Chapter 32: Torture Game

  The frozen cave remained in an almost sepulchral silence after Vera disappeared along with Aspen and Kara, thanks to the teleportation of her Abra, Sage. A cold mist settled in the air, and the icebergs glowed with bluish light. The traces of the intense battle against Lapras were still there: cracked ice, fallen rock fragments, and a murky puddle where someone had stepped, leaving behind a trail of scattered footprints.

  On the other side of the cavern, Ethan and his group regrouped. His Munchlax yawned, visibly exhausted, while Antonio, Cera, and Vasco exchanged frustrated glances. The trio muttered among themselves, not daring to raise their voices too much. Behind them, Neva, Rayna, and Faviola could be heard whispering with their arms crossed, occasionally glancing at Ethan.

  —No… —muttered Antonio, a short young man with lime-green hair, a Scyther, and his jaw clenched—. I can’t stand it. Are we seriously just going to stand here looking like fools? “We’re not worthy of his group,” he says! Well, then they can go to hell…

  —Yeah —muttered Cera, a tall girl with long, sky-blue hair, her Pidgeotto perched beside her, an irritated frown on her face—. They think they’re so special because they have Psychic and Fighting abilities. But we have our own strengths too. And yet, Ethan insists that ‘we need them.’ Do we? Or is it him that needs us? Because in the end, we can defeat Class A on our own.

  Vasco, a tall and muscular young man with brown hair who trained an Onix, shrugged.

  —Honestly, I don’t really care. But that Vera and Kara… they’re terrifyingly strong. —A hint of tension flickered in his eyes—. And don’t underestimate that Aspen kid either. You saw it yourselves—he may not have the same power or battle prowess, but he’s unleashing his Poison-type energy without even realizing it. That could make him dangerous. Especially if he learns how to control it.

  At that moment, Ethan cast them an imperious glance that immediately silenced them. His imposing silhouette stood out against the dim cave light, and he still held the Poké Ball containing the Ice-affinity Squirtle he had just captured.

  —Relax —said Ethan, his voice firm—. The fact that they refused to join our group doesn’t mean they can’t serve our plan.

  They stared at him with incredulous expressions. Antonio looked like he wanted to argue, but Ethan raised a hand, imposing his authority.

  —Kara and Vera have immense potential, enough to become clan successors… maybe more —he continued—. And it’s not just their battle strength… There’s something else that interests me. Abilities that could be crucial against…

  He paused for a moment, frowning.

  —…Against Varel, the Number One of Class A, and his team… and the rest of Class A. You all know how terrifying he is, with his dragons. Sooner or later, we’ll need every advantage possible to defeat him.

  A murmur of approval—or at least repressed curiosity—spread through the group. The name of Varel evoked unease, as he was known as the strongest student in Kanto Academy, the successor of Lance in Dragon-type training.

  —And what about Aspen? —asked Cera, raising an eyebrow—. Do we really need that weakling? He gets exhausted after just two battles.

  —Yeah —Antonio agreed—. He’s just dead weight.

  —Don’t underestimate him. —Ethan smirked, a cunning gleam in his eyes—. That Poison energy of his—he can spread the confusion of an attack across an entire cavern without even noticing. Imagine if he learns to control it—he could become a great support unit.

  He narrowed his eyes.

  —Besides, I know he’s the easiest to manipulate. He wants something only I can give him. And I have a secret I can blackmail him with.

  Vasco tilted his head slightly, perhaps considering whether Ethan might be right.

  —As long as we have the Squirtle, we’ll keep moving forward. —Ethan tucked the Poké Ball into his belt and turned toward the frozen exit—. I’ll figure out a way to make them cooperate with my plan… whether they like it or not.

  His expression darkened, his breath visible in the frigid air, giving him an ominous aura.

  —It’s a shame—if they had joined my group, I would have considered giving them a better place in the plan. Now, they’ll just be sacrificial pawns.

  He pulled his jacket tighter, casting one last look at the battlefield, as if reliving the fight with Lapras.

  —Let’s go. We’ve wasted enough time here.

  His team followed, their footsteps echoing through the cave.

  And just before disappearing into the darkness, Ethan glanced over his shoulder… lips tightening into a smirk that promised nothing good.

  Far Away, in a Colder Region…

  Vera stood among towering ice formations, as tall as buildings. Each breath she exhaled turned into frosty mist, and the dim sunlight refracted off the crystalline tips, painting the landscape in icy blue hues.

  She held a Poké Ball, gazing at it with quiet fondness. She carefully placed it into a special compartment in her black coat and exhaled deeply, watching her breath turn into white vapor.

  Without saying a word, she rested a hand on Sage’s shoulder, her floating Abra. The Pokémon tilted its head slightly, aware of its trainer’s exhaustion, and in an instant, they teleported in a flash of soft pink light.

  Vera reappeared on the beach, where she had left Kara and Aspen, expecting them to have calmed down after all the tension.

  But the moment her feet touched the damp sand, the first thing she saw made her freeze in place.

  A vein pulsed in her forehead.

