Poliwrath froze in place, its previous rage having long since dissipated, replaced by a shuddering chill that seeped deep into its bones.
Ariel watched it, his mind racing with calculations.
The battle had already been decided, ending with Sharpedo being torn apart.
Continuing to tangle with this Pokémon that had lost its fighting spirit would serve no purpose in honing his combat awareness.
He glanced at the pile of mangled flesh on the deck before turning his gaze back to Poliwrath's eyes, which were filled with despair.
"Malamar."
His voice was calm, devoid of any emotional fluctuation.
Even though adrenaline was still surging through his body, he had quickly reined in the frenzy of the battlefield.
"Go to Brother Chao and find its Poké Ball."
Malamar moved upon command, its tentacles sliding precisely toward Brother Chao's slumped corpse.
The tentacles deftly searched the inner lining of the deceased's damaged clothing; after a moment of rummaging, it quickly hooked a blue-and-white Poké Ball from his jacket pocket.
The sphere was stained with a mixture of blood and seawater, yet its standard-issue appearance remained recognizable.
Malamar handed the ball to Ariel.
Ariel took the ball, weighed it in his hand, and then with a flick of his wrist, tossed it into the air.
Mega Gyarados, still bathed in a halo of violent energy, caught the trajectory of the Poké Ball with its blood-red eyes.
Without the slightest hesitation, its massive body moved, its thick tail fin whipping up a current of water to smash the spinning sphere in mid-air with overwhelming force.
"Crack!"
A sharp, piercing snap instantly drowned out the howling sea wind.
Under the staggering impact, the Poké Ball shattered into pieces; plastic fragments mixed with droplets of blood rained down onto the deck.
Poliwrath's body spasmed violently, letting out a suppressed wail of grief as if it had foreseen an irreversible fate.
The sense of security it had relied upon vanished into thin air along with that broken ball.
Ariel took a brand-new Poké Ball from his waist—red and white, the most common standard model.
He held it up, the ball's surface reflecting a cold, hard luster in the sunlight.
"Poliwrath,"
He looked directly at it, his tone flat but carrying an unquestionable pressure.
"This is your last chance. If you dare to struggle, your end will be the same as Sharpedo's."
He tilted his chin slightly toward the remains of Sharpedo; the threat in his words was direct and cruel.
He did not intend to incorporate this Poliwrath into his core team.
Its attributes and tactical style did not fit with his existing Pokémon system.
However, a Gym Leader Level Pokémon, even one from a defeated enemy, had a value that could not be underestimated.
It could serve as a bargaining chip for future trades, a sparring partner for his other Pokémon, or even an experimental resource.
Leaving it to fend for itself or killing it outright would be far too wasteful.
In Ariel's dictionary, efficiency and value always came first.
Poliwrath's gaze darted between Ariel, the shards of the broken Poké Ball, and Sharpedo's gruesome corpse.
Its massive body trembled slightly, a flicker of struggle appearing in its eyes, but ultimately, that struggle was replaced by a deeper sense of despair and submission.
It understood that the human before it was not joking; his words were a sentence.
Ariel pressed the button on the Poké Ball, and a red beam shot out, instantly enveloping Poliwrath.
The Water-type Pokémon's body shook violently within the beam, letting out a few low growls; its strength was weak, and it soon settled down.
The light gradually retracted, the ball shook violently a few times, and finally, with a 'click,' it sealed shut, signaling a successful capture.
Ariel weighed the Poké Ball in his hand, a faint, imperceptible curve tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Capturing Pokémon... it's not that hard."
He muttered to himself, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
"I don't understand how those guys who throw a bunch of balls and get nothing manage their training."
With Poliwrath captured, the bloody and tense atmosphere on the deck seemed to dissipate.
The violent energy surrounding Mega Gyarados rapidly withdrew, and its massive body shrunk, returning to its non-Mega Evolved form.
It turned into a streak of red light and retreated into its Poké Ball.
Ariel also recalled Malamar.
However, the moment he finished all of this, a sudden wave of dizziness slammed into his mind.
The world before him began to distort, and the horizon where the sea met the sky became blurred.
A dull pain throbbed in his head, as if an invisible force was draining the strength from his entire body.
His legs went weak, unable to support his weight.
He stumbled, trying to steady himself, but the weakness came too fast and too hard to resist.
"Splash!"
With a dull thud, Ariel's body lost its balance and fell straight into the icy seawater.
The bone-chilling cold instantly enveloped him, briefly clearing the fog in his mind, but then, an even stronger wave of dizziness and powerlessness swept over him.
His heavy clothing dragged him down, and the salty seawater choked his nose and mouth.
A deep blue figure moved as fast as lightning.
Greninja had leapt into the sea almost the same moment Ariel fell in.
It moved silently, as natural as a fish in water, accurately grabbing Ariel's arm with one claw and effortlessly hoisting him up from the churning waves.
As Greninja brought Ariel out of the water, its sharp eyes inadvertently swept across the surface.
A silver briefcase, somewhat scuffed on the surface but otherwise intact, was floating nearby.
Greninja didn't think twice; it reached out with its other hand, snatched the case, and then swam off into the open ocean.
...
When Ariel woke up, he saw an unfamiliar ceiling.
The white plasterboard was smooth and flawless, with a soft ceiling light embedded in the center, casting an even glow.
He blinked, trying to focus, but his head felt like it was filled with lead, so heavy that he wanted to close his eyes again.
Beneath him was a soft mattress, the texture delicate and infused with an indescribable fragrance.
This wasn't his room.
Where was he?
His mind was a chaotic mess; his memories were like a scattered puzzle, fragments strewn about, unable to form a complete picture.
He moved his fingers and felt a wave of weakness; every muscle in his body felt as if its strength had been sapped away.
This total sense of weightlessness made him feel the same kind of confusion Mewtwo had experienced when first arriving in this world.
Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?
Before long, a tall figure stepped closer.
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