Chapter 54 - Three-Million-Dollar Hotshot.

Odin casually ran his fingers through his long black hair, pulling the loose strands back to adjust the complete mess left behind by the high-speed highway chase. He took his time, cleanly tying it back into a half-updo before throwing his blood-stained uniform coat over his shoulder.

All around the perimeter of the brightly lit underground hangar bay, a bunch of low-tier Grunts were doing standard guard duty, desperately trying to log some hours to farm Team Rocket points. The second the engine cut out, every single one of them completely ignored Odin's existence and sprinted straight toward the custom sport bike, desperately offering to help Ariana get off the saddle, carry her gear, and do her bidding.

"Fucking simps," Odin muttered under his breath, his slitted purple eyes rolling in pure disgust.

Ariana didn't even blink at the groveling fodder. Instead, she chose that exact second to pull a calculated power play designed to stroke Odin's ego and artificially inflate his authority right in front of the lower ranks. With a seductive, lingering smile, she elegantly raised her slender hand directly toward Odin, ignoring the crowd as she asked him to give her a hand getting down from the bike.

Odin's cynical grin returned in full force. He played along perfectly, stepping forward like a prince to take her soft hands, smoothly helping her down from the seat. The display instantly triggered a massive wave of envious, tight-jawed gazes from the surrounding Grunts. But nobody complained, and nobody stepped out of line to cause trouble. This wasn't some garbage Chinese Wuxia novel where every background trash extra is actively courting death over a woman. These losers were just low-level fodder; Odin was a full-fledged Officer, and Ariana was a Executive. The grunts smartly shut their fucking mouths and backed away.

Before the simps could even step back into their guard patterns, Ariana aggressively grabbed Odin by the collar of his shirt, pulling his tall frame down to bury her face in his, forcing a deep, highly passionate, and incredibly sloppy kiss right in front of the hangar lights.

She finally broke the kiss, letting go of his clothes as she wiped a thread of wet saliva from her lips. "I'll bring you straight to the lounge first. Wait there for me, baby. Your shoulder is heavily injured from the bite, and you're actively bleeding through the fabric. I'll go locate our resident Nurse Joy, organize a clean medical kit, and get some stuff sorted out. Then I'll come pick you up myself. You can go see Angel right after that."

"This entire underground place is a goddamn maze," Odin flatly drawled, looking down the dark corridor arches. "Bring me there yourself."

"I literally just said I was bringing you there, you impatient bastard," Ariana purred, her eyes rolling with heart-shaped amusement.

"Just making sure, boss babe," Odin sneered.

Ariana turned on her heel, guiding him away from the sport bike and leading him straight through a long, clinical concrete hallway. They took a couple of sharp turns past heavy iron blast doors before eventually stepping inside a large, reinforced elevator block. She reached her black-gloved hand out and firmly pressed the button for the absolute highest floor—which was still buried deep underground beneath the bedrock of Pewter City.

Odin leaned his back against the steel wall, letting out a lazy chuckle. "This is actually my first time taking the elevator inside this facility."

"What? For real?" Ariana gasped, her head snapping around in genuine surprise. "Did you seriously only hang out at the front center desks where you take standard field missions, sell off your wild captured Pokémon's, or buy market supplies?"

"Yup. Never saw much of a need to waste my time exploring anywhere else," Odin said, thoroughly amused by her shock. "I know there's a barracks block, a cafeteria, and a bunch of other corporate shit down here, but I never needed it. My routine is simple: get Pokéballs... catch high-potential Pokémon... get filthy fucking rich. Then I go back to Angel... get some premium seven-star high-class food, get my dick sucked, get a nice night of sleep, and repeat the cycle."

"Waaawww... someone is living the good life," Ariana drawled out, her voice dropping into a dangerous, slow rhythm. She stepped forward, completely invading his personal space until her chest was practically pressed against his torso, her warm breath washing over his neck. "Must be incredibly nice having a shit ton of constant luck... constantly stumbling across premium, high-potential Pokémon in the wild. You even managed to drop a Platinum-Potential asset right out of nowhere. Or... is it... really just luck? Is that really all it is? Hmmm... mysteries, Fate, destiny, luck... is that really all there is to your little routine, Officer?"

Her sharp eyes seemed to pierce straight through his skull, looking directly into his very soul and hunting for his hidden secrets. She definitely knew something was entirely up with his methods. Odin didn't blink, his dead black gaze remaining completely hollow; he obviously wasn't about to tell this crazy woman that he possessed a literal system interface in his head.

Luckily for him, Odin didn't even need to formulate a lying answer. Ding. The elevator chime violently cut through the suffocating tension as they reached the designated floor. The heavy steel doors slid open, revealing a couple of clueless Grunts standing on the platform, staring directly into the cabin.

To the eyes of those lower-class rookies, the scene inside the elevator looked like an intimate, highly explicit corporate scandal—like a dominant female Executive using her power to sexually harass a lowly, bleeding Officer against the wall. But those idiots couldn't have been further from the truth.

Ariana didn't give them a microsecond of her attention. She smoothly took Odin's hand, locking her fingers with his as she walked out of the elevator. The terrified Grunts all bowed respectfully at a perfect ninety-degree angle toward her before hurriedly scrambling inside the cabin to escape her presence.

A few steps down the corridor, they officially reached the Lounge Room. The room functioned as a massive waiting area, a resting block, and a high-stakes entertainment room for the higher-ranking and low ranking members of Team Rocket. The air was thick with the scent of expensive alcohol, cigarette smoke, and roasted food. There were large groups of criminals scattered across the floor—some were playing cards and gambling with stacks of cash, some were watching a massive flat-screen TV mounted on the far wall, some were just chatting, and a few couples were actively kissing and making out on the leather couches.

The lounge was packed with a mix of Grunts, standard Officers, high-ranking Elite Officers, and there was even one feared Team Rocket Captain sitting near the bar. But at this exact moment, the typical rowdy shouting and gambling noise was completely dead. Every single person in the room—from the lowest fodder to the Captain—was deeply, intently invested in the TV screen. They were watching the broadcast so fiercely that nobody even noticed Odin or the Executive enter the room.

Ariana leaned in close, her red lips brushing against Odin's earlobe as she whispered quietly through the noise of the television. "Wait right here for me, baby. I'll be right back. I'm gonna go grab you a nurse joy, secure a clean set of uniform clothes... and you seriously need a shower. You stink like raw gasoline and burnt meat."

Before he could drop a sarcastic reply, she grabbed him by his collar one final time, pulling him in for another deep, passionate kiss that left him breathless. She pushed his chest away gently, winking at him seductively before turning around and swaggering back down the hallway, her hips swaying as she left him alone in the lounge.

Odin stood frozen for a fraction of a second as the heavy lounge door clicked shut behind Ariana. For the first time since he had transmigrated here, he was to mingle with a bunch of strangers.. a sudden, unfamiliar wave of social anxiety pricked at the back of his neck. He had never actually mingled among the syndicate's crowded inner circles like this. He didn't know a single soul in the room; he wasn't buddies with any of these low-lifes, and every face under the harsh neon lights belonged to a ruthless, transactional criminal.

But Odin was a sociopath, and his mind didn't allow vulnerability to linger for long. He quickly collected himself, his expression freezing back into its natural, deadpan indifference. He casually shoved both of his hands deep into his uniform pockets, squared his shoulders despite the bleeding gash from the bite he recieved from Weezing, and started swaggering directly toward the center of the room to check out whatever the fuck had these degenerates so violently interested. Besides, in a den of wolves like Team Rocket, it was all about projecting absolute confidence anyway. You couldn't look like a scared little cat—not like he was actually capable of being intimidated to begin with, of course. But appearance and composure were the only things that kept people from testing your throat.

As his heavy boots crunched over the linoleum, he steered his tall frame right past a group of low-ranking Officers, his eyes locked onto the massive flat-screen TV on the far wall. The volume was turned all the way up, the anchor's frantic voice cutting straight through the heavy scent of tobacco and booze.

Suddenly, the screen flared with a bright, high-definition broadcast logo as the network feed stabilized.

"We disrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you an urgent, unfolding catastrophic crisis straight from the Kanto regional grid," a remarkably gorgeous, pristine news anchor announced, her voice carried a sharp, professional panic that immediately echoed off the lounge walls. She was standing in ,front of a sweeping digital backdrop of the Mount Moon mountain range, her professional posture immaculate despite the sheer weight of the text she was reading. "This is KBC News—the Kanto Broadcasting Company. I am your host, Celia Vance, broadcasting live from our central hub. Over the last several hours, a localized Red Alert has been officially declared across the northern sector of Route 3, following what authorities are describing as the single most devastating rogue Pokémon massacre in Kanto's modern legal history."

"God damn, look at the tits on that KBC anchor," a burly Officer sitting near the front gambling table muttered, leaning back as he took a heavy swig from his beer bottle. "If the world's ending, I sure as hell want to spend my last minutes burying my face right between those pristine tits."

"Shut the fuck up and let her speak, you horny bastard," an Elite Officer snapped from the corner, his hand tapping aggressively against his holster. "Listen to the shit she's dropping."

The television screen cut away from the studio, flashing a series of recorded aerial videos taken from League surveillance aircraft. The footage was harrowing. Massive, billowing columns of thick, pitch-black chemical smoke were violently bleeding out of the upper fissures and caves of Mount Moon, completely choking out the evening sky in a dark, ominous shroud.

