Linoone let out a low growl, stomping its four paws firmly against the ground. Its sleek form once again transformed into a blur of light, hurtling forward just inches above the earth.
The Extreme Speed technique was unleashed once more.
Its sharp claws gleamed with a cold, steely light as it charged straight toward Metagross.
At that very moment, Metagross activated Bullet Punch once again.
Its four arms began to glow with an intense white light. Empowered by the combined boosts of Agility and Magnet Rise—and further propelled by the force of its Psychic energy—
Metagross's attack speed reached a level never before witnessed.
Its four massive metal arms moved like four high-speed machine guns, raining a barrage of blows down upon Linoone!
This time, Linoone could no longer evade completely!
A rapid succession of heavy, metallic impacts rang out.
Metagross's Steel typing naturally grants it a built-in resistance to Normal-type attacks—a defense further bolstered by its Iron Defense ability.
Although Linoone had pushed its Attack power to the absolute limit, the impact of its strikes against Metagross was drastically mitigated.
Linoone, by contrast, fared far worse.
The Extreme Speed technique had already drained a significant portion of its stamina; now, as it was repeatedly pummeled by Metagross's Bullet Punches, each individual blow felt like the crushing impact of a heavy hammer.
As Metagross delivered its final, crushing blow, Linoone let out a cry of pure agony.
His body went flying backward like a broken accordion, crashing heavily onto the ground; after struggling twice, he lay motionless.
In the center of the arena, Metagross hovered in mid-air; the white sheen on its metallic back gradually faded, while a crimson glow radiated across the entire venue.
Although its breathing was slightly labored, its imposing aura remained undiminished.
The stands fell silent for a full three seconds, poised to erupt at any moment.
Then, a tidal wave of cheers surged forth:
" Metagross can *fly*?! That's absolutely incredible!"
Spectators in the stands couldn't help but gasp in amazement. A sea of mobile phones rose up, their lenses trained on the Metagross hovering in the air, as camera flashes merged into a single, blinding sheet of light.
"It was definitely worth the trip! With this kind of power, no wonder he defeated Gym Leader Norman!"
People waved their arms excitedly, their faces glowing with burning passion.
The chat feed in the live stream room became a dense blur of messages:
[Holy cow! That Bullet Punch was insanely fast! It moved with the precision of a machine—there was absolutely no way to dodge it!]
[Suddenly, it feels a bit familiar... That style of flight—why does it look like I'm seeing a shadow of its days as a little Beldum?]
On the sidelines, the small boy with the tiny Beldum could no longer contain his excitement; he sprang from his seat, clenching his little fists tightly, and shouted toward Norman:
"Go Don't give up!"
Speaking thus, Norman turned his gaze toward the young boy and offered a helpless smile, then turned to face the battle:
"Never mind; there's no need to waste time. Given the state your Metagross is currently in, my Vigoroth stands no chance against it.
"However, according to the official rules—which require a challenger to defeat the Gym Leader's final three Pokémon—I suppose I should at least send it out to go through the motions."
"Come out!"
As he spoke, Norman tossed the Poké Ball he held in his hand.
A flash of red light erupted, and a towering figure—covered in white fur with a tuft of red hair sprouting from the crown of its head—materialized on the battlefield.
It was Vigoroth.
True to its name, this creature simply could not sit still for a single moment.
It bounded back and forth across the arena—one moment scratching its ears, the next scratching its mouth—bursting with an almost absurd amount of energy.
Its thick, powerful arms moved with lightning speed, and its eyes blazed with unbridled excitement, looking as if it were ready to charge in and pick a fight at any second.
Its fighting spirit was at its absolute peak.
Yet, just as Norman had predicted, Metagross was currently bolstered by multiple stat-boosting effects—such asAgility andDouble Team—leaving it in an absolutely formidable state.
Facing down Vigoroth, Lionel didn't even bother having Metagross execute a complex move; he simply issued a calm, concise command:
" Metagross—finish it."
