Standing atop Steelix's head, Bruno bent forward slightly, gripping his nunchaku. His narrowed eyes widened fiercely as he spotted Logan descending slowly through the air—Green held securely in his arms.
"I really didn't want it to co to this, Bruno… but I must say—what a coincidence running into you like this."
Logan let out a chilling laugh, raising his hand as if preparing to give a command. Bruno felt his heart tighten instantly, voice low and tense:
"...Hitmonlee!"
The Hitmonlee who had kicked Green monts earlier spun beautifully midair—its spring-like leg twisting like a drill as it launched itself at Logan once more.
"Green!?"
But Logan didn't command his Pokémon.
Instead, he shouted—
"Yellow!"
A resolute voice responded sharply:
"Scizor—cut that leg!"
A fishing rod snapped forward—its line whipping through the air as a Poké Ball traced an impossible curved path around Hitmonlee's springing limb. The capsule burst open midair, unleashing Blue's Scizor, which clamped its tal pincers down onto Hitmonlee's leg with frightening precision.
Hitmonlee scread, its attack veering off course. The kick grazed past Logan's cheek, wind pressure making his hair flutter. He didn't even blink—conditioned over two and a half years to conquer the human instinct of flinching.
His Pokémon grew strong through training.
As their Trainer—he had to grow strong enough to stand beside them.
"Pikachu—Iron Tail!
Aurorus—Ice Beam!"
Yellow didn't stop there. Pikachu darted like lightning up Hitmonlee's extended leg, bouncing between its coils before flipping and slamming its glowing tail down—sending Hitmonlee hurling backward, smashing through several trees before skidding to a stop.
A freezing Green beam then shot straight toward Bruno atop Steelix.
He reacted instantly.
Bruno hurled a Poké Ball—Hitmonchan burst out, fist wreathed in flas as it collided with Aurorus's Ice Beam. Fire and frost neutralized each other, erupting into white vapor that rolled across the clearing.
Only then did Bruno finally notice—apart from Logan, two other figures approached from the forest: a tall blonde woman and a small girl.
And those attacks just now—were commanded by the little one.
"Exactly like that, Yellow!" Logan praised calmly.
"All that grueling training is for this mont—to evolve instinct into instinctive combat. Training alone has limits. Only in real battle can you transform knowledge into power!"
He continued, eyes focused like a blade:
"The man before you is one of Kanto's Elite Four—the world's foremost Fighting-type master. He is the perfect sparring opponent. Use this chance. Command Red's Pikachu, Blue's Scizor, and your own Aurorus. This is where you push your growth further!"
He exchanged a look with Cynthia—both nodding silently.
Logan and Cynthia threw their Poké Balls:
"Go—Zweilous!"
"Togepi—now! Evolve into Togetic!"
Togepi erged and imdiately burst into light, transforming into Togetic, wings spreading wide as it flew beside Hydreigon—charging toward Bruno's Steelix together.
At the sa ti, their two Garchomps stood behind them, waiting.
The mont their frontline Pokémon faltered, the dragons would launch.
In truth, the strongest Pokémon currently battling were Pikachu and Scizor—both being aces of their respective trainers. But since Yellow wasn't their original trainer, her commands couldn't draw out their true peak yet. This battle was also training—her chance to synchronize with them.
Zweilous, newly evolved Togetic, and Aurorus joined them—five Pokémon surrounding Bruno.
He was forced into defense.
But both champions knew—
Bruno still held the advantage.
He wasn't attacking for a reason.
If he committed to offense and left an opening, Logan or Cynthia could unleash their true aces—and one wrong move could cost him everything.
"Using as training material, huh?"
Bruno's forehead bulged with veins. If not for years of self-discipline, he would've exploded.
He had already spent a year and a half helping Logan train—passing down his own secrets of martial mastery.
And now—he was a sparring dummy for a little girl too.
It was humiliating beyond words.
"Bruno," Logan said evenly, "you can't run anymore. Even if you burrow underground again, there are no snowy mountains nearby for escape. You're boxed in."
"So—"
Logan raised his voice like a cold blade—
"Tell where the Elite Four are hiding."
Bruno maneuvered Steelix, dodging beams and slashes as Hitmonchan and Hitmonlee intercepted stray attacks like shields. Under this pressure, he still found the calm to speak:
"...Sorry, Logan. For certain reasons—I cannot reveal anything."
Logan's brows furrowed.
He once believed Bruno stayed silent out of loyalty to the Elite Four. But now—he noticed sothing new.
Bruno's wrists and ankles.
When they trained together in Mt. Moon, Bruno always wore iron shackles—Logan thought they were weighted restraints.
But now, the shackles were gone.
Instead—dark violet markings coiled around his skin like living runes.
Not disgusting—just unnervingly mysterious, pulsing faintly like crawling shadows.
"I've seen those markings… sowhere."
Familiar—strangely familiar.
Logan fell into thought, trying to recall where he'd encountered such patterns before.
And as his attention wavered—
a cold-blooded creature crept above him on a branch, eyes like dead glass, body coiled tight, poised to strike.
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