This chapter is dedicated to Brole, who came up with the idea for the Wartortle vs. Houndoom battle on Discord. :)
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"Hey! How about a mirror match?" the redhead suggested with a cocky smirk the moment she reached me.
I looked her up and down thoroughly. She practically radiated that perfect, fiery, passionate fighting spirit. A mirror match, huh... Fire-colored hair...
"No," I declined with an amused smile. "Let's do a regular battle for a hundred Pokédollars. You can see my whole team, while I have no idea what you're hiding. I can only guess... And who knows, maybe it'll end up being a mirror match in the end anyway."
She stared at me in silence for a moment, then slowly scanned my lineup. "How many badges do you have?"
"One. You?"
"Same. Okay, you're on," she nodded with a smirk. "Cash or Link?"
"Whichever you prefer," I shrugged indifferently.
"Cash it is, then," she agreed. "I'll head to the other side. On the referee's signal, I'll send out my Pokémon."
"On his signal, my Pokémon will step forward," I smirked at her.
I had a strong feeling this match was going to be pretty funny. I waited a moment for her to get far enough away, and immediately turned to my pack behind me.
"Wartortle, I choose you!" I announced to him with that classic anime smile. "Because I'm guessing that girl has a Houndoom..."
Before I could even finish the sentence, Wartortle, with a mischievous smirk, immediately turned toward my own Houndoom, as if to let him know he was about to take down his relative.
"Yes, yes..." I spoke up again, and when he turned his gaze back to me, I continued, "Listen to me, Wartortle, so you know exactly what to do."
"War!" he nodded determinedly, though that provocative smirk didn't leave his face, and I could clearly see how incredibly tempted he was to glance back at our hellhound again.
"As soon as you can, use Water Gun. If he closes in, unleash Bubble in a wide spread depending on the situation and his speed to slow him down, then immediately follow up with a sharp Water Gun. I'll leave the pressure intensity entirely up to you... The maximum charge time for the move is four seconds—adjust it based on how far away he is, got it?" After his firm nod, I moved on to the next point: "In case he uses long-range offensive moves, keep your stance and just make short, quick dodges, or counter if possible. His fire won't reach as far as your attacks, but we'll have to see whether he relies only on fire or if he has any dark-type moves as well."
"Wartortle!" my partner confirmed, clenching his claws into fists, which instantly reminded me of something.
"Your claws are extremely sharp. If he does manage to get close, remember to smoothly transition between retreating into your shell, dodging back, and launching an immediate counterattack... If you get the chance, slash at his legs. We've drilled this short-range mobility and footwork thoroughly."
I saw the redhead at the edge of the field talking to some guy in striped clothing. At first, I assumed he was just a random fan, but then he pulled a white flag out of his back pocket. They both nodded in agreement, and the guy walked to the center, right onto the sideline of our battlefield.
"Ready?" he looked to the left first, at the redhead, who nodded firmly, Poké Ball in hand.
"Ready?" he turned toward me. I nodded.
"Three, two, one, start!" he counted down, waving the flag toward the ground with a professional motion.
I didn't waste a single second. The instant he called "one," I gave Wartortle a signal to move.
And exactly what I expected happened. In a flash of light, a Houndoom appeared on the field across from us. At that exact second, his trainer stomped her foot angrily, and judging by the quick movement of her lips, it was clear she was cursing up a storm. She realized her plan for a mirror match of two hellhounds had failed.
My Wartortle stood resolutely in front of me, and while he was already a hundred percent mentally and physically prepared for action, the opposing trainer was only just beginning to bark out her first quick instructions in a panic.
"The battle has begun," I shrugged, an amused smirk on my face, and ordered, "Water Gun!"
Wartortle instantly puffed himself up deeply, and after two seconds, spat a powerful, concentrated stream of water from his mouth. It sliced through the air in a flash, heading straight for Houndoom. The black dog managed to dodge to the side—but that was purely because there was enough distance separating them at the start.
Houndoom immediately sprinted straight for Wartortle to close the distance as quickly as possible. His Ember definitely wouldn't be able to reach my turtle effectively from such a distance. Meanwhile, my Wartortle kept peppering him with quick, albeit weaker bursts of Water Gun, keeping him under constant pressure until the opponent was in close quarters.
Wartortle braced himself firmly in a boxing stance, took a deep breath, and, exactly as instructed, unleashed a wide, dense Bubble attack.
