The thought of facing Cee, a trainer on the cusp of Ultra Rank, had me walk with a force behind my steps. I’d seen Cynthia battle, and I’d witnessed the sheer weight behind her Pokémon’s attacks. More than anything else, I wanted my team to achieve that level of power, and winning this battle would be our first step.

  “For our match, I’d prefer somewhere less public than a Pokémon Center. There are a few parks a bit inland, and at least one should have an available battlefield,” Cee said.

  “Sure,” I replied, only half-paying attention. “That’s fine with me.”

  Cee nodded in acknowledgement, his large hood and metal-banded mask covering his face, and he turned to stride off into the distance.

  I followed, of course.

  But I fell a short distance behind—Cee was competing in the World Coronation Series. He had a public profile, and he already knew who I was. If he had looked me up, then it was only fair if I looked him up in return.

  “Rotom,” I whispered, bringing up my wrist. “Can you pull up his profile?”

  Rotom grinned at me from within my smartwatch, and then that small screen changed to display an internet browser while sparks crackled out from his influence.

  Honestly, the browser application was a bit strange. I had no clue who had thought it was a good idea to call the internet here the “Pokénet.” Still, Rotom was able to pull up the official Pokémon League’s website, and he searched through its listed trainers on my behalf.

  Nothing. Cee wasn’t there.

  “Try the Series’s site,” I said, offering that idea to Rotom.

  If Cee wasn’t showing up on the Pokémon League’s website, then that meant he had not earned any Gym Badges, and he had not competed in any official tournaments before this one. However, even though the Pokémon League’s website usually contained more complete profiles, the World Coronation Series’s main site was guaranteed to have a trainer profile for every competitor.

  Yet, Rotom still did not find him even on the Series’s website. It was hard to learn more about “Cee” with how nonspecific his name was. I was half-hoping the reason we couldn’t locate him was that his real identity was on the leaderboards, and that we could find him to learn his true face and his name.

  But nothing like that showed up.

  Instead, only once we sorted the competitor rankings alphabetically did we finally find a picture of him—and the picture contained that same massive hood and metal mask that obscured his face.

  “How did he swing that?” I mumbled.

  It was certainly weird to see someone's identity be so obscured in the official rankings. That wasn’t necessarily supposed to happen, but what was even stranger was his listed name.

  I had misunderstood what he had introduced himself as. His name wasn’t “Cee.” It was just “C.” As in, the letter “C.” That one consonant was all that was listed to establish his identity.

  ...I was still probably going to call him “Cee,” anyway.

  At least, finding his profile let us catch a glimpse of his team—there were six images of Pokémon, all listed out in a short grid. It was a surprise to see that his team wasn’t dissimilar in theme to mine. It made me wonder if that kind of similarity was one of the reasons he had searched me out in the first place.

  There was a Magneton, a Steel and Electric type composed of three connected Magnemite bodies. Then, Cee had a Magnezone as well, the evolution of Magneton, but that Pokémon was likely specialized differently. He also kept a Beheeyem with him, a Psychic-type that resembled a floating alien—or, it resembled what its name implied: a bug-eyed monster. Then, I also saw he had Rotom as well, which didn’t surprise me given his familiarity with the species, and in the back was a mass of floating gears: an Unovan species named “Klinklang.”

  However, I knew that Cee was not someone who could be underestimated. There, in the images of his team, my eyes locked onto one Pokémon in particular.

  “He has a Metagross.”

  Ahead of us, Cee continued to stride down the road, unaware of the research I was doing. He walked with the confidence of someone who knew he was guiding someone else.

  This would not be an easy fight.

  But it was a fight I planned to win. Defeating Cee here would be proof that my team had the potential to keep climbing through the ranks.

  “Just up ahead,” Cee called out from ahead of me. “Should be around these trees.”

  I exchanged one last look with Rotom within my watch before I quickly brought my arm down. The screen of my wristwatch turned off, but I could still feel static crackling from activity. Likely, Rotom was continuing to look over the entries by himself, attempting to see what other information he could glean.

  The curving Undella Town road we followed soon opened up into a park surrounded by trees. Unlike everywhere else near the beach, our immediate surroundings weren’t tropical in the slightest. It much better fit with the natural, forested cliffs that framed the town from a distance, and it had paths that stretched through the grass to encircle a large pond.

