The next morning, 8:30 a.m.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the grand Pokémon tournament officially hosted by the S.S. Anne!"
A host whose slicked-back hair looked sturdy enough to swat flies stood at the center of the stage, gripping a microphone and shouting with excitement.
"A total of 320 Trainers are participating in this competition! Thank you all for your incredible enthusiasm! Now, allow me to explain the rules. This will be a one-on-one single-elimination tournament—the winner advances. I'm sure everyone understands that part. However, the next rule may be a little… unfriendly to some Trainers."
At this point, the host deliberately paused, selling the suspense.
"We're currently out at sea. The only thing protecting us is the S.S. Anne itself. If the ship were to suffer damage—say, a breach—then wouldn't all of us be in serious danger?"
"Yes!"
The crowd responded in unison.
"Excellent!" The host nodded in satisfaction. "That brings us to the second rule: heavy-class Pokémon and certain high-impact moves are strictly prohibited during the tournament."
He began reading from the list:
"Rhydon, Nidoking, Nidoqueen, Golem…
Earthquake, Fissure, Rock Slide, Surf, Fire Blast, Thunder…"
Each Pokémon or move announced drew groans from the audience. With so many bans in place, many Trainers found their strongest Pokémon barred from entry. Meanwhile, the prohibition of high-powered moves introduced a huge degree of uncertainty—underdogs now had real chances to turn the tables.
The S.S. Anne carried roughly 1,000 people in total. After excluding crew members, fewer than nine hundred passengers remained—yet over a third of them had signed up to compete. That alone showed just how irresistible power-boosting Pokémon items were to Trainers.
Of course, some were also drawn by the mysterious Sinnoh-region Pokémon Egg promised to the champion.
The dining tables in the central hall were cleared away, and ten battle fields were set up. With 320 participants, anyone hoping to reach the finals would need to defeat 16 opponents in a row, without a single loss. The difficulty was self-evident.
Several waitstaff and sailors volunteered to serve as referees. Kael, being an externally hired security operative rather than official crew, enjoyed considerable freedom of movement. Participating in the tournament posed no issue—though out of courtesy, he still needed to inform Captain Hardwin.
...
"Are you entering too, Misty?"
Ash asked curiously as he noticed the fierce fighting spirit radiating from her—stronger even than his own.
Misty shot him a glare and said sharply,
"Obviously! Don't you know how big a boost the Mystic Water is for someone who wants to become a Water-type Pokémon Master?"
"I don't," Ash replied honestly, shaking his head.
"You—!" Misty ground her teeth. "Then why are you even entering the tournament?"
"Of course to challenge all these Trainers," Ash replied matter-of-factly. Then he grinned. "And if I win, even better—I'll get a Pokémon Egg from another region! Just thinking about it makes my blood boil!"
"Brock, you're not joining?" Misty asked, turning to him.
Brock nodded with a smile. "You two go ahead. My Onix is on the banned list, and relying only on Geodude would get me eliminated pretty quickly. Besides, Mystic Water doesn't really do anything for me."
"That's true."
...
The tournament officially began.
Kael stepped onto Arena No. 9 for his first match. His opponent sent out a Beedrill.
"Weavile—use Night Slash."
"Weaa—!"
Weavile let out a vicious snarl. Its burst of speed left the opponent utterly unable to react. Beedrill wasn't slow by any means, and Bug-types even had a natural advantage against Dark-type moves—but against Weavile's explosive acceleration, it barely perceived a black blur flashing before its eyes.
A sharp pain exploded through its wing.
The next instant, Beedrill slammed into the floor.
It hadn't lost consciousness—but its right wing had been severed by the Night Slash. With half its wings gone, Beedrill was effectively crippled. Unable to fly, unable to maintain balance, it could only buzz weakly against the floor.
"Beedrill!"
The Trainer rushed onto the field, scooping up the fallen Pokémon and gently stroking the damaged wing before sprinting toward the infirmary.
"Shouldn't you announce the result now?"
Kael said flatly, glancing at the still-dazed sailor acting as referee.
Amateur really did mean amateur.
"Oh—oh!" The sailor snapped out of it, raised the green flag, and shouted,
"The winner of this match is Kael of Viridian City!"
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
"How long did that even last…?"
"I couldn't tell—everything blurred for a second and Beedrill's wing was just gone."
"That black Pokémon that looks like Meowth was insanely fast. From start to finish, I don't think it even took two seconds."
"Two seconds? You're joking."
Kael left the arena under stunned gazes. Since his match ended so quickly, he was granted a full 30-minute rest period.
In truth, Weavile had already held back. If the Night Slash had struck Beedrill's body instead of its wing, it would have been an instant kill—no chance for emergency treatment at all.
Bug-type Pokémon were simply too fragile. With Weavile's offensive power, anywhere it struck was lethal.
Fortunately, a Pokémon's wings can regenerate. As high-energy lifeforms, Pokémon possessed astonishing vitality.