Metagross's silhouette blurred; shooting forward like an arrow released from a bowstring, it delivered a swift, clean tackle that struck Vigoroth dead-center.
Vigoroth didn't even have time to react before it was sent flying through the air, crashing to the ground where it immediately fainted.
The entire battle lasted less than ten seconds.
The referee immediately announced:
" Vigoroth is unable to battle! The challenger, Lionel, is victorious! The challenger has earned the Gym Badge!"
A staff member stepped forward, carrying an exquisite wooden display case. Inside lay a yellow, Normal-type Gym Badge—etched with the likeness of aSlaking.
It was the symbol of the Petalburg Gym.
However, at that moment, no one in the room cared in the slightest about the Gym Badge itself. The spectators in the stands could no longer contain their excitement; they rose to their feet, waving their arms and chanting:
"Slaking! Slaking!"
"Let Slaking come out!"
"We want to see Slaking!"
Even the little boy at the sidelines was swept up by this infectious frenzy; the unhappy look he wore just moments ago—after his father had "hooked" him away—vanished completely.
Joining the crowd, he began chanting, "Slaking! Slaking!" his small face beaming with excitement and anticipation.
Norman extended his hand, palm facing downward, and gently pressed it into the air.
The boisterous stadium fell silent as if a mute button had been pressed; in an instant, absolute stillness descended, and every eye in the arena focused squarely upon him.
Then, Norman turned his gaze toward Lionel, his tone shifting to one of solemnity.
"Your Milotic possesses recovery skills, does it not?"
" Metagross need not withdraw just yet. Let Milotic tend to its wounds first; once it has fully recovered to its peak condition, it may then face off against my Slaking." Lionel seemed taken aback for a moment, but Norman continued:
"I know you've crossed paths with Elite Four Member Moore before. However...
Her Blaziken is merely a Pokémon he's been training recently—a newcomer to his team. It isn't considered one of his mainstays. My Slaking, on the other hand, is a true Elite Four Level."
He paused briefly, a flicker of pride flashing in his eyes:
"It is a companion that has journeyed alongside me every step of the way, right up to this very moment. Only your Metagross—in its current peak condition—can truly stir its fighting spirit.
Come on, let's not waste any more time! Hurry up and have Milotic help restore Metagross's stamina!"
The moment Norman uttered these words, Larvesta immediately took offense.
The little creature began squeaking indignantly, pointing a tiny limb in Norman's direction as if to curse him for her "arrogant boasting."
It was so furious that it actually leaped into the air, then headbutted the Milotic—which had been hovering idly nearby, watching the spectacle with detached amusement—urging it to hurry up and assist the Metagross.
In Larvesta's eyes, Metagross was its "personal steed"; to look down on Metagross was to look down on *it*!
Milotic, which had been hovering gracefully amidst a veil of mist, instantly grasped the situation after being prodded by Larvesta. With a flick of its tail, it swiftly glided toward the edge of the battlefield.
Although Milotic typically possessed a gentle nature—never one to seek conflict or vie for attention—even *it* felt a twinge of displeasure upon hearing Norman's remarks:
What did she mean by "only"... "...manage to stir up even a *tiny* bit of fighting spirit?"
One must understand that Metagross is no mere casual partner; it is a cherished companion.
Furthermore, in its current state—at peak performance—even a Milotic would be hard-pressed to stand a chance against it, let alone defeat it.
To claim that facing *this* opponent could only stir up a "tiny bit" of fighting spirit was, quite frankly, an insult to its capabilities.
A soft green glow began to emanate from Milotic's body.
The "Water of Life" gathered and took shape, falling upon Metagross like a gentle, warm drizzle.
As the healing water touched Metagross's body, it instantly seeped beneath the surface, transforming into a warm, restorative energy that coursed through its entire being.
Moments later, Metagross's labored breathing gradually steadied.
Its previously depleted stamina recovered at a rate visible to the naked eye, and the crimson glow within its optical sensors once again burned with sharp, focused intensity.