"Initial data streams verified by League medical teams on the surface paint a truly horrific picture of the carnage that unfolded in this mountain," Celia Vance continued, her tone dropping into a somber, heavy register as the screen displayed graphic, pixelated images of charred cavern floors and shattered gear. "A single, wild Weezing has reportedly gone completely berserk within the middle levels of the mountain range. According to emergency responders, this lone monster has systematically conducted a merciless slaughterhouse run through the tunnels, leaving an estimated four hundred plus Pokémon confirmed slaughtered or critically mutilated in its wake."

A collective, low murmur of dark laughter and impressed whistles rippled through the Team Rocket crowd.

"Four hundred?" a Grunt near the bar grinned wickedly, nudging his buddy. "Holy shit. What kind of nuclear-grade steroids did they feed that gas balloon? That's not a Pokémon, that's a literal biological weapon."

"The human cost is equally unprecedented," the anchor's voice cut through the grunt's laughter, her expression tightening on the screen. "As of ten minutes ago, the League Bureau has officially confirmed forty-two trainers dead on the scene, with over twenty-five survivors currently suffering from severe third-degree chemical burns and acute toxic inhalation inside Pewter General Hospital. The rogue Weezing has reportedly deployed an unidentified, highly volatile fuel compound, effectively burning the entire internal infrastructure of the mountain down to ash. A regional Red Alert is now fully active across all bordering routes, and the Kanto League has just authorized an unprecedented five-million-pokédollar dead-or-alive bounty on the head of this specific Weezing."

The anchor paused, shifting her notes as a sharp, investigative graphic flashed beside her shoulder, displaying the blood-red Team Rocket emblem.

"KBC investigators have just received confirmation from ranking League authorities that this catastrophic incident is heavily suspected to be directly orchestrated by the Team Rocket syndicate," Celia Vance stated coldly. "Eyewitness accounts from escaping civilian trainers report that organized Team Rocket cells were directly spotted operating deep within the crime scene during the peak of the slaughter. Furthermore, regional database experts note that the Koffing and Weezing evolutionary lines are almost exclusively utilized and trained by high-ranking criminal organizations, leading the League to believe this was a pre-meditated act of domestic terrorism designed to cripple the Pewter sector's resources."

"Hell yeah it was!" a Captain sitting near the back bar counter barked out, raising his glass of whiskey toward the ceiling as a wide, arrogant smile split his face. "Let those soft, League-worshipping sluts freeze in fear! If the boss ordered that mountain to burn, then it burns! Good to see our boys are out there putting in real, bloody work!"

"Wait, look at the screen," an Officer muttered, his eyes narrowing as the video feed suddenly glitched, transitioning to a live, shaky camera feed on the ground outside the mountain borders.

"We are taking you live to the perimeter of Route 3, right outside the primary entrance of Mount Moon," Celia Vance announced, her voice now competing with the distant, deafening wail of emergency sirens and the roar of local police cruisers. The camera focused on her standing behind the yellow police barricade tape, her perfectly styled hair whipping wildly against her face as she clutched her microphone tight. "Moments ago, Gym Leader Brock of Pewter City mobilized an elite tactical strike force, personally leading two highly decorated groups of professional, high-level elite bounty hunters into the burning cavern vents to terminate the monster known as Weezing. But wait—our camera crew is tracking a sudden movement near the main gate. Something is happening right now!"

The camera violently jerked to the left, the lens focusing through the thick, drifting grey smog. The cameraman began to sprint forward, his boots crunching over the loose gravel as he struggled to keep pace with the anchor girl, who was aggressively ducking under the police tape.

Emerging from the black mouth of the smoking tunnel was a single, towering silhouette. It was Gym Leader Brock.

The lounge went completely dead silent. Every criminal in the room leaned forward, their breathing slowing to an halt.

Brock looked like an absolute disaster area. The usually stoic, rock-solid Gym Leader was heavily bruised, his clothes torn to shreds, and his entire upper body covered in a thick layer of grey dirt, soot, and wet ash. His face was contorted into an expression of pure, unadulterated fury mixed with a deep, sorrowful defeat. He was walking with a heavy, dragging limp, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were stark white through the grime.

"Gym Leader Brock! Gym Leader Brock!" Celia Vance screamed out, sprinting directly into his path and aggressively thrusting the KBC microphone right toward his face. "Live for KBC News! Please, tell the citizens of Kanto—has the rogue Weezing crisis been successfully resolved? Was your strike force able to neutralize the monster inside the mountain?!"

Brock stopped dead in his tracks. He lifted his head, his slitted eyes flashing with a raw, dangerous anger that made even the Grunts in the lounge slightly shift their footing. Every single time the reporter girl pressed a question, she would shove the microphone straight to his mouth, forcing his ragged, deep voice to echo with perfect clarity through the television speakers.

"No," Brock answered, his voice a low, raspy growl that dripped with a heavy, sorrowful weight. "The Weezing case has not been taken care of. And the monster is no longer inside the mountain."

"What happened within the tunnels, sir?" Celia pressed instantly, her professional demeanor unyielding as she kept the microphone locked beneath his chin. "Was the creature too powerful for your elite team to subdue? Are you injured? What is the current status of the two professional bounty hunter squads that accompanied you into the sector?"

Brock let out a heavy, ragged breath, his teeth gritting so violently that the microphone picked up the grind of his jaw.

"I did not fail to take down the Weezing because my team lacked the strength to crush it," Brock barked out fiercely, his voice rising in volume as he stared directly into the camera lens. "I failed to take it down because the criminal scum of Team Rocket got to the monster first! They ruthlessly infiltrated the deep levels, bypassed our forward perimeter, and snatched the Weezing right out from under our noses before we could execute the termination order!"

A massive, unified cheer violently erupted from the front tables of the Lounge.

"Haha! Sucked in, you rock-brained loser!" a Grunt screamed out, slamming his fist onto a table, sending playing cards flying into the air. "Team Rocket takes whatever the fuck we want! Go cry to your mommy, Gym Leader!"

"Quiet down, look at the description!" an Elite Officer roared from the center couch, his eyes wide as he pointed a shaking finger at the screen.

"Sir, are you confirming that Team Rocket has officially secured this bio-hazard?" Celia Vance questioned rapidly, her eyes widening in genuine shock. "How many operatives were deployed? Was it a full-scale corporate cell?"

"There were three of them," Brock answered regretfully, his eyes darkening into pure, murderous hatred as he relived the memory. "Judging by the distinct variations in their uniforms, the infiltration cell consisted of one standard officer, one elite officer, and lastly, the direct involvement of Executive Ariana of Team Rocket. This case is indeed no small matter—this was a highly coordinated, high-ranking syndicate play executed at the highest levels of their command structure. And I can assure the citizens of Kanto... I have personally seen, tracked, and permanently memorized every single face of the perpetrators involved in this slaughter."

Brock took a menacing step closer to the microphone, his chest heaving under his torn shirt.

"Executive Ariana is nothing new to our law enforcement tracking; she is an infamous, high-tier corporate criminal who has eluded League justice for years," Brock stated with absolute venom. "But her two accomplices are new targets on our radar. The elite officer was a young, red-haired female who handled their frontline deployment with a highly aggressive Arbok. And the second individual... the standard officer... was a tall, young male with exceptionally long, straight black hair."

Odin stood completely still in the dark back row of the lounge. His slitted black eyes didn't widen. His hand remained casually resting in his pocket, completely unbothered, though his mind instantly began running the survival math.

Deep within the crowded room, hidden in two completely opposite corners of the television audience, two distinct pairs of eyes shifted concurrently. In the far left corner near the shadows of the bar, Elite Officer Lucy stood frozen, her copper-auburn hair messy and her crimson-red eyes stretching wide in a sudden, suffocating wave of pure anxiety. Her breath hitched in her throat. She looked down at her hands, her fingers trembling as she realized that Brock had just officially broadcasted her exact physical profile and rank to the entire Kanto region. She was no longer a hidden, low-profile operative running black-market jobs in the dark; she was now an infamous, high-profile target of the state.

'At least there isn't any image or video image of me right? Plenty of girls with red hairs no?' She thought to herself.

And in the far right corner of the lounge, sitting alone at a small concrete table, Elite Officer Emily of Team Alpha sat perfectly rigid. Her model-esque 170cm silhouette was immaculate, her form-fitting black sweetheart-neckline corset and open sleeveless vest highlighting her sharp posture. Her unbothered, half-lidded lavender eyes narrowed to tiny slits as she listened to Brock's exact words. Her dark forest-green braids rested quietly over her collarbones, but her mind was actively acting like a sponge, soaking up every single detail about this long-black-haired male officer who apparently controlled a four-hundred-kill Weezing. "That description matches with what was said about Odin's Appearance... is he back? Wasn't he missing? Huh.. if only they knew this monster was called Poopie of all fucking names." Emily quietly muttered to herself

Neither Lucy nor Emily had noticed Odin watching from the deep back of the room, and Odin hadn't noticed their presence either. Everyone was entirely isolated within their own calculations.

"Gym Leader Brock," Celia Vance's voice cut back into the audio feed, her tone turning deeply serious. "What is the final status of the two professional bounty hunter squads? Did they manage to secure any of Team Rocket's assets before the escape?"

