David rode majestically into chaos, perched on the back of a hulking Tyranitar like some discount warlord from a post-apocalyptic cartoon. Dust kicked up around them as they stomped toward the garrison camp, each of Tyranitar's steps thudding like the bass drop of a rave no one signed up for.
In his ears, the system chirped like a manic stockbroker on a sugar high:
[Acquired Negative Emotion from Ursaring +180]
[Acquired Negative Emotion from Gyarados +90]
[Acquired Negative Emotion from Jake +100]
David smirked like a man who just farted in a crowded elevator and was proud of it. "Yo! What's up? You boys playing a fun little game of who-can-throw-the-most-poop out here?"
Several angry Pokémon glared back at him—Ursaring looked one tantrum away from tearing up the turf, while a pair of soaked Gyarados thrashed in the mud like rejected theme park animatronics. Their eyes screamed violence, but David's smirk screamed I brought a Tyranitar—do something.
See, the thing was, this wasn't just any Tyranitar. This was Champion-level Tyranitar, the kind of beast that didn't flinch at an Ursaring's roar or even blink if a Gyarados decided to go full Kaiju. To David, this was just a victory lap.
Back at the edge of the camp, Ling Qi and Grant both facepalmed so hard you could hear the slap. Their expressions twisted like they were tasting vinegar.
"Pretend you don't know him," Grant muttered under his breath.
"Already ahead of you," Ling Qi replied, eyes focused intensely on a completely unrelated patch of grass.
David, meanwhile, had sniffed the air—and instantly regretted it. The wind had shifted, and something died in his nostrils. His face contorted in sheer disgust as he waved a hand in front of his nose like it could push the smell back to hell.
"What in Arceus' name is that stench?!" he cried, turning toward the garrison camp. "You guys doing open sewage experiments in here or what?"
From the camp, Tom popped his head out of a tent, looking like someone who had just been publicly accused of farting in church.
"What?! You're blaming us?" Tom squawked, his eyes wide with betrayal. "You're the one who spiked the Power Cubes with laxatives!"
David blinked. "That's an outrageous accusation," he said, very much not denying it.
Tom's jaw dropped. He pointed toward the disaster zone—Ursaring flailing wildly, Gyarados trying to body-slam tents like confused whales, and a few unfortunate Machoke clinging to a tree like scared squirrels.
"You turned the camp into a diarrheal war zone, David!"
"Don't be dramatic," David sniffed. "They just had a strong emotional reaction to the seasoning."
Tom looked like he was doing calculus on how much jail time was worth punching David in the face.
By now, most of the garrison had pieced it together. The poop storm, the moaning Pokémon, the smell so bad it had a gravitational pull—all roads led to David. Whatever goodwill he'd earned in the past evaporated like Gengar in sunlight.
Tom threw his hands up. "I was this close to thinking David had a conscience! But no—he's still the same agent of chaos!"
Next to him, Luna—white-haired, pale-faced, and clearly traumatized—nodded solemnly. "Maybe he has a conscience," she murmured. "Just not a functioning one."
David, entirely unfazed by the moral indictment, tilted his head as though pondering what next to ruin.
From the distance, a massive Nidoking thundered into view, and on its shoulders stood a figure—tall, brooding, and looking like someone who'd just seen a ghost eat his mortgage.
Giovanni.
As soon as his eyes locked on David's Tyranitar, Giovanni's pupils shrank to pinpoints.
"N-no. That's not possible…" he muttered, sweat beading at his temple. "Dusknoir's Hyper Beam should've obliterated its energy core!"
David's ears twitched as his system lit up like a casino jackpot:
[Acquired Negative Emotion from Giovanni +1000]
[Acquired Negative Emotion from Giovanni +2000]
[Acquired Negative Emotion from Giovanni +3000]
His eyes sparkled like a kid who just found out Santa does exist and he's giving out PS5s this year.
"Oho," David said, swiveling in his saddle to stare directly at Giovanni. "You smell that, Tyranitar? That's the scent of pure emotional breakdown."
To David, Giovanni wasn't a threat. He was a walking emotional ATM, and David had just hit the jackpot. Every time Giovanni panicked, the system chimed again with another glorious +1000 or more.
Honestly, it felt unethical to farm this man's misery.
David grinned wider.
But not unethical enough to stop.
Giovanni, unaware he was being used like a slot machine in a Vegas fever dream, gritted his teeth. "It can't be… I watched that Tyranitar get obliterated! You—what did you do?!"
David gave the most David answer possible: "I got good."