  Next to that water, a handful of people stood around to throw broken chunks of Pokémon food at swimming Ducklett and Swanna. A few small monkeys colored red, blue, and green hung in the trees, and I didn’t miss how those Pokémon would climb down to swipe some of that tossed food.

  But my attention only lingered on the center of the park for a few seconds; my focus was quickly brought elsewhere. There, off to the side of the park ahead of us, was a row of three public battlefields and the place Cee and I would fight.

  The two fields at the edges of the row had already been claimed. Seeing the fights in progress made me remember my promise to Geeta; I needed to keep an eye out for other intriguing trainers.

  As we approached, I eyed a Beedrill that rushed a crackling Electabuzz. On the other field, a knightly, shelled Escavalier, slid around to avoid feathers thrown like daggers from a Dartrix.

  Every time one of those projectiles hit the Pokémon’s shell, they pinged against the armor, the Escavalier not even blinking at the direct impacts.

  I had trained with Valiant for long enough to recognize the skill with which the Escavalier wielded the lances that were its arms. I took a moment to memorize its white-haired trainer’s face; time would tell if they were someone independent and able to be recruited, but for now, I’d only keep them in mind in case I saw them perform so well again.

  “For this battle,” Cee said once we arrived on the empty field, and my attention was brought back to that mysterious, hooded man who would be my opponent. “I would prefer if we used two Pokémon each.”

  “At once?” I asked.

  “In total,” he clarified.

  To that, I sent him a questioning look that required no words from me, and the man chuckled from underneath his iron mask.

  “I wish for us to use two Pokémon each so we can mimic the decision-making process of a promotion battle,” Cee said. “You will choose two Pokémon from your four to face me, and selecting just two would require you to use more strategy than just relying on your entire team at once.”

  “I can accept that,” I replied, nodding, but I also took careful notice of his words. He mentioned that I only had four Pokémon with me, and that served as another piece of evidence that he had looked me up before I had even arrived in town.

  “We’ll start as soon as both of our Pokémon are on the field,” Cee said. He turned to begin striding toward the opposite, marked trainer box.

  “Got it. I’ll need to choose carefully, then,” I mumbled to myself.

  On my wrist, Rotom was letting loose static to tell me he was itching to fight. I had already seen everyone else be returned in preparation for this battle, so it was just him that remained outside of a Pokéball.

  “With only two Pokémon, though...” I whispered. “I think we’ll wait on you slightly. I want you to clean up once our first battler faints. You know that he really needs the practice, right?”

  Checking my wrist, I could see Rotom reply with a stern nod. Though still grinning, he wasn’t too happy he’d need to wait.

  “I’ll send you out. I promise,” I said with a slight laugh. “Just... Against this guy, it’s going to be an uphill battle, but I trust you to pull off a win, alright?”

  Rotom’s grin stretched to be as wide as ever, and the image of his face on my possessed watch bounced up and down for him to say that my faith in him was correctly placed.

  Then, I turned to face Cee, a trainer ranked at what was essentially the top of the Great Rank. However, though he neared it, he was not at the Ultra Rank just yet, and if I beat him here, then that’d confirm my team was well on their way to reaching the Master Rank by the end of the season.

  We needed to win.

  I didn’t want to prove Marlon right.

  “Magneton,” Cee named, tossing out his first Pokémon.

  “Metang!” I shouted, throwing the Ultra Ball containing my newest team member forward.

  These two Pokémon appeared across from each other in the air over the field, and Cee looked on emotionlessly from beneath his mask.

  His selection made me smile; looking him up had let me learn just what species were on his team, and seeing this Magneton here told me exactly what he was doing:

  Cee’s strategy was the same as mine, and in a way, the same as Lucian’s. We were both sending out our “weakest” Pokémon first as a way to test our opponent, grant our first team member experience, and make room for a stronger Pokémon to sweep.

  “Confusion, lock it down!” I shouted, giving my orders first. “Just like we practiced—and make sure to shift into Iron Head, next!”

  Metang was already rushing forward, and his red eyes glowed blue. That same color appeared as an aura around the Pokémon ahead of him, and his telekinetic energy held the Magneton in place.