Brock's face completely dropped, a heavy, dark shadow of profound sorrow and intense rage washing over his features. He lowered his head for a brief microsecond before locking his gaze back onto the camera.

"The two bounty hunters didn't make it," Brock announced with a trembling, furious tone, his voice echoing like a death knell through the lounge speakers. "They have lost their lives to these filthy, fucking criminal scums. They were brutally executed on the field while performing their legal duty to this region. I officially give my solemn promise here today that their families will be heavily, generously compensated by the Kanto League for their ultimate sacrifice and brave contribution to our safety. And upon my sacred name as Brock, the Gym Leader of Pewter City... I will personally do everything within my power and might to hunt down these criminal scums, drag them out of whatever rat hole they are hiding in, and make sure they rot in a maximum-security prison for the rest of eternity!"

"Oh, look at him cry!" an Officer in the lounge jeered loudly, spitting right onto the linoleum floor. "He's crying over a couple of dead mercenaries! Go build another rock wall in some depressing corner, you pathetic loser! You couldn't even save your own men!"

"Are you physically alright, sir?" Celia asked, her professional concern guiding the final segment of the live interview. "What are the League's immediate next steps?"

"I am fine... just some minor injuries and surface burns," Brock replied regretfully, his voice dropping into a flat, bitter rasp. "But the perpetrators... they have unfortunately escaped the perimeter. Our ground teams tracked them to the outer borders of Route 3, but their current coordinates are entirely unknown. They have vanished into the dark."

"Thank you, Gym Leader Brock," Celia Vance said, turning her body back toward the central camera lens. "As you can see, the situation on Route 3 remains highly volatile—"

Suddenly, the live video feed violently shuddered as three high-ranking League Police Officers forcefully burst into the camera's frame from the right side, their faces pale and their uniform shirts covered in sweat. One of them aggressively grabbed the KBC producer's shoulder, handing him a high-tech digital storage drive.

"Celia! Celia, we have urgent, breaking updates!" the lead Officer shouted directly into the live microphone, his expression completely panicked. "We have just recovered direct, unedited data footage from the sector! New footage has just been extracted from the field!"

The reporter girl's eyes practically lit up with an intense, professional excitement, her fingers tightening around the microphone as she looked directly at the producer behind the camera. "We are going live with the raw feed right now! Our control room is flashing the recovered footage directly onto the regional broadcast network! Let's look at what transpired!"

The television screen inside the Lounge instantly cut away from Brock's dirt-covered face, flashing a bright, harsh digital transition before playing a raw, unedited wide-angle video stream.

The exact second the footage stabilized, a collective, suffocating gasp violently ripped through every single grunt and officer packed inside the Team Rocket lounge.

It was a body-camera data stream recovered directly from one of the fallen Officer Jennies. And because the sky was clear dusk, the lighting was perfect.

Flashed across the screen, in full, high-definition, unobstructed view, was Odin's face. His sharp, pale features, his cold, calculating eyes, and his long, messy black hair were plastered boldly across every single television screen in the Kanto region. There was no mask, no shadow, and no distortion. It was his absolute first public exposure to the world, and it was a brutally clear one. Right next to him, Executive Ariana's infamous, maniacal smile was splashed across the screen, her red lips parted in an unhinged, battle-crazed grin as she handled the controls of her custom white sport bike.

The footage began to play out in real-time, and it turned into an absolute, high-octane action masterpiece of pure, unadulterated cinema. The entire lounge was dead silent, every single criminal paralyzing their lungs as they watched an independent Officer systematically, ruthlessly dismantle the state's elite law enforcement units.

The video showed the three modified police motorcycles closing the gap from behind, their sidecar Growlithes baring their fangs as their throats glowed with a white-hot elemental energy.

On the screen, the massive dark-type Honchkrow expanded its wings, unleashing a massive, hurricane-force wall of wind energy directly behind the hyper-bike. The Tailwind strategy multiplier was flawless; the audience saw Ariana's machine rocket forward like a bullet, while the concentrated wall of air slammed directly into the faces of the pursuing Growlithes, catching their synchronized Flamethrower attacks and violently spiraling the raging sheets of fire straight back into the faces of the police pack. The sudden, deflected inferno completely blinded the cops, sending one of the Officer Jennies skidding violently into the concrete guardrail at 350 kilometers per hour in a catastrophic, bone-crushing wreck.

"Holy fucking shit!" a Captain yelled out from the bar, his drink freezing halfway to his mouth as his eyes practically popped out of his skull. "Did he just use their own goddamn fire to vaporize them?! Who the fuck is this guy?!"

The footage didn't stop. It cut to a second body-camera stream taken from the front blockade line, where three more Officer Jennies had deployed a double-stacked Smokescreen, vomiting a thick wall of toxic grey soot to blind their path.

The audio line flared again with Odin's mocking, sadistic laugh. "Oh, how fucking cute! They're trying to hide their sexy faces in the smoke, DONT BE SHY NOW, I LOVE YOU ALL EQUALLY! Honchkrow, use Night Slash straight through the center quadrant! Split these sluts wide open!"

The Honchkrow dove straight through the grey smoke cloud like a falling meat cleaver. A microsecond later, a catastrophic metallic crash shook the audio feed. The Night Slash sliced straight through the center bike's steel forks with surgical, razor-sharp precision, causing the front wheel to shear completely off the body at 300 kilometers per hour. The second oncoming police bike, completely blinded by its own smoke, smashed dead-center into the flying engine block wreckage. The dual impact detonated into a massive, graphic ball of burning fuel and twisted steel, the sheer kinetic force ripping limbs off and sending severed, bloody body parts flying across the asphalt in a terrifying display of raw, unfiltered violence.

"Look at that damage!" an Elite Officer screamed out, jumping completely off the leather couch, his arms raised in pure, chaotic celebration. "He literally turned those uniform-wearing bitches into a pile of charred dog food! This is fucking legendary!"

"The icy wind tactic! Look at the tires!" another grunt yelled, pointing wildly at the screen.

The footage showed the final two desperate Officer Jennies unleashing a synchronized Overheat directly onto the asphalt, causing the solid highway lanes to literally bubble, liquefy, and melt into a smoking trap of molten tar. But before the custom bike's front tire could sink into the liquid rock, Odin's Honchkrow unleashed a massive Icy Wind draft, flash-freezing the bubbling asphalt back into a solid, slick sheet of ice in a fraction of a second. Ariana perfectly balanced the chassis, drifting the rear wheel through the frozen tar with expert precision before pinning the throttle to accelerate straight past the last two stunned, wide-eyed officers.

The final frame of the recovered video showed Odin turning his head completely toward the lens, his pale face locked into a manic, arrogant grin as he flipped a heavy double bird straight at the police camera, his voice dropping one final, degrading insult through the wind resistance: "Go back to the station and cry to your chief about how a couple of Team Rocket Officers turned your entire elite squad into a goddamn circus act!"

Then, Ariana cranked the supercharged Heatran engine into sixth gear, the supercharger letting out an ungodly, monstrous shriek as the Kezura Rx-7 exploded down the road, disappearing like a needle in the dark sky as they blitzed away from the perimeter entirely.

The video feed cut to black, returning to the KBC studio where Celia Vance was standing with a completely pale, trembling face, her professional composure entirely shattered by the sheer brutality of the footage she had just broadcasted to millions of households.

"We... we have just received confirmation from League High Command," Celia Vance announced, her voice shaking violently as she clutched her earpiece. "All seven Officer Jennies deployed in the Route 3 pursuit have been officially confirmed deceased on the scene. The League Bureau has just issued an emergency, tier-one international arrest warrant and an immediate three-million-dollar bounty on the head of this newly identified Team Rocket operative, officially identified on record as Officer Odin. The information further states that he is the owner of the berserker Weezing, therefore this individual is considered Highly Dangerous. A state of high-alert panic has been declared across Pewter City. We will be going on a very short commercial break and will return live with the latest emergency response updates from the Governor's office. Stay tuned."

The television screen faded into a standard commercial reel, and the Lounge instantly detonated into an absolute madhouse of chaotic shouting, cheering, and furious table-slamming.

"Three million on his first goddamn run?!" a Grunt screamed, ripping his cap off his head. "He just slaughtered seven Jennies like they were nothing! He's a fucking god!"

"Did you hear the mouth on that guy?!" an Officer laughed hysterically, leaning over the bar counter. "Calling them Sexy Police sluts right while he's slicing their bikes in half! That is the most funny and beautiful shit I have seen heard for today!"

"I bet Executive Ariana rode his dick straight down the highway after that," another operative joked crudely, a wave of degenerate laughter rippling through the front tables. "A woman like her gets totally in heat over that kind of bloody slaughter!"

Odin remained completely quiet, leaning his back against the cold concrete wall in the very back row of the crowd. He silently observed the chaotic room, his hands staying steady inside his pockets. His black eyes slowly tracked the room.

In the far left corner, Lucy was hyperventilating, her ruby lips completely bloodless as her crimson-red eyes stared blankly at the commercial screen. Her mind was a complete storm of panic. Odin was no longer just her secret, wealthy partner who could upgrade her Pokémon; he was now a public menace, an infamous target whose face was plastered across every police precinct in Kanto. This guy will be inviting danger everywhere, and the females in this organization will be lining up to suck him dry of any worth.

