The title of the stream was a calculated hook. To harvest emotional data, Cliff needed eyes on the screen, and nothing drew a crowd like arrogance backed by a massive payout.
If he lost, he'd be out $100,000. But to Cliff, that wasn't a risk, it was a marketing expense he'd never have to pay. Losing was not an option. He didn't just understand the game; he understood the flaws in its very soul.
As he edited his team and queued for Doubles, the matchmaker worked its magic. Doubles offered more tactical depth than Singles, synergies, field control, and target switching, making it the preferred tier for anyone who actually understood battle theory.
His first few opponents were... tragic. One kid, whose ID was [Bug-types are the Best!], led with a Beedrill and a Dustox. His entire team consisted of early-route bugs.
I appreciate the dedication, kid, Cliff thought, looking at his own Pidgeot, which was EV-trained for maximum Speed and Attack and equipped with a Choice Band. But you really should have considered type coverage.
The Pidgeot didn't just win; it deleted the bugs from the server. Cliff breezed through his first ten matches, his rank points surging to 1,950, just one win away from the 'Great Ball' tier.
As his win streak hit 10, the viewer count climbed to nearly eighty. The skepticism in the chat was palpable. "Zero-cost Master Ball? Keep dreaming." "If you hit Ultra Ball, I'll gift you a Rocket right now." "He's just fishing in the kiddie pool. Wait until the algorithm pairs him with a real player."
Cliff didn't waste time typing. He simply opened the platform's official giveaway tool and locked in the $100,000 prize. The moment the "Verified Giveaway" icon appeared, the atmosphere shifted from mockery to predatory anticipation.
"Alright, the prize is locked by the platform," Cliff said, his voice calm and professional. "100% win rate, or I pay up. Welcome to the show."
The matchmaking timer ticked past ten seconds. Then, a match was found.
The opponent's avatar was a silhouette with a red cape, and the ID screamed in a dynamic, flashing red font: [WORLD'S STRONGEST DRAGON].
The chat exploded. "OH DAMN! A RED-NAME!" "It's a whale! Every Red-Tier Pokémon unlocked!" "RIP the $100k. You just matched with a god-tier spender."
Cliff leaned back. A "Red-Name" meant the player had spent hundreds of thousands of PokéDollars to unlock the rarest dragons in the game. He didn't care. He was about to show this whale that a "Talented Individual" could harpoon anything.
Goldenrod City, Johto.
In the study of a private villa, a man with vibrant red hair and a black-and-red cape sat before a high-end PC. He radiated the aura of a natural leader. This was Lance, former Champion of Kanto and Johto, and current member of the Elite Four.
Lance was in a good mood. Red had recommended this game as a way to pass the time between League meetings, and it was surprisingly fun. He enjoyed the freedom to use Pokémon he hadn't raised in the real world.
The low-tier matches had been a bore, and he was eager to climb the ranks to see if he'd run into old acquaintances like Cynthia.
The match notification popped up. He looked at his opponent's avatar, a pitch-black silhouette, and read the name aloud.
"Talented Individual?"
Lance's lips curled into a faint, competitive smirk. "Let's see if your talent matches your confidence."