"FIRE FANG!" the redhead's shout echoed across the entire field. Her voice was so piercing that the command reached me crystal clear despite the distance.
At that exact moment, Houndoom conjured a wild fire technique directly in his fangs. It was a powerful attack, but its execution was far from perfect—the flames around his snout flickered uncontrollably, and some of the fiery energy dispersed into the surroundings during his run instead of staying concentrated in the attack.
The hellhound charged forward, desperately breaking through the bubbles in his path, popping each one with his burning Fire Fang.
"Water Gun, the moment he is right in front of you," I ordered with absolute calm.
And that was exactly what happened. The moment Houndoom popped the last bubble with the final strike of his fiery attack and ended up right in front of Wartortle, my turtle reacted instantly. He released a direct, perfectly concentrated stream of water from his mouth, striking his opponent square in the face under immense pressure.
For the first fractions of a second, the flame in Houndoom's fangs desperately clung on. Upon contact with the water, it hissed and crackled wildly, as if still trying to resist. But against the relentless onslaught of water, it stood no chance—after a brief moment, the fire technique vanished completely.
The remaining stream of water hit Houndoom mercilessly, throwing him back several meters. His painful whimpering instantly echoed through the area.
"Again," I commanded coldly.
Wartortle didn't hesitate for a second. Before the shaken Houndoom could even stand up on his trembling legs, another concentrated stream of water hit him directly.
"Again," I repeated without a shred of mercy.
My turtle took another deep breath, preparing the next attack. This time, he charged the move a bit longer. Wartortle knew exactly that in this state, Houndoom wouldn't be able to dodge.
But before the devastating Water Gun could strike the trembling Houndoom, his trainer reacted. A red beam cut through the air, pulling him back into his Poké Ball at the last second.
"The winner is the trainer on the right!" the referee declared.
The boy professionally rolled up the white flag, tucked it back into his back pocket, and gave me an appreciative nod. He then cast a brief glance at the defeated trainer and quietly walked back to his spot with the others.
Wartortle turned to me with an excited smile, but a moment later, it vanished from his face in a flash. I thought I saw a bulging, throbbing vein appear on his forehead. With a growing sense of dread, I slowly turned around.
My Houndoom was currently sniffing a Bulbasaur curiously while it trembled at the feet of its terrified trainer. To make matters worse, my Haunter had joined in and was gleefully enjoying their obvious fear.
"Fuck!" I swore quietly under my breath.
Fortunately, the redhead was heading toward me almost at a jog, so she arrived at the same time as my annoyed Wartortle.
"Did you know I had a Houndoom?" she asked me flat out, without a hint of a smile.
"I figured..." I shrugged indifferently. "You just look kinda fiery. And even if you didn't have one, I wouldn't have cared. I'm mainly here to get experience for my team."
She pulled a hundred-dollar bill from her pocket and handed it to me. "I was hoping you'd send out your own Houndoom."
"Thanks," I replied matter-of-factly, slipping the cash straight into my pocket. Out of the corner of my eye, I checked the situation behind me again—fortunately, my dog didn't look like he planned to devour the Bulbasaur right then and there, so I still had a moment. "Even if I had sent out Houndoom, that money would still be mine."
"Aren't you a little too confident?" she frowned, sounding offended. "We can have a rematch later. Houndoom versus Houndoom. For double."
"Sure... I can always use some extra cash," I nodded immediately with an amused smile.
She stared searchingly straight into my eyes, as if trying to read me, and then sighed in resignation. "You really are way too cocky... Fine, why do you think I'd lose? Size isn't everything."
"Because, based on how it went, it looked like the only thing you've actually drilled with your Houndoom is Fire Fang. It was strong, but it clearly wasted too much energy. Plus, your dog ran way too wildly—completely straight forward and without any tactics. So, in close combat, my Houndoom would have had not only a massive size and strength advantage over yours, but a speed advantage too. Your Pokémon's movement and footwork are seriously lagging." I paused for a moment, thinking, and added, "It probably worked for you in most of your previous battles... Just one strong fire move against beginner trainers."
"Pffft..." she scoffed, but a smile finally appeared on her face anyway. "I trained Ember and Leer with him too, but... against your Wartortle, it would have been a lost cause anyway."
"True, but you severely neglected movement, and for a Pokémon that isn't very durable, that's absolutely critical."
"Hmmmm..." she nodded thoughtfully. "I'm Becca. And you?" She extended her hand to me.