But in the far right corner of the lounge, Emily stood perfectly quiet, her half-lidded lavender eyes completely calm as she observed the room's reaction. Unlike every other clueless grunt and officer screaming at the screen, Emily wasn't shocked by the footage at all. She didn't view Odin as some sudden, terrifying mystery threat out of nowhere.

She watched the screen fade to a commercial, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching her lips. Everything she had risked her life for in the suffocating smoke of that mountain was finally playing out exactly as she had calculated. She looked down at her hands, still slightly raw from pulling Angel out of the inferno, and felt a cold wave of satisfaction. The news report only confirmed what her intuition had told her from the very start: this Odin guy wasn't just a standard criminal—he was the exact force of nature she needed to solve her problem.

She quietly adjusted her dark leather utility belt, her eyes locking onto Odin's silhouette standing completely unbothered in the back row. She knew he had no idea she was the one who had shadowed his civilian girl, discovered Poopie's ridiculous name, and dragged Angel straight to the base medical team just in the nick of time. He thought he was entirely alone in this storm, but she held the ultimate leverage to force him to listen to her request. She didn't approach him just yet, noting that Lucy was still paralyzed with anxiety across the room. Emily simply leaned back, keeping her eyes fixed on him, waiting for the perfect second to step out of the shadows and claim her reward.

Odin quietly turned his head away from the crowd, his mind was lost thinking about what next, as the lounge continued to celebrate his entry into the underworld's hall of infamy.

□■□■□■□■□■□

Odin shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his boots shifting on the smooth floor as he scanned the crowded room for an empty seat or a couch to crash on. While his eyes tracked the layout, his mind was busy running through the math of the television report. Damn... even people get massive state bounties in this world, he thought to himself, a cold smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. Isn't three million PokéDollars a bit high for a first-time offense? I know I technically own a Weezing with a five-million-dollar bounty that just slaughtered over forty trainers, melted four hundred plus Pokémon, and left twenty-five hospitalized inside the city... and yeah, I personally executed seven high-ranking Officers from the prestigious Jenny family down the highway... but still, three million? You can literally buy a massive, luxury villa with that kind of cash, or even secure a legal Platinum-Potential Pokémon from the market brokers. Or an illegal one from some black market I'm sure. And did those KBC cameramen really have to zoom straight in on my face in full view like that? Sheesh! Talk about instant exposure.

It was at that exact second that Lucy noticed him from across the crowded room. She only saw his back, but that was more than enough to freeze her heart—that tall, wide back that she had embraced multiple times during their runs, and that long, straight black hair neatly tied back in a half-updo. She recognized that back far too well to miss it.

Breaking out of her silent panic loop, she waved her hand high in the air like an excited kid, loudly calling out into the room. "Odin! Over here!"

Odin immediately turned his upper body in the direction of the high-pitched sound, his black eyes tracking through the thick tobacco smoke until he finally spotted her copper-auburn hair.

But the name Odin was way too hot and trendy right now.

The exact millisecond her voice yelled out the name Odin, every single pair of ears in the lounge perked up concurrently. The ambient chatter died instantly as dozens of grunts, officers, and elite officers snapped their heads around to look in the exact direction Lucy was looking.

And just like that, the entire lounge turned into a high-pressure scene where every single criminal in the room was staring straight at Odin's face—even the single, high-ranking Team Rocket Captain standing near the bar.

"Oh, just fucking great, Lucy," Odin whispered under his breath, his tongue clicking against his teeth in pure irritation.

In an instant, a massive wave of Rockets began swarming directly around his tall frame like a pack of starved visual hounds. They crowded into his personal space, aggressively praising him, hyping up his highway run, and shamelessly sucking up to him to log some favor. Some of the older officers genuinely appreciated his cold-blooded efficiency against the law, while several grunt girls tried to throw themselves straight at his chest, flirting heavily and selling themselves just to get close to the man with the three-million-dollar face.

The entire center floor was a chaotic mess of shouting and grabbing. Odin genuinely didn't know what the fuck to say or do in this kind of civilian-style crowd; he stood completely stunned by the sudden explosion of attention and the intense glares he was receiving from every corner.

Lucy's voice was completely drowned out as the aggressive swarm physically pushed her further and further back into the thick of the crowd, separating her from him entirely.

That's when the lone Team Rocket Captain stepped in. He used his massive bulk to forcefully shove some of the groveling grunts out of his way, barking out loud commands for the fodder to back the fuck off as he made a clean path straight to the center of the circle.

When the Captain finally reached Odin and got a good, unobstructed look at his pale face, his enthusiastic expression suddenly shifted into recognition.

"Wait a minute, now that I'm taking a good look at your face..." the Captain said, his voice buzzing with energy. "Aren't you the exact rookie I was in charge of back at the central Recruitment center? You called yourself Hot shit! I remember.. mr.hotshit"

Odin blinked, his black eyes flat. "Uh... bro, I don't know you."

"It's me, Captain Murphy!" the man laughed, slapping his hand against his leather belt. "I was standing right there on the platform the day you drew your Koffing! You were the very first recruit to successfully tame a Pokémon, though you looked like you were about to barf all over that poor fella's face."

"Oh... shit, I remember now," Odin said, a cocky smirk returning to his lips as the memory clicked. "I also distinctly remember you standing up there threatening to execute all of us if we failed anything at all."

"Just shaping up the new recruits, bro, you'll understand how the hierarchy works one day," Captain Murphy said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head as a few grunts giggled. "Anyways, now the whole television report makes perfect sense! That monstrous Weezing tearing up the mountain was yours, wasn't it? Damn, you sure grew up quick, kid. The recruitment day wasn't even two weeks ago, and you already possess the raw combat strength of a low-level Captain. The baseline potential on that Weezing must have been really good from the start."

"It was so-so... but he was a Gold-Potential asset," Odin lied smoothly, his face a perfect mask of deceptive innocence. "Turns out he was only a few points away from a Platinum-Potential... guess it was just serious luck on my part."

"That is some legendary beginner's luck!" Murphy barked out happily. "I always knew you were special from the second you dominated the recruitment center floor, but alas, you left the sector just as quick as you got yourself a partner. Say... how about this? I know you're still holding the rank of a standard Officer... why not join my independent Team as an unofficial member until you officially get promoted to Elite Officer? I'll look out for your operations, and we can dominate Kanto together!"

Holy shit, this guy talks a lot, Odin thought to himself, his inner dialogue completely rolling its eyes at the pitch.

"Uh... bro... let me do some thinking on that," Odin lazily drawled, his tone dropping into a flat, dismissive rasp. "I don't really know you or how all this Team shenanigans work anyway... besides, I'm doing pretty fucking fantastic solo right now."

"Haha, that's exactly how everyone thinks in the early ranks, bro," Captain Murphy stated happily, completely missing the rejection. "Once you start climbing into high-stakes operations, the only way to have a real future and go somewhere in Team Rocket is to join an established team. It's the absolute best and fastest way to earn TR points and contribution points. Strength alone isn't enough to get promoted by the Admins; you need to make yourself useful to the syndicate in other ways, and having a team is the way to go!"

Right... Lucy mentioned that exact same thing to me before, Odin thought, his mind tracking back to their conversations at the at Mission center..Teams and contribution points... even Ariana put heavy importance on those stuff... But I just wanted to live my life like a low-life grunt... doing petty shit... no name, no bounty... but I guess it's far too late to run away from that reality now.

"I'll have to do some heavy thinking about the whole team thing, bro," Odin said lazily—though he definitely wasn't going to spend a single second thinking about it.

That's when Emily finally decided to make an appearance. Emily walked directly into the center room, radiating an immense sense of superiority and elite authority.

The chaotic shouting died instantly. Every single grunt and officer in the vicinity immediately shuffled backward, clearing a wide, respectful path for her as she strode across the floor.

Odin's eyes locked onto her appearance instantly, his inner monologue letting out a low whistle. Sheesh, the bitch is smoking hot. Absolutely model-tier. She walked with a precise, elegant grace that demanded attention, her form-fitting black sweetheart corset and open sleeveless vest highlighting her sharp posture. Unlike Captain Murphy, who had to yell to get respect, Emily held true, untouchable status because everyone knew she belonged to Team Alpha—one of the six most elite Teams in the entire Rocket syndicate.

Every criminal in the lounge treated her like a figure of absolute authority, completely contrasting the way Lucy mostly got backlined and ignored by the higher-ups.

But she didn't fawn all over Odin like the grunt girls. She didn't try to sell herself, flirt, or throw her body at him. She maintained a clean, respectful distance, her half-lidded lavender eyes giving him a brief, calculating acknowledgment.

"Odin will not be joining your low-tier squad, Captain Murphy," Emily stated with absolute confidence, her monotonal voice cutting through the silent room like ice. "He will be joining me."

Odin lazily leaned back, a lecherous, mocking grin splitting his face as he looked her up and down. "As long as you let me pipe that beautiful body, boss lady, I'll gladly join whatever the fuck you want."

Emily's lavender eyes flashed with a cold, instantaneous disgust at his vulgarity. But she was a professional; she manually caught her defensive walls, switching her face back into an indifferent expression as she chose to just ignore his sexual remark entirely. She held herself back from dropping a devastating, razor-sharp verbal roast that would have dismantled his confidence right in front of the grunts. She still desperately needed his help for her hidden agenda, so she forced her mouth shut.