Only when Metagross had fully returned to its peak physical condition did Milotic retreat to the sidelines.
Milotic bounced excitedly beside Lionel, shaking her head—causing the little fireball atop her hat to bob—as she eagerly settled in to watch the unfolding spectacle.
*That guy actually dared to look down on my partner? Just wait—I'll make sure he gets a firsthand taste of just how terrifying a Metagross can be!*
Seeing that Metagross's recovery was complete, Norman finally reached up to his forehead and retrieved a Poké Ball, his fingertips tracing the smooth surface of the sphere for a brief moment. Then, with a sudden, powerful motion, he hurled it forward:
"Come forth—Slaking!"
The red-and-white Poké Ball snapped open in mid-air.
A blinding flash of light—more brilliant than any seen before—shot skyward.
A heavy, resounding *thud* shook the entire battle arena; even the spectators seated high in the stands could feel the tremors rumbling beneath their feet.
As the light subsided, a Pokémon of colossal proportions materialized before their eyes.
Lionel stared in astonishment, mentally shouting, *Holy crap!* This particular Slaking was nearly as massive as his own Tyrantrum.
Its body was covered in thick, dark-brown fur, and its musculature was incredibly defined—every single muscle bulging with explosive, raw power.
Unlike the lazy, lethargic Slakings typically depicted in illustrations and guidebooks, this one's eyes blazed with fierce intensity. The most formidable presence remained menacing.
At this moment, it lowered its head slightly, fixing a steely gaze upon the Metagross.
Its jaws parted slightly, revealing razor-sharp teeth and exuding an aura of sheer, unbridled ferocity.
The moment Lionel laid eyes on it, he was reminded of the Silverback Gorillas he had watched in nature documentaries back in his previous life.
It was domineering, savage, and brimming with primal wildness.
Upon seeing the Slaking's appearance, Metagross instantly recoiled. It slowly backed away toward the wall, taking cover behind Lionel, leaving only half its head exposed as it peered out.
To its senses, the power surging within this particular Slaking was akin to a slumbering volcano—a force of unimaginable magnitude.
This sensation was *identical* to the aura it had perceived from that mysterious scale back at Meteor Falls!
The overwhelming pressure caused its five optical sensors to retract sharply; it hunched its body defensively, shedding every last shred of its former arrogance.
Milotic, too, reined in its aura, its usually graceful posture shrinking slightly. It stared intently at the Slaking, having sensed a level of power unlike anything it had ever encountered before.
Lionel's system interface automatically displayed the Slaking's information:
[Pokémon: Slaking]
[Type: Normal]
[Classification: Lazy Pokémon]
[Ability: Unknown???]
[Moves: Fire Punch, Ice Punch, Thunder Punch, Focus Punch, Mega Punch, Mega Kick, Amnesia, Facade, Rock Tomb, Slash, Swagger, Body Slam, Rest, Sleep Talk, Snore, Rock Slide, Focus Blast, Giga Impact, Retaliate, Earthquake, True...]
Lionel gazed at the lengthy list of moves—a list so long it practically spilled off the screen—and his pupils contracted slightly.
This was, without a doubt, the Pokémon with the most extensive move set he had ever encountered. From Fire, Ice, and Electric types to Fighting, Rock, and Ghost... it encompasses almost every elemental affinity—it can even master the Dragon-type move, Outrage!
Let alone Cynthia's Garchomp; even Steven's Metagross pales in comparison when it comes to move diversity.
Most notably, the Slaking's Ability is listed as "Unknown"—a stark contrast to the "Truant" ability typical of ordinary Slakings.
Metagross fixed its gaze upon the rampaging giant ape across the field, its ruby-red eyes burning with intense focus.
It could distinctly sense that the energy coursing through its opponent's body was like a boundless ocean;
All the victories it had claimed against past opponents seemed as insignificant as a mere stream in the face of such overwhelming power.
