Team Cipher was officially sinking into the quagmire of Pyrite Town.
The moment Ryuka gave the order to move, a massive surge of Trainers—equipped with high-end gear and powerful Pokémon—erupted from the various factions across town. They appeared just as the major gangs were crumbling, striking out at both the local thugs and the Cipher invaders simultaneously.
Initially, Team Cipher hadn't spared these newcomers a second thought. But they soon realized that while this group lacked the sheer numbers of the local "small fry," they were many times more difficult to handle.
Then, something even more shocking occurred for the Cipher commanders.
"What did you say? A Trainer in a red cape using Gyarados, Salamence, and Dragonite?" the commander barked, staring in disbelief at the Cipher grunt before him.
The grunt's face was a mask of agony as he nodded frantically. "Yes! These guys appeared out of nowhere! They're led by an old man in a white hat. Look!"
The grunt handed over a photo he had managed to snap.
"Dragon Tamers... and a Hoenn Elite Four member..."
The commander's face turned ashen. His uneducated grunts might not recognize these figures, but he certainly did. The Orre Region wasn't completely cut off from world news. What baffled him was why a Hoenn Elite Four member and a group of legendary Dragon Tamers would show up in this desolate corner of the world. What could Pyrite Town possibly have that interested them?
"Boss! It's bad! It's really bad!"
Another battered Cipher grunt came sprinting over. "The Champion! The Champion is here!"
"The Champion!?"
The commander's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. He lunged forward and grabbed the man by his collar. "Which Champion? Where the hell did a Champion come from!?"
"It's the Hoenn Champion! Steven Stone!" The grunt pointed toward the horizon at a flickering silver streak.
The "meteor" plummeted from the sky and surged back up repeatedly. Each impact triggered a thunderous, earthquake-like roar, sending plumes of dust billowing dozens of meters into the air.
The commander fell into a complete panic. With trembling hands, he pulled out his communication device, desperate to report this to Es Gan back in Phenac City.
However, before he could tune into a secret, interference-proof channel, a hand suddenly clamped over his mouth. An instant later, a wave of paralysis surged through his body.
"We can't have you ruining the fun at a time like this."
A voice, both familiar and strange, whispered in his ear. Before the world faded into darkness, the commander caught a glimpse of his panicked subordinates and one twisted, leering face.
It's you!
He suddenly remembered—this was the only man who had returned alive after being sent to Pyrite Town to deliver the ultimatum.
With the commander down, the surrounding Cipher members descended into chaos.
"Who are you!?"
"Grab him! He took out the boss!"
"Attack!"
Surrounded by snarling Shadow Pokémon and angry Cipher grunts, Frobo didn't look the least bit nervous. He casually raised a hand and popped open a Poké Ball.
Flash!
White light materialized into a blue, balloon-like Pokémon with three fluffy cotton puffs—one on its head and one on each arm. It let out a crisp cry.
"Jump~!"
"Cotton Spore!"
Following Frobo's command, the Jumpluff dove straight into the incoming attacks, intentionally detonating its three cotton puffs.
Boom!
An explosion of fluff erupted, colliding with the dark aura released by the Shadow Pokémon and rapidly filling every square inch of the surrounding space!
"What is this stuff!?"
"Pah! Get it off me!"
The Cipher members tried to fight their way out, only to find that the fluff had sprouted tough, brownish-black tendrils that bound them like living vines. By the time they cleared the spores, Frobo had vanished—taking their commander with him.
The grunts looked at each other, completely losing their bearings.
"Find a way to contact Lord Es Gan!"
"Turn off the signal jammers! Hurry, tell Lord Es Gan!"
"Someone tell me how to use this machine!"
Without their leader, the Cipher grunts had become nothing more than headless flies.
-----
Phenac City
Unlike Pyrite Town, which had been embroiled in chaos for half a month, Phenac City was the picture of tranquility. It was even decorated with lanterns and streamers, as if in celebration.
From the chatter of the citizens, it was easy to gather why: the Orre League was about to be established. Mayor Es Gan was set to become the first League President, officially opening Orre's borders and inviting foreign Trainers to establish Gyms.
For the citizens of Phenac, this was spectacular news. They had long envied the Gyms, League Conferences, and Champion Tournaments of other regions. More importantly, a League meant the development of more cities, rather than the population being crammed into a handful of towns.
But while the citizens were ecstatic, Mayor Es Gan was far from happy.
On one hand, the League certification had been pending for nearly six months. He felt the League Inspectors were simply toying with him; he had done everything required and paid every bribe, yet they were still stalling.
On the other hand, there was the situation in Pyrite Town.
Technically, even with the jammers active, they should have been able to communicate via a secret channel established by Rotom. Yet, he currently had zero intel on what was happening on the ground. Coupled with Team Snagem's inexplicable interference, Es Gan had a very bad feeling.
That premonition was quickly confirmed.
"Boss! The Champion... the Champion is here! We can't hold them back!"
Explosions and heavy breathing echoed through the line. Es Gan gripped his phone, falling into a sudden, heavy silence.
"What... which Champion are you talking about?" he asked, his brow furrowing.
Before the grunt could answer, a massive blast shook the other end, and a different voice took over the call.
"Hello there."
The youthful tone of the male voice made Es Gan shudder. "This is Pyrite Town calling."
"Who are you?" Es Gan's face darkened. "...Do you have any idea the price you'll pay for doing this?"
"Oh?" The young man on the other end sounded genuinely curious. "The price? Hmm... why don't you tell me that in person? That is, if you ever get the chance, old man Es Gan."
Click.
The line went dead.
Es Gan clutched the phone for a second before his rage boiled over, and he slammed the device onto the floor.
"I don't care who you are, you're a dead man!"
He fumed and reached for the landline on his desk, intending to summon his inner circle, only to find he couldn't get a dial tone. The strange phenomenon cooled his anger slightly, replaced by a growing dread.
Something was wrong.
"Is someone there!?" he shouted, but there was no response.
Leaning on his cane, Es Gan stood up and hurried out of his office. He pushed open the doors to find the long corridor completely empty. It felt as if he were the only person left in the entire world.
He wandered through the mayor mansion, calling out as he went, but maids, valets, and Cipher guards were nowhere to be found. His cell signal was gone, and even his Rotom Smart Butler had vanished.
The only sign of life came from the adjacent exhibition hall—the very place intended for the global announcement of the Orre League. It was incredibly noisy inside, sounding like a hall filled with people clinking glasses and chatting.
Thinking he had found a lifeline, Es Gan hurried to the hall and threw open the doors, only to find a single person inside.
The man stood on the presiding stage, looking down at him with cold indifference.
"Dinis... is this your doing!?" Es Gan hissed through gritted teeth.
Dinis didn't answer immediately. He slowly stood up, looking like a high judge delivering a death sentence. He spoke with a clear, resonant voice:
"Es Gan, your era... is over!"
In an instant, it felt as though a thousand bells were tolling in Es Gan's ears. His head spun, and his face flushed a deep crimson as he shook with pure, unadulterated fury. The sound of his teeth grinding together echoed in the empty hall.