Captain Murphy also smartly ignored Odin's crude comment, turning his focus entirely to the green-braided officer. "Well shit, if it isn't Elite Officer Emily from Team Alpha, one of the elite six teams of Team Rocket... here in the flesh!"

"Yes, and I have sad news for your recruitment drive, Murphy," Emily coldly laid out the facts, her gaze unyielding. "I have had my eyes locked onto Odin for much longer than anyone in this room. He will not be joining you."

"Tch, aren't you elite teams getting a bit too greedy?" Murphy complained, his face turning sour as he scratched his neck. "Team Alpha is already doing good enough with all the cargo smuggling down in Vermilion City. Can't you let the smaller independent teams have a meal? Independent squads like mine still exist, you know! We also need to eat! Leaving us with nothing but leftover Grunts all the time is kinda cruel, don't you think?"

"If you are unsatisfied with our allocation, Captain, you are more than welcome to go file a formal complaint with Executive Cliff," Emily replied, her tone completely matter-of-factly. But the exact second her lips uttered the name Executive Cliff, a heavy wave of pure disdain and visceral revulsion bled through her monotonal voice, as if the very name of her superior turned her stomach completely upside down.

Murphy, hearing the name of the terrifying Executive Cliff, immediately lost all of his confident swagger. His posture slumped, his expression turning timid and sheepish as he backed down right away. "Oh... Cliff... ah... nah, I understand, no need to complain to the boss. I guess I'm just going to leave. You can talk to Odin alone. He's all yours."

"Good. Know your place," Emily mocked him quietly as the Captain hurried back toward the bar. "You can't offer an operative like Odin a single damn thing anyway. Your methods would only hold his development back, unlike me."

She then turned her half-lidded gaze back to Odin, her lips moving in a quiet, imperceptible whisper that only her own ears could track: Not even Cliff can hold a force like him... that's exactly why I need him, He's special, I'm certain of it.. I know he must have some special ability that he is keeping tucked away; I'm no fool, but I won't expose him either.

She stepped closer to him, her model-esque posture upright as she was forced to raise her head slightly, given that Odin's tall frame easily towered over her.

"We have a lot of operational business to talk about, Odin," Emily said quietly, her voice dropping into a private, professional register. "You don't know who I am yet, but I know everything about you. This noisy room isn't a good place for us to conduct a business talk, nor is it the right time for your brain to process it. Wait for Ariana to finish her run, let Nurse Joy patch up that wound on your shoulder, and then go meet your little angel inside the medical room. After that, perhaps we could finally find the quiet time to talk and get to know each other."

The exact second the name Angel slipped past her dark lips, Odin's entire demeanor violently changed.

The cocky grin and the lazy, lecherous smirk instantly vanished from his face, replaced by a terrifying, hollow killing intent that made the air around them turn freezing. His black eyes narrowed into a pair of dead slitted pools, his mind running through a hundred dark variables in a fraction of a second. How the fuck does this girl know about Angel? his brain roared in suspicion. Angel is a just a girl from the slums. Nobody in this base is supposed to know her name. Who the fuck is this green-haired bitch?!

"You..." Odin said, his voice a low, lethal growl that carried zero emotion. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Don't worry," Emily replied calmly, her lavender eyes remaining completely steady against his murderous glare. "I am not your enemy... instead, I am entirely on your side. But I want you to be on my side as well. In fact, I have a major request and wish for you to help me with something highly critical. But don't worry... I plan to help you out with your immediate problems first, before you actually have to help me."

Odin's teeth clicked together, his mind tracking her posture before his cocky, dangerous grin slowly returned to mask his suspicion. "Okay, boss lady. You just successfully bought exactly seven seconds of my interest. Use it wisely."

"Unfortunately, seven seconds is far too short for the scale of my request," Emily joked softly, her walls cracking for a brief second to match his energy. "Any chance I could take a loan on that time?"

Odin opened his mouth, about to drop another crude, provocative joke to see how she would react.

But Emily sharply cut him off, her professional, cold mask snapping right back into place as her eyes flicked toward the surrounding grunts. "Some other time, though. Not here, and definitely not right now... the walls have ears."

Emily reached down into the slight opening of her top, her fingers sliding past her collarbones to pull a folded slip of white paper straight out of her cleavage. She held it out between two fingers, her unbothered expression holding steady as she locked eyes with him. "Here, take this. This is my number. Once everything has settled down and you are ready to talk, give me a call. I'll explain everything to you then."

Odin reached out and grabbed the slip, his black eyes glancing down to examine the ink.

Written clearly across the surface was a nine-digit sequence: 679401700. Right beneath the digits, she had cleanly written her name: Emily.

Odin let out a low grunt, casually folding the paper and pocketing it straight into his uniform trousers alongside his credits.

"I guess this is where you say, 'See ya later, Alligator,' and then mysteriously walk away into the shadows," Odin drawled, a sarcastic grin splitting his face. "Letting me stand here like an idiot wondering what the fuck just happened and what the fuck that was all about."

The unexpected Earth phrase actually managed to pierce right through her cold composure. A genuine, quiet giggle escaped her lips, her shoulders shaking slightly as she leaned into the play.

She smiled beautifully up at his face, her lavender eyes flashing with a rare amusement. "Smell ya later, Turtonator."

Without turning back to look at his reaction, she spun on her heel and swaggered straight toward a nearby elevator bank inside the lounge room, the heavy steel doors sliding shut behind her long legs.

Odin stood there for a second, staring at the closed elevator shaft. "What the fuck just happened? What the fuck was that all about?" he muttered to himself, thoroughly amused by the bizarre exchange and play.

Suddenly, a heavy, familiar weight violently slammed straight onto his back. He didn't even have to look down to guess the culprit as two slender legs wrapped securely around his waist. It was Lucy. She had quietly snuck up from the periphery, completely laden with both of the heavy Pokébags—his premium black container and her own gear—safely slung over her shoulders. She had been standing in the shadows, quietly observing and listening to every single micro-movement of his conversation with Emily from start to finish, and she had finally chosen this moment to barge right into his personal space.

"Miss me, Odin?" Lucy whispered loudly right against his ear, her voice dripping with an annoying, playful malice. "Mister infamous, mister dangerous, mister hotshot! Mister, 'I have a three-million-dollar bounty on my face before I even finish my second week.' Mister, 'I have a whole cult of female grunts drooling over my boots as my personal fan club.' Mister popular, mister deeply important."

"Aye aye aye, I fucking get it... so stop your whining," Odin jokingly complained, shifting his shoulders under her weight, though he didn't drop her off his hips.

"Now you finally know what it feels like to have everyone tracking your movements, huh?" she teased mercilessly, digging her chin right into his shoulder blade. "Come on, let's go sit down! Over there... see that couch in the corner? That squishy one!"

She reached her hands forward, playfully pulling on both of his ears to steer his head toward the leather couch she was pointing at.

Odin's cynical grin flared. He played along with her movement perfectly, carrying her straight across the floorboards before launching his entire body forward. He jumped squarely onto the soft, squishy leather cushions like a text-book WWE wrestling move, slamming both of their bodies down into the padding.

"Kyaaaah! You asshole!" Lucy yelled out loudly in surprise, her arms flailing as they bounced against the heavy springs.

To the rest of the room, they looked like two casual underworld love birds having a little bit of chaotic quality time amidst a regional crisis.

Lucy quickly recovered, dropping the two heavy Pokébags gently onto the floor beside the couch cushions. She slid her hips around to sit squarely on Odin's lap, her crimson-red eyes narrowing with a very specific intent. She was about to execute a public powerplay, completely claiming him in front of every single grunt girl who had been trying to throw themselves at his chest. She wrapped her slender arms tightly around his neck, burying her face in his as she began aggressively kissing his lips and his pale cheeks, completely shifting her voice into a loud, high-pitched, and childishly cute Aegyo tone so that every female operative in the lounge could hear her loud and clear.

"Odin-tan is sooo mean to Lucy! Smashed me right into the couch, hmph!" Lucy whined in an exaggerated, pouty baby-voice, puffing out her cheeks and wiggling her shoulders right against his chest as she did the cute Aegyo on purpose. "But my big, scary, three-million-dollar hotshot still belongs entirely to me, right? Yes he does! These trashy little grunts can look all they want, but they can't touch my favorite officer! Chu!"

She planted another loud, wet kiss right against his cheekbone, looking over his shoulder with a smug, predatory smirk to ensure the surrounding girls were actively burning with jealousy. Odin chuckled darkly, his hand sliding up her thigh to play along with the ridiculous display, enjoying the sheer friction it was causing in the room.

The two spent a few more minutes trading crude banter on the leather cushions before the main lounge doors forcefully slid open.

Executive Ariana stepped directly into the room, instantly commanding the attention of every single operative in the facility. She was wearing a completely fresh, immaculate set of her high-ranking Executive uniform, and her dark red hair was still visibly wet, looking slick and damp from a shower she had finished not too long ago. Her presence drew so many immediate stares that Odin didn't even have to hunt for her; he simply followed the collective shift of everyone's eyes, spotted her swaggering through the tables, and lazily waved his hand in the air to call her over.