  But the Magneton didn’t seem like it had intended to move, anyway.

  “First, a test,” Cee stated. “Magneton, release your Metal Sound.”

  The three Magnemite that made up the Magneton’s body all attempted to split apart. They forced their way through the weak telekinesis, not escaping but just squeezing further out to allow their bodies to slam back together with a resonating gong.

  The sound of their vibrating, metal bodies was nauseating. However, the worst of the sound was aimed toward Metang—but to little effect. He practically broke right through, completely ignoring the strange sound waves.

  “Clear Body,” I said to Cee.

  “Then, my hypothesis was correct.”

  Clear Body was Metang’s ability—his crystalline blue metal made him all but immutable. He could take damage. He could suffer status effects. He could grow more tired over time. But the one thing that couldn’t affect him was having his capabilities reduced in battle.

  A move like Metal Sound would never work; Clear Body meant Metang would always fight at full power.

  “Go!” I shouted, and another metallic noise echoed out.

  This time around, however, the sound was the metal-on-metal of Metang reaching and slamming into the Magneton.

  Metang released his telekinetic hold for this, allowing himself to bring his entire body straight into his opponent. At first, the Magneton was just pushed back, but Metang kept going. He pushed into it even harder, changing angles, and he flashed with Iron Head to send both of them crashing into the ground.

  “Metal Claw!” I shouted.

  None of the moves I ordered was that effective against the Magneton. It was a Steel type, and the Steel type resisted Steel-type moves. However, as much as type effectiveness was key at winning battles, move choice and working with your Pokémon were just as important.

  Iron Head was a powerful, full-body opener that carried a chance of causing its target to flinch. And while Metal Claw was weaker, it carried a secondary effect:

  That same, metallic energy used to enhance Metang’s claws could be carried forward to enhance all of his future attacks.

  With the Iron Head slamming the Magneton to the dirt, battlefield floor, Metang immediately began to lay into it, slightly pulling back just enough to allow his gleaming claws to carve across the Magneton’s body. I could tell that, even though the move was resisted, Metang was dealing damage. Scratch marks appeared across his opponent, and the more Metang attacked, the more damage he dealt.

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  His attack power was growing—his claws were sharpening.

  All the while, Cee stood there and watched.

  “Thunder Wave,” he said eventually.

  The U-shaped magnets on the sides of the Magneton’s body spun to generate a charge, and a weak pulse traveled out to pass through Metang and inflict him with a paralysis that’d make him struggle to move.

  “Now, Thunderbolt,” Cee ordered next.

  “You’re boosted enough!” I yelled. “Switch to Zen Headbutt!”

  Metang had been doing a great job of following my commands so far, but I could tell he was getting ticked off by being paralyzed—again. He just wanted to fight, and he just wanted to tear into his foe. But, even though Magneton had been pinned, it had managed to limit him.

  And Metang really didn’t like that.

  He slammed downward even as the Magneton let loose a more powerful zap—one strong enough to actually deal some damage. Unfortunately for his opponent, Metang had no plans to fall so easily. He snapped his claws forward to grab and lock down two of the Magneton’s Magnemite, and the horn on the center of Metang’s face glowed a Psychic-type blue.

  From his opponent, electricity was sent rippling through Metang, leaving black patterns across the surface of his body. But Metang forced his way through that damage just as he forced his way through the static of his paralysis, and he tore himself forward to deliver his Zen Headbutt attack.

  Then, he did it again.

  And again.

  And again.

  “...Return, Magneton,” Cee eventually said.

  A red light hit the Pokémon beneath Metang, causing it to fade away and be sucked back into Cee’s yellow and black Ultra Ball.

  He might have taken a few zaps in the process, but Metang had knocked the Magneton out.

  “Interesting strategy. A full-body push toward fighting, one that persisted regardless of the state your Pokémon was in.” Cee looked over Metang, almost inspecting the Pokémon as Metang lifted himself off the floor.

  He might have won against the Magneton, but that Magneton had been far more defensive than either of us expected. It took quite the effort, and Metang was already growing tired. Due to the stinging paralysis, the damage of several Thunderbolts, and the constant slamming of his face, Metang wobbled slightly as if he were in a daze.

  But he didn’t let himself fall. If this battle was a movie, then this would have been the point where Metang would spit a tooth out onto the floor.

