Pokemon Dark Tidings.

Pewter city, Kanto.

The night air in Pewter City was crisp and cool, the stars glittering above the quiet expanse of trees that surrounded the makeshift seating area on his property. A roaring fire crackled in the center of the clearing, its warm glow casting flickering shadows over the ground. Karen sat nearby, her legs comfortably curled into her Houndoom and Sneasel, who both lay at her feet. The flicker of the fire danced across her face, giving her silver hair an ethereal shimmer as she absentmindedly stroked Sneasel's sleek fur.

Ezra sat opposite her, staring into the fire with an intensity that seemed almost unnatural. His crimson eyes reflected the flames as he was trapped in his own thoughts, far from the fire and the present. For once, his usual smirk was nowhere to be found, replaced by a contemplative expression. None of his Pokemon were with him tonight - they had been left to train in the nearby woods under his general instructions, giving him a rare moment of solitude.

Karen shifted slightly, growing tired of the prolonged silence. "Are you still hung up about things?" She finally asked, breaking the quiet. Her voice was laced with a mix of curiosity and impatience.

Ezra remained silent for a few moments longer, still watching the fire as if it held all the answers to his inner turmoil. His brows furrowed slightly, replaying his recent battle with Whitney over and over again in his mind as if was playing out inside the flames, the movements of the Pokemon, his choices, his miscalculations. "I'm... Reflecting," He answered slowly, his voice low, as if the weight of the thoughts made it harder to speak. "I did almost everything wrong, and I need to remember that for the future..."

Karen snorted, leaning back and folding her arms. "You still won." There was a trace of annoyance in her voice, her eyes narrowing slightly as she observed him. For someone who had claimed victory, he was being far too serious about the whole thing, she thought.

Ezra shook his head, finally tearing his gaze from the flames to glance at her. "I won because of luck," He corrected her, his tone tinged with self-reproach. "And because Whitney wasn't really fighting with her heart in it. She still 'owed' me in her eyes."

It was annoying to admit. But it was the truth, Whitney could have done much better, and had limited herself. And still, he'd only barely won, Cheshire evolving at the end in a stroke of luck.

Karen growled under her breath, her expression darkening at the mention of Whitney. She looked away from him, her fingers tightening slightly in Sneasel's fur. "How that girl is a gym leader... No sense of decorum at all!" She spat, clearly still harboring her own frustrations about the pink-haired gym leader.

Ezra's lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile, amused by Karen's obvious jealousy, but he didn't let it distract him from his introspection. "I was arrogant," He admitted, his voice quiet but firm, as the realization had been weighing on him for the past few days. He didn't even take the chance to tease Karen about the kiss she and Whitney shared, truly he was off his game…

Karen shot him a look, raising an eyebrow. "No, really, you? Arrogant?" She said with mock surprise, her words dripping with sarcasm.

Ezra rolled his eyes, but the tint of humor in her voice was a welcome break from his brooding. "There's nothing wrong with arrogance in general," He replied, "As long as it doesn't go to your head. This was a good wake-up call for me because that's exactly what happened." His voice was sharper now, more self-critical. "I didn't do my research, I brought an unprepared Pokemon into the battle, and I failed to utilize Akuma as my trump card."

Frankly, he had done so many things wrong in that battle. Some moves were right, but for the most part, he had been a fool. Wasting Loki immediately, bringing Morrigan into it at all… Starting with Rider instead of leading off with Akuma charging in…

Then failing Akuma by dismissing the threat against him, making him stationary, an easy target…

Karen sighed, her frustration bubbling over as she leaned forward slightly. "Yet you still won," She pointed out again, exasperated. "So you screwed up - every trainer does. Learn from your mistakes, yadda yadda, but you've done nothing but pout for days, and it's getting annoying!"

Ezra tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a familiar, mischievous smirk. "Oh? Are you saying you miss my usual charm?" He latched onto the opportunity, his tone shifting back to its teasing cadence. "Karen? Why didn't you tell me you were sad that I hadn't flirted with you lately?"

Karen gave him a dry, unimpressed look, though there was a faint flush of color rising to her cheeks. "Of course, that's how you take it, idiot." She scoffed, "At least you're not sounding as mopey now…"

"Don't worry," Ezra continued, his grin widening as he leaned back on his hands, his voice dripping with feigned innocence. "I'll still call you cute when you're ~mad."

Karen scoffed again, but the pink tint on her cheeks deepened. She flicked her gaze toward the fire, trying to hide her reaction. "Your Pokemon flirt better than you," She said brutally, throwing the comment at him with a smirk of her own.

Ezra's smirk faltered slightly at the reminder, his mind flashing back to the battle with Whitney and how Attract had completely messed with his strategy. "Yeah, well..." He muttered, the memory clearly still a sore spot.

It had highlighted another of his faults. He hadn't bothered preparing for his opponent, what tactics and moves they might use. At the very least he'd know better now. He'd already begun studying up on all the known Pokemon and general tactics of the Gym Leaders around this area of Kanto, as a precaution.

Pewter had been easy to figure out. It was all about overwhelming force and steadfast defense. Nothing he couldn't crack, although this time he wouldn't leave it at just that. Not that he planned to hit the gym anytime soon, he had work to do first…

Karen's curiosity got the better of her, and she leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with interest. "What did you do with Skill Swap to make it work that way, anyway?" She asked, her tone probing. "And when? I train with you, and I don't remember that ever happening."

Ezra just tapped the side of his nose, his smirk returning as he remained coy. "A magician never reveals his secrets," He teased, drawing a frustrated groan from Karen as she fell back into her seat.

Inwardly, Ezra was thinking about how careful he had to be. He didn't mind showing off some training techniques in front of her, the ones that didn't matter too much, but there were deeper strategies he practiced when she wasn't around. He always waited until after she was asleep to conduct his more advanced training sessions with his Pokemon - especially the ones involving his aura. Merging moves and abilities together was an edge he wasn't ready to give up, not even to Karen.

Speaking of which... He glanced up at the moon, calculating the time in his head.

"Time for bed, isn't it?" He said casually, as if the idea had only just crossed his mind.

Karen rolled her eyes, stretching her arms above her head as she stood, her Houndoom and Sneasel stirring from their positions. "What, we have a bedtime now, gramps?" She teased, though she couldn't resist the satisfied stretch that tightened her shirt in all the right places, highlighting her chest, before she recalled her Pokemon, fastening the balls to her belt.

Ezra watched, his crimson eyes sharp and amused as he caught the slight smirk on her lips. Karen would have to work harder if she thought he'd be flustered by something so simple. When she left she was swaying her hips just a little as she walked toward the stables and her guest room. "Sweet dreams," She said somewhat tauntingly over her shoulder.

Ezra raised an eyebrow, chuckling to himself. Nice try, he thought, fully aware that she was trying to mess with him. But if she thought he'd be rattled by a little sway of the hips, she'd underestimated him. He made sure to enjoy the sight for a moment, though, before getting up to follow her lead, making his way toward his own room. Not that he was intending to sleep.

As soon as Karen was in fact asleep, he'd have one of his Ghosts use Hypnosis again, ensuring that she stayed in her slumber while he did some real training with his Pokemon. The thoughts flickered in his mind once more as he thought about the way he'd managed to tweak Skill Swap, how he'd cobbled together several techniques to bend it into something new.

Now the question was... What else could he achieve?

Ezra's eyes gleamed with ambition, his thoughts drifting toward the future battles he'd face, and the new strategies he'd need to come out on top.

Tonight, he would push his Pokemon further, beyond what they thought possible. The path to mastery was still long, but every step took him closer.

His aura helping him get across to his Pokemon in a way other trainers couldn't - coupled with how it could boost their stamina, was really the worst cheat of them all…

An hour later,

The night air in the forest around Ezra's stable was alive with the sound of training - cries of exertion, the rush of wind from quick movements, and the hum of energy as his Pokemon pushed themselves through another intense session. Shadows flickered between the trees as the moonlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting an eerie glow over the clearing.

Ezra walked around the edge of the clearing, his arms crossed, his crimson eyes gleaming with intent. Around him, his Pokemon moved in pairs or small groups, engaged in mock battles designed to improve their speed and reflexes while learning to utilize their energy in a new way. Each ghost and dark type was pushed to the limit, their bodies straining under the effort of faster dodges, more fluid attacks, and quicker recoveries. They had no choice but to rely on instinct, their bodies reacting without hesitation.