Ariana walked seductively toward their couch, her crimson eyes locked onto Odin's face before drifting down to notice her vexing cousin sitting on his lap. "Well, don't you two look cozy while the entire region is launching a manhunt."

"Oh, look who decided to finally show up," Lucy snapped, dropping the cute baby-voice instantly as her natural, sharp-tongued attitude returned. She crossed her arms, glaring up at the Executive. "I'm still pissed off at you for having your Hypno teleport my ass away from the clearing without a single second of warning, Ariana. That was a total bitch move."

Ariana let out a cold, dismissive laugh, her expression showing she didn't give a single flying fuck about her cousin's corporate complaints. "Cry me a river, Lucy. It was an operational transition. Get over it."

Before Lucy could fire back another insult, Ariana sharply flicked her black-gloved fingers. "Get your asses up. It's time to leave the room."

□■□■□■□■■

Odin slid Lucy off his lap, grabbing his coat as they stood up to follow her straight out of the lounge. Ariana guided them down a series of heavily secured, clinical concrete hallways, bypassing multiple electronic security checkpoints until they reached a private, heavy-duty elevator shaft.

They entered the steel cabin, and Ariana reached out to press a button for one of the lowest, most fortified sub-levels of the Pewter City underground infrastructure. As the cabin began its deep descent into the bedrock, they chatted idly about everything and nothing—Odin dropping lazy, arrogant jokes about his new public bounty while Lucy continued to complain about the lack of communication during the Mount Moon rollout.

Ding.

The elevator bell rang out, signaling they had reached the high-security floor. Ariana guided them out of the shaft and led them a bit further down a quiet, white-tiled corridor until she stopped in front of a private medical door.

They stepped inside to find a sterile, fully equipped nurse's room. Standing by the medical counter was a Nurse Joy—one who had been cleanly kidnapped from a public League center by Team Rocket cells, permanently stationed down here for the syndicate's personal use.

The Nurse Joy immediately bowed her head respectfully toward the Executive, her eyes drifting over to Odin's torn shirt. "Ma'am, is this boy the one you requested assistance for?"

"Yes, that's the one," Ariana replied smoothly, leaning her hip against the counter. "Can you check his body out for me? Get that nasty bite wound on his shoulder cleaned up, disinfected, and do whatever else you medical types need to do to fix him."

"Right away," the nurse agreed, turning to prep the antiseptic swabs.

Ariana turned her head back to look at Odin, a teasing smile playing on her red lips. "The room directly opposite this hallway is a private shower block. Once the nurse is done scrubbing the grime off your skin, go wash yourself down. I already left a free, clean set of clothes waiting for you on the bench over there. Of course, it's just a standard Team Rocket uniform variant... nothing too fancy for a three-million-dollar hotshot."

"Come on, Lucy, let's leave the boy to his cleaning," Ariana stated, turning toward the exit.

"Wait a second," Lucy interrupted.

She stepped over to the medical bed and gently dropped Odin's heavy black Pokébag onto the sheets. She unzipped the track, reached her hand inside, and pulled out his black PokéGear, handing the device straight into his palm.

"You should probably plug this thing in and charge it up right now, Odin," Lucy teased him with a knowing, sarcastic smirk, her crimson eyes glinting. "There are plenty of free charging ports in this room that you can use. You're definitely gonna need a full battery if you plan on calling that emily girl later tonight... which I know your arrogant ass will, Odin-Tan!!"

Odin took the device, letting out a cocky, low chuckle as he aggressively bullied her back, dropping a degrading remark about her jealousy that made her flip him an annoyed glare.

With the banter finished, both Ariana and Lucy walked out of the room, the heavy steel door clicking shut behind them to leave Officer Odin and the kidnapped Nurse Joy completely alone in the quiet medical bay.

Odin walked around in the quiet room and immediately began scanning the metal fixtures. He found a black charger resting on top of a high steel shelf, grabbed it, and quickly plugged the cord into his PokéGear. He connected the block straight into a nearby power outlet and left the device resting safely on the corner of the shelf to power up while he was busy getting his body checked by the nurse.

"Done?" the nurse gently asked, her voice soft as she adjusted her medical tray.

"Yeah, I guess," Odin replied, turning around to face her.

"Take off your shirt and sit on the bed for me," she gently replied, pointing toward the white paper lining.

Odin reached down, pulled his torn, blood-stained shirt completely off, and tossed it carelessly onto the concrete floor. He complied with the directive, stepping over to sit down on the examination table, his black eyes tracking the kidnapped Nurse Joy as she wheeled over her surgical tools and sterile gauze.

The pain in his shoulder was a burning, raw ache, a set of deep teeth marks left behind by his zombified Weezing that looked heavily swollen and stained with dark, crusty blood.

"Alright, Officer, let's look at the damage," Nurse Joy said, her voice remaining perfectly gentle and calm as she snapped on a pair of latex medical gloves. She picked up a bottle of saline solution and a heavy stack of gauze, stepping right into his personal space. "I'm going to start by cleaning away the dried blood so I can check the exact depth of the puncture holes. This might sting a bit."

As she pressed the wet, cold gauze directly against his raw flesh to scrub away the crust, Odin didn't even flinch. Instead, a lazy, cocky grin split his face, his eyes dropping shamelessly down to inspect her bright chestnut hair and her revealing Collarbones through uniform.

"You know, sweetheart, the only thing stinging right now is my heart," Odin flirted obnoxiously, leaning his head back against the wall with a smug smirk. "Because looking at a gorgeous woman like you up close is beautifully lethal. If you wanted me to strip down and jump on a bed with you, all you had to do was ask. No need to let my Pokémon bite me just to get my shirt off."

Nurse Joy didn't even pause her hands. She thoroughly wiped the blood away, her demeanor completely unbothered as she offered a warm, incredibly gentle smile. "Oh, is that how you interpret a medical emergency, Officer? How adorable. But if I wanted a man to take his shirt off for me, I usually prefer one who hasn't been thoroughly chewed on by a giant gas ball. Let's keep your chest still so I don't accidentally wipe that massive ego straight into your open wound."

Odin let out a loud chuckle, thoroughly amused by her calm deflection. "Ouch. Cold-blooded. I like a woman with a bit of a bite. Speaking of which, you can go as deep as you want into those holes, babe. I promise I won't cry."

"I'm glad to hear that, because the next step is checking for foreign bodies," she replied softly, completely turning down his advance as she picked up a pair of long, sterile steel tweezers. She carefully began probing the interior of the deep puncture wounds, her touch highly precise as she checked for any torn muscle tissue, broken bone shards, or teeth fragments left behind by Weezing's jaw. "Does this hurt? Do you feel any deep pressure against the collarbone?"

"The only pressure I feel is the heavy sexual tension in this room, babe," Odin grinned lecherously, his eyes tracing the curve of her neck as she leaned over his shoulder. "Forget the bone shards. Why don't you check my pulse instead? I'm pretty sure my heart is beating at a dangerous pace because your fingers are touching my skin. If you keep holding those cold tweezers like that, I might have to sue you for criminal harassment."

Nurse Joy let out a soft, rhythmic giggle, leaning in closer until her face was mere inches from his, her gentle voice dropping into a conspiratorial, intimate whisper that completely fooled him into thinking his charisma was working. "Oh, you want me to check your pulse, Officer? And you think this is criminal harassment? Well... if we look at the legal framework of Team Rocket, I suppose I could take your pulse right now..."

She paused, looking deeply into his black eyes with a sweet, affectionate smile that made it look like she was completely falling for his ploy, before her voice smoothly turned into a deadpan, polite execution: "...but looking at the sheer volume of adrenaline and nonsense spilling out of your mouth, I'd say your pulse is currently being sustained entirely by pure, unadulterated delusion. And unfortunately, there is no medical cure for a terminal lack of shame. Now Let's do a slow blink for me. Good boy."

"Damn, you're sharp," Odin laughed obnoxiously, gritting his teeth slightly as she pulled a tiny, crushed fragment of a purple toxin sac out from the deepest hole.

"I found a partial venom gland shard," Nurse Joy noted, her calm demeanor turning analytical as she dropped the fragment into a metal dish with a loud clink. She picked up a syringe and a chemical vial filled with a clear, bubbling fluid. "Your Weezing is a highly toxic kind, Officer," Nurse Joy noted, "Standard Koffing venom causes immediate cellular necrosis, massive internal organ failure, and severe systemic poisoning within five minutes of an open bite. I need to draw a blood sample immediately to check your bloodstream for anomalies, and then I'll inject an antidote directly into your veins. If the poison has spread, you could drop dead on this bed."

Odin didn't even blink at the medical warning. He possessed a literal Diamond-grade Poison Affinity that made him much more robust against poison comparw to other people, although he isn't immune to every toxic compound on the planet—but the kidnapped nurse obviously had no idea he was a biological anomaly.

He leaned forward, his cocky grin widening as he watched her prep the needle. "Go ahead and take a blood sample, nurse. Take as much as you want. But honestly, you don't need to waste that expensive antidote on me. My bloodstream is already thoroughly poisoned, sweetheart."

Nurse Joy paused, her eyebrows raising with a look of genuine, deep-seated worry and intense empathy. She looked at his pale face, her gentle eyes practically melting with a soft, childlike concern as she held the syringe. "What do you mean, Officer? Are you already feeling the respiratory failure? Is your chest tightening? Tell me what you feel right now, don't hide the symptoms from me."

