Lee checked his watch. It had been an hour and five minutes since he’d let Kenta go off by himself, and he already felt foolish for doing it. Cop or no cop, he wouldn’t stand a chance if the local electric pokémon did decide to attack him. How much longer could he, Lee, sit in Soca’s and wait like this? Looking up from his watch, he nearly leaped out of his skin when he saw that Kenta was standing next to him, leaning on the table. The latter grinned cheekily.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“It’s fine. Glad to see you’re not dead.”
“I anticipate hearing that a lot.”
“What?”
“Oh, nothing.” Kenta slid into the seat opposite from Lee, and looked around the inside of the pub. It seemed like a typical restaurant for the most part, with families of four and five chatting busily away at their own tables, but there was a rowdy din coming from further in the back. Leaning to the side a little, Kenta spotted the source- a giant of a man was sitting on his stool in front of a bar, laughing uproariously and waving around a great mug of beer in his right hand. Kenta’s police impulses immediately kicked in, and he wondered if he’d have to step in if the man happened to be an angry drunk. But he stopped himself, realizing with some regret that he wasn’t really an officer anymore. Instead, he turned his attention back to Lee, pointing subtly at the big man.
“He seems to be having a swell time.”
“Oh, that guy.” Lee rolled his eyes. “That man’s name is Boris. He’s a hiker who lumbered in here about five days ago. Apparently, the guy goes from town to town, challenging people to pokémon battles and spending his winnings on booze. Kind of depressing, if you ask me.”
Kenta looked back at Boris, feeling less annoyance and more pity for the man now. On the move all day, and hitting the bottle all night, huh? It’s . . . almost as if he’s trying to escape from something. I wonder if a bad memory haunts that guy . . .
“So he collects money for winning battles, you say? What about if he loses?”
Lee made an ugly face. “Boris happens to be a TM move tutor. He doesn’t pay money for losing, he agrees to teach the victor a special move. We happen to need that very move, and badly, because of its usefulness against the Magnemite and Magneton. But the trainers of Henna Villa aren’t seasoned enough, and he’s beaten all of his challengers so far.”
Kenta raised an eyebrow, interested. “Is that so? What move is it?”
***
“Hey. Boris!”
“Hmmmm?”
The enormous hiker swiveled slowly around in his chair, holding his mug carefully so that nothing would spill, and stared somewhat blearily down at Kenta. He leaned himself lower so that he was almost face level with Kenta. “What can I do for you, b-*urp!*- buddy?” he belched, swaying slightly with a silly grin on his face.
Kenta pointed a thumb at himself. “I hear you’re a pokémon trainer. Well, I’m one too!” he declared, pumping his chest up. “If you’re up to it, I challenge you to a battle!”
I hope I sound childish enough, he thought, clenching his fist. I need this guy to say yes.
Boris gave a guffawing laugh, then raised his mug and drained the rest of the beer in one drink. Banging it down on the counter and breathing an “aaah!” of satisfaction, he dropped onto his feet from the stool and stood towering over Kenta. “Got any money, kid?” he asked with a smile. “I could always use some more of that!”
“No, I don’t have any money . . .” Kenta reached into his pocket and pulled out his grayish-blue rock. “But I will stake this.”
“What’s that?”
“An Everstone.” Kenta tossed the stone between his hands. “Did you see the news? Soon they’ll be banning every pokémon that’s considered too powerful for ordinary trainers. You may want to hold on to this, just in case one of your pokémon is about to evolve into something overly-strong.”
At this, Boris laughed even harder and louder, causing a few heads at some tables to turn. The hiker paid them no heed. “All of my pokémon are already overly-strong, evolved or not!” he bellowed gleefully. “But if you really want to battle, I suppose I could just sell your stone later. Consider this one on me!”
It doesn’t sell for much, but now’s not the time to be saying that.
“Okay, then.” Kenta leaned closer to Boris’s bearded face, so that only he would hear. “Meet me on the eastern outskirts of the town. I’ll take you, there.”
In less than ten minutes, the two trainers were out of Soca’s and standing apart, facing one another with the mountain atmosphere looming around them. Boris widened one of his pokeballs and gave it a hefty throw, wearing the same silly smile from when Kenta had met him. “Alrighty! Go get them, Machoke!”
