Chapter 115: Sensei, We Meet Again
Steven's expression had arrived somewhere beyond "unusual" and was making its way toward "genuinely unprecedented."
He was certain about the identities — Team Magma's leader Maxie and Team Aqua's leader Archie, no question. But—
Who on earth filmed this.
He checked the poster ID.
Photographer Mammon.
Again. The same account that had posted Wallace's fashion series.
He was either completely fearless about being traced, or he genuinely didn't care that Officer Jenny's technical team existed. Possibly both.
"Wallace — look at this."
He forwarded the link.
"What is it?" Wallace opened it.
Then:
"This just proves what kind of person this Mammon is! Look at poor Maxie — having to endure this! The indignity!"
Wallace spoke with impressive moral conviction for someone whose face was visibly fighting a smile.
Psychology was a funny thing. Suffering alone was simply suffering. Suffering with company — that was a shared experience. A community.
The fact that his own situation had been documented and circulated was still deeply unfortunate. But the leaders of two Hoenn criminal organizations being filmed in a physical altercation and posted for public consumption? That was a different category entirely. That was someone else's humiliation on the internet for everyone to enjoy.
Wallace's soul had found its footing again.
"..." Steven watched his best friend scroll the comments with barely-suppressed entertainment, and chose not to say what he was thinking.
(The criminal organizations fought each other, which is arguably good for the League. And also funny.)
"Stop looking at the comments and look at the uniforms."
"Hm?" Wallace glanced up with clear eyes.
"Archie's outfit."
Wallace pulled the video back up and actually looked this time.
"Black fitted uniform. And — there's an 'R' on the chest."
His eyes went sharp in an instant.
Team Rocket's uniform. Which meant Archie had already been absorbed. And if Archie had been absorbed, Team Aqua's rank and file were certainly gone too.
"How long has it even been?" Wallace was genuinely bewildered. "He just surrendered? The man is useless."
Not that he had any affection for Team Aqua. But the speed was staggering — Team Rocket had barely arrived in Hoenn and the local criminal leadership was already wearing the badge.
And in the video, the context was clear: Archie in Team Rocket uniform, helping Team Rocket take down Team Magma. The local organizations working against each other on behalf of the outsiders instead of presenting any kind of unified front.
"Magma and Aqua were never going to amount to anything serious. You think they'd have stopped Team Rocket?"
Steven rested his chin on his hand, thinking.
From what he understood, Phoebe had once crossed paths with Archie, and even she hadn't been able to decisively finish the fight — which meant Archie had genuine Elite-Four-tier capability. That was the caliber of person who had just defected, and then actively turned on his former rival on Team Rocket's behalf.
A Hoenn Team Rocket that had absorbed both organizations was considerably more substantial than the one that had arrived a few days ago.
"Wallace — let Jenny's office know. And tell Sidney and the others to intensify the search. We need to find the bases and locate these executives before this gets further out of hand."
Steven's voice had taken on the particular gravity it reserved for things that actually required it.
"Already on it."
Wallace had his phone out. This was the conversation he'd wanted to have since the moment he'd opened his eyes yesterday morning.
Steven leaned back, exhaling. He'd stepped away from the Championship a little over a year ago. Hadn't expected to be dealing with this quite so soon after.
But here they were.
First things first. Dinner, then planning.
The following day.
The Contest Spectacular venue in Slateport was filled.
Mammon and Caitlin found seats in the audience together. He hadn't expected to find the event genuinely interesting — Contest training was a discipline with different priorities than combat training — but as a spectator, it had its appeal.
What he hadn't expected was to discover that Wallace and Steven were also present.
(Wallace's judge instincts had apparently become irresistible, and he'd recruited Steven to come along.)
A coincidence that was improbable enough to be funny.
Mammon observed from across the venue. A few days had done wonders for Wallace's disposition — the man was radiating his customary composed brilliance again, the earlier devastation apparently metabolized. And whatever the photo series had done to his reputation, it had demonstrably done something to his popularity — when Wallace and Steven entered as special guests, the crowd's reaction was extraordinary.
"CHAMPION WALLACE, I LOVE YOU!!"
"Marry me Champion Wallace — I'm a man but I'll accept anything — cross-dressing is valid, we support you—"
"When's the SECOND fashion series dropping?!"
"I literally cannot believe I'm seeing Champion Wallace in person — I'm not okay—"
Wallace navigated the more spectacular declarations with practiced grace, keeping his smile exactly where it needed to be and his expression impervious to the content of the words reaching him.