  —…

  (Aspen’s Perspective)

  I don’t think I’ve ever felt so humiliated.

  Not even the time I fought Niko.

  This… this was worse.

  A “game of tag,” Kara called it. A “fun way to relax and relieve stress” after everything we’d been through, she claimed, flashing a wild grin.

  But what’s fun about being FORCED into exhaustion by an irrationally strong girl and her Fighting-type Pokémon?

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  —Asp, stop whining and run! —Kara shouted, throwing me an intimidating glare.

  We had been playing this ridiculous “training session” on the beach for at least twenty minutes.

  The sky was mostly clear, and the sea breeze brushed against my sweat-covered face.

  But there was nothing relaxing about it.

  I felt like a cornered Rattata, being toyed with by a merciless predator.

  The rules were simple:

  1.Each of us used two Pokémon.

  2.The goal: Capture the others in a “chase game.”

  Sounds harmless, right?

  Wrong.

  Because Kara doesn’t understand the concept of ‘gentle.’

  And neither do her Pokémon.

  Her Machop (“Karate”) and Mankey (“Box”) seemed to thrive on destruction.

  Meanwhile, my Zubat (“Noizy”) and Alolan Grimer (“Dozy”) were just as confused as I was.

  And the worst part?

  I had become the primary target.

  At first, Kara boasted about her speed—and she wasn’t lying.

  She moved so fast that I barely saw a blur before she dashed toward Dozy and tapped him on his slimy back.

  Dozy’s gelatinous body wobbled like Jell-O, bouncing up and down from the sheer force.

  But instead of looking annoyed, my Alolan Grimer looked… thrilled.

  Of course.

  He loves any kind of physical contact, even if it involves getting smacked around by a superhuman martial artist.

  But then, Dozy decided to get revenge.

  Not on Kara.

  Not on Machop or Mankey.

  No.

  On me.

  —TRAITOR! YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO TAG ME! —I yelled, dodging frantically across the sand.

  But Dozy—as slow as he usually is—somehow cut off my escape route at an impossible angle, and I tripped over my own feet.

  A slimy hand latched onto my ankle, and Dozy let out a gurgling chuckle.

  —Rule number one! —Kara’s voice boomed from a distance, her laughter echoing along the shore—. You can’t tag the one who tagged you!

  —BUT—!

  I tried to protest.

  But that rule…

  That damn rule…

  It trapped me in a dead end.

  Noizy wasn’t helping either.

  My Zubat flitted overhead, effortlessly dodging every attempt I made to tag her.

  And Karate and Box?

  Way too fast.

  Which meant…

  I COULDN’T TAG ANYONE.

  The only one slow enough for me to catch was the same backstabbing pile of goo that tagged me first.

  And he was off-limits.

  I was completely stuck.

  And Kara?

  She was having the time of her life.

  She ran circles around me, faking stumbles or playfully tripping me up.

  Sometimes, she perched on a rock, flashing me a wicked grin, like a wild Persian toying with its prey—only to vanish the moment I got close.

  This went on for what felt like an eternity.

  By the time we hit the thirty-minute mark, my legs were burning, my lungs were on fire, and my shirt was drenched in sweat.

  Every time I tried to tag ANYONE, I failed.

  Every time I got close, Kara taunted me.

  —Asp, you’re slower than a Slowpoke! —she cackled from the top of a sand dune—. At this rate, you wouldn’t even catch a Caterpie!

  —Shut… up… —I wheezed, hands on my knees, struggling to breathe.

  A few feet away, Dozy was also failing miserably to tag Karate, his sluggish movements no match for the Machop’s reflexes.

  At least I wasn’t the only one embarrassing myself.

  But the worst part?

  Kara’s expression.

  The sheer amusement in her ice-blue eyes.

  She was way too entertained by my suffering.

  And that’s when I remembered her warning.

  —Whoever gives up… gets a punishment.

  The second those words echoed in my head, I felt real fear.

  Because I had no idea what “punishment” meant in Kara’s mind.

  But I did know one thing:

  She was terrifyingly strong.

  And I did not want to find out.

  So, despite the fact that every muscle in my body was screaming for mercy, I kept running.

  I kept trying.

  I kept failing.

  And just when I was about to collapse, something miraculous happened.

  Aquí tienes la versión final corregida, ambientada en el mundo Pokémon, con Wingull y otras referencias ajustadas. Además, el texto está en inglés tal como pediste:

  Capítulo Mejorado (Final en inglés con temática Pokémon):

  A flash of pink light appeared suddenly at the edge of the beach.

  Vera.

  I’d never been so relieved to see her. Because finally… I saw my ticket out of this cruel game.

  “VERA!” I shouted, gathering every last bit of energy left in my battered body.

  She had just materialized onto the wet sand, looking around with mild confusion.

  Perfect.

  I sprinted towards her desperately, like a lost Growlithe running to its trainer after weeks in the wild.

  And before she could process what was happening—

  I wrapped my arms around her waist in a frantic hug.

  “YOU’RE IT! I TAGGED YOU!” I yelled triumphantly.

  For one glorious second, victory surged through me.

