The recovery speed of that Moltres is frighteningly fast…"
From a distance of over a hundred meters, Logan and Blaine sat separately on the backs of Garchomp and Charizard, watching the Moltres under Sabrina's control.
Though, to be precise, Blaine wasn't standing—he was clutching tightly to Charizard's thick neck. That was the difference in size between their Pokémon. Blaine's Charizard was nearly four meters tall, but still not broad enough to let someone stand stably upon its back. Logan's Garchomp, however, was massive enough that he could stand tall in midair without faltering.
To Logan, clinging to a Pokémon's neck while flying through the skies looked downright ridiculous. Even though appearance wasn't the most important thing for a Trainer, he still preferred his battles to be executed with a certain elegance. Sometimes, he wondered if he would do well in Pokémon Contests—because he always sought beauty even amidst brutality.
After unleashing Burn Up, Moltres's flames had dimmed drastically, yet in such a short span of time they already began to surge back with renewed life.
"If an ordinary Fire-type uses Burn Up, they temporarily lose their connection to fire altogether. But Moltres… truly worthy of being a mythical Pokémon—it still burns even after releasing it."
Blaine slipped on his trademark sunglasses. Living his entire life among the volcanoes of Cinnabar Island, he was used to glaring magma and blazing skies. Sunglasses had become second nature to him.
"Blaine, you really have studied Moltres in detail, haven't you?" Logan remarked with a smile.
"Well, I am the Fire-type Gym Leader of Kanto. Of course I'd have a fascination with the legendary Fire-type that's been whispered about in this region for centuries."
"So that's why you built your research facility in the heart of these volcanoes?"
Logan's tone was relaxed. His Gabite had evolved into Garchomp, and with that leap in power his mood had soared as well.
"I used to believe the rumors of Moltres living on Indigo Plateau were false, that it must dwell here among the volcanoes of Cinnabar. But Team Rocket has proven me wrong…" Blaine gave a bitter chuckle.
In this world, evolution wasn't as complicated as in the games. Pokémon didn't need to battle and reach levels to evolve. With age alone, they would eventually evolve naturally. But that sort of evolution was shallow—it sacrificed most of their hidden potential. Their power before and after would barely differ.
That kind of evolution was usually seen in household Pokémon—companions who lived long with their families, eventually evolving simply due to time.
But there was another path—the path Logan walked. A Trainer who drew out every drop of a Pokémon's hidden strength, ensuring each stage of evolution exploded with overwhelming growth. For Pokémon like Garchomp, who had two stages of evolution, the second transformation could be so drastic that the difference was like heaven and earth.
That was why no serious Trainer would capture a fully evolved wild Pokémon. Only by raising them from their early stages could one bring out their true potential.
This was what separated Trainers:
The first kind relied on tactical brilliance—turning the tide with clever strategies, even with weaker Pokémon. Red excelled at this, never giving up and always finding a way.
The second kind focused on raising Pokémon perfectly—ensuring every evolution unlocked their full potential. Blue was the master of this discipline.
The third kind refined techniques and moves—training Pokémon to unleash attacks with unmatched power and adaptability. Every Trainer did this, but the results varied.
As for Logan, even he wasn't sure where his specialty lay. He felt like he did everything well, but without a single defining edge. Perfect, yet oddly without uniqueness.
But when he truly thought about it—what he excelled at most was simply making Pokémon stronger in their purest essence. No tricks. No flair. Just raw, terrifying strength that anyone could see with their own eyes.
Because from the very beginning, Logan had glimpsed the true nature of a Pokémon's power. He had found the reason they grew stronger, the method to cultivate it. It was as if he had been handed the key to a realm no one else could reach.
If a Pokémon's level cap was one hundred, Logan already had a method to break that limit. That was the essence of Pokémon power. That was the ultimate height a Trainer could reach—
A Pokémon Grandmaster.
But that dream was not for today. For now, Logan still had to face Sabrina—who stood before him, her Moltres not yet defeated.
"Logan, let's go together! We must keep Sabrina here!" Blaine declared with renewed determination. Being humiliated by another Fire-type Trainer, even if it was with a legendary Pokémon, had stung his pride. Now, with Logan at his side, he was ready to redeem himself.
Yet Logan only smirked. "Blaine… for all the time you worked with Team Rocket alongside Sabrina, you still don't truly understand her, do you?"
"What do you mean?" Blaine asked, baffled.
Logan's gaze hardened as he crossed his arms atop Garchomp's back. His cold, composed stance mirrored Sabrina's own, radiating an unsettling sense of dominance.
"Sabrina is arrogant, yes—but she's no fool. She doesn't excel at head-on clashes with uncertain outcomes. No… she's a schemer. She sets traps, one after another, until her opponent is left with no escape. From the very moment she had Moltres unleash Burn Up, she was already looking for her exit strategy…"
As if on cue, Blaine felt it too—the ripple of psychic energy.
"Charizard!" he roared.
Charizard spewed a blazing inferno at Sabrina, but the flames smashed against an invisible wall just before reaching her. Sparks scattered harmlessly into the bubbling magma below.
"I should be happy, shouldn't I, Logan?" Sabrina sneered coldly. A lesser person might feel joy at meeting someone who understood them so well. But not her. For Logan's insight came from the most humiliating violation of all—piercing through her psychic defenses and reading her heart directly.
"You should be happy, Sabrina. Because in this world, no one knows you better than I do. Not even your parents."
Logan's smirk widened. He made no move to stop her escape.
"Instead of wasting time with jokes, perhaps you should hurry back to Pallet Town. Something must have happened there. We'll meet again in Saffron!"
Her words were poised, almost triumphant—but Logan's next sentence wiped away her satisfaction instantly.
"See, Blaine? I told you. Sabrina's strength isn't her power—it's her schemes. Something's happened in Pallet. She knows it'll force me to Saffron, where she'll already have her traps waiting for me. That's her style."
Every word Logan spoke was exactly what Sabrina had thought herself.
"You—!"
Her usually composed face twisted in anger. She opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, psychic energy enveloped her, and she vanished from sight.
Somewhere, Sabrina was no doubt fuming.
Blaine chuckled under his breath. He knew Sabrina well enough to understand—this cold, prideful woman never lost her composure. Yet Logan had managed to provoke her into trembling rage. Their relationship was far more twisted than it appeared.
And then Blaine realized—Logan had let her escape on purpose.
He couldn't name it, but he sensed the malice behind Logan's actions. This wasn't just about defeating Sabrina. Logan was toying with her, slowly cornering her, forcing her into despair. He would allow her to feel victory, only to snatch it away at the peak of her triumph. Until the day she broke completely.
It was cruel. Far crueller than killing her outright.
And Blaine could only wonder—what kind of grudge could make Logan treat a woman this way?
This wasn't a battle of strength. It was the systematic destruction of a soul.
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T/N:
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