The screen of Lin Shou's phone lit up, the familiar notification tone chiming. Sure enough, it was a message from his long-time online acquaintance, [Starlight Shining].
[Why so quiet?]
[Don't tell me you've run into something you can't handle? Kukukuku~]
In the latest pop-up, a pixel-pink Meowth sticker covered its mouth with one paw, its ears twitching in mock amusement. Behind it, fluorescent text streamed across the background like a barrage in a livestream: If you're bad at something, practice more.
Lin Shou had long since grown used to her peculiar way of speaking, but tonight—perhaps thanks to the alcohol warming his system—it grated on him. He tapped back a reply, fingers moving faster than his usual composed pace.
I've been busy running the organization these past two days. No time to chat.
Almost before the message bubble could fade, her status flipped to typing, her pink Meowth avatar blinking furiously.
[?][Wait… seriously? You're in trouble? I'm dying of laughter!]
A corner of his mouth twitched. Truth be told, Lin Shou found her amusing in small doses—just enough to kill time when the world wasn't demanding his full attention.
What a joke! he sent. As if there's anything Team Rocket can't handle. Even if Primal Groudon suddenly woke up, I'd still have a way to deal with it.
And then, with a crooked grin, he typed another line: Step one—remember Groudon can't fly.
There was a long pause—rare for her. Nearly five seconds passed before she replied with a single punctuation mark: [?]
Ruby, on the other end, was genuinely stunned. She knew the name Groudon well enough—most trainers did—but very few knew the whispered legends, the real details that were guarded like state secrets. If this "Team Rocket Boss Lin" could casually drop its name… then he wasn't some ordinary blowhard.
[I've already mastered that Song-Destroying Squad tactic you gave me.]
She hit send, then, for reasons she didn't want to examine too closely, pulled her blanket tighter, the air-conditioning's chill brushing her bare arms. Beneath the blanket's weight, she could feel her own heartbeat pounding against her curled-up knees.
The reply she got was not the warm praise she had been unconsciously expecting.
[oh]
Her eyes widened. "Huh?" Ruby tossed her blanket aside so fast it slid to the floor, her hair swaying and brushing against the coffee mug on her bedside table. She scampered to the bay window without even slipping on her slippers, the moonlight breaking her reflection into fragments on the glass.
The little fantasy she had—being recognized as a prodigy, basking in his admiring words—shattered instantly. In its place came the heat of embarrassment, prickling at the back of her neck.
[Oh what?! Come on, fight me! Let's see how much I've improved!]
Twenty table-slamming emojis followed, along with a pink Meowth sticker waving both paws like it was issuing a challenge.
Ruby could almost taste the satisfaction of knocking "Team Rocket Boss Lin" flat and basking in the inevitable flood of reluctant praise. The thought made her grin.
But this time, the reply took forever. She refreshed the chat again and again. Finally—after what felt like an eternity—two words appeared:
[No fight]
Her jaw dropped. Was he serious?
If it weren't late at night—if she could actually go out to buy a new phone—Ruby might have hurled the current one at the wall.
[No way, no way. You're not scared, are you? Afraid you'll lose face if I win?] she typed, then after a beat, added: [Don't worry, even if I win, I'll save you some dignity. Just admit you have limits~]
She sent it, then flopped face-first into her pillow, legs kicking in frustration. When she lifted her head, the strands of her fringe clung to the tip of her reddened nose.
Lin Shou, on his end, was utterly speechless. Battling Pokémon all day was exhausting enough—now he was half-drunk and in no mood to humor a restless girl looking for validation.
I already know you're using the Song-Destroying Squad. What's the point in fighting?
[What do you mean?] she shot back immediately.
You don't actually think the Song-Destroying Squad is unbeatable, do you? I could teach you a counter-strategy that has no loopholes.
The phone slipped from his fingers, bouncing twice on the plush carpet.
Ruby was still curled up under her blanket fortress when the notification pinged again. She poked her head out cautiously, like a Meowth peeking around a corner.
Her eyes widened—he'd sent a long message. The strategy he laid out was brutal and meticulous: bait-and-switch traps, precision counters, layering status effects with surgical timing. Every word landed like a hammer against her temple.
Lin Shou, meanwhile, felt his thoughts growing sluggish. His eyelids were heavy, and the warmth of the alcohol made the bed seem impossibly inviting. He sent one final message before surrendering to sleep:
I have something else to do. To prevent the world's destruction, to protect world peace, to carry out love and true evil—we are Team Rocket, a lovable and charming villain traveling through the galaxy. White hole, a white tomorrow awaits us!
The moment the childish yet iconic motto was delivered, his consciousness slipped away.
Ruby, frozen in place with her phone in hand, read the line three times before murmuring in disbelief, "…Is this your Team Rocket's slogan?"
By morning, the hangover had dulled to a faint throb. Lin Shou stood outside the hotel's revolving doors, tearing the wrapper from an energy bar.
Tilting back his head, he drained the last sip from a canned coffee. The glass facade in front of him threw back his reflection: black tactical pants stained with grass, jacket rumpled, and a single half-dead leaf stuck in his zipper. He looked less like a dignified leader and more like a stray trainer who'd spent the night wrestling in the underbrush.
"Mr. Lin, are you sure you won't consider upgrading to an executive suite?" The receptionist leaned over the marble counter for the third time, her perfume mingling with the warm air from the central AC. "We can arrange a bellhop to—"
"Forget it," Lin Shou cut in. "I've got other things to do. Just extend my stay by five days."
He stuffed the egg sandwich from the breakfast bar into his pocket, pushing through the revolving doors. As the metal frame clicked shut behind him, a gust of cold wind slipped in, flipping the pages of the appointment register at the front desk.
Beyond the city's edge, the morning mist still clung to the reserve's undergrowth. In dew-damp hiking boots, the forest hunter slipped into the bushes, disappearing into the shadows.