  “Do you beat your Pokémon?” Cee suddenly asked.

  “What?! No!”

  A heat immediately built in response to that accusation.

  “I’m just curious. Your Metang can withstand a significant amount of damage. It has a level of stamina that can only be reached by a Pokémon that has taken plenty of beatings before.”

  “...Wait,” I asked, the anger rapidly fading away, “do you mean a beating in battle?”

  “Of course,” Cee answered easily enough. “What else did you think I meant?”

  I said nothing, and I sent a quiet look toward Metang while gathering my thoughts.

  “Metang has... always pushed himself, I’m pretty sure,” I ended up saying. “He was in bad shape when I caught him, but he’d been in a bad shape for a long time, all completely from his own choice. He’s been healed since then, and he’s had his practice spars, but any attacks he’s taken have come from his need to battle and grow.”

  “It’s a new capture?” Cee actually seemed to blink at that. “That’s an impressive durability for a Pokémon caught so recently.”

  “Metang’s special,” I said as my Pokémon floated above the field. “I’ve never seen a Pokémon so determined to fight. And I really have to stress that. Genuinely, he’s a Pokémon that’s never going to give up—and I think he’s pretty cool for it.”

  In the air, still trying to fight through his paralysis, Metang turned slightly to look back at me.

  I sent him a smile.

  When he turned back around to once again face Cee’s side of the field, for the first time in a long time, it felt as though Metang wanted to win for more than just his own benefit.

  “...Interesting,” Cee mumbled to himself, watching that exchange. “Let’s test him further. Magnezone, come out and use Zap Cannon.”

  My smile twitched at the Pokémon that appeared, and it completely disappeared at the move Cee named.

  Moves tended to come in “tiers,” with certain attacks almost serving as more powerful versions of other moves. For example, Psychic was a more powerful version of Confusion, and Thunder was a more powerful version of Thunderbolt.

  Zap Cannon, however?

  It stood at the level where moves began to significantly trade accuracy for power. Specifically, Zap Cannon might have been horribly inaccurate, but it stood at the very top of what Electric-type attacks had to offer.

  In all honesty, while Thunder was already a powerful attack, I would have to say that Zap Cannon was a more powerful version of Thunder.

  “Get out of there!” I shouted.

  My words didn’t matter—after fighting it for so long, Metang’s paralysis finally acted up. He was unable to move, having been set up by the previous Magneton to become nothing more than target practice.

  His opponent, the UFO-like Magnezone, let out a cheerful buzz. A pair of massive magnets spun at its front to generate an incredible amount of electricity, and that electricity built even further to solidify into a completely solid sphere.

  The move continued to build, and the Magnezone chirped in delight.

  A certain dread settled into my stomach.

  “Metang has no way to escape,” I whispered.

  Magnezone was not just using Zap Cannon, but it was aiming its move.

  Because Metang was briefly stuck in place, Magnezone had the time to ensure its attack would hit thanks to the accuracy-boosting Lock-On.

  As well as Metang had fought earlier, there was nothing he could do to fight or defend against this. I tried to call for a Confusion, but Metang wasn’t even able to slow this attack. A blue glow tried to form around the yellow sphere that shot his way, but that blue glow broke almost immediately.

  The electric sphere hit Metang, exploded, and then all of that electricity coursed through him.

  He could have maybe withstood this move if he hadn’t taken any damage earlier, but the way he fought meant that could never happen.

  Thus, with a bang, Metang fainted.

  “You have room for improvement,” Cee mused. “Your Metang has yet to evolve, but I’m looking forward to seeing how it battles once it does.”

  “...Thanks.” The compliment felt hollow after seeing Metang faint to his Magnezone’s attack. I brought up my own Ultra Ball to return Metang, and I hoped that Zap Cannon hadn’t also damaged his pride.

  With Metang knocked out, this battle was already half over. My next choice seriously mattered. I wanted—needed—to win. I couldn’t afford to lose any battle if we wanted to earn the points needed to reach the Ultra and then Master Rank by the end of the year.

  Against a Steel-type like Magnezone, with their Fighting-type moves, Valiant was my best answer by far. Rotom’s heat form would have been a great choice here, but that microwave oven was still disassembled and partially frozen in my backpack, sitting there and waiting to be sold.

