set to mirror the chaos of the camp's opening day: a brawl.
As Denver, the rulemaker, proclaid, "It started as chaos, and it'll end as chaos—symtry at its finest!"
With the rules declared, trainers eyed Chris as their pri target, forming a coalition called the "Gale Squad" to challenge him. Many trainers had their own reasons to join: Chris's Totem Venusaur was too overwhelming, making him a shoo-in for the top spot. Eliminating him would increase everyone else's chances for the coveted treasure-level items.
So also sought to settle scores from the first battle, where Chris's Gyarados proved dominant. "This ti, we're all on equal footing," they said. "Even if you've got a head start with Totem Bulbasaur, you won't stand a chance against our teamwork!"
The brawl would span a five-kiloter radius around the camp, with elimination coming from either defeat or venturing outside the designated range. Rankings were determined by the order of elimination, and any participants still standing by the day's end would face 1-on-1 duels to crown the champion.
Denver, casually lounging with sunglasses, a cigarette in hand, and his feet propped up, announced the start with a casual, "The battle begins in five minutes. Fireworks will signal the start."
At the announcent, the trainers scattered, diving into the forest to find cover or strategic positions. This was not only a test of Pokémon combat—it was also a ga of stealth and cunning. So hoped to hide well enough to slip into the top eight unnoticed.
And so, the chaos began.
Nearly thirty trainers stood motionless, their eyes locked on Chris as though he were prey, waiting for him to make the first move. It was clear—they had already decided to take him down.
"Take him out first; the rest cos later!" echoed in their minds.
"Go ahead, Chris!" Denver called out with a grin, waving toward him.
Chris rolled his eyes. I'm pretty sure Denver's targeting … but I've got no proof.
"If you're all so eager to lose, don't bla for what happens next," Chris sneered, striding confidently into the forest. Behind him, the breeders trailed like a determined hunting pack, their intent unmistakable.
Chris walked to an open clearing, stopping deliberately. This was his chosen battlefield, and he wasn't about to let anyone dictate the terms. The opposing trainers, mbers of the so-called "Gale Squad," spread out in a loose circle around him, keeping a distance of 20 to 30 ters. Poké Balls were in hand, anticipation thick in the air.
Both sides were ready, and then the referee appeared—Denver himself, erging leisurely from the trees.
The sight of Denver didn't faze the breeders in the slightest. After all, their teamwork to target Chris was well within the rules. Denver had no intention of interfering; he was just there to enjoy the spectacle. "Start!" he declared casually.
As if on cue, a firework shot into the sky and exploded with a brilliant whoosh! Its echo reverberated through the area, signaling the start of the battle.
Trainers sprang into action imdiately.
"Charleon, use Flathrower!"
"Quilava, use Fla Wheel!"
"Pignite, use Fla Charge!"
More than 30 Pokémon materialized, the overwhelming majority of them fire-types. It was no coincidence. These breeders, determined to get revenge on Chris, had deliberately trained fire Pokémon, hoping to gain an edge in the final monts of the camp.
Of the 47 breeders, over 30 had chosen fire-types, leaving just a dozen with water or grass Pokémon. Strategically, the remaining trainers banking on water-types anticipated being the ultimate winners, planning to clean up after the fire-types decimated the grass Pokémon.
However, Chris's response was as straightforward as it was devastating. With a flick of his wrist, he threw out his Poké Ball.
Totem Venusaur erged.
The massive Pokémon's form, surrounded by its imposing Totem aura, radiated an overwhelming presence that sent chills through both trainers and their Pokémon. Its sheer size and intimidating energy sowed doubt in the hearts of everyone present.
"Is this really sothing I can beat?" they asked themselves. The answer, as Chris would soon show them, was a resounding no.
"Venusaur," Chris commanded coolly, "use Vine Whip!"
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