Lin Shou's fingertips hovered above the keyboard for a moment before finally striking the keys with a decisive rhythm. Line after line appeared on the chat window—a detailed, step-by-step guide on dismantling the "Perish Song" strategy.
Outside his window, the air conditioner hummed steadily, a faint background drone to the quiet of the room. The pale blue glow of the computer screen lit the tip of his nose, making the whole scene feel oddly tactical—as if he were plotting a covert mission instead of typing in a gaming chat.
The Perish Song strategy was deceptively simple. The move's effect was this: once the user sang it, all Pokémon on the battlefield would fall into a doomed state. After exactly three turns, if they hadn't been switched out, they'd faint—no exceptions.
The trick wasn't just using the move, though. No—true mastery lay in preventing the opponent from swapping out their Pokémon before the fatal countdown ended. That meant pinning them down with abilities like Shadow Tag, forcing them to watch the counter tick to zero while you stalled for time.
Lin Shou highlighted the role of Shadow Tag in bold red text and even drew a flashing star next to the move list for Gothitelle—a Pokémon essential to this tactic. The only real challenge, he noted, was finding a Gothitelle with its hidden ability. But knowing the player he was advising, Ruby, he doubted it would be much of a problem.
Satisfied, he sent the message and leaned back, letting his eyes wander toward the idle hum of the air conditioner.
An hour later, his chat pinged.
[Starlight Sparkle]: Send me your bank account number.
He blinked at the message. Just like that? No haggling? No follow-up questions? Ruby was being unusually generous… too generous.
Something in his gut told him this wasn't so simple. If he handed over his details, she might trace his real name, look him up, maybe even walk into his store one day demanding answers about his "true identity."
After a moment of careful thought, he typed back:
[Leave it with you for now. You can pay me when we meet in person.]
On the other end of the screen, Ruby read his reply with wide eyes.
"This guy's actually doing charity," she murmured. Not only had "Team Rocket Boss Lin" given her a game-changing tactic at what she thought was an absurdly low cost, he now refused to even take payment.
She leaned back in her chair, breath fogging faintly on the monitor. Her Gardevoir, standing beside her, didn't quite understand what her trainer was so engrossed in, but she mimicked Ruby's dreamy expression anyway.
"It turns out Pokémon battles can be like this…" Ruby whispered.
Her earlier thirst for revenge on this mysterious man was gone. Now she only wanted to meet him.
"Team Rocket…" she muttered, eyes narrowing. It wasn't much to go on, but it was a lead. She typed the words into a search engine—only to be met with bizarre results: random references to unrelated things sharing the same phrase. No trace of an actual organization.
A mischievous idea crept into her mind. What if I set up a company named 'Team Rocket'? Would that draw him out?
She smiled to herself.
Lin Shou, of course, had no idea what storm his casual words had just stirred up.
The next morning, before the dew had even begun to fade from the streets, he tore off his hospital bandages and quietly slipped out.
The training hall was as empty as ever, as if nothing had happened during his absence. He had just stepped inside when the speakers crackled.
[Beep—]
"Announcement: Lin Shou, please report to the basement storage room immediately. Your Pokémon misses you very much. I repeat, please—"
It was Latina's voice. She was home? He'd thought she had taken Squirtle out for errands.
As soon as he reached the stairwell, he heard her again: "Boss, you're finally here, that's great!"
Squirtle was curled up in his shell nearby, fast asleep, clearly exhausted from staying up too late.
Before he could ask what was going on, Latina launched into a cheerful complaint. "You know, Boss, I've been calling you over the radio all night!"
His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. So no one had told her he'd been taken to the hospital. Wonderful. He could have stayed in bed two more days.
"What's so urgent that you dragged me here?" he asked.
The underground storage room, which had been under renovation, was now open. Latina didn't answer—she simply grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside.
The sight that greeted him was… unexpected. An entire wall covered in monitors.
"This," she declared proudly, "is the new monitoring room and broadcast station. I plan to work here when I'm free."
Lin Shou thought back to her reclusive habits over the past few days. She wasn't much for interacting with people—except for him, apparently.
She gestured to a closed metal door. "That's where I rest. New toilet and shower inside." She didn't seem inclined to offer a tour.
"And over here," she continued, leading him to the largest space, "will be the Ancient Civilization Research Lab. Once the equipment's updated, I can start my work here."
It was only then that she admitted the real reason for calling him. "I, uh… moved the ancient protective force field from upstairs and reinstalled it down here. But don't worry, Boss—it won't affect the ancient device's performance!"
Curious, Lin Shou opened the system interface and scanned the machine.
[Ancient Device (Damage: 95%)]
If he remembered correctly, the last time he checked, the damage level had been at 97%.
"…Huh," he murmured. "Guess she really did fix something."