Ezra thought it was the main reason why Pokemon performed better, grew stronger, and evolved in battle - more than training.

Pokemon didn't think like a human, so training usually only did so much for most trainers he suspected, as the Pokemon couldn't quite internalize it all. But when you worked them to an instinctive level… Like in a battle, that's where they thrived, their bodies made to improve from such instincts.

Of course since he could make himself understood to his 'mon to a level most trainers couldn't… Both ways could work.

Ezra watched closely as Morrigan, his Dreepy, zipped around the clearing in a blur of motion. She had taken well to his coaching, surrounding herself in a shell of her own ghostly energy to propel herself through the air. Something the others were struggling with. It was like using ExtremeSpeed, yet not.

Not a technique in full, or perhaps he was making a new one - energy directed around them to allow them to move and turn in ways they normally couldn't - and boosting their speed in exchange for the cost of stamina.

Her speed was impressive, but her control still needed work. Every few seconds, she veered off course and slammed headfirst into a tree, bouncing back with a dizzy shake before zipping off again. Ezra chuckled softly to himself. Directions were still an issue, obviously, but the raw potential was there.

"Focus on control, Morrigan," Ezra called out, his voice calm but firm. "Speed is useless if you're crashing into everything in sight, you already got the beginnings down, no need to rush."

Morrigan let out a determined cry, spiraling around one of the trees in the distance before quickly correcting herself to avoid a second collision. She zoomed through the clearing like a streak of shadow, moving faster than any of his other ghost types were capable of as of yet.

As Ezra turned his attention to the others, he knew Morrigan was the exception of the training so far. The others were still struggling.

Nyx, his Spiritomb, floated lazily in place, her eerie face peering at him, the Keystone hovering underneath her, which seemed to be what was throwing her off from utilizing the technique the same way. She was attempting to use her ghostly essence around herself to push herself forward, but the movements were sluggish, uncoordinated, and nowhere near the sharpness that Ezra wanted. She was still thinking too much, he realized - trying to strategize, to map out every move before making it.

"No hesitation, Nyx," Ezra advised as he strolled past her. "You're overthinking it. Trust your instincts. When you see an opening, go for it and then just keep moving, just let your energy flow."

Nyx's 'eyes' glimmered as she absorbed his words, trying again. Her essence shuddered, flickering outward as she forced her body to move faster. It was better than before, but still, she wasn't zipping around with the fluidity of Morrigan. Nyx was a more cerebral fighter, methodical, and getting her to simply move without thought was a challenge on its own.

Nearby, Loki, his Banette, darted around as well, his stitched grin stretched wide as he zipped across the field, laughing as he avoided attacks from the Murkrow that swooped above him. While his ghostly energy wrapped around him like a cloak of sorts, almost exactly as intended, Loki still had a penchant for mischief, stopping mid-dodge to taunt his opponent or pull a trick. Ezra sighed softly at the sight, knowing that Loki was more concerned with toying with the Murkrow than actually getting faster.

"Loki, less tricks. More dodging." His voice was sharp even as he was slightly amused. "This isn't playtime."

Loki shot him a wicked grin, but his movements quickened, his body now darting with more purpose as he narrowly avoided Murkrow's attacks. Ezra watched the ghost and dark types clash, each trying to outmaneuver the other. The training was working, though progress was slow.

It would be energy draining… There was no way around that. His 'mon using their energy to constantly be mobile would cost them, but the more they practiced, the less the drain would be in the end. And mobility in combat would be priceless. Both in himself and other trainers, he'd seen too much of the habit of standing still and exchanging techniques.

Hence attempting to get his Ghosts to enhance themselves, coating themselves in a thin layer of their energy, that they then used to propel themselves in any direction, at any time, in hopes of making them truly unpredictable.

His dark types, on the other hand, required a different approach. Unlike his ghost types, they couldn't propel themselves with a shell of ethereal energy, at least not in the same way. Their power came from something more tangible - darkness that fueled their limbs, strength that coursed through their physical forms.

Alduin was zipping around almost as fast as Morrigan, albeit using his energy differently. He'd have to see about battling some regular trainers soon, get Alduin and Morrigan some actual experience before taking them to a gym battle again.

He had his Dark Pokemon working on channeling their energy into their limbs, or out of them, specifically to increase speed and reaction time, and while the results weren't as dramatic as with the ghost types, they were improving steadily. Murkrow, in particular, was already doing well, able to zip through the air with quick bursts of dark energy that allowed his 'mon to change direction almost instantly.

Not only were they enhancing their limbs, Ezra hadn't left it at just that… They were also practicing short bursts of dark energy from said limbs when they needed a burst of movement. Comparable he supposed, to Soru, from the One Piece Anime he'd watched in his old world.

Again, it meant they were doing a sort of bastardized ExtremeSpeed, one they could keep up indefinitely.

Well… Until they ran out of energy.

Which granted, would happen fast. But he could work on that. Or cheat with his aura worst case to refill them a bit.

Ezra kept a close eye on Murkrow as she continued her battle with Loki. Her movements were sharp, her flight patterns unpredictable. Each time Loki tried to grab her or fire off a Shadow Ball, she would twist in the air, banking sharply and avoiding the attack by mere inches. Her growing mastery over dark energy was evident - she'd learned to let the power fuel her wings, speeding her up at critical moments before - now she could also flip on a dime by letting out short bursts.

"Good, Murkrow!" Ezra called out, his voice carrying over the clearing. "Keep it up - don't let him catch you."

Murkrow cawed in response, her form twisting in mid-air as she narrowly avoided another strike from Loki. It was also working to engage Loki into taking things seriously. So Ezra considered it a job well done.

His eyes narrowed in thought, as he watched Akuma move away from attempting to coat himself in a shell like the other Ghost Pokemon, watching his dark brethren instead, stomping his feet on the ground.

Ezra watched for a few minutes, Akuma's partner, Ezra's Houndor, giving him time while working on her own skills.

His Eevee was following him, and he picked her up and pet her, idly thinking he'd need to start using her to battle and train properly soon, their bond hopefully enough for an Umbreon to coalesce.

Suddenly Akuma exploded into the air, dust and earth shooting off as ghostly energies erupted under one of his feet, only for Akuma to bounce midair, letting loose another small blast from his foot, slamming into the ground. "Akuma… Keep practicing that." He ordered, almost salivating at the thought of Akuma becoming that mobile.

That was…

That would give him so many options…

He soon left him to it, keeping an eye on the rest of his 'mon.

The mock battles were doing their job with the rest of them. Ezra had realized long ago that his Pokemon performed better when they weren't given too much time to think. Forced into fast-paced, instinctual fighting, they became more efficient, more dangerous. They were learning through experience, using their bodies to grow instead of relying on mental preparation or repetition of moves and movements.

As he walked behind them, Ezra's own shadow extended and stretched along the ground, slapping away any stray techniques that came too close to him. His eyes darted from one battle to the next, offering advice here and there, adjusting stances, critiquing mistakes. "Never be static," He reminded them. "The moment you stop moving is the moment you lose."

It was a lesson he had failed to enforce with Akuma during the gym battle with Whitney. He'd underestimated his opponent, grown complacent, and allowed Akuma to stand still for far too long, making him a sitting target for that damned Earthquake. It was a failure Ezra would not repeat.

Several 'mon on his team levitated or flew, giving them the advantage of a three-dimensional battlefield - so why keep the rest limited? He wouldn't let that happen again. His Pokemon should always be moving, always looking for their next opportunity, no matter where it came from. He had failed to maximize his advantages. Failed to cover for his weaknesses.

Now, he was determined to fix that.

As he continued to observe, his attention was drawn to a particular mock battle happening nearby. Cheshire, his newly evolved Gengar, was grinning wickedly as he squared off against Duskull. The little ghost Pokemon floated in the air, her single red eye burning with fierce determination as she faced off against her much stronger opponent. Duskull, despite her size and limited abilities, was holding her own better than Ezra had expected.

Cheshire taunted the Duskull constantly, firing off Shadow Balls and flicking his tongue out playfully, trying to goad the smaller Pokemon into making mistakes. But Duskull remained focused. Ezra could sense the intense determination radiating from her, it was almost palpable in the air. She was straining, trying to move faster, to surround herself with ghostly energy and zip around like Morrigan, but she was still struggling. Each time she tried to propel herself, she faltered, her movements jerky and uncoordinated.

