Pokémon: Raising Abandoned Pokémon into Legends

Chapter 65: Trying to Cut in Line?

Rio stepped off the ship in Vermilion City, Kanto.

Instead of rushing to Cerulean City to challenge the Gym, he found a noodle shop to enjoy some local food.

"Who is this Goh guy? The higher-ups are making such a fuss looking for him—I’ve been running around nonstop for two days."

"Who knows? I heard it’s Clair, the Dragon-type Gym Leader from Johto, who came all the way here to find him."

"Why is she looking for him? I saw her at the League office today—she had a sour face, like everyone owed her money."

"No need to guess—it’s obviously a broken heart. Women are like that. They don’t remember the good times, only the bad. The ones who hurt them the most are the ones they remember clearest."

Rio’s eyes widened as he overheard the conversation at the next table.

Goh? Clair, the Dragon-type Gym Leader from Johto? A broken heart?

He’d only casually thrown out that name to Lance—had it really caused such a huge chain reaction? Had Clair actually become Goh’s supposed "love interest"?

He quickly finished his noodles, grabbed the takeout he’d ordered for Munchlax, and left the shop.

His intuition told him Vermilion City wasn’t safe to stay in. What if Clair had come with a sketch and discovered that "Goh" was him? What if they fought, and she was so impressed by his handsome face and brilliant commanding skills that she transferred her affections from her cousin to him—just like that Little Dragon Maiden from the stories?

After all, she was a Dragon-type specialist, practically a dragon maiden herself. And Lance was a cousin, just like that other petty cousin in the legend—small-minded and vengeful, sending his capable cousin to seek revenge within days of their battle.

As for Rio himself, he was just like that other protagonist—charming and popular with the ladies. Their situation perfectly mirrored that classic love triangle. The only thing missing was that Rio didn’t have a legendary father known as Emperor of the Dali Kingdom.

The next morning.

Rio flew to Cerulean City on Charizard, landing at the Gym entrance to the envious stares of other trainers.

"You worked hard, Charizard—rest well in your Poké Ball." Rio patted Charizard’s head and recalled it.

Just as he did, a Gym staff member called out at the entrance: "Line up! All challengers today, form a line here!"

Rio was fortunate—he wasn’t far from the staff member and ended up third in line.

But soon, commotion broke out behind him. He turned to see a burly man trying to cut in front of a scrawny young trainer.

"Wartortle~" The young trainer had a Level 22 Wartortle, which glared angrily at the burly man for trying to jump the queue.

With a flash of light, the burly man released a Level 35 Machoke.

"Mach~" Machoke stood expressionless, looking down at Wartortle while flexing all four of its arms, showing off its muscles.

Wartortle cowered in fear. After a moment, the scrawny young trainer was shoved to the back, and the burly man successfully cut in line.

Rio shook his head and continued waiting.

He didn’t like what he saw, but it wasn’t his place being cut. And no one else in line seemed to care—they were all just watching the show. Clearly, if it were his turn, he’d suffer the same fate without the strength to defend himself. That was just how this world worked—he couldn’t change it, so it was better to stay out of it.

Besides, what if he stepped in to help, only to find his own spot had been stolen in the meantime? He’d be furious and have to argue with someone else. Better to avoid unnecessary trouble unless it came knocking.

A few minutes later—

Someone tapped his shoulder.

He turned.

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.

Trouble had come knocking. The same burly man, with his Machoke, was now trying to cut in front of him, glaring menacingly.

Damn it—do I really look that easy to push around?

On the other side, the burly man sized Rio up: clean-cut, tall and lean—looked like a pushover. No Pokémon standing beside him, either—probably didn’t have any strong ones. Perfect target.

"You—move to the back. My big brother needs this spot," the man said with a sneer.

"Mach~" Machoke flexed behind him, puffing out its chest.

"What, you don’t want to?" The man frowned, seeing the young trainer’s furrowed brow.

"Mach~" Machoke stepped forward, mirroring its trainer’s stern expression.

With a flash of light, Rio released Primeape.

SMACK! He gave Primeape a firm slap on the head and pointed at Machoke, shouting: "Primeape—he was mean to me!"

The burly man burst out laughing. What, are you crying because you got scared by my handsome face? Gonna tattle to your Pokémon?

He exchanged an amused glance with his Machoke, signaling it to go easy on the poor Primeape.

But the moment he turned away—

Whoosh— His Machoke went flying past him like a rocket.

(⊙_⊙)

Then he saw Primeape let out a fierce cry—Pu-cha~—and chase after the airborne Machoke. It grabbed the Machoke’s ankle mid-flight.

Pu-cha~

Pu-cha~

Pu-cha~

Like a hammer striking a mole, Primeape slammed the Machoke into the ground with each cry, not giving it a chance to fight back.

Moments later, Machoke lay on the ground like a heap of limp meat.

Rio smiled politely. "So, big guy—still want me to move to the back?"

The burly man turned back slowly, his face frozen in horror.

(⊙﹏⊙)