"Boom—"
A column of thick smoke shot into the sky, and the ground was a wreck.
A fight had just finished here.
"Hahaha! There's no end to them, there's no catching them all."
Ambrose laughed as he cleared the field. With Vance doing the work, he and his two Pokémon only had to lend a hand at the edges and coast along.
No danger to life, and a full haul. Who wouldn't like that?
Naturally, then, clearing the field fell to him. This "painful" work could hardly be allowed to trouble his boss — a follower knew his place.
"Here you are, boss. Point cards, 125 points in total. And these are the Poké Balls — one Pokémon of Advanced strength, four Intermediate, twelve Novice, and the rookies......"
"Put it away. Keep it on you for now."
Vance cut him off before he had finished his report, telling him to hold on to it himself.
"Right you are."
Ambrose put the things away, all eagerness.
This was what came of picking the right boss: easy work, good returns.
"Counting it up, our time on the trial ought to be about up."
Vance said it quietly. Time had gone fast; a month on Trial Island had passed in what felt like no time at all.
"It is. Today is the thirtieth day. We'll be leaving in the next day or two."
Emery agreed from beside him, his expression easing a little. The trial was finally over and they could leave this place.
The latter part, spent with Vance, had been a great deal easier, but the first twenty-odd days had been wretched, spent in constant fear, one wrong step from death.
"By the way, Vance, shouldn't we be keeping our heads down about now? Running into that lot would be a real nuisance, especially at this point."
Emery said it in warning. Trouble tended to come in the last day or two.
The competition ahead might no longer be between people and Pokémon, but between people and people, or group against group.
"Mm, I know."
Vance nodded. He was not afraid of it, but avoiding trouble was better than not.
Things did not go as he would have liked. With the field cleared and the three of them ready to move on, a group of people arrived on the scene.
"Hahaha! Vance, Emery — the three of you, stay right where you are."
Rufus laughed loudly and sprang out with a pack of followers behind him.
He had wondered who it might be, and it turned out to be Vance and Emery — a pair of complete pushovers.
So Rufus had jumped out without a second thought. This one was as good as in the bag.
Everyone in their intake of Team Rocket recruits knew Vance had picked a Magikarp. You could not say it had no combat ability at all; you could only say it had a very little. He had performed well enough in training, but what was that worth? Anything at all? Not a thing.
As for Emery and Ambrose, they had some strength, but not much. Rufus could hold the pair of them down with one hand.
"Heh heh heh. Listen carefully. I won't take your lives. Just hand over your packs and let me have a look. I'll take what's worth taking and let you go on your way."
Rufus said it loudly, then thought of something and went on.
"You wouldn't want Wilder finding out you're here, would you, Vance? Be quick about it and I'll cover for you this once — won't breathe a word to anyone. Heh heh. Cooperate."
"Awooo—"
At his feet a Mightyena obliged with a low snarl, which carried a fair amount of menace.
The handful of followers beside him chimed in to back him up.
When it was over, Vance's expression was odd. Ambrose was chuckling beside him without a trace of alarm, and Emery looked entirely unbothered.
That left Rufus a little confused. Something about this did not feel right. What was going on? In the normal course of things, weren't the three of them supposed to panic and hand over their belongings through gritted teeth, or else fight to the death?
As it was, it left him slightly embarrassed.
"Is it that I'm too good-looking? Haven't got the air of a robber about me? Mm. Being this handsome really is its own burden." He smoothed his hair back as he said it, lost in himself.
"In that case I'll just have to handle it myself. Leave them a little of their supplies, mind."
"Look, I've no choice. That damned Vigoroth robbed us blind a while back, so a bit of robbery is all that's keeping us going."
"B... boss."
"What is it? What's the panic? Shaking like that — where's your dignity?"
Interrupted mid-reverie by the follower behind him, Rufus snapped at him. Could they not be like him, and do everything with a bit of style?
"N... no, boss, look ahead of you, that..."
"That what? Remember: Mt. Silver could come down in front of you and your face should not change." Rufus was still lecturing when he turned his head and saw a familiar shape.
That powerful frame, that muscled body, that nightmare of a face — even after all these days he still remembered the beating he had taken that day.
"B... bloody hell — Vigoroth! What... what are you doing here?!"
Rufus shrieked it. Like the followers behind him, his body was shaking and his legs had gone weak under him.
Even the Mightyena at his feet had lost its swagger and lay flat on the ground, trembling.
It remembered too — being pinned down by that Vigoroth and ground into the dirt.
In an instant the Vigoroth was in front of them, grinning wide.
"Aaaah—"
Several wretched howls rang out through the area. People and Pokémon alike were flat on the ground again, bruised and swollen again, fresh injuries laid on top of old ones that had not yet healed.
"Five hundred-odd points, that's it? Pfft. Paupers."
Ambrose gathered up the supplies and cursed.
All that swagger, and he had taken the man for someone with money. It turned out he was broke.
Rufus felt thoroughly bleak. Not only had the robbery failed, he had been robbed himself, and mocked for being poor into the bargain. He put his face to the ground and scooped dirt over it with both hands. He could not face anyone.
"Leave them some supplies. Let's go."
Vance said it and paid the group no further attention.
The three of them packed up and left.
"Boss, I think they've gone."
The follower beside him pointed it out.
"Mm. I know."
"Then, boss, why is your face buried in the dirt?"
"Biding my time. You wouldn't understand."
Rufus's answer came out muffled.
"So what do we do now, boss? The little we had left is gone too."
The follower said it with a face like a funeral.
"Don't panic, it's a small matter. When heaven is about to lay a great charge upon a man, it first embitters his mind and works his bones to exhaustion, starves his body and leaves him destitute, and throws everything he sets his hand to into confusion. So the hardship in front of us can only make us stronger!"
Rufus sat up off the ground and said it with stirring passion.
"But..."
"There is no but. Without the bitter cold cutting to the bone, how would you ever smell the plum blossom? A moment's hardship can only sharpen our will. Beaten again and again, we fight again and again. Our potential is enormous, and if we keep at it success is not far off!"
Under that rousing address the men beside him seemed to recover their morale.
They patched themselves up and set out once more on the road to success.