As Snorlax stood in the middle of the field, it occupied nearly a third of the area.
Looking at that Snorlax, Ariel's eyes narrowed slightly.
The aura emanating from this Snorlax didn't seem to be its own.
Instead, it looked like it had been forcefully enhanced through long-term drug use.
"Cold Blade, this is your final hurdle."
Snorlax's Trainer was a gaunt old man with sinister eyes.
The battle began.
Malamar's attack landed on Snorlax's thick fat, only stirring up visible ripples before vanishing without a trace.
"Body Slam."
Snorlax seemed clumsy, but its explosive power was startling. It suddenly used Splash, and its massive shadow loomed over Malamar.
"Protect."
Malamar raised a green light shield, but under the weight of that Body Slam, the shield actually let out a strained creak.
"Encore, Body Slam."
The old man gave Ariel no room to breathe.
Snorlax's continuous pressure left Malamar with less and less room to move.
Ariel stared at Snorlax's seemingly impenetrable defense, his mind racing.
Fat, strength, defense.
But this Snorlax had a fatal weakness—it relied too heavily on this oppressive fighting style.
"Malamar, use Hypnosis, aim for its eyes."
"It's useless, my Snorlax has a firm will..."
Before the old man could finish his sentence, his expression suddenly changed.
Malamar didn't release Hypnosis from a distance; instead, taking advantage of the moment Snorlax used Splash again, it proactively dove beneath its belly.
Close range, full power output.
Blue-purple light refracted repeatedly within the narrow space.
Snorlax's massive body stiffened in the air before crashing heavily onto the ground.
Although it didn't immediately fall into a deep sleep, the intense drowsiness made its movements incredibly sluggish.
"Now, Contrary!"
Ariel seized this fleeting opportunity.
To maintain such terrifying explosive power, Snorlax had long been taking strength-enhancing drugs, resulting in numerous stat buffs within its body.
Under the effect of Contrary, those enhanced strengths instantly turned into heavy burdens.
Snorlax let out a terrified whimper as it found its prideful strength rapidly draining away, replaced by endless weakness.
"Dark Pulse, maximum power!"
Malamar concentrated all its remaining energy into a pitch-black beam of light, piercing straight at Snorlax's throat.
That was the weakest point of its defense.
Boom—!
A massive explosion echoed throughout the underground casino.
Snorlax's massive frame swayed in the smoke and dust, finally collapsing like a falling city wall with a loud bang, completely unconscious.
Five consecutive victories.
The entire venue was deathly silent; one could hear a pin drop.
Ariel recalled Malamar and walked expressionlessly toward the registration desk.
He took the heavy bag of league coins and the piece of high-purity Charcoal.
In the shadows of the second-floor stands, the man moved.
He stood up, most of his body still hidden in the darkness, with only his slender fingers lightly tapping the expensive mahogany railing.
At his feet, the pitch-Black Charmander let out a low, short hiss, the purple flame on its tail suddenly flaring up a few inches, scorching the surrounding air into a slight distortion.
Ariel withdrew his gaze, not stopping his pace despite the other's stare.
"Mr. Cold Blade, please wait."
The man who looked like a butler from before had somehow blocked Ariel's path.
He bowed slightly, his tone polite yet carrying an undeniable firmness:
"Our boss would like to invite you up for a cup of tea."
Ariel stopped, his eyes behind the mask glancing over the other man's wrist.
There was an inconspicuous burn mark there, its shape very strange.
"Not interested."
Ariel's voice was as cold as ice.
"The boss said if you are interested in the source of that Charcoal, or if you want your Malamar to go a step further, he can give you a reason you can't refuse."
The butler stepped aside and made a "please" gesture.
Ariel silent for a moment.
The bait had been cast; if he refused too bluntly, it would seem suspicious.
"Lead the way."
Passing through a long corridor covered with thick carpets, the noise gradually faded, replaced by an oppressive silence.
At the end of the corridor was a massive double-leaf oak door, with two burly men standing guard whose temples bulged prominently and whose waists were bulging, clearly carrying heavy firepower.
The door opened.
The interior was extremely luxurious, with a huge floor-to-ceiling window facing the arena below, offering the best view to look down upon the madness of the gamblers.
The man known as the boss sat in a large leather swivel chair, swirling a glass of amber liquid.
Ariel's gaze immediately landed on the Black Charmander.
Upon close observation, the sense of dissonance was even stronger.
Its scales had none of the luster a living creature should have, instead showing a stone-like deadness.
Most importantly, its breathing rate was extremely fast, its chest heaving violently as if a volcano ready to erupt at any moment was inside its body.
Ariel inconspicuously activated the Pokémon pokédex's scanning function.
"Charmander, level 20, ability Solar Power, black skin caused by some kind of ore radiation, extremely unstable emotions, strong attack power. Detected vital signs are extremely unstable; although it has exceeded its evolution level, its own genes are suppressing it..."
Information successfully recorded; the data for this Charmander has now been saved in Ariel's pokédex.
"Sit."
Soro spoke, his voice somewhat hoarse, as if his throat were filled with sand.
"Cold Blade? Quite an aggressive name."
Ariel didn't sit, only looking at him coldly:
"Speak plainly; my time is expensive."
Soro chuckled and set down his glass.
"In Fallarbor Town, no one has ever dared to speak to me like that. However, geniuses always have privileges. Your commanding style is very special—calm, precise, even carrying a... bloodthirsty scent that is very familiar to me."
He stood up and walked over to Ariel, his eyes burning:
"You aren't like those drifters who risk their lives for a few league coins. There is ambition in your eyes, and hatred. Let me guess, the illegitimate son of some great family? Or a fallen genius stripped of his inheritance rights?"
The corner of Ariel's eye twitched slightly; though hidden by the mask, this tiny emotional ripple was accurately caught by Soro's eyes.
This was exactly what Ariel wanted.
He remained silent for a long time before saying in a voice suppressed with anger, "That has nothing to do with you."
"Of course it does."
Soro spread his arms as if showcasing his kingdom.
"I have money, resources, and some good things that the League explicitly forbids. And you, you need an opportunity to prove yourself, to take back what belongs to you. We can cooperate."
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