Upon catching sight of Norman's Slaking, the spectators in the stands could no longer contain their excitement; a frenzied roar of adoration erupted instantly. Cheers
The roar of the crowd nearly blew the roof off the Gym:
"It's the Slaking! Norman's ace Pokémon, Slaking, has appeared! I'm absolutely obsessed!"
Meanwhile, the comments flooding the live stream chat were surging like a tidal wave:
[Holy crap! *This* is a Slaking? Did they send out the wrong Pokémon? It looks like a completely different species compared to the Slakings I've seen before!]
[Those muscles are absolutely ridiculous—damn! They're even bigger than my Machoke's! That's just insane!]
[Just looking at it gives me such an overwhelming sense of pressure. Come on, Metagross—you can do it!]
At that very moment, Slaking suddenly raised a massive, thick finger. It curled it toward Metagross in a beckoning gesture—a move brimming with sheer provocation.
" Metagross, use Body Press!"
Lionel wasted no time.
He knew full well that against an opponent like this, playing defensively would only lead to a more humiliating defeat; only by taking the initiative and striking first was there even a glimmer of hope for victory.
Metagross had already completed the stacking of its Triple Iron Defense, boosting its physical defense to the absolute limit.
Upon receiving the command, its four arms—each radiating an expressionless intensity—sank downward in unison, channeling every ounce of its physical power into a single point.
The speed boost granted by its high-speed levitation sent Metagross's body shooting forward like a wound-up spring-loaded projectile, perfectly fusing its momentum with the power of the Body Press technique.
That raw physical strength was instantly converted into terrifying kinetic energy.
The air itself seemed to rip apart, emitting a piercing, ear-splitting shriek.
In that instant, Metagross transformed into a high-velocity, interstellar cannonball; trailing a streak of white afterglow in its wake, it hurtled ferociously toward Slaking!
Power.
This single strike embodied the absolute pinnacle of physical might that Metagross was capable of achieving in that moment.
*BOOM!*
An ear-shattering explosion of sound erupted right in the center of the battlefield. The raging energy materialized into a swirling white mass, engulfing—
—and submerging more than half of the battlefield.
The entire stadium shook to its very foundations.
In the stands, spectators instinctively clutched the railings, their faces etched with sheer awe.
Behind Lionel, a Larvesta cautiously poked out its head, stealing furtive glances at the scene; a Milotic, too, tensed its body, staring with palpable anxiety into the heart of the smoke.
Amidst the billowing dust and mist, two indistinct, shadowy figures could be faintly discerned—locked in a fierce, tangled embrace.
A few seconds later, as the thick smoke gradually dissipated, the sight revealed on the battlefield caused everyone to gasp in collective shock:
Slaking stood with its arms crossed protectively across its chest—as if it had suddenly conjured an impenetrable barrier of steel.
It had—through sheer, brute force—successfully withstood Metagross's Pounce attack: a strike imbued with the compounded power of Triple Iron Bash and Agility.
Despite having taken a direct hit from a super-effective Fighting-type Pounce, Slaking's demeanor suggested it had suffered absolutely no damage whatsoever.
The ground beneath its feet, however, had been utterly pulverized. Two deep fissures had ripped open in the earth, gouging further backward with every inch of Metagross's relentless forward momentum.
"This... how is this possible?"
In the stands, some of Lionel's fans cried out in disbelief, their light sticks slipping from their hands and clattering to the floor.
No one had imagined that Metagross's Pounce—the very attack that had so effortlessly one-shotted Slakoth and Vigoroth moments earlier—would be parried so easily by Slaking.
At that very instant, Slaking threw its head back and unleashed a deafening, ferocious roar!
"ROOOAR!"
The roar exploded like a sonic boom; the spectators in the stands couldn't help but instinctively cover their ears.
Amidst the thunderous bellow, Slaking exerted every ounce of its strength; the veins on its massive arms bulged and twisted—a knotted network of raw, surging power. It actually withstood Metagross's attacks head-on, and began to slowly push forward!