"Co in, please!" Master Hank called as he stepped into the gym alongside Saul Badman and John.
Several disciples imdiately moved to block the reporters, preventing them from entering the gymnasium.
"Old friend, it's been four or five years since we last saw each other," Master Hank said as he led the way inside.
"Yeah, the last ti was at the joint trainer eting," Saul recalled.
"I rember inviting you for a drink after the eting, but the president dragged you away before we even finished," Master Hank chuckled.
Saul laughed. "Well, no excuses this ti. Whether today or soti soon, I'm going to need a proper drink with you. Don't shut out!"
"You know I wouldn't! Actually, I was going to ask—are you interested in becoming an honorary professor at Riverstone University after you retire?" Saul offered. "If you co, we'll have the chance to drink together every day."
Hank hesitated for a mont, then shook his head with a smile. "I appreciate the offer, brother, but I've been a gym leader for so many years. I've missed too many monts with my family. Once I retire, I just want to go back to my hotown, spend ti with my grandkids—no, wait—my great-grandkids."
Saul sighed. "I get it. You married early, and now you're set to be a great-grandfather. anwhile, I'm still just a lone old man."
Hank chuckled before turning to John. "This must be the student you ntioned on the phone?"
John stepped forward. "Yes, sir! My na is John."
The old Gym Leader gave him an appraising look. "So, you really think he can give a good fight?"
"Without a doubt," Saul replied. "I tested him myself."
"Alright then! Let's head straight to the battlefield. We'll have lunch afterward, and finally make up for that missed drink."
Hank quickened his pace, leading them through the gym. From the outside, it looked like a simple warehouse, and in so ways, it was. Inside, tools, equipnt, and agricultural vehicles for maintaining the ranch filled the space.
They passed through the warehouse and erged at the ranch, where a vast open-air battlefield stretched out a hundred ters ahead. A referee was already waiting, along with two staff mbers from the Draconia Trainer Association.
John and Master Hank each handed over six Pokeballs. The officials scanned them with specialized equipnt to ensure no illegal substances had been used on the Pokémon.
As they waited for confirmation, Saul suddenly spoke. "You're probably wondering why, if Hank and I are such good friends, I'm the one pushing for this challenge. You're thinking that I'm forcing him to fight for his title when he's just about to retire, right?"
John nodded. That very thought had crossed his mind. At first, he assud his teacher had so grudge against Hank, but today he realized they were close friends. That only made the situation more puzzling.
"For a general, it's better to fall on the battlefield than to waste away in a hospital bed," Saul said.
John listened intently.
"A trainer is no different from a general. Retirent ceremonies an nothing. What truly matters is one last battle, one final display of strength—even if it ends in defeat."
Saul's voice softened. "Hank told this himself."
John's eyes widened in understanding.
For him, this was just a regular gym challenge. Even if he lost, he could always challenge another gym. But for Hank, this could be his final battle—a defining mont of his career.
Saul patted John's shoulder. "Don't let the pressure get to you. Just fight with everything you've got."
John took a deep breath. "Understood, Teacher."
His gaze sharpened, his fighting spirit igniting.
Before the battle could begin, a flood of reporters stord into the area.
Hank had invited them in. A battle of this caliber needed witnesses. If he retired in secrecy, rumors would spread that he had simply handed the gym over to Saul's student. That wasn't acceptable.
Besides, Hank wanted his final battle to be seen—win or lose.
"Who's fighting Hank?"
"Is it Saul Badman? He arrived earlier, didn't he?"
"No way! Saul is the head of Riverstone University. He wouldn't take over a gym, and he's even older than Gym Leader Hank."
"Then it must be that young guy who ca with him!"
"Wait a second... I think that's John! Wasn't he all over the internet as a rising star breeder?"
"Hold on—John? The freshman senior breeder? The one they called ''The Prodigy?"
"No way! Isn't he supposed to be an advanced breeder? What's he doing challenging a gym?"
The chatter among the reporters intensified.
John, previously overshadowed by Saul's presence, was now the center of attention. The journalists were already crafting their headlines: Hank's Final Battle—A Clash of Generations!
The caras clicked away, eager to capture every mont.
Neither John nor Hank paid any attention.Hank was used to the spotlight. He had fought in bigger, more high-profile matches. John, on the other hand, had learned to tune out distractions entirely.
Soon, the officials returned with their findings, confirming that both trainers' Pokemon were clear for battle. They handed back the Pokeballs.
John and Hank stepped onto their designated spots on the battlefield.
The referee raised a hand. "This will be a six-on-six full battle! No substitutions. The match ends when all Pokemon on one side are unable to battle. Are both trainers ready?"
Hank smirked. "I've been ready for decades."
John tightened his grip on his first Pokeball. "Let's do this."
The referee's whistle blew.
"Begin!"
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