The Slateport Contest Spectacular ran in two stages.
First stage: performers and their Pokémon executed move combinations for aesthetic impact — judges scored style, elegance, creativity. High scorers advanced.
Second stage: the finalists were matched against each other in paired battles, but the evaluation wasn't purely combat — elegant execution in both offense and defense could drain an opponent's point total even without landing a decisive hit. Raw superiority could end things quickly, but finesse counted.
Mammon knew the outcome before the second stage finished, because he spotted May in the lineup.
Chestnut hair. Clear, sweet features. Pink dress that suited the occasion. She'd entered with a Beautifly, and the Beautifly's presentation was excellent — obvious care had gone into its development.
Of course she's here.
"She seems somewhat out of her category," Caitlin observed. "Once she reaches the second stage, this becomes rather straightforward for her."
"Personal interest, probably." Mammon smiled.
The Contest's first stage had genuine quality — several performers were worth watching. But the second stage played out more or less as expected: May's opponents lasted two or three exchanges at most before Beautifly's offensive capability became the deciding factor.
King dropping into a silver-tier match. Efficient.
Wallace presided over the award ceremony himself — stepping forward to hand May the ribbon with the particular warmth he reserved for genuine talent.
"Your performance with your Beautifly was extraordinary. The bond between you — it was visible in every sequence."
"Thank you so much, Champion Wallace! I'm actually a battler primarily — and I'm such a huge fan of yours! This is — I can't believe I'm meeting you!"
May held the ribbon with both hands, visibly moved.
"A battler who enters Contests." Wallace's smile was genuine. "Then I look forward to watching you at the Lilycove Grand Festival."
"I'll win it! And then I'm coming to challenge you!"
She said it with a grin that was completely open and completely certain — not bravado, just fact. The kind of confidence that came from having done the math and liked the answer.
Wallace paused.
Something about it reached him — the brightness, the directness, the complete absence of any performance. Just a girl with a goal and no doubt that she'd get there.
This kind. This was the kind of successor he'd been waiting for without knowing it. A trainer who made you actually want to face them, want to watch what they'd become, want to be there when they arrived.
"What a luminous smile," he said softly, and meant it. "The Hoenn League will be waiting for you."
"There's one more thing I wanted to ask!" May leaned in conspiratorially, voice dropping just a bit.
"Go ahead." Wallace's smile remained.
"Your photos — when are you dropping the second set? And when I come to challenge the League, could we maybe do a collab shoot together? Like, me in casual clothes and you in your outfit from the first photo — the white dress one? You looked so beautiful in it, I—"
Wallace's smile stopped working.
"Ah." He cleared his throat once. "That series is... currently on indefinite hiatus."
"Awww — so unfortunate!"
It is not unfortunate. It is the correct outcome. It is the only outcome that should ever exist.
Wallace completed the award ceremony with flawless professionalism, delivered the appropriate closing remarks, and prepared to exit the stage.
And then his gaze traveled over the audience, and stopped.
A black-haired boy in the seats. A young woman in a white-and-pink dress beside him.
Wallace's expression underwent a very specific transformation.
The black-haired boy noticed and looked back at him.
Smiled.
Clapped.
Said something. His lips moved. Wallace couldn't hear it over the crowd noise.
But his eyesight was exceptional.
He read the lip movement clearly.
"Sensei. We meet again."
YOU—
YOU ARE NOT MY SENSEI. NEITHER OF US ARE ANYONE'S SENSEI. YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY IS NOT MY SENSEI—
Wallace's face had gone from composed to a very specific shade of pink.
But he caught himself.
No. Don't get angry. Getting angry is not the play here.
He's here. He's right there.
And Steven was backstage.
Today was different from Jagged Pass. He wasn't isolated, hadn't been ambushed, and had his team with him. He had backup with actual Champion-level capability this time.
Caitlin was one target. Steven could manage her.
That left Mammon — and Wallace would handle that personally.
Wallace met Mammon's eyes across the venue with the particular calm of someone who had been planning this since the moment they'd stopped being able to move their feet.
Hunter's instincts: activated.
Today, I get to make him take a photo series.
One hundred sets.
☆☆☆
-> 20 Advanced chapters Now Available on Patreon!!
-> https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Inkshaper
(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access patreon normally)
If you like this novel please consider leaving a review that's help the story a lot Thank you