"Why did you save me?"

  Dressed in a dirt-stained prison uniform, Satled to keep up behind him. Even though he already had a vague idea, he still couldn't help but ask.

  "…anizational orders."

  The young man remained silent for a long time befiving a weak excuse.

  Sato lowered his head. A faint trace of disappoi flickered in his heart, but more than anything, he found it ughable.

  I was expeg too much.

  "Catch!"

  Sato reacted instinctively, stretg out his hands. Four Poké Balls nded firmly in his grasp.

  "Zoroark!"

  He cried out excitedly.

  When he had been captured, his Pokémon had all been rendered powerless. He never imagined he would get them back.

  By all logic, the Pokémon League wasn't known for being merciful when it came to fisg Pokémon from dark anizations.

  Among them, there were many that had killed, even devoured humans.

  For Pokémon with low bat potential or no research value, they were simply released into the wild. That was the best possible oute—it meant they were left alone.

  But for those with even a hint of strength, they were kept behind.

  Experiments, breeding stock, underground battle arenas—their fates were far worse thah.

  The League wasn't a charity anization. If something could be "recycled", they would squeeze every st drop of value from it.

  During his time in captivity, Sato's greatest fear wasn't his own fate—It was what would happen to his Pokémon.

  None of them were weak, so releasing them was never an option.

  The moment the young man unlocked his prison door, Sato had told himself—

  "An assassin must learn to embrace loneliness."

  Because at that moment, he believed—he no longer had any panions.

  Whether he escaped or not didn't matter anymore. But whe them back, only then did he feel like he had been truly reborn.

  g the Poké Balls tightly, he gazed at the ordinary-looking figure walking ahead.

  He uood everything. That year, he was een.

  At twenty-two, thanks to the Dark Energy, Sato had advanced rapidly, rising to the rank of Blue Rank Assassin—just oep away from earning Silver Rank status.

  Driven by youthful arrogance, he accepted the promotion task—infiltrate Hoenn's Pokémon League Headquarters and assassinate a high-ranking official!

  With only one Pokémon at Pseudo-Elite Four (Low Level), the oute was obvious...

  He failed.

  Trapped with no escape route, Sato fell into despair—and once again, the young man appeared to save him!

  "Why did you save me?!"

  This time, Sato demanded an ahere was no way this was an "anizational mission"!

  "…anizational orders."

  The same ridiculous excuse. Who would believe it?

  Sure, Sato was one of Ghost Ship's promising assassins, but he was just one among many. There was no way they would send a Silver Badge Assassin just to help him.

  Let alone for a promotion task! But even the young man's intervention wasn't enough to guaraheir escape.

  This was the Pokémon League Headquarters—there was no way they could walk out freely. The security teams sealed off every exit, surrounding them from all sides.

  With Zoroark and the others pletely exhausted, only his remaining Pokémon had any fight left in them.

  "Do you remember what you oaught me?"

  "Hmm?"

  The young man, still fighting while retreating, replied absentmindedly.

  "An assassin must not have emotions!"

  "So stop interfering—ahe hell out of here!"

  Sato turned and ran in the opposite dire. The young man still had a Cydol, one of the few Pokémon capable of using Teleport.

  With it, he could escape easily—but not if he wasted time trying to save Sato!

  The League's forces split into two groups.

  One half surrounded Sato, but none of them rushed in recklessly, wary that he might try to take them down with him.

  The other half chased after the young man with full force!

  "An assassin… truly doesn't need emotions…"

  The young man whispered to himself. As the League's forces closed ited Cydol gently.

  "Teleport."

  A fsh of light—and then—The one who vanished was not Cydol.

  Sato!

  From that moment on, they would never meet again in this world of hell.

  …

  "Hey, hey! You're spag out again. There aren't even any pretty girls ahead!"

  Wester muttered, even taking a moment to gn the dire of Sato's gaze. But all he saw was ay street.

  "Let's head back early a well."

  Sato Wester, then quickly walked back to the hotel.

  Wester frowned.

  Sato must have seen something just now. But if he wasn't saying anything, theer wouldn't be able to guess.

  …

  The night passed in silence.

  The m, Sato woke up on time for his m training before heading to the Tour veh Wester.

  After a night of adjustment, Sato seemed to have recovered pletely.

  Wester secretly breathed a sigh of relief—they had made it to the knockout rounds. This wasn't the time for his teammate to fall apart.

  All sixteen teams had gathered.

  Sato aer were assigo the third match, so they sat down and waited patiently.

  The knockout round rules allowed each team to use four Pokémon in a double battle rotation format.

  Each trainer could only send out one Pokémon at a time and had one ce to switon. The battle tinued until oeam lost all four Pokémon.

  This unventional format put even more emphasis on team coordination.

  As the crowd's cheers grew louder, Sato aer both uood—this round wasn't going to be easy.

  Eaon would have to fight alongside two different partners. Being able to quickly adapt to different battle styles and cooperate effectively was crucial.

  The iy of the double battle rotation format exceeded everyone's expectations.

  The matches progressed at an incredible speed—with strong coordination, the outes were swift and decisive.

  It wasn't long before it was their turn.

  Match three.

  Sato aer stepped onto the battlefield together. Their oppos were a man and a woman.

  The man wore bck-rimmed gsses, his small eyes gleaming with intelligehe woman was dressed in sportswear, her tanned skin revealihletic background.

  "Battle, start!"

  Both sides threw their Poké Balls—four fshes of red light erupted!

  Gengar, Houndoom, Rapidash, and Magcargo took their positions otlefield.

  "Wait—why aren't they using Ariados and Skarmory?"

  The athletic girl questioned her partner before the battle even started.

  "Uh…"

  The gsses-wearing man adjusted his frames, momentarily at a loss for words.

  In their previous matches, Sato aer had alterrategies. They had used Ariados and Skarmory ond Houndoom and Xatu twice.

  Their oppos had assumed that they would use Ariados and Skarmory this time—so they had specifically chosen two Fire-types to gain a type advantage.

  "It's fine! I checked—Houndoom isn't immuo Fire-type moves. But my Rapidash is, we still have the upper hand!"

  The gsses-wearing man fidently analyzed the situation.

  Sato's sharp hearing picked up their versation. He almost burst out ughing.

  At this point, ability knowledge wasn't yet widespread.

  The fact that his oppo had researched his Houndoom's ability and k wasn't Fsh Fire showed that the gsses-wearing man had done his homework.

  Too bad for him—Sato was the real bug in the system.

  The fu part? The Houndoom on the field wasn't even his—It was Wester's. And it was smaller than Sato's Houndoom—Yet they hadn't even noticed.

  Sato whispered a few words to Wester.

  Wester immediately caught on, suppressing his ughter as he gave Houndoom the order to dodge any Fire-type moves.