Chapter 200: I Can't Beat Kyogre — Can You?
"Groudon and I have a reasonably good relationship."
Giovanni smiled, his voice carrying its characteristic composed quality.
This wasn't entirely disingenuous.
In the immediate aftermath of getting "waterlogged to a pregnant belly" by Primal Kyogre, Groudon's temper had been volcanic — no other word for it. It had been genuinely on the verge of forcing its way out of the ball to go directly at Kyogre.
Its exact phrasing: the fat fish humiliated me. I can't let this go.
Giovanni had, through considerable effort, talked it down. He'd even found a deserted island and fought it directly — just to give Groudon somewhere to direct all that, and to demonstrate that he was capable of handling the confrontation.
No Primal Reversion, naturally.
The fight's outcome was neither here nor there — but afterward, Groudon had grudgingly conceded that Giovanni had earned the right to be its trainer.
What had really cemented it was learning that Giovanni was Mammon's father.
Groudon's internal logic, as far as Giovanni could piece it together: my trainer is the father of the fat fish's trainer. So as my trainer's Pokémon, that makes me the fat fish's grandfather-figure.
Seniority. Hierarchy is everything.
"Impressive, as always." Leon nodded admiringly.
"In that case, this becomes straightforward." Steven relaxed slightly. "With Groudon under control, our current lineup can take down Team Plasma without much trouble."
The only real pressure point against Plasma had been N's Zekrom. With controllable Groudon now on the board, plus multiple Champion-tier fighters — dealing with Plasma was practically routine.
"The problem is finding Team Plasma's base," Cynthia pointed out, isolating the most immediate practical obstacle.
"I have Ghetsis's contact information."
Alder had been waiting for a moment where he could contribute something.
Left unchecked, it was going to start looking like he was just a passenger in his own region's crisis, with Steven and the others doing all the actual work.
Not yet winning, technically. But still.
"...You do?" Leon blinked. So did most of the room.
"He gave it to me when N extracted him. He wanted to cooperate with us against Team Rocket."
Alder explained, keeping the distaste out of his voice through effort. He'd never been inclined toward that particular arrangement — Team Plasma was not a noble organization, however Ghetsis tried to package it.
But the situation was what it was.
"Then invite them to a meeting — and take them down at the table." Wallace's suggestion was immediate and without hesitation.
"I'll reach out." Alder was decisive about it. He pulled out his phone and dialed the number Ghetsis had left.
Two rings.
The line connected.
"Who is this." A flat, distinctly unhappy voice.
"Ghetsis. It's Alder."
"...Champion Alder." A brief pause. Something shifted — mild surprise, then something calculated. "I see you've given it some thought."
Ghetsis had been in a very poor mood lately. Mammon's arrival, the humiliation, and then losing Colress — a man he'd considered his most valuable asset, gone, to the very person who'd insulted him.
He'd had his people searching for Mammon's location at high intensity for days.
He hadn't let go of this. Not at all.
Yes — Mammon was strong. Yes — he'd casually dismantled N and Zekrom. But Ghetsis still had cards to play.
Before Colress had finished burning his bridges, he'd delivered three Genesect to the castle. Including one shiny specimen with combat capability measurably above the others.
Three Genesect. Plus Zekrom — once it had recovered.
Against Primal Kyogre, that combination wasn't obviously guaranteed to lose.
Ghetsis was not built for swallowing humiliation. Three times now — the insults, the loss, the theft of Colress. He was going to make Mammon pay for all of it, and he was going to make Colress understand the magnitude of his mistake.
Team Plasma was better than Team Rocket.
"Ghetsis. I'm sure you heard about Nimbasa. Your Zekrom lost to Mammon."
Alder's voice was low, careful. He wasn't announcing his intentions directly — that much was obvious to Ghetsis anyway. No need to put pressure on directly.
Ghetsis was not a fool.
"Heh... heh heh." The laugh was thin, humorless. He was visibly irritated, even over the phone.
"Yes. Zekrom did lose to Kyogre. But let me ask you something, Champion Alder."
His tone sharpened.
"We couldn't beat Kyogre. Can you?"
If the League side had any actual answer to Mammon and his Kyogre, why would they be calling Ghetsis at all?
"You don't need to take that tone with me, Ghetsis. Taking out frustration on me now?"
Alder let a smile appear in his voice, keeping the irritation underneath it deliberately audible.
The others in the room looked at each other with quiet appreciation. The man was a genuinely experienced performer when he chose to be.
Ghetsis's expression soured further — not at Alder, specifically.
"I'm not interested in arguing with you either. Team Rocket's threat is too significant for this to drag on. Lend us the black dragon."
"Champion Alder." Even Ghetsis couldn't quite hold back a short, flat sound at this. "Is that a joke?"
The implication was completely transparent. Alder didn't want a real cooperative arrangement — he wanted Zekrom's combat power without giving Plasma anything in return.
"Even if I send N to help your side, that addresses the Kyogre problem exactly how? You don't have what you need. You're not being sincere."
Ghetsis's eyes moved, calculating.
"Then what do you want?" Alder's voice went harder.
"This isn't a conversation for the phone. Meet me in person. Talk seriously. With genuine cooperation between our sides, we can finish Team Rocket."