A gray, humanoid pokémon with the face of a stubby-snouted alligator appeared in a burst of light, arms outstretched as though ready to tussle. Kenta put his fingers to his mouth and blew, sending a shrill whistle echoing through the mountains. From behind a colossal rock formation to his right, a bolt of red and blue shot up into the sky. A moment later, it thudded to the ground in front of Kenta, causing a slight tremor in the earth which shook his balance. From the opposite side of the battlefield, Boris gave a low whistle and scratched his beard excitedly.
“Well now, that’s a pretty big animal, isn’t it?” he called to Kenta. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of those before. How’s its battling ability?”
“You’ll see,” muttered Kenta, his mind flashing to Lee. This isn’t just for you, but for everyone in your village. You gave, and now you’ll get back. “Bolt! Use Dragonbreath!”
“Crush! Dash straight through it!” roared Boris in response.
Bolt opened his mouth wide and blasted out a firestorm of green flames. The Machoke rushed straight into the pillar of fire, holding up its arms in a cross to protect its face. “Now!” came Boris’s shout, “Cross Chop!”
“Hold strong!” barked Kenta, his entire body tense and alive, no longer feeling the pain of the burns.
Machoke pulled its arms tight in a scissor-chop, and smashed both sides of Bolt’s face with the incredible power of two Karate Chop attacks. An impulse commanded Kenta to cringe, but he resisted bitterly. He’d long since learned from Bakuphoon that to falter even for a moment from empathized pain was dangerous to the pokémon’s health. The trainer had to take mental blows and bear them quietly, no matter how horrifying. To the ignorant onlooker, it might appear that the trainer was cold and indifferent to his pokémon’s pain. Those within the relationship, however, knew the real truth. And it was about to pay off.
“We’ve got you now!” cheered Boris heartily. He stopped short as Bolt’s great jaws slammed together on his Machoke’s arms, causing it to roar in pain. “On the contrary,” called Kenta, “we’ve got you. Bolt, time for Fly!”
The enormous Salamence wings billowed out, and a moment later, the two pokémon combatants were gone in a storm of scattering dust. Kenta watched Bolt rise at a vertical angle, then twist and corkscrew in a spinning arc, the Machoke still hanging helplessly from his mouth. As they dove back towards the ground at a furious speed, Bolt let go of Machoke’s arms and curved his flight at level with the ground. Machoke slammed onto the dirt road with the force of a falling comet, still spinning, and slowed to a stop at an awkward body angle. The swirls in its eyes proved that it would not be getting back up.
“Crush!” cried Boris, looking absolutely stunned at the result of Bolt’s deadly work. “Are you okay? Speak to me!”
“Ma . . . . . choke . . .”
Bolt landed beside Kenta, giving him a look that seemed to ask “how did I do?” Kenta beamed at his hardworking Salamence and patted Bolt’s neck. “For someone who only recently gained his wings, you’re one hell of a flier already,” he said approvingly. “But how’s your jaw? That was quite a hit you took.”
Bolt’s lips parted into an intimidating smile that showed all his gleaming teeth, and Kenta nodded, understanding. “Ah, I get it. You’ve got a new special ability now, don’t you? Just in time, too.”
Both of them looked over at Boris, who’d just recalled his beaten Machoke into its pokeball. He looked distinctly more serious, now. “That’s quite a tough ‘un you’ve got there,” he boomed, holding up a second pokeball. “Is that supposed to be one of them illegal pokémon you were talking about?”
“Bolt’s not illegal yet,” said Kenta, smiling humorlessly. And when he is, they’re not getting him like they took Baku. I swear to that.
“Whatever you call him, he’s still just practice!” bellowed Boris, tossing his next pokeball. “Show ‘em what you got, Spike!”
In a flash of white light, Boris’s next pokémon appeared; a Pupitar. Something occurred to Kenta, and he held up his hands in a “t” sign. “Woah, hold on a second! Time out.” He pointed to his Salamence. “Bolt’s the only pokémon I use, now. I thought this was a one-on-one battle!”
“You should’ve said something beforehand, then,” Boris replied, crossing his arms resolutely. “The winner is whoever’s still got a pokémon left to use. That’ll be me!”
Bolt gave a deep-throated growl, and Kenta’s eyes narrowed. “We’ll see about that. How’re you feeling, Bolt?”
