THE TWO TRUCKS ROLLED FORWARD TOGETHER.
For a few seconds, nothing happened.
Then,
HISSSSS.
A sharp, angry hiss burst from the left, followed almost instantly by another from the right.
Both trucks jerked at nearly the same time.
The drivers slammed the brakes, tires skidding slightly as the front wheels sagged fast, air leaking out in loud, furious streams.
"What the hell?" one of the men shouted as he jumped out.
All four poachers climbed down, boots crunching against dirt and flattened grass.
One of them crouched beside the right truck's front wheel, swearing as he pulled out a nail from the tire.
The tire was going flat fast, the rubber sagging lower as air hissed out.
It still held a little shape, but it was clear it wouldn't go far.
Another checked the left truck and found the same thing, sharp punctures, air hissing out.
One of the men,
a tall, scarred guy in a black jacket,
growled as he pulled a nail from the tire.
"Punctured. Someone scattered something sharp on the trail."
They argued for a moment, voices rising, suspicion creeping in.
"How did both trucks hit it at once?" the shorter one with a beard snapped, kicking the grass.
"We came the same way yesterday, nothing like this happened then."
Heads turned, eyes scanning the tall grass around them, hands hovering near Poké Balls.
But they still didn't notice us. We had already moved far away.
They shook it off as bad luck and got to work fast, dragging out tools and spare tires from the backs of the trucks.
They moved quickly, like they didn't want to waste time,
…especially with illegal goods.
Perfect.
RYAN WAS WATCHING ALL THIS FROM A BIT FAR BUT NOT TOO FAR, HIDDEN LOW IN THE TALL GRASS WITH LOPUNNY WAS BESIDE HIM.
The longer they stayed busy, the closer help got.
They were distracted.
Focused.
Annoyed and confused.
Exactly what I needed.
'Earlier, while they were still packing their camp, I had guessed the path they would take and slipped ahead to set up the trap.
From my bag, I took out a handful of small steel nails.
They weren't weapons.
I carried them for everyday things: fixing torn straps, pinning down tent corners in hard ground, repairing loose gear on the trail.
Light, cheap, and handy,
…so I always kept a small box of them in my pack.
I pressed them carefully into the softer parts of the trail, spacing them out, sharp ends angled up but hidden under a thin layer of grass and dirt.
Not enough to destroy a truck.
Just enough to slow it down.'
Now, watching them curse and kneel beside the wheels, I knew it had worked.
They weren't too suspicious yet,from what Lopunny had told me, they were blaming their luck or something.
They weren't checking the area.
They thought it was just misfortune.
Perfect.
Hidden in the tall grass, I watched silently as they worked, their attention locked on the damaged tires.
I glanced at Lopunny and let out a faint smile.
"Let's go," I whispered. "Next trap."
Lopunny nodded once, ears flicking forward with focus.
We slipped away quietly, staying low in the tall grass, while the poachers stayed busy with their tires.
Every step was silent, hearts pounding, but we kept moving, toward the spot I'd already picked for the second trap, a bit farther away down the trail.
Time was on our side now…
Lopunny and I moved far ahead to prepare the next trap.
Once there, Lopunny started digging a hole.
She couldn't use DIG, so she relied on her raw strength instead.
Lopunny crouched low and started working with her strong legs.
She used Double Kick… quick stomps with both feet, one after the other… to break up the soft dirt.
Each kick pushed her feet into the ground, loosening big clumps quietly, just soft thumps lost in the wind.
Then she used Low Kick, sweeping her legs low in wide arcs.
The side of her foot scraped the loose dirt away, making a shallow hole across the trail.
In just a few minutes, she had created half a dozen wide, bowl-shaped pits…
,the trail deep enough to trap a truck wheel.
No loud noise.
No big mess.
Just quiet, strong work from her powerful legs.
She followed up with careful Ice Beam attacks, aiming low and controlled to freeze a thin layer at the bottom of each pit, just enough to hold the shape for a moment.
Next, I released Ponyta and asked her to help.
She lowered her head carefully, flames flickering soft and yellow from her mouth,
…warm flames licking the thin frozen layer at the bottom of each pit.
The ice melted evenly, turning to water that soaked into the loose soil below.
Soon the dirt turned into thick, deep mud, sticky and heavy, the kind that would suck in anything heavy.
I quickly scattered loose grass, dirt, and leaves over the pits, pressing them down lightly with my hands to make everything look natural again.
From a distance, the trail looked untouched.
Normal.
Safe.
It wasn't.
Once we were done, I recalled Ponyta with a soft flash of red light.
She vanished back into her ball, safe and resting.
Lopunny and I slipped far away, back into deep cover among the tall grass.
We crouched low, hidden completely, watching and waiting.
…
It took them about twenty-five minutes to replace the tires,
…cursing the whole time.
When the trucks finally started moving again, they rolled slow and careful for maybe five minutes.
Then the lead truck hit the softened ground.
The front wheels sank suddenly with a wet SQUELCH, the whole vehicle lurching nose-down as thick mud swallowed the tires halfway up the sides.
"Shit…stop!" the driver yelled, slamming the brakes.
The second truck tried to stop sharply,
…but it was too late.
Its wheels dropped into the next hidden pit, sinking just as deep.
Mud splashed high as the engine roared in vain, tires spinning uselessly.
Both trucks were stuck now, side by side, buried in thick, sucking mud.
The men shouted louder, panic creeping into their voices as they jumped out again.
This time they knew it wasn't just bad luck.
"This ain't random!" one shouted.
"Someone's out there, doing this on purpose!"