Ezra considered stepping in to help, but something held him back. There was a fire in Duskull's eye that told him to wait, to let her push itself. The frustration in her movements was clear - she was desperate to keep up, to match Cheshire's speed. His Gengar, ever still the trickster, was only making it harder, popping in and out of the shadows and flicking Lick attacks at Duskull whenever she got too close.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of taunting, Cheshire managed to land a solid hit, catching Duskull off guard with a surprise Lick coming out of a Shadow Sneak. The smaller ghost yelped, shuddering from the attack as it recoiled backward, her body flickering with ghostly energy. For a moment, Ezra thought the fight was over, that Duskull would retreat.

But then, something changed.

A roar of frustration echoed through the clearing, and Duskull's entire body began to glow. Her ghostly form expanded, growing larger, more defined, as it was enveloped in a bright, white light. Ezra's eyes widened in surprise, recognizing the telltale signs of evolution. He just hadn't expected another one so soon. "Maybe you're next." He muttered to the Eevee in his arms.

Cheshire, equally surprised, backed away, his grin widening as he watched the transformation unfold before him.

Duskull's form stretched and contorted, her body taking on a new, larger shape. The white light grew brighter, pulsing with power as the little ghost type grew, its limbs elongating. Within moments, the glowing figure of Duskull had evolved into something far more intimidating - a Dusclops.

The newly evolved Dusclops let out a low, eerie growl, her single red eye gleaming with power as she floated before Cheshire. The air around her seemed to warp and twist, as if reality itself was bending in response to her presence.

Ezra couldn't help but smirk at the sight. Evolution, especially while training, was always a sign that his training was working. The raw potential that had been simmering beneath the surface had come to the forefront.

This was proof his methods worked.

"Well, well," Ezra muttered to himself, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "That wasn't quite what I had in mind for speed training... But obviously something's working."

Dusclops wasted no time. With a cry of victory, she hurled a much improved Shadow Ball straight at Cheshire, who was still caught off guard by the sudden evolution.

Cheshire pouted at him when he began laughing and praising Dusclops. But really, she deserved the praise.

He'd just have to give Cheshire someone to prank later, that would make him happy again.

Now who was the literally only person always around him available to prank?

Hmm?

A few days later,

The streets of Pewter City were alive with color, sound, and movement. Streamers of black, brown, and white hung between buildings, fluttering in the breeze. Vendors lined the streets, their stands overflowing with sweets, trinkets, and all manner of festival foods. The air smelled of grilled meats and sugary treats, mixing with the faint scent of pine from the nearby forest. Laughter and the excited shouts of children echoed from every corner as people moved through the city, embracing the holiday spirit of Victory Day.

Ezra walked beside Karen, who, oddly enough, was the one with the pep in her step today. She moved with uncharacteristic cheerfulness, her silver hair bouncing slightly as she practically floated through the street. It was strange to see her so buoyant, and Ezra had to admit it amused him.

Usually, she was more inclined to sulking or scowling - mostly because of his actions, to be fair - but two of her Pokemon had evolved in the past few days. It gave her an extra spark of confidence. With his stable available for her as well, she'd been able to bring along more Pokemon then the carrying limit of six, and had gotten some good training done.

Pewter City itself was dressed to the nines for the festival, celebrating a holiday that Ezra hadn't even known existed - Victory Day. It wasn't something they celebrated in Lavender Town, where he'd spent most of his time in this world

But here in Pewter, it seemed to be a major event. Even the outskirts of the city were transformed, with a circus tent set up just outside town limits where a troupe performed with their Pokemon every hour on the hour, focusing on entertainment rather than battles. They were apparently fairly well known, even if Ezra personally had never heard of them. But then, he hadn't even realized there was such a thing to begin with.

He was definitely still lacking in information about the world he inhabited, having not finished his education, as it were, in Lavender.

Still, it was a welcome change of pace after several days of intense training. Ezra had invited Karen to join him for the festival, if only to unwind a bit after the grueling sessions they'd both put themselves and their Pokemon through.

Oddly enough, she hadn't seemed to notice it was sort of a date - something that both amused and slightly frustrated him. He teased her constantly, enjoying how easily she flushed at his words, but the moment he asked her to join him for something that most people would consider a date, she hadn't even blinked.

But Ezra wasn't about to complain. After all, he liked having Karen in a good mood almost as much as he liked having her mad - it made her fun to be around, and today was shaping up to be one of those rare occasions when she was in a good mood.

"So, where to first?" Karen asked, her voice bright as she surveyed the stalls and vendors lining the street. She seemed almost overwhelmed by the sheer number of options.

Ezra smirked, stepping closer to her as they walked. "Let's start with the games," He suggested, nodding toward a section of the festival where several stands were set up for carnival-style activities. "I'd like to see if you're as good with your hands as you are with your Pokemon."

Karen rolled her eyes but didn't seem bothered by the innuendo. "If I beat you, you're buying me whatever I want," She said, her tone challenging.

Ezra raised an eyebrow, inwardly pouting that she didn't bite. "Deal."

The first stall they stopped at was one of the more classic carnival games - a ring toss. The rings were designed to land on the necks of small long necked Pokemon figures, with varying prizes depending on how many rings you managed to land. Of course, the figurines were small, and the rings were designed to bounce off at the slightest touch, making it more of a game of luck than skill.

"I'll go first," Karen declared confidently, stepping up to the booth and taking the rings from the attendant.

Ezra watched as she lined up her shot, the sunlight glinting off her skin as she focused on the figurines in front of her. With a quick flick of her wrist, she sent the first ring flying - and it bounced off the Gyarados figurine, spinning wildly before landing back at her feet. Karen narrowed her eyes, her mouth set in a determined line.

Ezra chuckled softly. "You're going to have to do better than that." He teased her, "Perhaps you aren't as handy as I thought."

"Shut up," She muttered, her cheeks tinting slightly red as she tried again.

The second ring hit the same figurine and bounced off once more, but the third managed to land perfectly, ringing the neck of the Gyarados with a soft clink. Karen grinned triumphantly, shooting a glance at Ezra as if daring him to do better.

"Not bad," He said, stepping up to the booth. He took the rings from her, flashing her a cocky grin. "But watch how it's really done."

Ezra tossed the first ring with a flick of his wrist, watching as it arced perfectly toward the same figurine - only to bounce off in almost the same way Karen's had. He blinked in mild surprise, but Karen's soft laugh made him shrug.

"Beginner's luck."

"Uh-huh," Karen said, crossing her arms, a smug grin on her face.

The second ring was no better, and by the third, Ezra was scowling slightly as it too missed the target. Karen burst out laughing, her eyes shining with amusement.

"Guess you're buying me something after all," She teased, giving him a playful nudge with her elbow.

Ezra grumbled good-naturedly, but the smile on his face betrayed his enjoyment of her mood. "Alright, what do you want?" He asked, glancing at the various prizes lining the shelves behind the booth.

You could win one by getting all three rings on to their targets, but since that likely literally never happened, they also sold the prizes.

Karen considered her options for a moment before pointing to a plush of a Houndour, her expression softening slightly. "That one."

Ezra handed over some money to the attendant, who passed him the plush. He turned to Karen, holding it out to her with an exaggerated flourish. "For the lady with the skillful hands."

Karen rolled her eyes again, though the slight blush on her cheeks remained as she took the plush from him. "Don't think this makes up for your teasing," She warned, though her smile was genuine.

They continued through the festival, stopping at various stalls and trying out different games. One stall featured a game where you had to toss berries into a Whimsicott's fluffy coat from a distance, each berry that stuck earning you points.

Ezra had no idea where they came up with some of these games…

He was staying far away from the toss the Magikarp game, which seemed a recipe for the one in a million chance of sudden Gyarados in your face. He was surprised they allowed it.

Ezra, with his experience in cheating, managed to land several berries with ease on the Whimsicott, by making sure to first land some near the Pokemon's mouth as tribute - while Karen struggled at first, the berries bouncing off the soft wool as the Pokemon kept moving at the last second, appearing to almost snicker at her.

"Why is this so hard?" Karen muttered, narrowing her eyes at the Whimsicott.

Ezra laughed, stepping up behind her to guide her hand. "You've got to have a lighter touch on the throw," He said, his voice low as he leaned in close.