Ghetsis pressed his advantage.
He wanted more from this deal. With League backing, he was confident he could end Mammon.
And as for the possibility of ambush at the meeting — he'd considered it. But the League couldn't function without Plasma's cooperation in this situation, and he was going to show up with N and three Genesect. What was Alder going to do about that?
He knew the League had brought in Steven and Wallace from Hoenn. Two more Champion-tier fighters. Fine. His side could handle that.
"Easier than expected." Alder ended the call and looked around the room.
"Ghetsis is a little less sharp than I'd hoped for."
"Given how far he's built Team Plasma, you'd expect better instincts," Giovanni observed, mildly. "No real sense of danger. Walking voluntarily into a League-arranged meeting. He's simply overconfident."
"Works in our favor." Leon kept his arms crossed, smiling.
Alder exhaled.
One problem at a time. Handle Plasma first, then figure out Rocket.
It was the conclusion they'd reached together.
Icirrus City.
"Hydreigon—!"
The final Earthquake from Mega Gyarados landed, and Nora's Hydreigon finally couldn't hold on anymore.
"That was incredible~!"
Touko's admiration was entirely genuine. The Hydreigon was new to Nora's team, compatibility still developing — but its baseline strength was there, and it had still been completely overwhelmed from start to finish. Mega Gyarados's style of fighting had been relentlessly aggressive, and watching it swat aside Hydreigon's Dragon Pulse with a Water Tail was the kind of image that stuck in the memory.
"Mega Evolution really hits different, huh."
Nora walked over after recalling her Hydreigon, looking up at the Mega Gyarados up close. The presence at this range was something else.
"That's the thing — and after Mega Evolution, the typing actually changes to Water/Dark. No more 4x Electric weakness."
Mammon smiled.
"Really?! Wait—" Nora's eyes went wide. "Oh wow, that's really clever—!" She already liked Mega Evolution. She liked it more now.
"So how does it actually work? What do you need for it?"
"A Mega Stone that matches the specific Pokémon, and a Key Stone held by the trainer."
Mammon walked through the requirements for Nora and Touko both. Elesa listened attentively from nearby.
"Okay, that's going to be a journey." Nora pressed her fingers to her temples. The Pokémon-specific Mega Stones alone sounded complicated to track down.
"It is. You'd want to decide which Pokémon you want to Mega Evolve first — then work backward from there." He was already sure she'd been running mental calculations about her Serperior.
They talked for a while longer before eventually saying goodbye — Mammon's group headed back to their hotel.
And then—
Caitlin watched Elesa follow Mammon into his room without expression.
She closed her own door.
Ridiculous woman. Hmph.
"Should I draw your bath, Mr. Mammon?"
Elesa had finished making the bed and looked over at him.
"Go ahead." Mammon answered, glancing at a message from Giovanni on his phone and raising an eyebrow.
The League's planning to move on Plasma. Interesting.
"I'll run the water."
Elesa walked into the bathroom and stood there for a moment, looking at the towels with an expression of deep internal conflict.
The guide she'd read earlier had included a section about helping with bathing. Which raised the question of just how far "excellent maid" work actually extended.
If Mammon had ideas—
She'd already been braced for considerably worse when she'd agreed to this. But this specific scenario—
"What are you doing."
Mammon stepped into the doorway, finding her staring into the middle distance.
"I — um—"
"Scrub my back in a moment. Once you're done, you can go."
He said it the way someone might say "bring me a glass of water" — completely matter-of-fact.
"...Yes." Elesa let out a quiet breath.
He really does have limits. Good. That was fine. She could do this.
The back-scrubbing itself was awkward, and she emerged from the bathroom afterwards with her face doing something she actively had to suppress. He'd had a towel around his waist. Everything else had not been covered. And the proximity was—
Elesa ran cold water over her face at the sink, waited for the heat to dissipate, and then — after an internal debate — took off her jacket and got into the bed.
I am in a strange man's bed.
Warming it. In summer.
She pulled the blanket up over her face.
"What exactly are you doing."
Ten minutes later, Mammon came out of the shower to find an unexplained lump in his bed.
Elesa's head emerged from the blankets.
"Your bath is finished, Mr. Mammon." She kept her voice as dignified as possible. "Please allow a moment — the bed isn't quite warm enough yet."
"Who told you to warm the bed in summer?"
Mammon looked at her, then looked away, and appeared to be having some kind of internal struggle.
Elesa froze.
"...Also. Open the blanket for a moment."
She didn't follow the logic, but complied — and in doing so, presented a rather complete picture of the elegant, long-limbed Gym Leader lying on her side, very visibly outlined through her clothes.
"You didn't even change. You just got directly into my bed in your street clothes."
He stared at her.
"...I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."
"Fine. Remember for next time."
A pause.
"But—"
Mammon's expression shifted into something with a slow, quiet edge to it. He lay down on the bed.
"Wait — Mr. Mammon, don't—"
"Consider this your penalty for not changing first. You're my pillow tonight."
His voice was utterly reasonable.
"I told you — I have limits. Nothing is going to happen."
"That's not the—"
"EH?!"
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