  Everything seemed to point toward me sending out Valiant here if I wanted to win, but did I really want to make that choice?

  Valiant was the easy solution. Valiant was our best path toward victory. However, with their strength, Valiant was always our most straightforward path toward victory, and overrelying on them would only ever see more and more of my team members fall behind.

  I couldn’t rely only on my best Pokémon. All of my Pokémon mattered.

  Everyone needed to be able to play their part. We were supposed to be a team.

  “Yeah, this makes the most sense, anyway,” I said to myself. “Besides, I made Rotom a promise, and I don’t go back on my word.”

  Someone else might have called my choice dumb, but even though Rotom wasn’t Valiant, sending Rotom out against Magnezone was still going to give us an opportunity to potentially pull off an easy win.

  “Rotom!” I shouted. “Fan form!”

  I didn’t need to grab a Pokéball for this; I just held up my arm.

  A wide grin erupted across the screen on my wrist, and Rotom didn’t hesitate to jump out. He immediately turned into electricity and flashed into my backpack.

  “Oh, so you’ll be showing me how that drone of yours performs in battle?” Cee asked.

  He visibly stopped himself from taking a step forward, and he actually sounded excited.

  “More than just that!” I shouted in reply. “I’ll be showing you how Rotom wins his battles!”

  With that declaration, I thrust my arm out to the side—dramatics were half the fun of Pokémon battles, of course—and an orange blur shot out of my backpack to begin hovering over the field.

  Rotom appeared within his metal cylinder of a fan, and ghostly plasma stretched out to provide him with two yellow arms.

  “Electric Terrain!” I shouted.

  I didn’t wait even a second.

  Sparks coated the field as Rotom stabbed his arms into the earth. Electric Terrain would boost any Electric-type attack—although, technically, his Levitate ability meant it shouldn’t have affected him.

  However, this wasn’t the games. This was reality. A Pokémon had a will of its own, and it could choose how it wanted to battle. Rotom could negate his Levitate by just... keeping himself close to the floor. He didn’t need to stay in the air for this; we wanted him to have that charge.

  This Electric Terrain would make his Electric-type moves more powerful, but we also couldn’t forget that remained true for any Pokémon in this battle.

  Rotom’s Electric Terrain would affect Magnezone, too.

  “...Thunderbolt,” Cee ordered. He looked on, cautious yet curious, and I could tell that calling for a weaker move than Zap Cannon was his method of probing my strategy.

  And, honestly, a weaker Electric-type move like Thunderbolt was the right call here—as Rotom had gained the Flying-type, his usual resistance to electricity was now negated.

  But this attack was what we wanted.

  Unfortunately for Cee, I was preparing a combination that was likely the most clever combination on my team. Here, calling for an Electric Terrain was nothing more than bait to give Rotom the chance to build the most powerful attack possible.

  “Charge!” I yelled.

  In much the same way it had built its attack before, the Magnezone spun its magnets. Almost like operating a rail gun, an electric charge built between them, and that electric charge was enhanced by the Electric Terrain.

  When the lightning bolt zapped out, it hit Rotom in the same moment he was gathering electricity with Charge.

  He took the full damage, but every volt of the Thunderbolt was sucked right into him.

  If there’s anything I learned from the small bit of the anime I’ve watched, it’s that Electric-type Pokémon can be overcharged by other Electric types!

  The Thunderbolt was enhanced by the terrain. Charge was enhanced by the terrain. And Rotom’s upcoming attack would be enhanced by the terrain. He could barely hold back the sheer amount of electricity that was building inside him. Rotom honestly started to look ill, but that was the trick—he’d feel better than ever as soon as he released every volt.

  (Also, I hoped this was like flexing a muscle for him; by experiencing this level of electricity, there was a chance he’d learn to generate and wield power like this on his own in the future.)

  But that was for later.

  This battle was still going on.

  And it was time for us to end it by unleashing an impossibly strong move.

  “THUNDER!” I roared.

  This had worked for Ash’s Pikachu so many times in the past that there was no doubt in my mind that we’d faint the Magnezone regardless of any resistance it had.