Karen flushed, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. "If you don't move, I'll throw the berry at your head, followed by my fist." She threatened.

Ezra chuckled but didn't back off. "Go ahead. I'll still win."

Despite her grumbling, Karen managed to land a few berries with Ezra's guidance, though she insisted it was more luck than anything else. They moved on to other games, including one where they had to hit targets with a blowgun, while a Pidgey flew in erratic patterns to stop them by snapping up the berries they fired. Karen was surprisingly good at this one, getting several targets with ease, while Ezra only managed a couple.

He narrowed his eyes at the smug looking Pidgey, it had it out for him…

And why was everything done with fucking berries anyway?

Hours passed as they wandered from one part of the festival to the next. They tried carnival food - Ezra laughing with Karen as she dropped her ice cream on a kid's head 'by accident' while it was whining loudly - and they watched a few street performers who used their Pokemon in their acts, dazzling the crowds with synchronized tricks and acrobatics. The energy of the festival was infectious, and even Karen's usual guardedness seemed to fade as they immersed themselves in the festivities.

The streets were packed with people, many of whom were dressed in festival attire, their clothes adorned with the colors of Kanto or Pewter. Banners and streamers decorated every building, and flags bearing the emblem of Pewter City fluttered proudly in the breeze. Everywhere they went, people were laughing, singing, and enjoying the atmosphere of celebration.

Ezra and Karen passed by a group of old men, clearly drunk, their arms slung around each other's shoulders as they staggered down the street, singing loudly. The song they sang was rough, off-key, and could charitably be called a drunken anthem, but the lyrics were unmistakably rude.

"Fuck Johto, the asshole on the body of the world! Fuck Johto, where the rotten trash is hurled! We'll drink to Kanto, and spit on the rest, For Kanto's the only land that's truly the best!"

Karen stiffened beside him, her cheerfulness vanishing as the song reached her ears. As someone from Johto, she apparently couldn't help but feel offended at the casual disregard, and her hands clenched into fists as she growled. Ezra frankly didn't think it was that bad, but he knew Karen had a temper.

One of the drunks, catching her reaction, squinted at her through bleary eyes. "Oi, you! Johto whore, are ya?" He slurred, pointing a wobbly finger at her. "Don't like our song, do ya?"

Karen's eyes widened, shock and anger flashing across her face, but before she could respond, Ezra stepped forward, grabbing her arm and pulling her back. "Ignore him," Ezra said quietly, his voice tight with control. He might not have thought much of the song, but calling Karen a whore…

He usually enjoyed how quick Karen was to lose her temper, but in this situation it wouldn't be good unfortunately. He idly noted just how many drunk people were nearby on this street. A drunken mob could become a problem.

The drunk, however, wasn't done. "Go back to your cesspool of a region!" He shouted, staggering forward. "We don't need Johto scum here!"

Before the situation could escalate further, bystanders stepped in, pulling the drunk back. One of them whispered to him, and the drunk finally seemed to understand that he'd crossed a line. His friends dragged him away, though he continued to grumble under his breath.

Unfortunately he wasn't the only drunk, and some of them were eying him and Karen and muttering.

Ezra kept a firm grip on Karen's arm, holding her steady as she blinked in shock, clearly rattled by the sudden confrontation based simply on her nationality.

"Karen," He said softly, leaning in, "Let it go. He's not worth it, he's just a drunk."

Before Karen could fully process what had happened, another figure emerged from the crowd. Brock, the Pewter City Gym Leader's son, strode forward, his usually calm demeanor clouded with concern. He quickly placed himself between any other drunks and Karen, his broad shoulders and tall frame creating a solid barrier.

"Enough," Brock said firmly, addressing a few of the drunk men who were still muttering slurs. His voice carried authority, and it cut through the noise of the festival like a hot knife through butter. The other men shrunk back, as Brock turned toward Karen, his face apologetic, his brow creased with discomfort.

"I'm really sorry about that," Brock said, shaking his head. "They really didn't mean it like that. And… Tom… The man lost three of his children to Johto during the war, and ever since then... It always comes out on Victory Day, he's perfectly pleasant any other day I promise."

Karen stood there, still tense, but the anger that had flashed in her eyes softened at Brock's explanation. "Three kids?" She whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of shock and sadness. "That's... Awful." She looked away, rubbing her arm with one hand, "There's nothing worse than losing your entire family…"

Ezra glanced at her thoughtfully, Karen…

Brock nodded solemnly. "Yeah, it is. But I know it's got nothing to do with you, Karen. Please don't take it personally. The war took a lot from a lot of people."

Karen, still visibly rattled, let out a deep breath. She forced herself to relax and gave a slow nod, her silver hair catching the glow from the street lamps. "I'm fine. Thanks, Brock." She looked sad for a moment, but she wasn't one to show weakness for long, her spine stiffening almost immediately, as she forced a smile on her face.

Ezra gave Brock a nod of thanks and then turned to Karen, squeezing her hand gently. "You okay?" He asked to make sure, his voice low enough that only she could hear. He didn't let go of her hand, and she didn't pull away, the tension in her fingers slowly loosening.

Karen nodded, though her expression remained distant. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... Caught me off guard." Her voice was steady, but her usual fire had dimmed.

Ezra turned his attention back to Brock. "What's this Victory Day all about?" He asked, trying to change the subject, his voice casual but genuinely curious. "I've never even heard of it before. We didn't celebrate anything like this in Lavender."

Brock grimaced, one hand raking through his spiky hair. "That's because most of Kanto stopped celebrating it," He explained with a sigh. "Pryce… When he became champion, he put pressure on a lot of the region's mayors and leaders to stop celebrating the holiday. Said it was a reminder of the war that needed to be forgotten."

Ezra raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "That's a bit heavy-handed, don't you think?"

Although perhaps it had been thoughtless of him to ask about this subject, he realized. Squeezing Karen's hand again.

Brock shrugged, his expression weary. "Maybe, but no one really put up too much of a fight over it. Except my dad." He hesitated, glancing around as if checking to see if anyone was listening. "Pewter's the only city that still celebrates it. It's a tradition here now - one that my dad refused to let die."

Karen, who had been silent during the exchange, muttered, "Kanto lost the war." Her voice was low, almost lost in the noise of the festival, but it was enough to catch Ezra's attention. The cheerfulness she'd carried earlier in the day was now completely gone, replaced by a quiet, reflective sadness.

Ezra squeezed her hand a little tighter, but he didn't push her. Instead, he looked back at Brock. "She's right, though. If Kanto lost, why keep celebrating it?"

Brock looked even more uncomfortable now. His shoulders slumped, and his eyes darkened as if he was struggling with how much to say. "It's... Complicated. This isn't really taught anymore, but I know about it because of my dad." He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly debating how to explain. "There was a massacre in the last year of the war. A lot of Kanto civilians and soldiers were killed. But after that... Kanto struck back in a big way, one last time."

Ezra frowned, his curiosity piqued. "Struck back how?"

Brock shifted his weight, glancing around as if he didn't want to be overheard. "All the different clans and heroes of Kanto came together. They launched a massive counterattack, and for a brief moment, Kanto had the upper hand. That strike... It was the last time Johto was really 'beat' before the end of the war. That's what Victory Day celebrates."

"Your dad must be one hell of a patriot if he's the only one still keeping the festival going," Ezra muttered, his mind turning over the new information. There was clearly a lot more to this war business than he'd thought. Lavender had kept him in the dark about most of it, the isolated nature of the town keeping people removed from the deeper history of Kanto and Johto's conflicts. Or the school system just sucked.

Brock's discomfort deepened. His mouth opened, as if he was about to say something more, but before he could, a deep voice rumbled from behind them.

"Talking about me, son?"

Ezra turned to find himself face to face with a towering figure. Flint, Brock's father and the current Gym Leader of Pewter City, stood behind them, his massive arms crossed over his broad chest. The man was a mountain of muscle, his large graying beard tucked into his belt, and his clothes straining against his powerful muscular frame. He was nothing like the pathetic drifter Ezra had once seen in an old episode of the anime. Here, Flint looked every bit the embodiment of a rock type Gym Leader - a man who could bench an Onix if he wanted to.

The air around him seemed to grow colder, more tense as Flint's piercing flinty eyed gaze swept over them.

"You, girl," Flint said, his voice gruff as he turned his attention to Karen, who had tensed at the sight of him. "You're Agatha's Johto toy, aren't you?"