Odin smirked lecherously, leaning straight into her personal space. "I feel a burning fever, babe. And the poison is called love. The only antidote that can save my life right now is if you slip your phone number into my pocket and let me take you out for a wild night in Vermilion City. So what do you say? Want to save a dying man's life?"

The exact second the pickup line dropped, Nurse Joy's worried expression instantly vanished, her face settling back into a perfectly calm, polite mask as she realized she had been played. She let out a soft, sweet sigh, her gentle voice dripping with a hilarious, creative mockery as she slid the needle flawlessly straight into his vein to draw the dark red blood.

"Oh, a burning fever of love? Vermilion City? That sounds absolutely enchanting, Officer," Nurse Joy purred gently, her touch incredibly soft as she filled the vial, completely fooling him for a split second with a sweet nod. "I must admit, a wild night out with a three-million-dollar celebrity sounds like a dream come true for a simple captured nurse like me. I was almost ready to say yes..."

She pulled the needle out with a quick, cashless snap, capping the vial before delivering a devastating, gentle shut-down: "...but then I remembered my basic medical ethics course. Section four distinctly states that a doctor should never enter a romantic relationship with a patient who is suffering from severe, acute brain damage. And considering you just used a pickup line from a trashy Johto soap opera while actively bleeding on my sheets, I'm going to have to diagnose you as completely mentally incompetent. No dating for the legally brain-dead, I'm afraid."

"Pfft! Hahaha! Holy shit, you are a savage!" Odin roared with laughter, his hand slapping his knee as he thoroughly enjoyed getting completely dismantled by her wit. "Damn, sweetheart, you're a tough nut to crack. But you know, since you're already drawing my blood, you might as well take my heart too. I've got plenty of room in my schedule for a private checkup late at night. What do you think about doing an overnight shift in my private quarters?"

Nurse Joy finished labeling the blood vial, setting it down on the counter with a soft click. She turned back to him, her face a picture of serene, professional warmth. "An overnight shift in your quarters, Officer? My, you are incredibly generous with your invitations. I suppose an intensive, round-the-clock monitoring session does sound like a critical assignment..."

She stepped closer, picking up an iron measuring caliper from her tray and holding it right in front of his nose, her smile completely sweet as she delivered another savage negation: "...but looking at the baseline diameter of your cranium, I'm afraid your skull is far too thick to let any actual intellect pass through. I only perform overnight shifts on patients who have a verifiable chance of recovery, and your chronic flirting seems to be completely terminal. I'd have better luck performing CPR on a Geodude."

"Pfft! Hahaha! A Geodude? Holy shit, i love you!" Odin roared with laughter, waving his hand around. "You're too good for this place, nurse. Seriously. Come on, give me a real chance here. If I manage to survive this poison without your antidote, will you at least let me buy you a drink at the lounge?"

"I know I am good at my job, Officer," she replied softly, picking up a brown glass bottle of medical iodine and a fresh cotton swab. She aggressively soaked the swab, looking directly into his black eyes with a beautiful, polite smile. "And as for a drink at the lounge... that sounds like a lovely reward for a hard day's work. I was almost tempted to accept the offer..."

Without a single shred of hesitation, she shoved the burning, raw chemical straight into the open teeth marks. The iodine instantly sizzled against his exposed muscle tissue, a brutal, searing pain that would have made a standard grunt scream at the top of their lungs.

Odin's muscles instantly clenched, his teeth gritting as he swallowed the flash of agony, but he refused to let his cocky mask drop. He forced a strained, sweaty grin through the pain, looking right at her face. "Mmm... yeah, just like that, babe. If you wanted to dominate me and make me sweat, you could have just told me you were into rough play. I didn't know the Pewter City base offered this kind of premium, adult service."

Nurse Joy finished swabbing the liquid, her expression entirely serene as she picked up a heavy curved needle and a spool of medical-grade silk suture thread. She looked down at his bleeding, bitten shoulder with an immaculate, gentle smile. "Oh, you think this is rough play, Officer? You think I'm trying to dominate your body?"

She threaded the needle with an expert flick of her wrist, her gentle voice dropping into a sweet, child-like tone that completely masked the hilariously creative threat she was dropping: "Well, if you enjoy this level of service, you are going to absolutely love the next phase. I am about to manually sew your flesh back together with eight deep, individual stitches. And since you have been such a loud, obnoxious, and persistently horny boy for the last twenty minutes, I have decided to completely 'forget' to administer any local anesthesia for the stitching process. Let's see how much you enjoy 'rough play' when I start drilling this iron needle straight through your skin like a sewing machine. Keep your mouth wide open for me, hotshot."

Odin's slitted black eyes widened slightly, a rare flash of genuine amusement and respect hitting his brain as he realized she had just completely, flawlessly won the verbal war. She had turned his own sexual jokes into a license to torture his shoulder without numbing medicine, all while maintaining the gentle voice of a saint.

"Fucking legend," Odin muttered under his breath, a genuine, appreciative grin locked onto his face as she began the stitching.

For the next ten minutes, the room remained a quiet, intense battleground. Nurse Joy moved with total professional efficiency, her hands working smoothly to close the wound. True to her word, she didn't use a single drop of numbing fluid, pulling the silk thread tight through his skin to lock the flesh together. Odin sat perfectly rigid, his fists clenching the metal edges of the bed as he forced himself to absorb the raw, burning pain without making a single sound, his pride refusing to let him show weakness in front of her.

Finally, Nurse Joy clipped the end of the thread, wrapped a clean, sterile white compression bandage tightly around his shoulder quadrant, and taped the edges down securely. She stepped back, tossing her bloody gloves into the bio-hazard bin, her immaculate pink hair completely undisturbed as she offered one final, gentle bow.

"All done, Officer. The wound is fully disinfected, cleared of shards, and cleanly closed," Nurse Joy announced with her trademark sweet voice, her calm demeanor returning in full force. "You are completely patched up."

□■□■□■□■□

Odin slipped down from the edge of the examination bed. He offered Celine a parting shot, lazily slinging another heavy line her way, only to watch her dismantle it instantly without her pulse even shifting. A sudden, chaotic thought sparked right behind his eyes.

He lunged forward.

Before she could even step back, Odin caught her by the shoulder, forcefully spinning her around and shoving her body flat against the concrete wall. Her back was facing directly into Odin's direction. With one swift, heavy arm, he grabbed her arm and pinned it tightly against her own lower back, while his other large hand reached around her waist to aggressively, tightly grope her bare breast, fondling the shape with an iron grip. He pinned her entire body completely against the wall using his own massive weight and muscular mass, ensuring she couldn't wiggle away. His cock was already rock hard, poking fiercely against her ass through his trousers, pressing deep into her rear. Odin's face leaned in exceptionally close to the side of her neck and ear, taking an obnoxious sniff of her scent before planting a heavy, warm kiss straight onto her neck skin. Then, his mouth slid directly to her earlobe.

He whispered in her ear, his tone dropping into a low, cocky drawl. "So... does this beautiful nurse Joy actually have a name?"

The nurse didn't panic at all; she remained completely, unbelievably calm under his physical weight, replying in the exact same gentle, velvet-toned voice. "Celine."

Odin smirked, his lips brushing her skin as he leaned in even closer. "Well, Celine, my Weezing gave me a pretty nasty bite, but looking at you from behind, I think I'm dealing with a much bigger medical emergency. My lower anatomy has a massive structural inflation, and I've got an elite Diamond-Potential rod that's completely throbbing for a deep, specialized clinical checkup. Since you're the nurse in charge here, how about you let me slide this rod straight into your tight little database and test my ergonomics until we both drop dead on this floor?"

It was a sharp pickup line, perfectly twisting her immediate workplace surroundings into a vulgar, high-stakes proposition. Odin expected her to at least gasp or shift her weight in surprise.

Instead, Celine let out a soft, melodic chuckle, her body remaining completely relaxed against his weight. She looked over her shoulder with an alluring, fox-like smirk, her voice dropping into an intensely charming, polite execution. "Oh, a rod inside my database? To test my ergonomics? My, that is an incredibly creative diagnostic theory, Officer. I can see you put a massive amount of cognitive effort into that little medical pun. I was almost impressed..."

She paused, her amber eyes glittering with a beautiful, savage amusement as she delivered the shutdown: "...but then I remembered my clinical training. My table is designed strictly for premium, high-potential assets. Looking at the exact placement of that 'rod' poking against my hip, I'd say your structural diameter is far too petite to even trigger the machine's internal sensors. I only handle high-velocity hardware, and unfortunately for you, I don't waste my shifts running clinical trials on a low-level Caterpie. You're simply lacking the presence to catch my interest, hotshot."

Odin let out a loud chuckle, thoroughly amused and entertained by the pure fact that she could seamlessly dismantle him and shut him down in so many different ways, all while keeping a gentle tone and a calm demeanor like it was nothing at all.

"Holy shit, you're a savage!" Odin let out a loud laugh, thoroughly entertained by the fact that she could pick his lines apart and negate his ego so effortlessly. all while keeping a gentle tone and a calm demeanor like it was nothing at all.