Any noise the Salamence might have made was drowned out by a sudden shrill siren sounding to the west. Both trainers and pokémon turned in alarm at the sound, and Kenta noticed a familiar figure running from the distant town of Henna Villa straight at them. “Hey!” came Lee’s voice faintly over the siren. “What are you guys doing out here?! It’s dangerous now! The magnet pokémon are coming back out!”
“Sorry I’m late.”
“It’s fine. Glad to see you’re not dead.”
“I anticipate hearing that a lot.”
“What?”
“Oh, nothing.” Kenta slid into the seat opposite from Lee, and looked around the inside of the pub. It seemed like a typical restaurant for the most part, with families of four and five chatting busily away at their own tables, but there was a rowdy din coming from further in the back. Leaning to the side a little, Kenta spotted the source- a giant of a man was sitting on his stool in front of a bar, laughing uproariously and waving around a great mug of beer in his right hand. Kenta’s police impulses immediately kicked in, and he wondered if he’d have to step in if the man happened to be an angry drunk. But he stopped himself, realizing with some regret that he wasn’t really an officer anymore. Instead, he turned his attention back to Lee, pointing subtly at the big man.
“He seems to be having a swell time.”
“Oh, that guy.” Lee rolled his eyes. “That man’s name is Boris. He’s a hiker who lumbered in here about five days ago. Apparently, the guy goes from town to town, challenging people to pokémon battles and spending his winnings on booze. Kind of depressing, if you ask me.”
Kenta looked back at Boris, feeling less annoyance and more pity for the man now. On the move all day, and hitting the bottle all night, huh? It’s . . . almost as if he’s trying to escape from something. I wonder if a bad memory haunts that guy . . .
“So he collects money for winning battles, you say? What about if he loses?”
Lee made an ugly face. “Boris happens to be a TM move tutor. He doesn’t pay money for losing, he agrees to teach the victor a special move. We happen to need that very move, and badly, because of its usefulness against the Magnemite and Magneton. But the trainers of Henna Villa aren’t seasoned enough, and he’s beaten all of his challengers so far.”
Kenta raised an eyebrow, interested. “Is that so? What move is it?”
***
“Hey. Boris!”
“Hmmmm?”
The enormous hiker swiveled slowly around in his chair, holding his mug carefully so that nothing would spill, and stared somewhat blearily down at Kenta. He leaned himself lower so that he was almost face level with Kenta. “What can I do for you, b-*urp!*- buddy?” he belched, swaying slightly with a silly grin on his face.
Kenta pointed a thumb at himself. “I hear you’re a pokémon trainer. Well, I’m one too!” he declared, pumping his chest up. “If you’re up to it, I challenge you to a battle!”
I hope I sound childish enough, he thought, clenching his fist. I need this guy to say yes.
Boris gave a guffawing laugh, then raised his mug and drained the rest of the beer in one drink. Banging it down on the counter and breathing an “aaah!” of satisfaction, he dropped onto his feet from the stool and stood towering over Kenta. “Got any money, kid?” he asked with a smile. “I could always use some more of that!”
“No, I don’t have any money . . .” Kenta reached into his pocket and pulled out his grayish-blue rock. “But I will stake this.”
“What’s that?”
“An Everstone.” Kenta tossed the stone between his hands. “Did you see the news? Soon they’ll be banning every pokémon that’s considered too powerful for ordinary trainers. You may want to hold on to this, just in case one of your pokémon is about to evolve into something overly-strong.”
At this, Boris laughed even harder and louder, causing a few heads at some tables to turn. The hiker paid them no heed. “All of my pokémon are already overly-strong, evolved or not!” he bellowed gleefully. “But if you really want to battle, I suppose I could just sell your stone later. Consider this one on me!”
It doesn’t sell for much, but now’s not the time to be saying that.
“Okay, then.” Kenta leaned closer to Boris’s bearded face, so that only he would hear. “Meet me on the eastern outskirts of the town. I’ll take you, there.”
In less than ten minutes, the two trainers were out of Soca’s and standing apart, facing one another with the mountain atmosphere looming around them. Boris widened one of his pokeballs and gave it a hefty throw, wearing the same silly smile from when Kenta had met him. “Alrighty! Go get them, Machoke!”
A gray, humanoid pokémon with the face of a stubby-snouted alligator appeared in a burst of light, arms outstretched as though ready to tussle. Kenta put his fingers to his mouth and blew, sending a shrill whistle echoing through the mountains. From behind a colossal rock formation to his right, a bolt of red and blue shot up into the sky. A moment later, it thudded to the ground in front of Kenta, causing a slight tremor in the earth which shook his balance. From the opposite side of the battlefield, Boris gave a low whistle and scratched his beard excitedly.