  Every ounce of electricity poured out of Rotom, and all of it left his body while being further enhanced by the terrain. All around us, the world flashed white and yellow, and the two nearby battles were even put on hold out of awe at the sheer power behind Rotom’s attack.

  This was more like an orbital strike than a Pokémon move—the power contained in this single Thunder was completely ridiculous.

  But, unbothered, Cee suddenly spoke up.

  “Protect.”

  A barrier formed around the Magnezone, and Rotom’s ultimate strike was negated.

  “I’ve found that a high proportion of battles end with a single, decisive move,” Cee said, adjusting the ends of his sleeves to make sure they covered the edges of his gloves. “Plenty of Pokémon that do know Protect often fail to use it when witnessing such overwhelming force. It’s a trainer’s duty to correct that, and truthfully, I’ve never fully understood why so many are willing to let their Pokémon lose.”

  With Magnezone unaffected, I felt my legs wobble and may or may not have let out a curse under my breath.

  Despite being a ghost possessing a machine, Rotom was breathing heavily, and Cee’s Magnezone wasn’t damaged at all.

  Rotom had taken that initial Thunderbolt to fuel this attack, and then he had squeezed every bit of electricity out of him to prevent an overcharge-caused illness. This Thunder should have been enough, but it had only ended up draining him. Even with the Electric Terrain still on the field, it would take time for him to gather a usable amount of electricity again.

  But even if Electric-type moves aren’t an option, Rotom’s Air Slash can cause a flinch. We can still do this. We just need to stun the Magnezone and land a proper Shadow Ball.

  The battle wasn’t over; just like Metang before me, I wasn’t going to quit so easily, and neither was Rotom. Cee might have surprised us by calling for Protect, but we surprised him in return by not letting the confidence fade from our eyes.

  “That was impressive, regardless,” Cee said. Under his mask, he slightly tilted his head back as if making an expression, but I couldn’t see what that expression was. “As much as there’s more of this battle to go, I’ve seen enough. Thank you.”

  He lowered his head.

  “You did well,” Cee said. “So for now, I’ll forfeit.”

  Everything seemed to pause. The world felt as though it became perfectly silent save for the sound of Cee’s Magnezone disappearing from the field.

  “...W-what?” It took me several seconds to gather myself enough to speak even just that one word. “Why?!”

  The question was more like a hiss.

  “I intended to test both your team and your skill as a trainer,” Cee answered casually, returning to adjusting his sleeves. “And I’ve learned enough. So I’m satisfied.”

  “But Rotom isn’t done yet!” I shouted. “He still has time to faint your Magnezone!”

  “Perhaps, but I can already guess your plan—Air Slash to achieve a flinch, and then Shadow Ball to finish off the match, hm?”

  I was silent, staring, and probably glaring. Cee just chuckled at my reaction, and his Magnezone’s Ultra Ball disappeared somewhere into his cloak.

  “Since you asked me why, I’ll give you a more truthful answer. Think of this forfeit as a thanks for your cooperation. The only thing riding on this battle is ranking points, and points don’t matter to me,” Cee said, still acting far too casual for his sudden forfeit. “I care more for seeing interesting trainers than improving my rank. Really, entering the tournament itself has just been a means to an end.”

  “In fact,” Cee continued. He began to lift an arm as if to touch something on his face, but he seemed to remember something and quickly brought that arm back down. “I’ve been putting off my promotion battle for quite some time, and promotion battles are... special. They are more about testing to see if the trainer is of the average level of that rank, rather than testing for the bare minimum of that rank. Anyone up for promotion would be closer to a mid-tier Ultra Rank trainer rather than an Ultra Rank trainer at the bottom. Therefore, I can already tell you that you’re well on your way to reaching the top of the Ultra Rank by the end of the Series.”

  “But...” I felt myself grip my hands at my sides. Cee’s words were like a blow to the stomach. “That’s not enough. We wouldn’t... we wouldn’t even be able to match Lucian. We need the experience of this battle. We aren’t going to be satisfied with the Ultra Rank. The whole reason we’re fighting is to reach the Master Rank!”

  Ahead of me, on the field, Rotom sent Cee a furious nod from where he was still possessing his fan. Winning these uphill battles served as proof of his own. He wanted to prove to himself and the world that he was capable of being so much more than whatever machine he possessed.