For a moment, everyone paused—the camp, the Pokémon, even the wind—as if collectively waiting for the next dumb thing David would say.
And he didn't disappoint.
He gave Giovanni a little finger wave, like he was greeting a neighbor over a garden fence instead of a mortal enemy riding a giant poison monster.
"Nice to see you again, pal! You look like you've aged ten years since our last chat. That's a compliment by the way."
Giovanni looked one panic attack away from leaping off Nidoking and dropkicking David in the face. His disbelief was so strong it could've powered a small town.
[Acquired Negative Emotion from Giovanni +5000]
David let out a satisfied sigh. "At this rate, I should start bottling your anxiety and selling it as an energy drink."
The fact that Tyranitar—previously thought dead—was now stomping around like it owned the place was just salt in the wound. Giovanni's Dusknoir had unleashed everything in its spectral arsenal, and yet here it was, living, breathing, and flexing its rocky muscles like a walking middle finger.
David couldn't have planned it better.
To top it off, Giovanni had been the one they were supposed to track down later.
Now?
He'd just shown up like a burrito delivery guy at midnight.
David glanced at the hovering notification window of the system like a rich man checking his stock earnings.
"Keep 'em coming," he whispered. "I'm gonna emotionally bankrupt you by dinner."
****
"Who the hell are you?"
That was the very normal, very justified question Giovanni asked as he stared down at David, riding proudly on the back of a perfectly healthy Tyranitar that, by all logic and previously known science, should be… well, dead.
David's smug little smirk could be seen from orbit. Tyranitar huffed smoke from its nostrils like a muscle-bound train with unresolved trauma.
Giovanni was still reeling.
He knew this Tyranitar. He remembered it. Vividly.
He also remembered obliterating its energy core. That wasn't the kind of wound you could just patch up with a Band-Aid and some berries. The Pokémon had been on life support even after Aron dumped a king's ransom worth of rare resources trying to keep it alive. Its strength had dropped drastically—at best, it was barely Quasi-Elite level. Giovanni had mentally already written its obituary.
And yet here it was.
Snarling. Roaring. Fully healed. Radiating so much power it practically had its own theme music.
Impossible.
Not even the Pokémon Alliance had figured out how to regenerate a shattered energy core. And now it was back to full power because… what? Because a random high school kid asked it nicely?
Giovanni felt his brain short-circuit. His eyelid twitched.
David saw that confusion—and did the only logical thing.
He struck a pose.
He jumped off Tyranitar's back, landed with all the grace of a Bidoof in rollerblades, and dramatically flared his coat like he was on a runway.
"You dare ask my name?" he bellowed, with the energy of someone who just watched a Johto soap opera. "Since you ask sincerely—then I shall answer mercifully!"
A beat of silence.
"I am… the Bloody Dark King of the Pacific!" he declared, finger pointed to the heavens. "DAVID!"
The camp went silent.
Everyone: "..."
Commander Grant buried his face in his hands, groaning into his palm like a man who regretted every life choice that led him to this moment. "First Giovanni and his Frankenstein projects… now this idiot."
Even Tyranitar gave David a sideways glance that read, You good, bro?
Giovanni, for his part, didn't dignify the nonsense with a response. He just narrowed his eyes, then pulled something from his coat—an egg.
A Pokémon egg, to be precise. Smooth, dark, and etched with glowing black markings that pulsed ominously like it was plotting something.
He raised the egg high above his head like it was the one ring, eyes wild.
"This…" he announced, "is my masterpiece!"
David rolled his eyes. "Oh boy, here we go…"
Giovanni continued, completely in love with the sound of his own voice. "I've injected the power of an ultra-ancient civilization into this egg! If the experiment succeeds, it will be the first Pokémon in the entire world capable of mastering Primordial Power from birth!"
He cackled. Madly. Maniacally. Like someone who mixed five cans of Red Bull with a bottle of glitter.
David deadpanned. "Cool. Have you considered therapy?"
Before Giovanni could respond, Tyranitar did.
With a snarl of pure rage, it opened its jaws—and blasted a Hyper Beam straight at Giovanni.
The golden light streaked across the sky like a meteor, sizzling with power, heading right for him and his dumb egg.
A split-second before impact, a green shimmer flared up around Giovanni—a barrier.
BOOM!
The Hyper Beam slammed into it, crackling, shaking the earth.
When the light faded, Giovanni was still standing, barely ruffled, but flanked now by a hovering figure. A ghost with a lantern gut, sunken eyes, and arms that looked like they'd claw your soul out for fun.
Dusknoir.
David's pupils shrank.
"Crap."