"So what's stopping me from just forcing myself on you right here and now, babe?" Odin played with her maliciously, squeezing his large hand forcefully on her boobs, fondling them profusely against her uniform fabric. He shoved his hard, rock cock even deeper against her trousers, pointing directly at her and stabbing her with his cock, pressing the rigid mass harder and harder straight into her ass to push her limits. "What's stopping me from just fucking you against this concrete until you're nothing but a broken little doll?"

And again, with that identical gentle tone and a sweet smile, she casually and masterfully shut Odin down, her voice remain perfectly calm. "What's stopping you? Well, aside from the fact that a single security alert would lock this entire medical wing down before you could even finish unzipping your trousers, there is a much more practical bottleneck standing in your way. Her name is Angel."

The sudden mention of his girlfriend's name made Odin's fingers freeze slightly against her uniform.

Celine's smile remained bright and poised as she delivered the final blow. "You see, Officer, your beloved little snowflake is currently lying in the next room with her neck heavily stitched together. If you waste your remaining energy trying to break me on this floor, I might just get distracted during her next post-operative checkup. It would be an absolute tragedy if I accidentally miscalculated her medication dosage because my wrists were sore from your rough play, wouldn't it? Let's be a good boy and save that hard rock energy for the girl who actually went into Hell to find you."

Odin couldn't help but let out an appreciative grunt, thoroughly outnegotiated. He genuinely really liked the girl's razor-sharp grit and lack of fear. "You're fucking something else, Celine. I really like your style. I'll give you that."

He laughed quietly for a bit, finally relaxing his heavy grip and letting go of her body, allowing his hard cock to slide away from her rear. He still needs to go check up on Angel... although he wasn't too worried about her immediate vitals since Ariana had already explicitly told him that she was safe... the only lingering concern left in his brain was... will she actually be able to talk? Ariana had said it was a very small chance due to the vocal damage, but still... you never know with a torn throat.

Celine calmly adjusted her apron, her lips parting as she turned back to her desk. "You know, speaking of style, your current bone alignment is quite fascinating, Odin. The way your collarbone connects to your sternum is rather beautiful. It reminds me of a pristine, unblemished ribcage I studied during my training. It would make a lovely decorative piece for a medical lobby once the flesh completely rots away."

Odin rolled his eyes, a dry grin splitting his lips. "Damn. That was actually pretty fucking morbid, sweetheart."

She only smiled gently at him, pointing her finger toward the corridor. "Go take a shower, Officer. You stink like raw gasoline and burnt tar."

Odin took that as his official cue to leave and shower.

As he reached for his discarded gear, Celine told him to not even bother picking up his old shirt, stating it was going straight into the bio-hazard incinerator anyway. His blood-stained uniform coat could go right into the trash along with it.

Odin listened to her advice and nodded his head before leaving the examination room. He stepped out into the clean, white-tiled corridor, looking at the heavy door positioned directly opposite him. "The bathroom, probably," he muttered to himself.

He opened the door, and it was a spacious, sterile bathroom block. Resting neatly inside a woven wire basket on the bench was a black Team Rocket uniform variant neatly folded and prepared for him. It was a thick, high-neck black sweater featuring a massive, crimson-red "R" emblazoned boldly across the center chest, paired with a set of slim black cargo pants. Resting on the floor was a pair of black shoes that shared the exact design profile of black Air Force 1s... but featured a hidden, heavy metal reinforcement throughout the sole and toe box, built distinctly for combat and field survival. A pair of sleek black leather gloves finished the set.

"Perfect," Odin said, stripping down.

He then entered the glass stall and began showering under the blasting hot water, his mind drifting away as he thought about how long it would be until his operations finally transferred down to Vermilion City. He had been itching to explore a bit of Kanto. He was honestly getting entirely tired of the dull, rocky landscape of Pewter City. Vermilion City seemed like a lot of fun with its active shipping channels and ocean routes. Maybe I should take up fishing as a legitimate hobby down there? Odin thought, a cynical grin forming through the steam. With my system , I could just walk along the docks, scan the water for any high-potential wild Pokémon's, and keep fishing them out of the sea. Make a massive mountain of cash and have Angel use her to cooking skills to cook me up some seven-star premium seafood inside our apartment... though I honestly can't stand the raw, pungent smell of fish. Perhaps I'll even get a permanent water affinity if spend enough hours fishing in the port.

Soon, the hot water stream shut off, and Odin was pulled straight back from his thoughts into the cold reality of the floor.

He spotted a fresh towel and quickly dried his long hair and body off. Then, he reached into the basket to put on the boxers prepared for him... thanking his luck that the sizing was a generous XXL.

He put on the rest of the uniform clothes, checking his image in the wide glass mirror. Flashed back at him were his dead black eyes, and he could see a heavy set of dark exhaustion circles deeply engraved beneath his eyelids. "I need a serious rest... I need some actual sleep," he muttered to his reflection. He looked at his damp black hair and decided not to tie it up into the half-updo this time, leaving the long, straight locks hanging loosely around his shoulders in a wild, unbothered style.

He got out of the shower room and walked back into the main medical room, where Celine was sitting quietly behind her desk, reviewing some digital data papers. She had her chin resting casually on her smooth palm, her amber eyes tracking his entrance.

He swaggered directly into the room, ignoring the tables as he went straight to the shelf to grab his charging phone.

"You actually smell decent now," Celine said in her trademark gentle tone, her voice smooth and warm.

"Thanks. Someone was kind enough to leave men's shampoo, conditioner, and even body wash inside the stall for me," Odin drawled as he disconnected the line and began turning on his PokéGear, waiting for the system interface to boot up.

"Yeah, that person was me," she said, keeping her tone very gentle and warm as she looked up from her charts. "Those are top-notch luxury brands from Celadon City; you can keep them, they are my personal gift to you."

"Oh, and from now on, use only those specific products from that brand for your hair and body," she continued, getting entirely into her beauty, fashion, and product mode, her calm and gentle voice carrying a soothing melody that could quiet a rampaging dragon. "They are quite pricey, but I'm sure the cost isn't an issue for your wallet. The brand is called Monarch. That's the brand's name, though you could just check the gold lettering yourself as you pocket the bottles into your bag."

"Monarch, huh?" Odin spoke enthusiastically, a cynical grin on his face as he inspected the sleek containers. "Sounds pretty fucking manly, that's for sure... well, since you are offering high-class freebies, my wallet won't say no. Thanks, babe," Odin flirted at the end.

Celine simply smiled and nodded her head, returning her focus completely back to her papers.

Bzzzz—Ding! Ding! Ding!

The exact second Odin's PokéGear finished booting up and connected to the base's internal network, the device violently detonated with a relentless, deafening storm of notification chimes. The digital interface completely lagged under the sheer volume of data crashing into the log.

He had over a hundred missed call notifications registered to his encryption line—all originating from Angel. And his text message inbox was a solid, unending wall of frantic spam.

He scrolled his thumb down the glass, his dead black eyes scanning the raw text messages. Every single line was a desperate, weeping scream:

Odin, where are you?

Please answer me.

Odin, are you okay?

What happened to you?

Will you be back?

Odin, don't leave me here!

I'm sorry!

Don't leave me, Odin!

Don't abandon me, Odin!

Will you make it back before dinner?

Are you coming home tomorrow?

Please call me back?

Talk to me!

Did I do something wrong?

Are you mad?

The text stream seemed to stretch on forever, a digital manifestation of her deepest, darkest psychological trauma bleeding out through the screen because his three-day absence had triggered her terrifying fear of abandonment. Eventually, Odin couldn't take the sight of the screen anymore and sharply clicked the power valve, shutting the PokéGear completely off. A massive, suffocating feeling of pure guilt washed over his core, and a heavy sadness washed over his chest as well.

He quietly walked out of the medical room, went back into the bathroom block, picked up all the luxury Monarch products Celine had gifted him, and came back into the medical room, packing them all tightly into his Pokébag in total silence.

Celine immediately noticed the weird, freezing shift in his vibe—the arrogant, flirting energy completely vanishing—but she smartly said absolutely nothing, letting him process the weight.

Odin stood quiet for a long while, his hands clenched deep inside his cargo pockets.

"Are you done?" Celine said, her voice dropping the playful edge as she stood up from her desk. "Do you wish to go see Angel now?"

"Yeah... take me to her," Odin said flatly, his tone completely cold.

She put down her papers and got up from her chair, and with her slender fingers, she signaled for Odin to follow her lead.

The two left the clean examination room and walked down the white-tiled hallway for a short while. It turned out the specialized room Angel was staying in wasn't that far away from them; it was located on the exact same floor, just down a different hallway and block.

They soon reached a heavy steel door with a glass observation slit.

"Are you ready?" Celine said, her amber eyes tracking his face.

"Mhm," Odin replied, his face a completely frozen mask.

She turned the handle, opening the door, and they both walked into the quiet room.

The low, clinical silence of the ward was instantly broken by the rhythmic, electronic drone of medical monitoring systems.

Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep...

The steady sound of her heart rate echoed off the sterile white walls. But Odin couldn't see her face yet; her hospital bed had a large privacy curtain pulled around it, and it was currently completely closed.

Odin stepped forward, his shoes making zero noise as he reached the edge of the fabric track. He took one deep, heavy breath to steady the storm in his chest, and then, with a sudden, rapid motion of his hand, he violently ripped the curtains completely open—

And there, lying under the harsh surgery lights, he saw his Angel.