Karen's eyes flashed with anger at the insult, but before she could respond, Brock stepped forward, looking horrified. "Dad, come on -"

But Karen beat him to it this time. She squared her shoulders, her voice sharp. "Lady Agatha to you, Gym Leader Flint," She snapped, her tone icy. "And I am her apprentice, as you well know."

Flint snorted, clearly unimpressed. "At least there's some fire in you, for a mongrel."

Ezra's expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he stepped forward. "Apologize," He said, his voice low and dangerous. He had seen Karen flinch, and it sent a surge of protectiveness through him. He wasn't sure where it even came from, but he wouldn't allow this rockhead to bully his… Friend?

Flint gave him a bemused look, his lips curling into a mocking smile. "This is my city, brat. I can tell any Johto chit whatever I please."

Ezra's hand hovered over his Pokeballs, his eyes narrowing as he repeated, "You will apologize." He demanded.

The mocking smile on Flint's face widened, and he laughed - a deep, booming sound that seemed to shake the ground beneath them. He leaned forward, towering over Ezra as he looked down at him with condescension. "You gonna take me on, freaky boy?"

Brock looked like he wanted the earth to just swallow him whole.

"Yes," Ezra answered, his voice filled with a cold determination. He didn't flinch, his crimson eyes blazing with anger. Karen tugged at his arm, shaking her head, trying to pull him back, but Ezra remained still, his gaze locked with Flint's.

Brock, looking defeated, let out a long sigh, but before he could say anything, Flint raised his voice, calling out to the festival crowd. "OY, LISTEN UP, YOU ROCKHEADS!" His voice boomed through the streets, drawing the attention of the people nearby. "FESTIVAL'S ABOUT TO GET SLAMMING! GYM CHALLENGE IN TEN MINUTES AT THE OLD QUARRY! THREE VS THREE, MY OWN KICKASS TEAM ON THE LINE!"

The crowd erupted in excitement, and Flint turned back to Ezra, a leer on his face. "Let's show you how we do things in Kanto, freaky boy."

Ezra smirked, his hand still hovering over his Pokeballs. "Gladly."

Minutes later,

As Flint continued to hype up the crowd, his voice booming across the festival grounds, Ezra and Karen trailed behind him. Brock walked beside them, head lowered slightly in embarrassment as he mumbled a quiet apology to the two of them.

"Look," Brock said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, "I'm sorry about my dad. He... Well, he gets like this sometimes, especially during Victory Day." The quiet added mumble, "Especially if he's been drinking…" Was barely audible.

Ezra waved it off, not particularly interested in blaming Brock for his father's behavior. "It's not your fault," Ezra replied, his voice casual. "I've met worse people." He didn't mention that he also thought Brock's father was a bit of a bully, but the fact that Brock had turned out to be a decent guy despite that... Well, it spoke volumes.

Karen nodded in agreement, offering a brief smile to Brock. "Don't worry about it. Your dad's not your responsibility." She hesitated for a moment before adding, "Though I can see why you've chosen to take a part time job for Ezra if that's what it's like at home… No offense."

Ezra nodded, also remembering that Brock seemed to deal with mostly young trainers at the gym. As if he was staying away from the older trainers, his father's men.

Brock gave a rueful smile. "Yeah, I guess you could say that." He sighed, shaking his head. "But really, this isn't normal. Most of the time, he's just... Strict. Victory Day just... Stirs things up, makes him a little more - "

" - Intolerable?" Ezra offered, smirking. Not that he could talk really.

Brock laughed awkwardly. "Yeah, something like that." He gestured to the quarry ahead, where Flint was already walking toward the makeshift battle arena. "This field... It's where he goes when he wants to play. It's an old quarry, but the people love it. Gives everyone a front-row seat."

As they reached the outskirts of the town, the energy of the festival was replaced with the raw intensity of the old quarry. A large field, cut into the jagged rocks, stretched before them. The upper edges of the place was filled with a throng of spectators who had gathered to watch the match, their voices a hum of excitement that rose and fell with every movement Flint made. The sheer number of people watching made it clear that this wasn't going to be just any normal gym battle.

No wonder Flint took them here if he wanted an audience, the gym arena wouldn't even fit a tenth of the crowd… Ezra was going to enjoy humbling him here…

Ezra surveyed the field, mentally preparing himself. This time, he wasn't going to make the same mistakes he had made in previous battles. His strategy was clear in his mind, his focus unwavering. Flint might have the crowd, the strength, and the reputation, but Ezra had something better - type advantage and an ace up his sleeve.

He muttered under his breath as they walked toward the battlefield, his eyes fixed on Flint's back. "The only one allowed to bully Karen is me!" The comment said with relish, as he realized what his main complaint with the situation was.

Unfortunately for him, Karen had sharp ears. She turned to him, her brow raised in equal parts amusement and annoyance. "Of course that's why," She huffed, letting out a soft snort. "Idiot."

Ezra shot her a grin, but his expression quickly turned back to one of intensity as Flint roared to the crowd, his voice cutting through the air.

"This kid here got his feelings hurt, so let's do a battle and see who was right!" Flint's deep voice carried over the crowd. "Might makes right!"

"Might makes right!" The crowd cheered. Their excitement growing with every word Flint spoke. Brock looked visibly uncomfortable beside Ezra and Karen, his shoulders hunched as the older man continued to rile everyone up.

"They're really not like this usually," Brock mumbled, clearly embarrassed. "It's just Victory Day... It makes the older folks a little... Odd."

Ezra only nodded, his gaze not leaving Flint. "It doesn't matter. I'm going to end this quickly." His fingers traced the outline of the Pokeball in his hand, his mind already running through the battle ahead. That said, the fact Brock had to keep bringing it up to defend them, didn't speak well for all these old drunks stuck in a time that was dead and over.

"What's with the slogan?" He asked.

Brock frowned, "It's something he really shouldn't be saying." He said darkly. "It was Kantos slogan at the beginning of the war, but it's been co-opted by Team Rocket now, so he really shouldn't be saying that… The League will come down hard if they hear about that kind of thing…" He looked worried now.

Ezra looked at Flint with new eyes after that, wondering…

Also, he thought… That creed was just all kinds of stupid. Not that he was generally opposed to the idea, as he certainly would enjoy personal power allowing him to rule his little fiefdom once he achieved his dream…

But if their philosophy was Might makes Right? Then why the sour feelings over Johto winning. Shouldn't their victory have proven their might, Kanto folding to their rightful masters?

It just showed to Ezra that even those espounging the creed, didn't actually follow it, only using it as a call for their own goals. It was no wonder Team Rocket had latched on to it…

It allowed them to hoover up all the suckers.

As Flint reached the center of the field, he pointed at Brock. "My foolish son will be the referee, alright, freaky boy?"

Ezra shrugged, not particularly caring about the formalities, even as he tried to hide the twitch from that particular moniker being used. He twirled a Pokeball in his hand, his voice sharp and cold. "I don't care. Give me your star team, and I'll crush them into the ground. Then, you'll give me your badge and your apology."

Flint roared with laughter, his hand clapping down heavily on Ezra's shoulder, the force of it jarring, as was the smell of alcohol on his breath, making Ezra grimace. "That's the Pewter spirit!" Flint boomed, grinning widely. The crowd echoed his sentiment, cheering even louder.

They lined up on opposite sides of the field. There were no booths or shields, no protective barriers. Just the trainers and their Pokemon in the open, the crowd standing further back to keep a safe distance, also protected by the Quarry walls as they stood well above the fighting. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, the air crackling with tension. It wasn't a typical gym battle. This was something more personal.

At least to Ezra. Flint seemed entirely too jovial at the moment, but then he was intoxicated..

Brock took his place off to the side, his voice carrying through the field. "This is a star badge challenge of the Pewter Gym! Three versus three! No substitutions allowed. Release your Pokemon!"

Without hesitation, Flint tossed his first Pokeball into the air. With a flash of light, an absolutely massive Onix appeared, towering above the battlefield. The rocky serpent let out a thunderous roar, its stony body shifting as it prepared for battle. It was also absolutely covered in war paint, which appeared to be trying to cover up old scars.

Ezra's cold smirk grew as he released Akuma, his Annihilape, who appeared on the field in a blur of movement, his eyes glowing red with intensity. The crowd gasped at the sight of the ghostly, primal creature, its fists clenched and ready for the fight ahead.