This wasn't just any Dusknoir. This thing was Quasi-Champion-level—a monster on par with his Tyranitar. And worse, there were four Elite-level ultra-ancient Pokémon stomping around the area like kaiju having a mid-life crisis.
The ground quaked as one of the ancient Pokémon launched a Hyper Beam directly at the camp.
"NOPE!" David yelped.
Behind him, the garrison defenders scrambled. All at once, they sent out every Pokémon they had—Blastoise, Arcanine, Luxray, even a panicked Wigglytuff who looked like it wanted to be anywhere else.
"Redirect it! Redirect it!" screamed Tom, flailing his arms.
Together, the defenders barely managed to deflect the beam—barely.
Tyranitar, meanwhile, stared down Dusknoir like it was seeing a ghost (literally and emotionally). That spectral bastard had pierced its energy core last time without mercy, and the trauma wasn't gone. It knew this fight could go either way.
On Giovanni's shoulder, Nidoking roared.
And Giovanni turned, his eyes on the garrison camp.
The place was in ruins. Tents burned. Trainers scrambled. Explosions echoed like a Michael Bay fever dream.
Even the strongest Pokémon couldn't hold back four simultaneous Elite-level assaults for long. The line was cracking.
Grant, panting and sweaty, landed beside David atop his Pidgeot. "We can't hold out much longer!"
David nodded grimly, eyes flicking toward the entrance of the Mystery Zone. A shimmering vortex of unstable light, it was the only known exit… and it was sealed.
"Giovanni must've shut it behind him," he muttered. "No one's getting out."
Grant exhaled sharply. "Then we hold as long as we can. The Alliance must be trying to open it from the outside."
David said nothing at first.
Then… a mischievous glint sparked in his eyes.
He turned to Tyranitar.
"Hey big guy?" he called. "Hyper Beam the Mystery Zone entrance. Blow it sky high. Send everyone out of here."
Everyone: "???????"
The camp froze.
Someone dropped their Poké Ball. Another person choked on their protein bar.
[SHOCKED.jpg]
Even Commander Grant, did a full-body flinch and immediately began walking backward like he'd just heard someone casually say "Let's summon Giratina."
"You—YOU TWO—ARE TERRORISTS!!" he screamed.
"I said to go out," David repeated calmly.
"Not die horribly. There's a difference."
Giovanni didn't even blink. "You're bluffing."
Was he? Honestly, even David wasn't sure. But it was too late to walk it back now.
Inside his head, the system was going nuts:
[Acquired Negative Emotion from Commander Grant +200]
[Acquired Negative Emotion from Ling Qi +200]
[Acquired Negative Emotion from Giovanni +1000]
He stood tall, arms folded, listening to that sweet, sweet digital cha-ching.
"I may not be a genius scientist," David said, smirking. "But I'm an excellent bad idea generator."
David's expression, which had been dead serious just moments ago, suddenly shifted into something far more dangerous: a slow, delighted grin.
Why?
Because Giovanni looked nervous.
The man had just watched David threaten to blow up the only exit from the Mystery Zone, essentially stranding everyone—including himself—in this volatile pocket dimension.
And that meant one thing: Giovanni actually wanted to get out alive.
That one sliver of fear? That was all the leverage David needed.
Meanwhile, Giovanni was staring at Tyranitar, sweat beading at his temples. The rock beast was still calmly standing in front of the Mystery Zone's glowing entrance, but its tail twitched ominously—like it was considering it.
Giovanni didn't like those odds.
Sure, Tyranitar hadn't fired off a Hyper Beam at the portal yet, but with David giving orders like a lunatic, there was no guarantee it wouldn't suddenly decide to turn that portal into dust and everyone inside into Mystery Soup.
He glanced down at the egg in his hands—dark, cracked with red streaks pulsing faintly. It trembled in his grip, vibrating as though a creature inside it were clawing to get out. According to Giovanni's calculations, it would hatch within the hour.
That egg was everything.
And if the portal went boom before it did… Aron wouldn't make it in time. No one would witness the birth of the first Larvitar in history with control over Primordial Power.
For the first time in a long time, Giovanni's face twisted into genuine concern. The guy looked like a skeleton with a bad haircut and stress-induced eye bags, but now? Now he actually seemed human.
He turned to David, who was just casually picking something from his teeth with a bit of stick.
"Hey! Kid!" Giovanni called, snapping David out of his weird flossing moment. "Let's settle this the Trainer way."
David blinked, pretending to think hard. "By 'Trainer' way, do you mean another high-stakes staring contest? I'm warning you, I've been training my eye squints."
