"Well, I’d better head out," Riley said, vaulting onto her Charizard with practiced ease. "Got so things to handle back ho."
"Leaving so soon? I was hoping we could grab dinner together," Victor complained, puffing on his pipe. Unlike most n his age who preferred quiet evenings, the old Elite had always been a social creature who thrived on good company. "The Elite Four barely see each other throughout the year as it is."
"There’ll be plenty of opportunities this year," Riley replied with a knowing glance at John. When he challenged Champion Marcus for the title match, she’d definitely be there to witness history.
"Alright, alright, I suppose I’ll head out too," Victor sighed, releasing his massive Totem Gliscor from its Pokeball. As he climbed onto the Ground-type’s back, he called out one final encouragent. "John, my boy, I’ll be waiting for you to take down that old fossil Marcus! Prepare well and try to knock him off his throne!"
"I will, Mr. Victor," John replied with a genuine smile.
"None of this ’mister’ nonsense," Victor waved dismissively as his Gliscor took to the air. "Just call Old Vic, or even Victor the Geezer if you want!"
As the veteran Elite disappeared into the storm clouds, John looked around at their surroundings. The three islands had vanished completely, they were now standing on a patch of spirit world terrain, surrounded by churning black tides. Without the power of both Gengar maintaining the connection, the boundary between the real world and the spirit realm was rapidly dissolving.
In less than two minutes, the spiritual battlefield that had once spanned thousands of ters had shrunk to barely a hundred ters across.
"Ti to go. I need a good rest after all this," John muttered, stretching his aching muscles. He released his Totem Salance and prepared to return to the capital.
Just as he was about to take off, a Flygon intercepted his path with an almost desperate urgency.
"Excuse , Elite John! I’m David Morgan, the Gym Leader from Clearwater City. We t at the last Gym Leader conference!" The man looked absolutely frantic with excitent. "My daughter is a huge fan of yours, could you possibly sign sothing for ?"
Morgan had witnessed the entire battle’s conclusion. Damian’s Gengar had been the one to fall, which ant John had won the Elite tournant! The implications were staggering, a fresh Elite Four mber defeating the strongest among them, and at only twenty years old. Given enough ti, wouldn’t Draconia(s Championship be his for the taking?
Hell, Morgan was convinced John would eventually beco a Pokemon Master. Better get that autograph now before he beca completely unapproachable!
John had absolutely no mory of David Morgan from Clearwater City. With over thirty Gym Leaders in the region, rembering them all was practically impossible. Looking at the man’s eager expression, John suspected the "daughter" story was just a cover, Morgan was clearly the fan here.
"Uh, I didn’t bring any paper or a pen..."
"I’ve got a pen! Just sign my shirt!"
The enthusiasm was impossible to refuse. John reluctantly scrawled his signature across Morgan’s gym uniform before the man finally let him "escape."
By the ti John returned to the Trainers HQ, it was already 7 PM. As soon as he walked through the front door, his personal chef had dinner waiting on the table, Maine lobster, pri ribeye steak, and handmade pasta. Whatever John wanted to eat, the chef would prepare. The man was even a certified interdiate Pokemon breeder, crafting specialized treats for John’s team.
While eating, John scrolled through his phone. The battle between him and Damian was already trending across social dia.
"Elite Battle Causes Weather Anomaly, Sudden Storm Hits Clearwater City!"
"Demon God Appears: The Shiny Elite VS The Reaper, Who Wins?"
The sudden downpour in Clearwater had triggered ergency protocols throughout the city, naturally making headlines. To calm public fears, officials had revealed the truth about the Elite tournant battle between John and Damian.
Within hours, nobody cared about the rainstorm anymore. The internet had found its new obsession.
@TrendingBro: Thanks for the invite, just got off a plane. I’m backing The Reaper on this one. Sure, becoming Elite at 20 is impressive, but John just joined the Elite Four. Beating Damian, who’s practically guaranteed to be the next Champion? That’s just ridiculous.
@WestWindRider: Ridiculous? You’re calling John ridiculous? From the mont he steamrolled through the region and beca an Elite Four mber, I knew nothing was impossible for this guy.
@FishnetSpeedster: Ah yes, totally agree.
@GlassesGuy: Look, realistically speaking, The Reaper should win. There are tiers even among the Elite Four! Not every Elite is on Damian’s level, and not every Elite reaches Riley’s status.
@SRMLover: I understand every word you just said individually, but together they make no sense. Bottom line: John is number one in the world.
@HalfBaked: No point guessing now. We’ll know when the winner challenges the Champion.
Most netizens were debating who would ultimately triumph, John or Damian. Others marveled at Elite-level combat power that could affect weather patterns twelve miles away.
Clearly, bored internet users had found their latest source of entertainnt.
John didn’t particularly care about the online speculation, it was mostly just amusing noise. However, the user called HalfBaked had reminded him of sothing important.
"When should I challenge for the Championship?" John wondered aloud.
His battle with Damian had exposed his weaknesses. Compared to these legendary trainers who’d been famous for decades, his foundation was still too shallow. His Pokemon needed more exclusive techniques developed specifically for them.
But would Damian, whose confidence had been shattered, still take him to that foreign secret location they’d discussed?
"Zeraora and Lugia also have trendous untapped potential," John mused, unconsciously tapping his finger on the table.
Maybe he should just ask?
After a mont’s consideration, he made up his mind. He picked up his phone, then hesitated. Many powerful trainers had probably already studied Greninja’s Rasen-cough-Spiral Shuriken technique by now.
Just as John was about to call his assistant Erald to book a flight, he rembered that Damian had asked him to stay in the city for a few more days. Sothing about taking him to a mysterious overseas location.
His phone suddenly lit up with an incoming ssage. John picked it up to see a text from Damian himself.
(Damian: Get ready. We leave at 8 AM the day after tomorrow. I’ve already bought your ticket.)
(John: Sounds good!)
Well, that answered that question. But move developnt should still happen back in Grassre City. After the Spring Festival’s, he’d sent both w and Togepi back there. With the support of the Avian Sanctuary, developing new techniques would be much more efficient.
His plan was crystallizing: first, develop moves for his main six Pokemon, aiming for one or two exclusive techniques per team mber, then challenge the Champion.
If he wanted to defeat the Champion, he couldn’t rely solely on Greninja as his ace in the hole.
John pulled out his notebook and began listing his six main Pokemon for the eventual Championship challenge. The developnt work ahead would be intensive, but necessary.
Even if Damian still intended to help him train abroad, the question remained: when exactly would they make that trip?
"Forget it," John muttered, closing the notebook. "I’ll figure it out in a few days."
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