"Patrik from Pallet Town," I introduced myself and accepted her grip.
"Cinnabar Island," she added with a proud smile.
"Alright, Becca. Good meeting you... Thanks for the cash, see you around," I said in a quick farewell and immediately headed off to tame the rest of my crew. Machoke and an annoyed Wartortle walked right behind me like my own personal, muscular security detail. All the while, Wartortle didn't look thrilled in the slightest.
He had completely forgotten about the battle he'd just won, even though the outcome had been obvious from the very start. Becca's Houndoom hadn't stood a chance. At our current level, type advantage was still extremely critical. Since we'd invested relatively little time in training Pokémon so far, none of them could be fully versatile or prepared for every unexpected situation and opponent.
Wartortle suddenly sped up, overtaking me, and barked reproachfully, almost angrily, at my Houndoom: "War Wartortle!!!"
Houndoom completely ignored him, at least on the surface, but I was one hundred percent sure that the subsequent swipe of his tail right across Wartortle's forehead was entirely intentional.
"War WAAAAARTORTLE!" That was clearly the final straw for the turtle. He puffed himself up completely and instantly tensed into a battle stance, ready for a fight.
"Enough!" I commanded sharply.
At first, it looked like Wartortle wouldn't obey me in his fit of rage, but after a split second, he finally let out the excess air and let out an offended grumble: "War!"
"Enough, Houndoom! Stop smacking him with that tail!" I ordered the hellhound next, to which he only turned his gaze away innocently. Finally, I glared at my ghost: "Haunter, what are you doing here?"
Only then did I properly fix my gaze on the unknown trainer in the pink cap. She was staring intently at the ground, looking as if she were dying of fright. I could understand why—a normal person would probably have a heart attack with a Haunter that close. Her Bulbasaur was visibly trembling at her feet, but unlike her, he was ready to protect his trainer at a moment's notice. Green vines were already extended from his back, and it looked like he might start wildly whipping them around at any second.
"Haunt Haunt!" Haunter instantly grinned widely and began to gesture wildly yet urgently in the air with his levitating hands. "Haunter Haunty Ha!" he concluded the whole performance and pointed a finger at me triumphantly, as if he had just explained the greatest mystery of the universe.
I immediately looked at the girl again. Since she was still looking down at the ground, I couldn't see her face, but thick, curly blonde hair spilled out from under the brim of her cap. It looked like she was trying to hide it on purpose, but a few stray strands still poked out.
Her overall build was incredibly familiar... except for the missing part of her arm. My brain was working at full speed, but I couldn't dig up any blonde trainer with a Bulbasaur in my memory. Why, then, was Haunter asserting with such certainty that she was our friend?
Only one person came to mind, and she was from Pallet Town itself. But where the hell did she get a Bulbasaur?
"Lilly?" I asked hesitantly.
The girl froze instantly. After a few seconds, however, she determinedly raised her head and looked me straight in the eyes.
It really was her. Though she definitely didn't look as perfect as before. Not only was she missing part of her arm, but she also looked incredibly exhausted. Dark circles under her eyes, a tired and pale complexion... And her signature provocative smile was completely gone.
"It's good to see you," I added with a genuine smile.
"Really?" she replied dryly in a quiet voice, as if she couldn't quite believe it herself.
"Really," I nodded instantly, without the slightest hesitation.
Her blue eyes widened slightly, and surprise flashed in her gaze for a moment. I couldn't blame her. The last time we had seen each other, I'd insulted her pretty badly—I had acted like a simple, stupid teenager, and we were definitely not friends back then. This time, however, thanks to the merge, I had enough knowledge and life experience not to act like an idiot.
"How about we grab a coffee or tea somewhere?" I suggested before she could say anything. "My treat," I added quickly.
Practically speaking, she didn't look to be in the best shape. Her clothes were a bit tattered, though they were clean. I was a hundred percent sure she hadn't had much luck on her journey so far.
For a brief moment, it looked like she might burst into tears right in front of me, but then she swallowed hard and gave a faint nod. "We can."
***
Author's note:
Becca's Houndoom got absolutely bullied by our Wartortle... who immediately got pissed off because our own Houndoom was too busy paying attention to a Bulbasaur instead of watching the match... Tough life in this team.
And finally, Lilly... what happened to her, and where the fuck did she get a Bulbasaur?! :D
Want to read ahead? The next chapter is already out for free on my official website! Grab the direct link on our Discord community: tgdTNZYVKt
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