This fight might have been a bit impromptu, but this was exactly what he'd been training for.

Ezra wasted no time. "Just like we trained, Akuma. Move like a butterfly, sting like a bee." His lips quirked at what he was saying, but he'd own it. It was champion talk, after all.

Flint, standing with his hands on his hips, shouted his first command, followed by a thrust of his hips that had the female section of the crowd cheer wildly, "Rock Throw!"

Big surprise, the Rock trainer going for overwhelming force immediately, Ezra thought, not concerned.

Onix immediately slammed its tail into the ground, sending a barrage of large boulders and smaller shards of stone hurtling toward Akuma as the earth split before it. But Akuma was already moving. In the blink of an eye, he shot upward, a burst of energy propelling him into the air as he effortlessly dodged the incoming rocks. His movement was erratic, unpredictable, as he bounced between different points in the air with sharp bursts of energy making it appear like he was kicking the air, zipping back and forth like a living pinball.

Ezra had worked tirelessly on this technique with him during their training for the last few days. While Akuma hadn't yet fully mastered the ghostly propulsion of energy around his entire body he was trying out for the others, they'd found that his workaround worked better than imagined. Ezra likened it to something out of One Piece again, this time Geppo, a rapid burst of energy from Akuma's feet that allowed him to shoot through the air in quick, controlled movements bouncing around like a pinball when he went at his highest speed - It wasn't perfect, but it was effective enough for now - and it was about to be devastating.

Flint's eyes narrowed as he watched the Annihilape move, clearly impressed. But he wasn't about to let that rattle him, ordering his Onix to keep the pressure up, filling the air with a hailstorm of stone.

Both Ezra and Brock had to dodge a few as the storm swept across their areas. It was impressive in its breadth… Against anyone without a solid high tier defense or mobility technique, they'd be buried with this one move.

Akuma darted between the flying rocks and utilized the larger rocks to avoid the shrapnel sized deluge, disappearing and reappearing with every burst of energy, moving too fast for Onix to keep track of. The massive serpent let out a frustrated roar as its attacks missed their mark, its large body too slow to keep up with Akuma's nimble movements.

"Low Kick!" Ezra ordered, his voice sharp and anticipatory.

In an instant, Akuma shot toward Onix, landing a powerful Low Kick to its side that rang out across the quarry. The impact was enough to stagger the giant rock snake, but Akuma didn't stop there. With another burst of energy, he disappeared into the air again, dodging the tail that came crashing down where he had just been.

"Cross Chop!" Ezra called out, his eyes glittering with glee.

Akuma reappeared above Onix, his fists glowing with energy as he delivered a devastating Cross Chop to Onix's head. The sheer force of the blow sent the rock-type reeling, its massive body shaking from the impact as its head slammed into the ground, half buried into the loose rock.

Flint's Onix, to its credit, was incredibly resilient. Despite taking two super-effective hits, it remained in the fight, its eyes burning with determination as it let out another roar, raising its head from the ground, sending another slate of rock forward, a tint of steel visible.

But Akuma wasn't done. "Hammer Arm!" Ezra ordered, laughing as he looked at the Onix with anticipation. With a final burst of energy, he shot into the air once more, rising high above Onix's head. For a brief moment, he hovered there, a silhouette against the fading evening sky, before he came crashing down like a comet.

Akuma's arm glowed with energy as he descended, the force of his descent amplifying the power of the attack. He slammed into Onix's back with a thunderous impact, the ground beneath them shaking from the force of the blow as Onix folded in half, his middle section absolutely buried into the ground.

Onix let out a final, guttural roar before collapsing fully onto the ground, its massive body thudding against the earth. Dust and debris kicked up into the air, settling slowly around the battlefield.

"Onix is unable to battle!" Brock declared, looking shell shocked, raising his arm toward Ezra. The crowd erupted into cheers, though the tone of surprise was clear. They hadn't expected the battle to start so one-sidedly.

Ezra stood tall, his arms crossed over his chest, a satisfied smirk on his lips. Akuma stood beside him, breathing heavily but looking completely unfazed by the battle. Ezra let a trickle of his aura revitalize his 'mon, determined to crush Flint for looking down on him. And for how he acted too, of course.

Flint, however, didn't seem disheartened at all. If anything, his grin grew wider. "Not bad, kid!" he roared, recalling his Onix. "But I've still got more tricks up my sleeve. Let's see how you handle what comes next!"

Ezra's eyes gleamed with anticipation. This battle was far from over, and he was ready for whatever Flint had in store - ready to further showcase Akuma's strength.

Flint, his laughter still echoing from the loss of round one, tossed out his next Pokeball, and with a flash, a Graveler appeared on the field. This wasn't just any Graveler though - it was easily the most muscular of its kind that Ezra had ever seen. Its arms rippled with rocky muscle, veins of stone crisscrossing its body, and its four fists clenched tightly, eager for a fight.

Ezra narrowed his eyes, not underestimating it despite his confidence. Graveler or not, Flint was clearly not to be taken lightly. He'd seen what Akuma could do, no doubt he intended to do something about it with the Graveler.

"Akuma, go in! Don't give it time!" Ezra's voice was sharp and decisive. "Force Palm!" He commanded, his voice cutting through the noise of the crowd.

At the same time, Flint's booming voice roared across the quarry, "Let's kick up a storm, Graveler! Sandstorm Deluxe, now!"

The massive rock Pokemon raised its arms, preparing to summon a swirling vortex of sand and debris, but Ezra's Pokemon was quicker, despite the speed slowdown inherent in having used Hammer Arm.

Akuma, his Annihilape, was already a blur of motion, his glowing red eyes locked on the Graveler. His body tensed as he burst forward with high speed, covering the distance in mere moments. Before the Graveler could finish his move to fully summon the sandstorm, Akuma materialized in front of it, his hands glowing with powerful energy.

The sand had just begun to swirl at that point, and Ezra noticed that rocks were being swept up, a mix of Rock Throw and Sandstorm?

But it was too late.

Akuma's hands glowed bright as he thrust them forward, slamming into Graveler's midsection with a resounding CRACK!

The impact was instant. Graveler let out a deep cry, its rocky body trembling as the force of the blow reverberated through its core. For a brief second, it seemed like Graveler might hold its ground, but then, with a sudden explosion of energy, the boulder-like Pokemon was launched into the air.

The Graveler rocketed back across the quarry, slamming into the side of the stone wall with a loud crash, causing dust and debris to rain down. The Pokemon lay motionless, its body embedded into the rock, its eyes closed, a crack running down its body.

The crowd fell silent. Not a single voice could be heard, not even a murmur. The shock of how fast the battle had ended left everyone in awe.

Flint stood there for a moment, staring at the scene before him. Then, a booming laugh escaped his chest, startling the crowd out of their collective silence. "Hah! You sure showed me, brat!" Flint's voice was filled with genuine amusement as he gazed across the field, his eyes resting on Akuma with admiration. "What a monster..."

Ezra's face remained expressionless, though his mind buzzed with satisfaction at how perfectly executed the attack had been.

Flint scratched his chin thoughtfully, his gaze still lingering on Akuma. Then, to everyone's surprise, he raised his hand and waved it dismissively. "Alright, I forfeit!" He announced loudly, shocking not only the crowd but also Brock and Ezra.

There was an audible gasp from the spectators, a collective intake of breath as they processed what Flint had just said. Flint - the man who had built a reputation on toughness and never backing down - was forfeiting.

"Uh..." Brock stumbled, looking between his father and Ezra, clearly flabbergasted by the unexpected turn of events. "The challenger wins... Via forfeit?"

Ezra felt a surge of frustration rise in his chest. His sharp glare locked onto Flint. "What the hell?" He spat, his voice cold with disbelief. This wasn't how he had envisioned the fight ending. He wanted to crush Flint, to take the win cleanly, not to have it handed to him like some hollow victory.

What was it lately with his wins having all the satisfaction drained out of them?

Even Akuma seemed to share Ezra's irritation, pounding his fists into the ground and snarling in frustration. The primal energy within him was clearly bubbling, ready for more action. Ezra quickly sent calming energy through his aura, trying to soothe Akuma before he lost control. He couldn't afford to let his Annihilape get too worked up.

He'd vastly underestimated how much more potent his attacks were with the backing of extreme speed.

