Chapter 97. P1 Grand Prix
"After yesterday's track-and-field preliminaries, the judges have compiled the top ten seeded competitors most likely to win!"
"They are—"
"The Kicking Fiend—Mr. Jiro Takeshi's Hitmonlee!"
A spotlight snapped on.
Everyone looked over to see a Trainer in a heavy overcoat, massive in build, wearing a mask and sunglasses, walk out.
Seeing that physique, Natsume almost thought he had wandered into the world of One Piece.
He instinctively probed with telekinesis—Team Rocket's trio?
"Next up—"
"Boxing Master—Mr. Anthony's Hitmonchan!"
A second spotlight fell, and a burly man waved to the crowd.
"That's Rebecca's father!" Brock stared hard.
"So it's him, huh.
I won't lose—"
As Ash spoke, he suddenly drooped.
The Pokémon he registered for the tournament was center-parted.
During yesterday afternoon's track test, center-parted slept from start to finish and—much to everyone's "delight"—placed dead last.
"The third seed—"
"And the last of the ten—though none of his Pokémon are Fighting type, thanks to their powerful bodies he's still a favorite to win."
"That is—Mr. Natsume's Dragonite!"
A spotlight crashed down, bathing Natsume and the giant Dragonite in light.
"Of course, aside from these ten seeds, don't underestimate the other entrants.
When you place your bets, it all comes down to your eye for talent."
"Who knows—maybe that Pikachu that slept till dawn will be the champion!"
As the announcer finished, roaring laughter broke out from the stands.
"What is it, what is it?"
More and more spectators asked up in the seats.
Those who had already watched the prelims explained:
"It's that Pikachu with the center part."
"Yeah, on day one of the prelims it lay down on the track and started sleeping, and its Trainer couldn't wake it up."
"Even that obviously-here-to-goof-off Oddish managed to run a whole lap."
In no time, most of the audience understood the situation.
Plenty of them were first-timers at the P1 Grand Prix and had no idea how to bet to make some pocket money.
The judges' picks were only a reference anyway, and plenty of competitors had surely sandbagged during prelims.
Now, with that Pikachu around, they figured they could just bet against it and definitely make a profit.
"Honora, Natsume told us to put all our money on center-parted.
Are we really okay?" Misty asked worriedly.
Honora only smiled and kept nodding.
These past few days, Natsume had trained center-parted with her every single day.
How much it had improved was something only she and Natsume knew.
"Center-parted, let's work hard together.
We can't let people look down on us!"
"Pika pi!" Pikachu clenched its fists, cheering for center-parted.
"Pika—"
Center-parted tugged up the blanket, rolled over, and kept sleeping.
"…"
"According to yesterday's drawing, the first-round brackets are out!"
The announcer boomed, and at the same time, the big screen in the arena lit up with rows of matching headshots.
"Huh?
Why am I in Group D—and at the very end?" Ash covered his face.
To avoid certain matchups in the P1 Grand Prix turning into foregone conclusions, the judges had divided the field into Groups A, B, C, and D according to prelims performance.
"Geodude and I are in Group C, and Natsume's in Group A," Brock reported.
"Ash."
Natsume suddenly put a hand on Ash's shoulder.
"Ever heard the saying, 'Don't look down on a kid just because he's down on luck'?" Natsume said gravely.
"What kid down on luck?" Ash blinked, confused.
"Whoooosh—"
Fireworks burst overhead.
Four Fighting rings rose slowly up from the ground.
"Group A, match one: Mr. Natsume's Dragonite vs. Mr. Barry's Machamp!"
"Group B, match one—"
"Group C, match one—"
"Group D, match one: Ash Ketchum's Pikachu vs. Scarlett's Oddish!"
"Natsume, Ash, you've got this!" Brock cheered them on.
On Ring A, a Pokémon with four arms and a body packed with muscle leapt up onto the canvas.
"Director, give us the shot of Ring A!"
"Wow, wow, wow—what an incredible Machamp!
Its skin—Mr. Barry has rubbed it down with oil!"
Machamp's four arms bulged with veins, bronze muscles gleaming like molten rock.
"Machamp, show your presence—use Bulk Up!"
Machamp's Trainer, the portly man named Barry, wore a suit and a little hat, looking nothing like someone who worked out.
"Maaach—!"
Machamp roared.
It turned its back, raised all four arms high, back muscles flaring like a demon's wings, every inch of skin slicked with berry oil.
The overpowering display drew a roar from the stands.
"This is the result of one month training at the Riba Judo Gym in Celadon City!
Riba Judo Gym!"
Barry whipped off his suit jacket, revealing the shirt underneath printed with the "Riba Judo" logo.
He waved to the crowd, and his chubby frame stretched the logo across his shirt.
With the director's close-up, everyone could see it clearly on the big screen.
You can even run free ads during a match?
Natsume smacked his forehead, suddenly feeling he wasn't enterprising enough.
"Now, please welcome Mr. Natsume's Dragonite!"
With the atmosphere primed, the announcer immediately called Natsume to the stage.
"Thud! Thud! Thud!"
The ground began to tremble, and many spectators looked over in surprise toward Natsume.
Behind him, a colossal Dragonite strode out.
"It's that Dragonite—its size is unbelievable.
I thought it could do it when I saw it yesterday!"
"Yeah, those mismatched wings leave a real impression."
Many spectators started betting on Natsume's Dragonite, though most still put their money on Barry.
"Uuuuh—"
Dragonite's face was fierce as it walked step by step toward the ring.
Dragonite didn't fly.
It stepped onto the apron one foot at a time.
The ring ropes dug into its belly, the corner posts creaking as they were pulled taut.
Drops of red sweat pattered onto the floor one after another, making Machamp's skin crawl just to watch.
Bracing against all four ropes, Dragonite forced its way right up to Machamp, face to face.
"Bang!"
One rope gave way first under the strain and snapped.
"Maaach—"
Set in its stance, Machamp couldn't hold it anymore, and it looked a bit shaken facing this big, fierce-faced Dragonite.
"Craaaack!"
With a tooth-aching sound, all four ropes snapped.
Dragonite snorted a puff of pale red heat from its nostrils that washed over Machamp.
At the same time, sweat poured off Dragonite like rain.
Red rivulets ran down its face, seeping into the furrows and making it look like it had just washed up from a pool of blood.
"Woooow!
What astonishing power—what an opening show of force!"
The announcer cried out right on cue, stoking the crowd.
The director's camera locked onto Dragonite's savage features.
"Wow, this Dragonite really is something.
I didn't bet wrong!"
"Not so fast—Machamp's good at using leverage."
Those who bet on Machamp bristled.
Ring A.
"Damn it—Machamp, don't lose to it!
Show our spirit!"
"This kind of lumbering opponent is exactly what we at Riba Judo handle best!"
Across the ring, Barry shouted encouragement to Machamp.
"Maaach—!"
Machamp roared, craning its neck to stare Dragonite down, eye to eye.
"Mr. Barry's pep talk just pushed back Mr. Natsume's planned show of force!"
The announcer kept fanning the flames.
On the other side, Natsume scratched his head.
Mm, that wasn't a show of force.
The big lug just didn't know how to get in, and it's too strong for its own good.
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