  We needed to keep pushing, so such an anticlimactic end to a battle was basically an insult. It would have hurt to lose here, but I also knew Cee wasn’t a joke. At least if the battle didn’t end in our favor, we would have gained the experience of losing to a tougher foe.

  I could feel my anger growing at such a nonchalant end to our match, but something began to shine in Cee’s eyes as I spoke.

  It was as if he needed to take a moment to consider what I had said, but when he soon spoke, it was like he was blurting the phrase out.

  “The Master Rank?” he suddenly asked. “So, you are truly trying to reach the top? Might I... Might I ask why?”

  I had no reason to keep this hidden, so I didn’t hesitate to answer his question.

  “Why? It’s because we’re trying to beat someone—Geeta. My sponsor. I know you’ve seen her name if you’ve looked us up,” I said, all but barking this out. “If we can prove we’re stronger than her, then... Then we won’t be forced to live under her thumb! We would be able to live as we wish and not have to deal with her constantly breathing down our necks.”

  I could not see Cee’s expression. His face continued to be hidden by his mask. However, I could see his yellow eyes, and as they watched me, that gaze of his gleamed.

  “A single, specific goal,” he muttered. “Freedom. And it’s a goal from such a dedicated trainer... You mentioned how you appreciate your Metang’s determination?”

  “We need that level of determination if we’re to win,” I snapped at him.

  For some reason, my response only caused the gleam in Cee’s eyes to grow.

  Soon, he let out an echoing laugh.

  “Nicholas!” Cee announced, the sound of my name echoing out as if it wasn’t muffled by his mask. “Let me offer you an apology for so suddenly ending our battle. To make it up to you, would you like some help?”

  “Help?” I repeated.

  I stared at him silently, but I didn’t know what else to say. Something about the way he was acting was screaming at me that he was grinning under his mask.

  “You wish to ascend to the Master Rank. I wish to witness the utmost potential of Pokémon. For this, our interests have aligned. So my offer of help is no mere offer; if you say yes, I will do everything in my power to ensure you will succeed in your climb.”

  Silence stretched out. We weren’t even alone. The two battles taking place on the nearby fields had completely stopped, and the four other trainers here were watching this exchange as if it were a show.

  “You... want to help me get stronger?”

  “Not in the slightest,” Cee answered without delay. “No, Nicholas. What I want to see is you and your Pokémon living up to your true potential. I want you all to reach your peak form.”

  To this man, merely getting stronger was too weak a goal. He had entered this tournament for a distinct reason. His own rank didn’t matter to him—it was only a tool for him to personally witness tough battles. And now, I had all but offered to do that on his behalf.

  After all, his team was already plenty strong. There was not much else he could do for himself within his research. But, if he wanted to test his theories regarding growing a team’s potential, then why not test those theories on me and my team?

  “You don’t need to accept now,” Cee quickly said. It felt as though he was no longer fully here. “I need time to plan, of course, and you need time to consider. But if you do find my offer tempting, then find me in Black City to the southwest. I rarely give my word, but for this, I promise you that with my help, you will reach the Master Rank by the end of the year.”

  I opened my mouth to reply, but Cee just started to walk over. His eyes flicked around to watch nothing at all—he was lost in deep, deep thought.

  Stuck with a confused look, Rotom watched the man as he strode across the field, and Cee held out a gloved hand.

  “Good battle,” he said, absentmindedly going through the classic after-match tradition.

  “...Good battle,” I mumbled in reply, numbly shaking his hand in return.

  Cee seemed to return to his full presence for just long enough to send me a reaffirming nod, and then he strode with long paces straight off the field. He left me behind with only my team as company, giving me both the time and a goal to consider whether or not his offer was something I wanted to accept.

  But in truth, signs were already pointing to my failure if I kept going on as I was now. I would never reach the Master Rank if things stayed the same.

  If there was ever any way for my team to get stronger—

  No, if there was any way for us to reach the peak—

  Cee’s proposed deal echoed in my mind, and I was leaning toward accepting it more than I was not.

  Cee’s Team:

  Beheeyem

  /

  Pokémon mentioned in this chapter:

  Beedrill

  /

  Nick’s Team:

  Iron Valiant

  enormous thank you to everyone reading! Your support keeps this story going.