Sure it was against 'mon he had type advantage on, but still…

Flint, however, seemed completely unfazed by Ezra's frustration. He chuckled as he walked closer, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Ah, what I've got left on me isn't enough to deal with that kind of type advantage," He admitted, casually, whistling as he neared Akuma. He gave the Annihilape an appreciative nod, as though admiring a finely crafted weapon. "One day you'll have to take on my starter. Now that'd be a hell of a fight."

He flexed, grinning widely, all earlier antagonism completely absent, "Your guy there could have fit right into the war, not something I've ever said to one of you youngins before."

Ezra felt his fists clench at his sides, his jaw tightening. Sure, he had gotten what he wanted - he'd beaten Flint, humiliated him even, not that the crowd seemed to care. But Flint had taken all the satisfaction out of it by forfeiting. It wasn't a true victory. "You forfeited to make yourself look better," Ezra accused, his voice low and simmering with anger.

Flint's grin widened, and he winked at Ezra with a playful glint in his eye. "Ayup. Looks a lot better for an old man like me to say - this kid's promising - than to get my ass spanked three times in a row." He folded his arms, completely at ease with the situation.

Ezra was thrown. He couldn't make heads or tails of this man. Why was he like this? Why did people act so... Confusing? Flint's behavior was so contradictory. It was beyond frustrating. "This is why I don't do people," Ezra muttered under his breath, exhaling in exasperation.

As Ezra stood there, still trying to process everything, Flint turned and made his way over to Karen. To Ezra's surprise, the gym leader stopped in front of her and bowed his head slightly. "I apologize," Flint said, his tone serious and respectful. "I sometimes get swept away and don't think before I speak, you didn't deserve any antagonism on my part or from my people's."

The apology only frustrated Ezra further, even if it was exactly what he'd asked for. He'd wanted to rage and spit at the man, not have him turn around and be… Suddenly reasonable and affable!

Karen, who had been taken aback by the abrupt turn of events, blinked in surprise but quickly composed herself. She accepted the apology with grace, offering a polite nod. "Thank you," She replied, her voice unsure.

Ezra, watching the interaction, was still grappling with the surreal nature of it all. Flint, the loud, brash drunk gym leader, was apologizing with sincerity? It was hard to believe after their first interaction.

Brock walked over, holding a badge in his hand, a runner having brought it from the gym during the fight. His expression was a mix of resignation and embarrassment. "Yeah, don't ask me to explain. Dad can be like this," He muttered, clearly used to his father's antics. He handed the badge over to Ezra, the three stars marking it as a star challenge victory.

Ezra took the badge, still feeling like he'd missed something. "I can't tell if I'm more annoyed or impressed," He muttered to himself, staring down at the badge in his hand. Either way, it was another hollow victory.

Before he could process the thought further, Flint suddenly appeared behind Brock, grabbing him in a playful noogie and ruffling his son's hair. The crowd erupted into cheers, their earlier shock forgotten as Flint's larger-than-life personality filled the quarry once more.

"Alright, you lot!" Flint called out to the crowd, his voice booming. "Go party! Stop standing around like a bunch of rocks! The beers on me!"

The crowd erupted into applause and laughter, many of them turning to leave the quarry, ready to resume the Victory Day festivities. The tension of the battle dissipated as quickly as it had come, leaving Ezra standing there, still bewildered.

Brock palmed his face, "Dad! The budget!" He protested.

Flint waved it away, "Bah, like forty percent of that is like miscellaneous expenses - like buying a few rounds."

"No… That's not it at all." Brock said, looking skyward.

Flint just laughed again, slapping Brock so hard on the back he fell over, "Eh, if the budget goes to crap, that's why I have so many kids who'll work for free!" He continued laughing, standing there with his hands on his hips, even as Brock grew more depressed.

Ezra shook his head in disbelief, turning to recall Akuma back into his Pokeball. "You were kickass," He muttered softly, offering his Annihilape a rare compliment before the Pokemon disappeared in a flash of red light.

Flint turned back to Ezra with a wide grin, his hands still on his hips. "Ah, sometimes my emotions get the best of me, but I'm man enough to handle the consequences. I apologized to the little lady, so no harm done, right?" He shot Ezra a wink.

Ezra stared at him, utterly at a loss. "You... Are a very frustrating man," Ezra breathed out, finally accepting the absurdity of the situation.

Flint threw his head back and laughed heartily, his deep voice filling the quarry. "It's the Kanto way!" He declared proudly, clearly somehow satisfied with how the day had turned out.

Ezra exhaled sharply, still irritated, but he couldn't help but feel a grudging respect for Flint's strange, chaotic approach to life - the man was obviously popular, and from what he'd seen of Pewter, ran a tight ship, for all of his… Eccentricities.

Ezra had gotten his badge in the end, tested Akuma's new style in battle, and put Flint in his place, even if the old man had taken the wind out of his victory. In the end, Ezra supposed, things had turned out alright.

But he still couldn't help muttering to himself as they left the quarry. "People are exhausting..."

The journey back to Ezra's stable was uneventful, save for Brock's repeated apologies for his father's behavior. Flint had been larger than life, and Brock's embarrassment about the entire ordeal was palpable. But Ezra and Karen brushed it off casually at that point, both of them agreeing that Flint's eccentricity wasn't something to hold against Brock. Besides, Ezra had won, albeit with some frustration still there from the manner of victory.

When they arrived at the stable, the familiar sounds of Pokemon rustling in their resting places or playing tag around the buildings greeted them. The stable had become a home away from home for Ezra and Karen both - an unexpected comfort in the chaos of their journeys so far.

Ezra wondered if Karen was even consciously aware of how she'd begun decorating the guest room and leaving some of her things behind whenever they left.

Brock, who had followed them all the way, stood by the door, still looking slightly abashed. Karen had been unusually quiet for most of the walk, her expression somewhere between contemplative and simmering irritation.

But that silence didn't last.

The moment the stable door closed behind them, Karen suddenly whirled around and lunged at Ezra, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him violently. "What the hell was that!?" She demanded, her eyes blazing with frustration.

Ezra blinked, feeling slightly dizzy from the unexpected assault. "I defended your honor, my lady," He quipped, offering a wide grin. "Normally the shining knight gets a kiss?" He added as a suggestion.

"Fuck that." She gave him a hard shove, causing him to stumble back. "What the hell was that move? How did you get Akuma to do that? I've been watching you train, and you never showed anything like that!"

Ezra sniffed, brushing off his shirt with a casual, nonchalant air. "Well, if you're going to jerk me around like this, I don't see why I should answer," He replied smugly, glancing at Brock. "Right, Brock?"

Brock, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, chuckled, clearly amused by the entire exchange. "Doesn't seem conducive to answers, no," He agreed, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Ah, Brock is such a bro, Ezra thought with a small nod at the teen.

Karen shot Brock a dark look. "No one asked you," She muttered, though there wasn't any real bite behind her words.

"My feelings are hurt now," Ezra added, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "I don't think I can answer your question with how brutishly you assaulted my person."

Karen rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest in a show of unimpressed exasperation. "You're such an idiot." She said, with - dare he say it? - some fondness.

Brock's grin widened, enjoying the banter. "Perhaps a kiss for the guy who fought in your honor would unlock the answers?" He suggested, his tone playful as he exchanged a look with Ezra.

Karen's face immediately flushed bright red, her expression shifting between embarrassment and indignation. She glared at Brock. "You are just as bad as your dad!" She hissed.

Ezra, however, raised a fist toward Brock, and with a grin, the two fist-bumped, silently acknowledging their shared amusement. Brock was clearly relishing being a part of the teasing dynamic.

Karen, meanwhile, looked like she was about to explode. After a moment of internal debate, she groaned in frustration, then quickly leaned in and pressed a brief kiss to Ezra's cheek. Her face was beet red, and she looked like she wanted to be anywhere but in that moment. "There, you degenerates. Now give me my answers!"

Ezra, ever the troll, dramatically patted the cheek she had kissed, his eyes wide with mock horror. "My innocence... It has been stolen," He lamented, his voice thick with exaggerated despair. He even gave his best attempt at a tragic sigh, which only made Brock double over in laughter, barely able to contain himself.

Karen looked like she was about to actually explode. "Answers, now!" She practically yelled, her fists clenched at her sides as she glared daggers at him.