“Well now, that’s a pretty big animal, isn’t it?” he called to Kenta. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of those before. How’s its battling ability?”
“You’ll see,” muttered Kenta, his mind flashing to Lee. This isn’t just for you, but for everyone in your village. You gave, and now you’ll get back. “Bolt! Use Dragonbreath!”
“Crush! Dash straight through it!” roared Boris in response.
Bolt opened his mouth wide and blasted out a firestorm of green flames. The Machoke rushed straight into the pillar of fire, holding up its arms in a cross to protect its face. “Now!” came Boris’s shout, “Cross Chop!”
“Hold strong!” barked Kenta, his entire body tense and alive, no longer feeling the pain of the burns.
Machoke pulled its arms tight in a scissor-chop, and smashed both sides of Bolt’s face with the incredible power of two Karate Chop attacks. An impulse commanded Kenta to cringe, but he resisted bitterly. He’d long since learned from Bakuphoon that to falter even for a moment from empathized pain was dangerous to the pokémon’s health. The trainer had to take mental blows and bear them quietly, no matter how horrifying. To the ignorant onlooker, it might appear that the trainer was cold and indifferent to his pokémon’s pain. Those within the relationship, however, knew the real truth. And it was about to pay off.
“We’ve got you now!” cheered Boris heartily. He stopped short as Bolt’s great jaws slammed together on his Machoke’s arms, causing it to roar in pain. “On the contrary,” called Kenta, “we’ve got you. Bolt, time for Fly!”
The enormous Salamence wings billowed out, and a moment later, the two pokémon combatants were gone in a storm of scattering dust. Kenta watched Bolt rise at a vertical angle, then twist and corkscrew in a spinning arc, the Machoke still hanging helplessly from his mouth. As they dove back towards the ground at a furious speed, Bolt let go of Machoke’s arms and curved his flight at level with the ground. Machoke slammed onto the dirt road with the force of a falling comet, still spinning, and slowed to a stop at an awkward body angle. The swirls in its eyes proved that it would not be getting back up.
“Crush!” cried Boris, looking absolutely stunned at the result of Bolt’s deadly work. “Are you okay? Speak to me!”
“Ma . . . . . choke . . .”
Bolt landed beside Kenta, giving him a look that seemed to ask “how did I do?” Kenta beamed at his hardworking Salamence and patted Bolt’s neck. “For someone who only recently gained his wings, you’re one hell of a flier already,” he said approvingly. “But how’s your jaw? That was quite a hit you took.”
Bolt’s lips parted into an intimidating smile that showed all his gleaming teeth, and Kenta nodded, understanding. “Ah, I get it. You’ve got a new special ability now, don’t you? Just in time, too.”
Both of them looked over at Boris, who’d just recalled his beaten Machoke into its pokeball. He looked distinctly more serious, now. “That’s quite a tough ‘un you’ve got there,” he boomed, holding up a second pokeball. “Is that supposed to be one of them illegal pokémon you were talking about?”
“Bolt’s not illegal yet,” said Kenta, smiling humorlessly. And when he is, they’re not getting him like they took Baku. I swear to that.
“Whatever you call him, he’s still just practice!” bellowed Boris, tossing his next pokeball. “Show ‘em what you got, Spike!”
In a flash of white light, Boris’s next pokémon appeared; a Pupitar. Something occurred to Kenta, and he held up his hands in a “t” sign. “Woah, hold on a second! Time out.” He pointed to his Salamence. “Bolt’s the only pokémon I use, now. I thought this was a one-on-one battle!”
“You should’ve said something beforehand, then,” Boris replied, crossing his arms resolutely. “The winner is whoever’s still got a pokémon left to use. That’ll be me!”
Bolt gave a deep-throated growl, and Kenta’s eyes narrowed. “We’ll see about that. How’re you feeling, Bolt?”
Any noise the Salamence might have made was drowned out by a sudden shrill siren sounding to the west. Both trainers and pokémon turned in alarm at the sound, and Kenta noticed a familiar figure running from the distant town of Henna Villa straight at them. “Hey!” came Lee’s voice faintly over the siren. “What are you guys doing out here?! It’s dangerous now! The magnet pokémon are coming back out!”