  For one beautiful moment, I tasted freedom.

  Then… reality slapped me like a Gyarados’ tail.

  Something felt off.

  Vera wasn’t standing. She was floating.

  I had completely forgotten she could levitate herself with psychic power.

  The instant my arms tightened around her, I felt a cold chill run down my spine. When I looked up, my heart stopped:

  Vera’s deep magenta eyes glowed ominously. Her expression was pure death.

  I didn’t dare breathe.

  A vein throbbed dangerously on her forehead as her gaze narrowed, drilling directly into my soul.

  I was doomed.

  In the blink of an eye, my adrenaline vanished, replaced by pure dread. Vera’s psychic grip surrounded me instantly.

  “No, wait, I—!” I stammered helplessly, but it was too late.

  I was airborne.

  Vera flicked her wrist, effortlessly launching me toward the ocean.

  “ARCEUS HELP MEEEEEE—!” I shrieked, flailing wildly before hitting the freezing water face-first.

  I spun helplessly beneath the waves, choking on salty seawater, desperately trying to resurface as the ocean dragged me around like a rag doll. My ears barely caught Kara’s hysterical laughter from the shore.

  Of course. Of course she’d find this hilarious.

  Vera remained completely silent, but her cold, merciless expression made it clear: This was punishment.

  The last thing I heard before blacking out from sheer panic and exhaustion was Kara’s laughter and the cold whisper of Vera’s psychic energy tightening around me.

  (Vera’s Perspective)

  Aspen hugged me.

  Aspen actually hugged me.

  It took exactly one second to process this unforgivable act. And half a second longer for my Psychic powers to activate instinctively.

  He was floating. Actually, we both were. Just a few inches off the sand.

  His expression shifted comically from victory to pure terror as he realized his mistake. Slowly, his gaze rose to meet mine.

  A vein throbbed angrily in my forehead. My eye twitched.

  I didn’t need to say anything.

  With a gentle wave of my hand, Aspen went flying through the air like an overgrown Magikarp.

  “VERAAAAA—!” he screamed, flailing helplessly before splashing spectacularly into the ocean.

  For a moment, I thought that was punishment enough.

  Then I heard Kara laughing uncontrollably. Too uncontrollably.

  If Kara was enjoying herself… clearly I could take things a bit further.

  My fingers twitched slightly, guiding the water around Aspen into a swirling vortex. His panicked cries were muffled by the roaring waves as he thrashed about uselessly, caught in my psychic Whirlpool.

  “Vera, careful! You’re actually gonna drown him!” Kara choked between gasps of laughter.

  I didn’t respond. He wasn’t drowning.

  I was just teaching Aspen an important lesson about personal boundaries.

  Aspen’s struggling weakened, his movements slowing to a halt.

  Perhaps I’d overdone it slightly.

  The laughter died immediately. Kara and I exchanged a quick, worried glance.

  “Oh Arceus… Vera, maybe that’s enough,” Kara muttered, trying to hide her own concern.

  I sighed, snapping my fingers gently. The ocean released Aspen, his limp, soaked body floating upward like a deflated Drifloon. He coughed weakly, dripping seawater, eyes glazed over and thoroughly humbled.

  A brief pang of guilt tugged at my chest, but just briefly. Kara and I carefully lowered him onto the sandy shore.

  (Kara’s Perspective)

  I’d never in my life seen anyone panic-flail that hard mid-air.

  Aspen twisted and flopped like a freshly caught Magikarp as Vera effortlessly tossed him into the ocean. He hit the water in a perfect splash, drenching half the shoreline.

  “OH, ARCEUS!” I gasped, doubling over and clutching my sides. I was laughing so hard, tears streamed down my face. “VERA, YOU’RE—YOU’RE REALLY GOING FOR IT!”

  Vera said nothing, completely unfazed as she casually stirred the ocean around him like a spoon mixing tea.

  Aspen’s arms waved wildly, muffled cries barely audible over the waves. It was absolutely hilarious. Until he stopped moving entirely.

  My laughter cut off sharply.

  “Wait, Vera—” I squinted. “Did we… actually kill him?”

  Vera tilted her head slightly, then, with an indifferent snap, released him from her psychic grip.

  Aspen emerged from the sea like a lifeless Slowpoke, utterly defeated. We gently laid him on the sand, soaked, shivering, and looking beyond pathetic.

  He coughed weakly, sputtered out seawater, then managed a barely audible groan:

  “I… hate both of you…”

  Then promptly fainted, completely unconscious.

  Silence hung heavily between us. Wingull circled lazily overhead, utterly indifferent to our chaos. The waves gently kissed the shore.

  I stared at Aspen’s limp, waterlogged body, then glanced at Vera. Our eyes met, and I burst into uncontrollable laughter all over again.

  “Come on, Vera—admit it, that was hilarious!”

  Vera gave a resigned sigh. Yet, as she stared down at Aspen’s utterly defeated form, I caught a faint, almost imperceptible twitch of amusement on her lips.

  Quietly, she muttered under her breath:

  “Yeah, Aspen. I hate you too.”