Chapter 117: The Former Champion Says: You Can Always Count on Me
Steven was feeling a particular kind of pressure he hadn't experienced in a while.
He was the kind of person who could say "in the end, I'm the strongest one here" with complete composure — and mean it. But Steven was also genuinely analytical, and the situation was clear.
They were outnumbered.
"Wallace — I'll take Mammon. You hold the other two."
He said it quietly, keeping his voice down.
"Hold the—" Wallace blinked. "Both of them? By myself?"
"I need to assess Mammon's capabilities directly." Steven exhaled. "The file on him is incomplete. I need firsthand data."
The logic was sound. Of the three, Mammon was the clearly critical variable — the one who had taken Wallace apart before and still had Mewtwo in reserve. Steven needed to understand what he was working with.
Caitlin was dangerous, but the intelligence file had detail on her. The new arrival — the Salamence girl — was an unknown, but at least an assessable unknown.
Mammon himself was the actual problem.
"You're saying I have to fight two people simultaneously." Wallace processed this.
"You'll be fine. You just need to buy time."
"I will not just—" Wallace caught himself. Took a breath. Thought about it practically.
He was the current Champion. He was Wallace. He hadn't gotten here by falling apart under pressure.
Stalling. Two opponents simultaneously. I can do this.
"Big Rice Sensei," he said to himself internally, with some irony. You can always trust me.
He straightened up.
"Fine. I'll manage the two of them. Watch yourself with Mammon."
"Always."
"Are you two finished?" Mammon called over pleasantly. "I can give you more time if you need it. No rush."
"We're ready." Steven stepped forward.
"Glad to hear it." Mammon's Poké Ball clicked open.
"RAAAAARRGH—!"
The Tyranitar hit the ground like a structural event, its landing shockwave traveling outward as an actual pressure wave. It raised its head, studied Wallace and Steven with contemptuous yellow eyes, and roared again — this time with enough resonance to feel it in the chest.
"Oh." Kagura had produced a Pokédex from her pocket and was consulting it with genuine curiosity. "Tyranitar. Rock and Dark. Armor Pokémon. Notes indicate: When Tyranitar goes on a rampage, it causes mountains to crumble and streams to run dry. Maps must be redrawn after the fact."
She looked up at it with appreciation.
"That's a solid entry."
It was a shame about the Dragon-typing gap, but the aesthetic case for Tyranitar was undeniable.
"One thing worth knowing," Mammon said to Kagura, in the pleasant tone of someone sharing useful career information. "In an organization like ours, Tyranitar, Salamence, and Hydreigon are essentially standard issue for senior executives. The look matters."
"Salamence is a villain's Pokémon?" Kagura glanced back at her Salamence with some bemusement.
The animal did have a certain aggressive charisma, she had to admit.
Caitlin, without comment, was mentally reviewing her own roster and arriving at similar conclusions.
I should probably look into this.
"Metagross. Let's start carefully."
Steven was direct. His partner materialized — massive, silver-blue, eight legs finding purchase with absolute precision. The Metagross fixed Tyranitar with the expressionless gaze of a Pokémon that approached everything analytically.
Wallace, meanwhile, found himself facing Caitlin's Tapu Lele and Kagura's Salamence, his Milotic and Gyarados deployed in response.
"It's an honor to meet you in person, Champion Wallace." Caitlin's smile was the composed, aristocratic kind. "Allow us to show you the error of your current path."
She said it without irony — genuinely meaning it, in some way Mammon would probably find entertaining.
"You two young women have let yourselves be misled by a very bad person," Wallace said, with equal sincerity. "Allow me to guide you back toward something better."
"Oh?" Kagura's eyes sharpened to something predatory. "Show me what you've got, then."
"Both of you at once? Absolutely." Wallace flicked his cape with practiced elegance. "Come ahead."
I, Wallace, the Hoenn Champion, cannot lose to two young women.
Absolutely cannot.
"Tapu Lele."
Caitlin's voice was soft. Tapu Lele raised both hands.
Psychic Surge. The pink-purple field rolled out across the ground, and the terrain shifted around them.
Salamence's wings spread wide. A roar that didn't carry any pretense of restraint shook the air, and then it was diving for Gyarados — eye-to-eye combat between two Pokémon that both looked like they'd been designed with "intimidation" as a primary goal.
The battle was engaged.
"Tyranitar. Too bad for Metagross — type matchup is against you, isn't it."
Mammon glanced briefly at the Wallace-side battle and returned his attention to Steven.
"Type matchup isn't the whole picture," Steven said evenly. "And Tyranitar has its own liability against Metagross."
Fair point. Metagross's Psychic typing was neutralized by Tyranitar's Dark typing — the immunity was real. But Metagross ran on Steel, which covered everything else, and the Fighting weakness that Tyranitar carried was very much in Metagross's vocabulary.
Steven was deliberate. He wanted information first.
"Bullet Punch."
Metagross's priority strike — Steel-type, fast. A scouting move.
"Dragon Dance."
Tyranitar settled into the ancient rhythmic pattern. Faint blue light circled it.
Metagross's Bullet Punch was fast, and it closed the distance in an instant — the flurry of impact hits landed on Tyranitar's armored frame in rapid succession.
Tyranitar made a sound that suggested mild inconvenience. It finished the Dragon Dance.
Defense is exceptional, Steven noted. Took a super-effective priority move while completing a setup move. High physical bulk.
"Meteor Mash."
Metagross wound back its right arm, the deep metallic glow building as it charged — then drove forward with a strike that looked like a falling star hitting ground.
"Payback."
Tyranitar grinned.
It let the Meteor Mash land — absorbed the hit with a grunt — and then the counterattack came: Dark-type, the payback hit harder for having taken a hit first.
CRACK.
The two attacks collided and traded. Metagross rocked backward. Tyranitar didn't.
Steven's expression tightened slightly.
"That's a very sturdy Tyranitar."
"Thank you." Mammon sounded genuinely pleased. "Metagross is formidable — but Tyranitar outclasses it on physical durability."
"The battle isn't decided yet." Steven was calm.
"Of course not." Mammon was equally calm. "But your partner over there might be."
He nodded sideways, just barely.
Steven looked.
"..."
Gyarados had just taken a Thunder from Tapu Lele and was in the process of separating from the sky at speed. Milotic was pinned under Salamence, who was delivering follow-up strikes with focused enthusiasm.
Wallace was sweating.
"Steven." The call came from across the field. "I'm having some difficulty."
Ten minutes. Not even ten minutes had passed.
Steven looked at his best friend.
Wallace's expression was one of a person who had made a confident statement earlier in the evening and was now watching it be tested by reality.
"Steven." Wallace's voice was carefully modulated. "I may have slightly... overestimated my ability to stall two people simultaneously."
"You said you could."
"I said probably."
You didn't say probably, Wallace.
"You specifically said 'you can always trust me.'"
Wallace opened his mouth. Closed it.
The Gyarados hit the ground.
"...Steven."
"Yes."
"I think we might have a problem."
Steven turned back to Mammon, to Tyranitar, and to the very comfortable expression on Mammon's face.
He exhaled once, slowly, through his nose.
Analysis: We are losing on both sides simultaneously.
Revised assessment: not probably. Probably not.
☆☆☆
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