Giovanni ignored the joke. "A real Pokémon battle. One-on-one. If you win, I'll call off everything. No one gets hurt. I swear it."
It was originally Giovanni's plan to use his Frankenstein-level ultra-ancient Pokémon squad to wipe out everyone in the Mystery Zone. A full-blown massacre to prove the success of his horrifying science fair project.
But now?
Tyranitar was back. Healthy. And pissed.
Which meant Plan A was dead in the water. So instead, Giovanni was just trying to stall—buying time for the Larvitar to hatch and for Aron to enter from outside.
He had zero intention of surviving this Mystery Zone.
But if David got trigger-happy with Tyranitar, and nuked the portal too soon, that dream would die with him.
David's eyes narrowed. He knew this was a time-wasting move. But hey—he was also trying to stall. The longer this mess dragged on, the more likely someone from the outside figured out how to reopen the portal.
"Fine," David said after a pause. "I agree."
Giovanni leapt down from Nidoking's shoulder with all the grace of a dying bat.
But just before he hit the ground, a shadow stretched beneath him—an eerie, elongated shape that shifted like it had a mind of its own. Then, in a flash, Dusknoir emerged from the darkness, arms like thick ghostly noodles. It gently caught Giovanni mid-air and set him down like an overprotective nanny ghost.
David's jaw dropped.
He stared. Then slowly whispered, "Okay that… was kinda sick."
And then, fueled by adrenaline and possibly dumb decisions, he sprinted forward with a mighty war cry and—
PUNCHED Giovanni square in the face.
Or at least, he tried to.
His fist came within two inches of Giovanni's nose when Dusknoir's massive ghost-hand caught it mid-air like it was catching a beach ball.
Giovanni stared at the punch hovering next to his face, shocked. His eyes widened as he looked at David's stance.
"You—what was that?!"
David blinked innocently. "You said Trainer battle."
"Yes, but I meant Pokémon battle! Not… whatever this was!"
The entire garrison camp stared at the scene, horrified and confused.
Everyone: [shocked.jpg]
Commander Grant looked like someone had just hit his soul with a frying pan.
Even Tom, standing beside Luna, whispered, "Did this guy just try to real-person-PK a man in a Pokémon duel.... Again?!"
Luna nodded slowly. "He did. I… I think he did."
The system chimed gleefully in David's ears:
[Acquired Negative Emotion from Giovanni +1000]
[Acquired Negative Emotion from Giovanni +2000]
[Acquired Negative Emotion from Giovanni +3000]
David's expression was so proud, you'd think he'd just discovered a new element called "Annoyium."
Giovanni, still flabbergasted, groaned. "I meant a Pokémon battle. You know—the kind with Pokémon! Not fists!"
David scratched his head sheepishly. "Ohhhh. That kind. Yeah, you should've said that earlier. Also, could your spooky haunted butler let go of my hand now?"
David glanced at Giovanni again. The guy looked like a stiff breeze could knock him over. His cloak was baggy, his skin was pale, and his arms had the muscle tone of overcooked noodles.
"Y'know," David said, tilting his head, "you don't look like you've eaten anything except weird berries for three years."
Giovanni didn't respond, but the hollow-eyed look said you're not wrong.
David turned to Tyranitar and gave it a thumbs-up. "New plan. Beat his ghost, not him. Apparently we're not allowed to punch each other anymore."
Tyranitar growled in agreement.
Meanwhile, David's brain was spinning.
That Dusknoir… its reactions were insane. It had caught his punch before it landed. A normal Dusknoir? With a species base Speed stat of forty-five? It should've been reacting slower than a Snorlax on melatonin.
David frowned. "Is that thing even legal? I want to see its license and registration."
Giovanni didn't answer. He simply stared at David like he was trying to decide whether this teenager was a comedic genius or just a walking mental breakdown.
Either way, one thing was clear.
This battle was about to get very, very stupid.
****
Dusknoir floated silently in front of David, still holding his arm in a grip firmer than the morality of a kindergarten teacher.
Its eerie red eye slowly rotated toward Giovanni, as if waiting for orders.
David wasn't struggling. He just kind of… hung there awkwardly, like a guy caught sneaking into a buffet through the bathroom.
Giovanni gave a lazy nod, and Dusknoir—grudgingly—released David's wrist.
David dusted himself off with fake dignity, then casually began strolling back toward Tyranitar like nothing had happened.
That was when it happened.
CLANG!
A heavy metal wrench fell out of David's pants and slammed into the ground with a noise loud enough to scare the local wildlife.
