Lucan Thorne was a simple man who had loved dragons since childhood. Upon starting his journey, he quickly realized that his dreams were impossible. Being a regular trainer couldn't earn him enough money to achieve and sustain his dream, so he began taking from others to make it happen.
It was a profitable business—until he crossed paths with Monica Alfreds, an Expert-ranked trainer who funded his dream by gifting him a Dratini, his first dragon. He had been loyal to her ever since.
Fifteen years later, he now had three dragons of significant power. He was even stronger than Monica, whose psychic Pokémon couldn't hold a candle to his dragons, but he stayed loyal. She had given him her dragons, and he would always return that loyalty.
But now, his dragons were gone, seized by the League because of a tip from some kid. Lucan didn't appreciate being ratted out—or worse, being trapped and losing his dragons.
He glared down at the pistols at his waist. The kid supposedly used these weapons to fight on the same level as an Elite-ranked Pokémon and had stabilized a losing fight.
Lucan had known about the guns for a while, but they seemed weak. They could barely hold up against Experts, let alone Elites. Still, the kid had a bunch of Expert-ranked Pokémon, so Lucan would see how well they really worked.
A signal came through. Lucan mounted his Noivern and took off after Alex, who had just passed the camp. Though he'd lost his main dragons, his precious collection of Pokémon remained, and he wasn't going down without a fight.
Noivern was fast—faster than Alex's Hydreigon. It didn't take long before they caught up to the kid, who was already on the ground setting up defenses.
Lucan landed and released his full collection: Altaria, Dragalge, Drampa, Flapple, Appletun, Turtonator, and Cyclizar. All were low-end Elite, but strong enough for this brat.
Six Expert-ranked grunts, each with a team of cannon fodder, surrounded Alex, bolstering their strength as they closed in. Alex simply watched them, unbothered.
'Overconfidence at its finest. Doesn't even know we've got reinforcements coming,' Lucan thought with a sneer. 'Soon, you'll be surrounded and bombarded.'
Alex looked at Lucan's Pokemon and scoffed. "Really? An all-dragon team despite knowing I have three Dazzling Gleam users?"
"You will pay for what you did to my dragons!" Lucan spat, his voice thick with anger.
"You mean what Agatha did?" Alex shot back.
"Everyone knows you leaked the information. Agatha wouldn't have hidden if it weren't for you."
Alex's expression hardened. "Welp, that's enough setting up. Begin," he ordered, his command followed by a barrage of Special Attacks.
Lucan couldn't help but admit that Alex was no ordinary trainer. Despite being alone, Alex maintained control over so many Pokémon with ease. And that Hydreigon, loyal to him despite being captured at such a high rank—Alex was powerful, only lacking more Elites to become a serious threat to other organizations.
Lucan commanded his team to start a coordinated bombardment, hoping to keep Alex in place long enough to break through his defenses. The reinforcements would arrive any minute now.
Suddenly, Dusknoir and Ceruledge disappeared from sight, followed by Alex's attack team splitting into two groups: one led by Arcanine with Raticate and Togekiss, the other led by Kommo-o with Altaria.
Dusknoir emerged from behind the bombardment line and used Phantom Force, knocking a Pokémon's shield aside. Arcanine, Raticate, and Togekiss took advantage, downing three of the opposing Pokémon who should have been protected in a single hit.
'Max stacked already? How?' Lucan wondered. He had seen Alex setting up, but he couldn't possibly have had the time to boost his Pokémon that fast—even with Advanced-ranked Reduced Cooldown upgrades.
On the other side, Ceruledge unleashed a devastating Phantom Force, knocking out a Trevenant who had tried to use Protect. It, too, had clearly been boosted.
The other Pokémon by Trevenant's side were quickly taken out: Brick Break from Kommo-o and Dazzling Gleam from Altaria finished them off in no time.
Lucan was losing Pokémon faster than he could command them.
'The grunts were as useless as ever,' he muttered under his breath, disgust curling in his voice.
"Charge and disrupt their lines!" Lucan ordered, determined to turn the tide. Elites should be able to push through with physical attacks, right?
With Defog from his Altaria, his dragons rushed in, using Dragon-type moves left and right.
