Pokémon: Raising Abandoned Pokémon into Legends

Chapter 264: Winning Fair and Square

The Sinnoh executives were momentarily speechless. "It’s not that our pride is gone—it’s that if we want to restore our honor, this is the only way. That Champion from Kanto... he’s really strong. We don’t think you stand a chance against him," one of them finally said, sounding almost wronged.

"Nonsense! I, the Psychic-type Elite Four, have never won a single battle in my life through a fixed match. You’ll see—I’ll prove the strength of my Psychic-type Pokémon. And tell that Kanto Champion that I, Lucian, will defeat him fair and square!"

With that resolute declaration, Lucian turned and walked away. The executives exchanged glances and let out another deep sigh. "What a disaster."

"Can’t we have at least one Elite Four member who isn’t so stubborn?"

"Contact Bertha and Aaron too—tell them to watch tomorrow’s exhibition match closely and not to be as headstrong."

"I have a feeling that even after tomorrow’s match, our people still won’t accept reality. They’ll think we’re continuing to cover up for the Kanto Champion."

"What a disaster."

The next day—the second day of the Lily of the Valley Conference—a second exhibition match, forced by the public’s dissatisfaction on the first day, was about to begin.

"Trust me—I really wasn’t throwing the match yesterday. And whatever you do, don’t be stubborn. If they offer to go easy on you, just take it. Don’t let pride get in the way and insist they go all out—you’ll regret it," Flint said, finding Lucian before the match. The Sinnoh executives had asked him to talk Lucian down—to keep him from making the same mistake.

"Flint, that’s you. I’m not as useless as you," Lucian scoffed. "Let me tell you—I’ve fought a League Champion before. Last year, I left Sinnoh for a while and went to Unova, where I met Champion Alder. We battled. I lost, yes—but I took down three of his Pokémon. So, a League Champion is a League Champion. This Rio is young—even if he’s strong, he can’t be that much stronger than Alder. Maybe even weaker. If I went along with a fixed match just because of what you all say, even winning would feel like shame."

He grew more passionate: "I’ve always walked the path of honor. If I win, I win fair and square. If I lose, I lose fair and square. Besides—unlike you, I’m going to win."

With that, Lucian turned and walked away, his flowing purple hair billowing behind him. Flint watched his confident back, and all he could see was his own former self—just as arrogant, just as full of himself.

And now? Flint sighed helplessly. "Lucian—I guarantee you’ll regret this."

He turned and left, ready to have the executives prepare a public apology session for Lucian, just like the one they’d arranged for him. Everyone who is arrogant will pay the price for their arrogance—just like he had yesterday. He was still being dragged through the mud by the public, cursed with the most vicious words. But soon, he wouldn’t be alone in that misery.

"So you’re going to throw the match? Intentionally lose to our Psychic-type Elite Four?" In the waiting area on the other side, Cynthia was also talking with Rio. When she heard he planned to throw the match to save face for Sinnoh, her expression was complicated.

She wanted to say that there should be no such thing as a fixed match—every battle should be fought fair and square. But then she thought about the current situation. Because Rio had won too easily yesterday, the Sinnoh public thought it was rigged. They were accusing the Sinnoh League executives of being Kanto’s dogs, and no amount of explanation would convince them. Now, for the sake of inter-regional harmony, it seemed Rio had no choice but to throw the match.

"Yeah—that’s how it has to be," Rio shrugged. The fault lies in being too strong. Even when I win fairly, it gets mistaken for a fixed match.

"Sigh—do what you have to do," Cynthia sighed. She didn’t understand the state of Sinnoh right now, and she didn’t understand Rio either. In short—what kind of world was this?

A few minutes later, Rio stepped onto the battlefield amid a silent stadium. His opponent, the scholarly-looking Psychic-type Elite Four Lucian, took the stage to thunderous applause. Rio wasn’t bothered. As a League Champion, aside from strength, what else did he need? Poise, of course. If he got angry over something so trivial, he’d be petty.

"Come out, Aerodactyl." With a flash of light, Aerodactyl appeared. Rio planned to use it to soothe the wounded pride of the Sinnoh public.

But—

"I don’t need you to hold back in this match. Show me your full strength," Lucian said confidently. "Send out your Charizard—let’s have a fair fight."

Uh oh... Rio, who had been ready to throw the match, froze. What’s this? Did the Sinnoh executives find another stubborn fool?

He looked up toward the executives’ section. This isn’t the script we agreed on.

Lucian’s voice came again: "I’m different from Flint. What he couldn’t do—I can."

In the contestants’ area below, Flint watched the big screen and laughed bitterly. Right, right—you’re amazing, so impressive. I’m trash, I’m useless. Let’s see how you prove yourself different in a few minutes.

With a flash of light, Lucian sent out his first Pokémon—a Level 67 Bronzong.

"Hurry—send out your Charizard! If you underestimate me, you’ll regret it," Lucian urged.

Rio stared at him for a few seconds, then sighed and recalled Aerodactyl. "Sorry, Aerodactyl—you won’t be needed for today’s battle."

He reached for Charizard’s Poké Ball—but just as he was about to toss it, a voice echoed in his mind. It was Mewtwo.

"Rio—let me fight. I’ve been cooped up in the ball for too long. I’m itching to stretch my claws."

Hearing Mewtwo make a request was rare. Rio paused, then put Charizard’s ball away. A moment later, Mewtwo emerged from the Master Ball. Its humanoid form immediately drew gasps and murmurs from the crowd and the announcer.

(Backstage, Flint was disappointed: If Lucian wanted to get slapped in the face by Charizard, why not just let him? Why send out some Pokémon no one’s ever seen?)

"What kind of Pokémon is that?" Lucian was equally confused. He was about to demand why Rio wouldn’t send out Charizard—when a voice echoed in his mind.

"I am called Mewtwo."

The voice rang not just in Lucian’s mind, but in the minds of every spectator in the stadium. Then, Mewtwo raised its right hand—and a pitch-black energy sphere materialized in its palm.

A sudden sense of danger washed over Lucian. He quickly commanded: "Bronzong—Heavy Slam!"