"Ah yes... The secret to my training," Ezra began, leaning in conspiratorially, his tone full of mystery and allure. Karen, despite herself, leaned in as well, eager for whatever wisdom he was about to impart. Her eyes were alight with curiosity, her earlier embarrassment temporarily forgotten.

Ezra's smirk widened as he whispered, "Is a ~secret!"

Karen's reaction was immediate. She let out an almost animalistic growl of frustration, a sound that was somewhere between a snarl and a roar. Without hesitation, she lunged at him, her hands outstretched in fury. "RAWR!" She cried, throwing herself at him in an attempt to throttle the answer out of him.

Ezra laughed loudly, already backpedaling to avoid her grasp. "Away! Away, I say! My innocence is not for you to spoil!" He called out dramatically as he dodged Karen's wild swipes, his grin wide and full of mischief.

Karen chased him around the yard, her face still flushed but her expression determined as she tried to grab hold of him. "Get back here, you idiot!" She yelled, though there was no true anger in her voice at this point. It was playful, and despite the fiery look in her eyes, it was clear that she was enjoying the chase.

Brock, by now, was literally doubled over with laughter. He had to lean against a post to keep from collapsing entirely, tears forming at the corners of his eyes as he watched Karen chase Ezra around the stable yard. "This is... This is too much," He gasped between breaths, clearly entertained by the chaotic energy of the two of them.

Ezra, despite being chased, had a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. There was something incredibly satisfying about messing with Karen. No matter how tough or serious she tried to act, getting her riled up like this always managed to put him in a good mood. Watching her flustered - it was all just too fun.

Eventually, Karen managed to grab him by the back of his shirt, pulling him toward her with surprising strength. "You better start talking," She huffed, though the playful gleam in her eyes remained. "Or I swear, next time, you won't be getting a kiss, you'll be picking teeth off the ground instead!"

Ezra, still grinning, twisted around to face her, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Oh, keep that up and I'll start thinking you're obsessed about my body," He teased, winking at her.

Karen's face turned an even brighter shade of red as she pushed him away again. "You're impossible!" She exclaimed, though there was no denying the smile tugging at her lips.

Ezra laughed, brushing off his shirt once more as if her rough treatment had somehow ruffled his dignity. "I aim to please," He said with a dramatic bow, before straightening and shooting Karen a smug look. "But don't worry. One day, maybe, I'll let you in on my little secret."

Karen rolled her eyes, finally giving up on chasing him. "One day? Hah! You're so full of yourself." But despite her words, there was an undeniable lightness to her tone.

Like the earlier stress of the day had just fallen off.

And as the sun set behind the hills, Ezra couldn't help but think that, no matter how confusing people could be, messing with Karen would always make things better.

The next day,

Ezra sat up in the dim light of his room, his Pokedex buzzing on the nightstand beside him. The small screen lit up, displaying the name Steven Stone. He glanced over, glad that Karen was away, currently soaking in a bath after a long day of training. Her absence afforded him some privacy for the conversation he knew was about to take place.

With a casual swipe, he answered the call, bringing the device up to face him. "Steven. Always a pleasure."

"Ezra. Good to see you. You look well." Steven said pleasantly, as always looking well put together.

Ezra smirked, leaning back in his bed. "And you look as composed as ever, do you sleep in a suit, by chance?"

Steven chuckled, his voice smooth and even. "I think I'll leave such displays to you, young Ezra. But, in all seriousness, I'm calling to let you know our joint business is completed. Facilities are built, security's tighter than Lance's grip on his outdated traditions, and the Pokemon you requested are mostly available. Some are still in transit, but things are coming together."

Ezra's eyes gleamed at the news, his fingers tapping lightly on the Pokedex. "Good. That's what I like to hear." He leaned forward slightly, voice dropping to a more focused tone. "And you're sure everything's secure? If any of your people spread this… It won't work."

The only reason such things as a Milotic farm would work - was that no one yet knew that they evolved from Feebas, or how. Same for many of the other evolutions he'd be selling.

Steven nodded firmly. "More than secure, I assure you. My people are under control, but there's one last thing. I need you to come down to finalize the process, make sure everyone's trained up properly. Especially with the evolution techniques we discussed. You're the expert on that front." His smile was wry, as if acknowledging the ridiculousness of Ezra knowing more than experts in the field.

Ezra sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You realize I'm not exactly welcome in Lavender Town, right? We'll need to be discreet if you want me there."

Steven scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "Discreet? I can arrange that to not be a problem. You let me worry about the logistics, Ezra."

But Ezra shook his head, his lips twisting into a smirk. "Oh no, Steven. I'm insisting on being sneaky about this one. When I do go back to Lavender, I want it to be an event. Not some half-baked return where I slip into a barn and lecture a bunch of scientists on how to evolve Feebas into Milotics. That's not my style."

His fists clenched as he continued, "I will walk into Lavender one day, like a conqueror of old, powerful, undeniable, and above all else, smug, as I rub all their faces in it!"

Steven raised an eyebrow, though a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "How theatrical. Fine, you can keep your games, but remember - this is a business. As long as we make money on this venture, all is well. But I will not stand for theatrics ruining profit."

A bit rich coming from him, Ezra thought. That said, it wouldn't hurt to assure him, "Steven, trust me. The Milotic farm alone will pay for this project ten times over. Add in the other Pokemon we're working on, and we're sitting on a goldmine. You'll get your in to Kanto, and I'll be swimming in more money than I'll ever need."

Steven leaned back in his chair on the other side of the screen, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "That's what I like to hear, Lance if anything has made it harder to get into the market then old Pryce, and in such a short timeframe... Just make sure you arrive within the week for this. I'll hold you to that promise of profit."

Ezra nodded, already mentally calculating his timeline. "You have my word. I'll be there." He paused for a beat, his tone shifting slightly to a more proud one. "It'll be good to finally show you what I can give to our partnership. You won't be disappointed."

"I'm counting on it," Steven replied, his voice firm. "I'm excited to see all that you have to offer, Ezra."

With that, they exchanged their goodbyes, and the call ended, leaving Ezra alone in the quiet room. The silence felt heavier now, the weight of his coming success pressing down on him. He stared at the blank screen of his Pokedex, letting the implications of the call sink in.

"It's all coming together…" He muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

He rose from his chair and crossed the room to the window, looking out into the night. The moon hung low in the sky, casting soft silver light over the landscape. In the distance, he could hear the faint rustling of Pokemon in the woods near the stable, the sounds of their nocturnal movements blending into the night.

Ezra's mind buzzed with thoughts of the future. The Milotic farm would be a game-changer on its own, financially speaking. With Steven's resources and Ezra's knowledge, they'd have a monopoly on one of the most sought-after species in the region. The money wouldn't just flow.- it would pour in, and with it, once he expanded, influence. Power.

The dream was becoming reality, one step at a time.

Yet, despite his confidence in the project, his thoughts wandered to Karen. She was just a few rooms away, blissfully unaware of the magnitude of what was happening behind the scenes. He had been trying to build a rapport with her, to get her on his side, but she was getting under his skin more than he expected. She was sharp, stubborn, and fiercely independent in her thoughts. Qualities he admired, but at the same time, they were maddening.

Ezra's fingers drummed idly against the window frame as he considered his next move. Did he take her with him? This was, at least on some level, a public project. The breeding programs were no secret, and Karen was already part of his inner circle, if only by Agatha's machinations. Bringing her along would be the logical thing to do to keep that avenue going.

But logic had never dictated all of Ezra's decisions.

Karen was a wildcard here. While she was useful, there was always the risk that she'd pry too much, ask too many questions about things he wasn't ready to share. And as much as he had come to enjoy messing with her, she had a way of complicating things through her connection to Agatha.

He was… Wary, of the fact Karen was from Johto - not that he gave two shits about that. But from everything he was understanding, Agatha should have. So why had Agatha picked up a Johto kid?

His mind raced through the options, weighing the benefits and drawbacks of each scenario. On one hand, if he left her behind, he could move through the project without distractions, focusing entirely on the task at hand. On the other hand, bringing her along might build the trust he was slowly working toward, solidifying her as a reliable ally in the long term.

Ezra's eyes narrowed as he stared out into the night, lost in thought. Karen was becoming a larger factor in his plans than he had anticipated. The real question was, did he want her to be?

The sound of running water in the distance reminded him that she was still in the bath, oblivious to the decisions being made. He'd have to make his choice soon.