A week passed in the blink of an eye.
This clearing had completely changed its appearance.
The once lush grass had been trampled down to expose black and yellow soil, with scorch marks and craters left by energy moves visible everywhere.
Ariel stood on a relatively intact rock, looking down at the fifty members of Team Evil standing straight below.
In just seven days, the temperament of this group had undergone an earth-shattering transformation.
If a week ago they were a bunch of street thugs relying on numbers to get by through deception and trickery, now they showed the rudimentary form of an iron-blooded army.
Their posture, gaze, and aura were all completely different.
"Number Twenty, Number Eighteen, step forward."
Ariel's voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly.
Two members immediately stepped forward, their movements crisp and clean.
"You two, battle."
Without any redundant words, the moment the order was given, both threw their Poké Balls.
An Arbok and a Golbat.
Both were Elite Level.
"Remember what I taught you: you are not facing a Pokémon, but a Trainer."
Ariel's voice rang out faintly, sounding like a reminder and a warning.
The battle erupted instantly!
Number Twenty's Arbok slithered out; instead of using Poison Sting or Bite immediately, it whipped its tail, kicking up sand and dust from the ground and flinging it straight at Number Eighteen's face!
This was exactly the simplest and most unscrupulous tactic Ariel had taught—using surrounding objects to interfere with the opponent's vision.
Battles weren't turn-based games; being able to affect the opposing Trainer was the greatest advantage.
Number Eighteen was clearly well-versed in this as well. He remained calm, not even looking at his Golbat; while sidestepping to avoid the dust, a single word escaped his mouth.
"Supersonic!"
Invisible sound waves spread instantly, and Arbok's movements visibly stuttered as it fell into confusion.
Almost at the same time, Number Eighteen himself pulled a gleaming switchblade from his waist and lunged it toward Number Twenty's thigh!
Number Twenty's reaction was also extremely fast; instead of retreating, he advanced, kicking toward Number Eighteen's wrist.
"Clang!"
The switchblade flew out of his hand.
The scene had shifted from a Pokémon battle into a street brawl.
The surrounding members watched with great interest, and some even began placing small bets.
"I bet Number Twenty wins; his Arbok's Glare is well-trained."
"Bullshit, Number Eighteen plays dirty! Look at him, he's about to pull something else out!"
Ariel did not stop them.
This was exactly the effect he wanted.
Team Rockets was no prestigious or righteous sect; they focused on using any means necessary and how to exchange the smallest price for the greatest victory.
Sneak attacks, underhanded tricks, and ganging up—these unseemly methods were their bread and butter.
What he taught was how to push these skills to the limit.
How to seize gaps in the opponent's commands, how to use a Pokémon's body as cover, how to utilize the environment, and how to deliver a fatal blow when the opponent thinks the battle is over.
These were all experiences summarized from countless life-and-death struggles.
Watching the two scuffling below, Ariel's eyes didn't flicker in the slightest.
These people were the blades in his hand; naturally, they had to be sharpened in the harshest way.
This week of special training had yielded remarkable results.
And Ariel's own gains were equally significant.
In the dead of night, he would train alone.
The cold air around Weavile became increasingly condensed, and its speed was so fast that it only left a blurred shadow under the moonlight.
Finally, one night, accompanied by a suppressed low growl, an aura far exceeding the Elite Level erupted from its body.
Gym Leader Level!
Ariel's fifth Gym Leader Level Pokémon was born.
Feeling the icy aura from Weavile that could almost freeze the soul, Ariel's heart remained calm.
This was expected; it was simply a matter of long-term accumulation finally paying off.
Ariel's other Pokémon had also increased by one level each.
He was more concerned about the other two little fellows.
Deino had grown quite a bit; its temperament was still irritable, but it was much more docile toward Ariel.
After devouring a massive amount of energy cubes, its level had steadily risen to Level 40.
"Roar!"
With a roar, a purple-black Energy Ball gathered in its mouth and then shot out violently, exploding in mid-air and turning into countless small falling meteors.
Draco Meteor!
It could now be released stably, with quite impressive range and destructive power.
To Ariel's surprise, it had also learned Dragon Pulse on its own.
This future Hydreigon was growing at an astonishing speed.
As for Larvitar...
Ariel looked at the little fellow who was currently clutching a piece of ore and munching on it with great relish, feeling somewhat helpless.
The cavern at the Last Stand stronghold had indeed been treated as an all-you-can-eat buffet by it.
Rocks, mineral veins, and everything containing energy had gone into its stomach.
However, the effect was far inferior to the time at Mt. Pyre.
Over the week, it had only increased by two levels, reaching Level 27.
"Still too slow..."
Ariel calculated in his mind.
The growth cycle of a Tyranitar was naturally long; to speed up its maturation, he had to have top-tier energy sources.
Ordinary rock and mineral veins were just snacks to it.
It seemed he needed to find a way to get something more nourishing.
On the morning the special training ended, Ariel gathered everyone.
"From today on, you have only one mission."
His gaze swept over everyone, and they all subconsciously straightened their backs.
"Go to the mission hall and take on Team Rockets' missions. Any mission will do; the richer the rewards, the better. Bring back as many resources as you can get for me."
"Yes! Lord Ruth!"
The fifty people roared in unison, their voices shaking the trees.
Ariel nodded, said no more, turned, and left.
Team Evil was already on the right track; next was to let them continue growing in actual combat while seizing more resources for himself.
And he, too, should go attend to his own business.
Ever Grande City.
The location of the Hoenn League headquarters, a holy land in the hearts of countless Trainers.
The city's architectural style was unique, with the massive League main stadium rising and falling like ocean waves, shining brilliantly under the sun.
At the port, ships came and went like shuttles; in the sky, powerful Flying-type Pokémon occasionally streaked past.
The air here seemed to be permeated with the aura of the strong.
Ariel walked alone on the city streets.
He wasn't like other newly arrived Trainers, full of curiosity and awe for everything around him.
His gaze was very calm, as calm as if he were inspecting his own territory.
In his mind, the old man's deep and powerful voice unconsciously echoed.
"Once you've collected eight badges, you can come directly to Ever Grande City to find me."
Drake.
The head of the Hoenn Elite Four, the Dragon-type Elite.
Ariel took out the eight badges he had obtained from different Gyms and weighed them in his palm, making a crisp clinking sound.
To him, the eight badges were merely tickets to the next stage.
He looked up, his gaze piercing through the bustling crowd toward the most majestic building in the distance—the Hoenn League Headquarters.
Drake, I'm here.
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