Celadon City, Celadon Game Corner, Team Rocket base.
In this pitch-black shaft where you couldn't see your hand in front of your face, Grey had no idea how long he'd been riding; all he could think was that this elevator Team Rocket had built was way too ridiculous.
Pulling something like this right under the League's nose, and it still hasn't been discovered after all this time!
Once this mess was over, he really had to have a word with whoever was in charge down here.
Zzzzz…
The elevator screeched with a harsh grind of metal, then finally came to a clanging stop at the bottom level.
The moment the doors opened, a surge of danger rushed straight at him.
All around him, more than a dozen Electrode were packed in tight.
Their spherical bodies flickered with a frantic white light as they let out a nerve-wracking series of beeps.
"Oh? Explosion again? Do you Team Rocket guys seriously not have any other tricks?"
Seeing such a familiar setup, Grey couldn't help remembering when all he could do in the face of this tactic was barely defend himself.
Those days were long gone. He was a completely different person now.
"Poliwhirl, I'm counting on you."
"Poli~" (Got it~)
Right at the brink of detonation, Poliwhirl sauntered forward at an unhurried pace.
The spiral pattern on its round belly suddenly lit up with a soft, watery blue glow.
Damp mist spread at a speed visible to the naked eye, and in the blink of an eye a thin film of water had gathered across the floor.
The agitated Electrode were like they'd just had a bucket of cold water dumped on them; the frantic white light on their bodies instantly wilted.
A few of them even let out a couple of pitiful crackles, rolled into the corners, and stopped moving altogether.
They were done for, folks.
"Sigh, how boring. If that's all you've got, you'd better surrender while you can. Otherwise you're just in for a beating and a trip to a jail cell."
Grey stepped out of the elevator, looked straight at the sweeping surveillance camera, and rolled his shoulders.
"I don't care if you're Proton or that idiot Petrel—if you don't have anything impressive up your sleeve, then by the time I find you, you'd better crawl over and let me arrest you personally. Otherwise…"
Before he could finish, the surveillance camera went dark and stopped swiveling, as if the power had been cut.
Clearly, whoever was on the other end didn't want to listen anymore.
Thump, thump, thump…
Urgent footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor as three Team Rocket grunts in black uniforms rushed in.
The big guy on the left crossed his arms into an X, the lanky one in the middle knelt on one knee, and the short one on the right was doing a handstand against the wall, both legs spread in a scissor pose.
They locked into a triangular formation, black boots striking the floor in a neat rhythm.
The burly one jabbed a finger at Grey's nose and snarled, "How dare you trespass in Team Rocket's base—your good days are over!"
The lanky one rose slowly, pupils fixed on Grey. "Intruder, your journey ends here!"
The short one clapped eagerly. "The boss and Number Two are totally right!"
It was obvious these three were a squad.
However…
It also seemed like they hadn't had much contact with the outside world for a long time.
"You guys… seriously don't recognize me?"
Grey considered himself at least a little famous out there, yet this trio had charged up first thing, looking every bit like they were planning to pin him down here for good.
The burly man snorted and said carelessly, "Huh? Who are you supposed to be? The newly appointed Elite Four of the Kanto region?"
The lanky one held his arm up next to Grey's for comparison. "With those skinny arms and legs, you think you're Elite Four? Passing Daisy over at the Cerulean Gym next door would already be a miracle!"
The short one started applauding again. "Number Two is totally right!"
The three of them bounced lines off each other, even coming with their own comedy routine.
Grey scratched the back of his head and said to them, "Alright then—show me what you've got."
"Hah! Running into us is your bad luck! I choose you, Hitmonchan!"
"Hohohoho, Hitmonlee, show this guy how strong you are!"
"Boss, Number Two, I'll back you up! Hitmontop, use that agile body of yours to make this intruder bow down before you!"
As three Poké Balls hit the floor, Grey saw three Pokémon he knew all too well.
Hitmonchan, Hitmonlee, Hitmontop!
"We're Team Rocket's strongest Fighting-type trio! Even Elite Four Bruno would need three solid hits to beat us!"
"Well? Scared yet?"
"The boss is totally right!"
"Aren't you getting a little too into your bit? That line really fit here?"
Even Grey was getting a bit dizzy from the short guy's constant "supporting role" routine. He raised his hand and called out, "Any one of you, go deal with them. One move each is enough."
They were just low-level Team Rocket grunts. They probably weren't even on the level of the small fry from the S.S. Anne—Ash could beat this kind of bunch in a few moves.
"The hell, that's looking down on us way too much!"
The burly man on the left bulged a vein on his forehead and slashed a hand down. "Boys, hit him with everything you've got! Hitmonchan, Thunder Punch!"
"Hoho~ Hitmonlee, Blaze Kick!"
"Boss, Number Two, I'm in too! Hitmontop, use Triple Axel!"
All three Fighting-type Pokémon exploded into action at once.
Hitmonchan raised its arm, lightning bursting from its clenched fist; a heavy punch wrapped in crackling current ripped through the air!
Hitmonlee leapt high, flames roaring to life under his foot as he dove at Grey like a falling meteor!
Hitmontop spun into a human-shaped top, both legs and tail gleaming with a chilling sharp light as they carved a shrill whistle through the air!
"And here I thought you might have something impressive. So it's just this?"
Grey didn't even bother to lift his eyelids. "Those three… any one of you, go handle it."
For small fry like this, he felt that even giving explicit orders was already giving them more respect than they deserved.
"Qi-ha!" (A job this good obviously goes to me!)
Annihilape let out a roar. The fur on its forehead suddenly stood on end, flaring up like ghostly blue-white flames.
Inky black ghost-type energy surged from every pore.
Its arm rose high and, empowered by that ghostly rage, swelled to several times its normal size in an instant!
Boom!!!
A heavy blow wreathed in eerie spectral energy launched later yet landed first, carving a violet-black afterimage through the air!
The power of Rage Fist burst free from its body and smashed straight into the trio's unleashed signature moves; almost the instant they collided, the three Hitmons were sent flying and slammed hard into the far wall.
They only stopped moving once they'd embedded themselves there.
"Th-this…"
The burly man still wanted to say something.
Swoosh!
A flash of white light lanced toward him, but instead of the pain he'd braced for, a wave of inexplicable drowsiness washed over him.
"Breloom." (I thought they'd be tough, but they're just a bunch of pushovers.)
Breloom, whom Grey had sent out, tugged the brim of its mushroom cap down as if adjusting a hat. After feeding the burly one and the lanky one a nice mouthful of Spore, it turned its gaze on the short one.
"Boss! Number Two!"
The short man broke down in tears, dropping to his knees and pounding the floor, cursing his own uselessness.
"What? You planning to avenge them?"
Grey narrowed his eyes and pulled out an Ultra Ball.
"N-no, no way!"
The short man scrambled to his feet and said obsequiously, "Boss, I know where Manager Proton is. Please, come with me!"
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