Everyone froze.
Giovanni: "..."
Commander Grant: "..."
Even Tyranitar looked sideways like, Bruh, why?
David stared at the wrench.
Then, very seriously, he picked it up and held it above his head like it was Excalibur.
"Aha!" he declared. "Is it not entirely logical for a high school student to carry a wrench into a dangerous, unstable Mystery Zone full of terrifying Pokémon and shady science projects?!"
Giovanni's eye twitched. "That's not logic. That's psychosis."
Grant stared blankly at the scene, muttering under his breath. "Has Pacific City just completely fallen apart? Are high schoolers arming themselves now? What's next, kindergartners with bazookas?"
Meanwhile, David coughed awkwardly and shuffled back to his original position beside Tyranitar, trying to pretend that nothing happened.
Totally normal.
Not holding a massive wrench like some plumber with unresolved trauma.
He coughed again, then clapped his hands together. "Alright! Time for the main event!"
He raised a hand dramatically. "Go! Pika—" he paused, caught himself, "—uh, I mean, Tyranitar!"
From the Poké Ball on his belt, Pikachu peeked out.
Pikachu: ( ಠ_ಠ )
[Acquired Negative Emotion from Pikachu +70]
[Acquired Negative Emotion from Pikachu +80]
[Acquired Negative Emotion from Pikachu +90]
David blinked. "What? It was a slip of the tongue."
Pikachu: (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻
Tyranitar, thankfully, had no identity crisis and lumbered forward like an armored SUV. The earth shook beneath its weight as it stepped into the battlefield.
Opposite him, Giovanni nodded to Dusknoir.
"Your turn. Show him how real Trainers battle."
Dusknoir floated forward lazily like it was just clocking in for another boring shift.
Giovanni's posture was relaxed, almost casual. In his head, he was already planning his post-victory evil laugh.
He's just a kid, Giovanni reminded himself. Even if that Tyranitar is back in fighting shape, he doesn't have the tactical edge. He's just winging it.
What Giovanni didn't realize was that David was winging it—and somehow, that made him even more dangerous.
Meanwhile, David was trying not to panic.
Sure, he had Tyranitar. But Giovanni wasn't a rookie. He had years of experience, absurd tactics, and a literal ghost henchman with the reaction time of a caffeine-powered ninja.
The gap between an average Trainer and an Elite wasn't just about Pokémon strength. It was knowledge. Strategy. Precision.
David? David had vibes.
Still, he had one thing going for him.
He knew how to stall.
Tyranitar let out a deafening roar.
The ground shivered as a sandstorm erupted around the battlefield. Rocks swirled. The wind screamed. Dust particles cut through the air like mini razors.
David grinned.
"Nice! Your Sand Stream ability is insane. This isn't just weather control—it's battlefield domination."
The sand whipped through the air, pelting Dusknoir's thick body. It floated calmly, but the wear was visible. Its spectral cloak rippled unnaturally in the howling wind.
David was already analyzing. Dusknoir wasn't a powerhouse attacker—it was a utility tank. It played dirty: Will-O-Wisp, Pain Split, Trick Room, Confuse Ray—the kind of moves that made battles drag on like unskippable cutscenes.
"Okay," David muttered, "we shut that nonsense down early."
He raised his arm.
"Tyranitar, Taunt!"
Tyranitar grunted, pointed at Dusknoir, and did something truly offensive—it crooked its finger and waved it in a "come at me, bro" motion.
Above Dusknoir's head, a giant red hashtag symbol materialized.
Giovanni blinked. "No. Wait."
Dusknoir glowed faintly… and then the glow flickered and fizzled.
No status moves.
No buffs.
No debuffs.
No tricks.
Taunt had taken effect.
David pumped his fist. "Let's gooo!"
This wasn't just a cheeky move—it was the exact counter to a setup ghost like Dusknoir. That thing relied on status moves like a toddler relies on snacks. And now? It was locked into only using direct attacks.
Giovanni squinted at the battlefield.
The sandstorm.
The Taunt.
The pressure.
He rubbed his forehead.
Why… did he suddenly feel like challenging this lunatic was a terrible idea?
He glanced at David, who was grinning, holding a wrench, and mumbling to himself about battle strategy like he'd just hacked the Matrix.
Giovanni gulped.
Even Commander Grant, from the sidelines, was now nervously eyeing David. "This… kid's not normal," he whispered.
Tom nodded. "No. He's something worse. He's improvising."
And somewhere off to the side, Luna was muttering, "This is either going to be the dumbest win in history… or the most brilliant accidental victory ever recorded."