"Kadabra is unable to battle! The winner is Ursaring!"
"Congratulations to contestant Iron Bear on achieving his sixth consecutive victory! His prize pool now totals ₽120,000 Pokédollars and he's also earned a special reward from our club!"
As the announcer's voice echoed through the arena, the audience erupted into thunderous cheers. Of course, a few cries of despair mingled among them-no doubt from those who'd bet on the losing side.
Silas had to admit, the fight was intense. Pokémon on the Intermediate Tier were typically above level 30-right around the level of his own Crawdaunt and Sharpedo-so every movement on the field was sharp and strategic.
"But man… that was brutal," he murmured.
The Kadabra had been lifted by Ursaring, slammed hard into the ground, and pummeled by a flurry of Fighting-type attacks.
Quadruple weakness-there was no mercy in that matchup.
Even Kadabra's metallic spoon had snapped, and its armor-like defenses were visibly dented.
"Hah! That Ursaring's no joke," a voice said beside him.
Silas turned to see a punkish boy with a mohawk squatting on his seat, a Poké Ball twirling in his fingers.
"As I always say," the boy continued, grinning, "offense is the best defense!"
Silas smirked faintly. "Offense matters, sure but neglect defense, and you won't last long either."
The punk scoffed, snapping back instantly, "What do you know? Defense just slows you down. Go all-in-attack! Attack! Attack!"
He stood on his chair, waving his Poké Ball and shouting encouragement toward the fighters in the ring like some street-side fanatic.
Silas decided it wasn't worth arguing. His match was about to start anyway. He rose and left the stands.
Behind him, the mohawked punk tilted his head curiously then, with a shrug, followed Silas out of the intermediate arena and into the crowd gathering at the Beginner Tier ring.
...
"Next up-the new challenger known as Black Sky versus the returning fighter, Wolf!"
The announcer's voice boomed across the stadium.
Because many participants came from "gray areas" of society, the Battle Club didn't require real names-just nicknames.
Silas was fine with that. He'd simply written Black Sky, a subtle nod to his partner Murkrow.
And as the host mentioned, Wolf's signature Pokémon was a Mightyena-a fittingly savage opponent.
Silas stepped into the dim player's tunnel. From beyond came a roaring crowd and pounding battle music that vibrated through the floor.
Even before the fight began, the atmosphere made the blood rush.
"Quite the energy," he muttered, glancing at the glowing odds board. "No matter who wins… the house never loses."
He picked up one of the plain white masks provided for anonymity and slipped it on. The club's lack of concern for real identities was telling-it was all part of the underground charm.
A legal business with just enough shadow to make it exciting.
Silas approached a clerk near the betting counter.
"Place ₽100,000 Pokédollars on me to win," he said coolly, handing over a credit chip.
The clerk blinked. "A-all of it? On yourself?"
He nodded.
The odds showed 4:1–Wolf had already claimed three straight victories and was one of the better-known names in the Beginner circuit. Silas, meanwhile, was a newcomer, a nobody.
The staffer gave him a skeptical look. Few new entrants were bold enough to max out the wager.
For a moment, she hesitated-probably wondering if he was part of a match-fixing scheme.
After all, there had been such scandals before-two players colluding to rig fights, betting everything, and splitting the profits.
Those who tried it were caught immediately and never seen again.
Silas smirked beneath his mask. 'The betting cap's only a hundred thousand? Makes sense. Otherwise, some pro could stroll in, drop a few million, and break the system.'
He straightened his gloves and stepped forward as the floodlights blazed to life.
...
The arena unfolded before him-a simple square stage, stripped of luxury.
No water field.
No ice or grass terrain.
Just bare ground and bright lights.
"The returning contender, Wolf, enters with three straight victories! His Mightyena is still in peak condition and if he wins again tonight, he'll gain an additional ₽20,000, bringing his total to ₽80,000, plus a higher-tier mystery prize!"
The crowd roared louder, shaking the stands. Nearby machines gleamed as piles of money filled the digital display-a deliberate spectacle to fuel excitement.
Part of the appeal wasn't just the violence.
Wolf's battles were infamous for ending in injury-bloody, ruthless, and exhilarating to watch.
And then there were the mystery prizes: rare items sealed in decorative boxes.
Rumor had it that someone once pulled an Evolution Stone from one.
To ensure fairness, the organizers always had the winner open the prize onstage.
That suspense-the thrill of the unknown-was part of the show.
"Wolf! Wolf! Wolf!"
"Tear him apart!"
"Go, Wolf! Four wins in a row!"
Under the blinding lights, a tall, thin man wearing a savage wolf mask stepped into the arena, waving to his cheering fans, grinning wide as he basked in their adoration.
Silas exhaled slowly, feeling the energy of the crowd tilt entirely toward his opponent.
Not one voice called his name.
"And now," the host announced, "please welcome the challenger-Black Sky!"
"A newcomer," the announcer continued dryly, "whose chosen Pokémon is Murkrow-quite a rare sight these days.
A battle between Dark-types-who will prevail?"
But his tone was notably less enthusiastic-almost mocking.
And as expected, the crowd immediately erupted into boos.
Silas sighed. "So they're using me as the underdog to rile up the audience? Figures."
<><><><><><>
(Bonus chapter for holloween)
(End of chapter)