But Alex's team was ready. Dazzling Gleam shots rained down on them. Lucan's Turtonator used Wide Guard, but it wasn't enough. Dusknoir broke the protection with another Phantom Force, and Turtonator fell quickly to the bombardment.
The rest of Lucan's dragons retaliated, but Dusknoir used Protect to stall while Alex's team continued to barrage them with attack after attack.
The encirclement was breaking, and Lucan's forces were scattered in three separate melees. Without coordination, his Pokémon were losing. He had already lost Turtonator, Flapple, and Dragalge, who was quickly taken out by a combination of Ice Beams and Blizzards from Frosmoth.
They were Elites for crying out loud. They shouldn't be losing this fast.
He suddenly remembered the pistols at his side. With a sharp motion, he drew them, aimed, and fired shot after shot straight at Alex. Dragon Pulse, Sludge Bomb, Seed Bomb, Energy Ball, Take Down, etc.
Alex, however, only looked on with mild embarrassment. Sure, the guns were powerful—but if they were used like this, they were no different than a pair of reckless Pokémon firing off attacks without strategy.
Rotom and Aegislash alternated between Protect and King's Shield, shielding Alex as he calmly walked forward through the hail of bullets, entirely unbothered.
With the rest of the grunts in chaos and his own team holding the advantage, Alex knew this battle was already over. He continued his slow approach toward Lucan, who was desperately trying to reload his spent magazine.
Without a word, Alex stepped forward—and punched Lucan hard in the face, knocking him out cold. The man might've been an Elite-ranked trainer who'd been eating Pokémon meat longer than Alex had been alive, but without physical training, he was no different from a regular person.
Lucan dropped like a sack of potatoes and dropped the magazine. But Alex suddenly paused. He could feel a familiar psychic energy wrapping around Lucan. He remembered how Lucan had escaped Agatha the first time.
Alex kicked Lucan over onto his back and spotted the culprit: a pitiful squished Abra, struggling to focus enough to cast Teleport.
Without hesitation, Alex reached down, grabbed the tiny Psychic-type, and gave it a light shake to break its concentration. The poor Abra squealed then tried casting again only for the cycle to repeat.
Teleports were this annoying to release but they were undeniably useful. With that, Alex began rummaging through Lucan's belongings, retrieving Poké Balls one by one and locking each of the captured Pokémon inside—Abra included.
A few minutes later, the entire group was subdued. Lucan and his grunts were tied to trees by Metagross, their belongings confiscated and sealed.
Alex took a moment to inspect the pistols Lucan had used. They were decent—well-made, with clear killing power against unprotected humans. In fact, they were even stronger than the old pair Alex used to rely on. No manufacturer's logo, no registration—definitely custom, likely illegal. He recognized the design.
Argent Solutions.
So why was a human-supremacist weapons manufacturer supplying an organization known for pokephilia and human trafficking rings?
Alex didn't know. And he didn't care.
He would've liked to keep the guns, but they were recorded in the fight and had to be submitted as evidence.
Just then, Alex sensed movement—reinforcements incoming from Celadon City.
From a rough count, there were about twenty people.
That would've been a problem a few minutes ago. Now? It just looked like the perfect setup for an ambush.
Alex sent Hydreigon, Altaria, Togekiss, Frosmoth, and the Crobat pair to stir chaos in the skies with a well-timed Roar, while the rest of his team lay in wait beneath the forest canopy, ready to strike down anyone who panicked and crash-landed.
It went about as expected—they scattered in a frenzy, fleeing in all directions. One by one, Alex's team picked them off and dragged them into the forest, collecting them like fruit in a harvest.
At some point during the cleanup, another group arrived from Saffron City—this time around thirty strong. Alex didn't change a thing. He ran the same strategy again and by evening, all of them were bound, gagged, and stashed away like the first group.
He was honestly running out of rope, so he gave Jenny a call. She, in turn, contacted Celadon City's Jenny to come pick up the goods.
Tired from spending the entire day running through the forest, Alex and his team finally took a break—settling in with the Fearow from earlier as a well-deserved reward for their performance.
Alex couldn't help but feel proud. His team had been fast, disciplined, and worked with the precision of a well-oiled machine. Just like they practiced.
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