Pokémon Detective Case Files

Chapter 373 Interlude 1: May the boxer catch his breath

Chapter 375 Interlude 1: May the Boxer Get a Breath of Fresh Air

Just as the Gym Leader of Wind Dew was piloting the Tornado plane across the sea, Fighting-type Elite Four member Renwu was accompanying the League Chairman in Fanba City to discuss the venue for the Pokémon World Championships.

After the long meeting ended and he said goodbye to Boss Ju and the elderly chairman, he walked alone in the alleyway of Fanba City filled with shipping containers.

When he first joined the league, Lianwu was always restless, finding the soft chairs in the meeting room more uncomfortable than the gravel ground on the battlefield. The formal occasions of wearing suits and ties made him feel uncomfortable, like a Fighting-type Pokémon bound by weighted straps.

But at some point, he became the one who took on all the daily affairs in the United States.

"How ironic," he chuckled self-deprecatingly, stretching his stiff wrists.

These fists, once invincible in the boxing ring, now ache from long hours of paperwork. The old wounds on their knuckles from combat sports now come into contact most frequently with paper and keyboards.

Suddenly, a porter darted out from the street in the distance, carrying building materials as it hurried past. This reminded Lian Wu of his original partner, who had long since evolved into a skilled builder—just as Pokémon evolve, people change without even realizing it.

Noticing the vibration, he pulled out his smartphone, which looked unusually small in his large hand.

The screen displayed the latest business report from the newly crowned champion, Hugo: the conspiracy behind the poisoning incident in Flying Cloud City had been successfully resolved.

If it were twenty-year-old Lian Wu, he might feel resentful about the junior's position, but now he can only breathe a sigh of relief that someone is finally sharing the burden of the league's affairs—although the fact that the champion insisted on working remotely from the office in Feiyun City was truly a headache.

There was neither discouragement nor jealousy.

Just as Kung Fu Weasel evolved and realized that the true essence of fighting is not brute force, he has gradually come to understand over the years, since receiving the teachings of Master Alder, that true strength often lies in things that seem unrelated to power—it's just unknown how long the current state of the league can be maintained.

"At least the number of documents has indeed decreased."

Lian Wu stretched his aching wrists and looked up at the tournament venue, which was already lit up in the distance.

The steel skeleton outlined a magnificent silhouette in the twilight, reminding him of his first time stepping onto the professional league stage in his youth. "Will I be ridiculed by those from the past for how I look now?"

He stared at his shadow, elongated by the streetlights, its outline slightly distorted on the rough asphalt.

Lian Wu clenched his fist, feeling the power accumulating between his knuckles—a power that had shattered the opponent's defenses countless times, but now it was being used more on the negotiating table in the conference room.

"What's the point of accumulating strength and experience day after day, only to passively watch everything like a spectator?" he muttered to himself.

Especially now that his mentor, Aldeck, has retired, what direction should he take after losing his life guide?

The evening breeze whistled through the gaps in the shipping containers. Lian Wu had no answer in his heart, but his steps remained steady, moving forward step by step.

His destination was an old training dojo, a place where he had briefly stopped during his travels when he was young.

The league naturally arranged a luxury hotel suite for him, but he declined—those soft beds with velvet sheets and enclosed spaces filled with fragrance would only make a fighter's nerves more tense. He preferred to sleep on the hardwood floors of the dojo, falling asleep to the sound of blows coming from the training ground in the distance.

"Mental fatigue should be tempered by physical training."

This wasn't a lesson taught to him by Adek, but rather something a long time ago, a former boxing opponent had told him after a match. Back then, Lian Wu was still young and dismissed the defeated opponent's words, believing that true strength lay solely in focusing on victory. But now, he agreed with those words more than ever.

After turning the last street corner, Lian Wu suddenly stopped.

"Come out."

He didn't turn around; his voice was calm, as if he had already anticipated the other person's appearance.

"...I think I shouldn't have made any footsteps."

A slightly surprised voice came from behind.

Lian Wu slowly turned around and saw the young king of Team Plasma, N, riding a hovering gear monster, rising slowly from the shadows of the shipping container. His green hair fluttered slightly in the night breeze, and his eyes held a certain unfathomable emotion.

"Although your gear monster has stopped spinning and is no longer making the noise of gears meshing, my ears aren't so dulled that I wouldn't hear the electrical current released on the ground by 'Electromagnetic Levitation.'"

Lian Wu turned around, ready for battle, already holding the Poké Ball containing the old repairman in his hand.

"My arrival this time was not part of Team Plasma's plan, and I even managed to shake off those three ninjas. However, you shouldn't be interested in these things."

N looked at Lian Wu's still vigilant and solemn expression and smiled self-deprecatingly.

Not every member of the alliance is as easy to talk to as Detective Hugo; in fact, that guy is the odd one out.

"What's your purpose in following me here?"

Lian Wu lowered his thick eyebrows, and although he did not adopt a fighting stance, the muscles on his strong arms were already taut.

"Neither of us wants to start a fight in the street like this, so why don't we move to a more convenient place to talk?"

N sighed softly, jumped off the gear monster, and calmly came within arm's reach of Lian Wu.

The fighting champion suppressed the urge to throw a punch, frowning: "Why should I listen to you?"

N did not answer directly. He raised his hand and pointed to a shadowy alleyway in the distance behind him.

"Did you know? There used to be an illegal fighting arena underground in this area of ​​Fanba City. Every night, the whistles of cargo ships would drown out the screams coming from underground. Gamblers, wearing masks, would place wild bets in the circular stands, while in the center of the arena, Pokémon injected with high-potency stimulants would be forced to tear and fight their former companions, their eyes bloodshot and bloody saliva dripping from their fangs."

The young man's voice was soft, yet it caused Lian Wu's pupils to contract sharply.

"Later, the Unova League shut down the place, but the injured Pokémon were not properly cared for. The Pokémon Center's medical facilities could not heal the children's wounded hearts, nor could they fully heal their physical injuries. No trainers were willing to adopt these dangerous duelists, and the plan to release them back into the wild was abandoned due to constant delays."

N's fingertips traced across the darkened night sky. "Now they roam the shadows of the city, forming their own groups with more of their abandoned companions—like underground gangs among Pokémon. Even now, the successive Gym Leaders of the Sailboat City are helpless against them."

Lian Wu's back suddenly straightened. His martial artist's intuition made him keenly aware that countless eyes were flashing with dangerous light in the darkness.

From the corners where the streetlights couldn't reach, came the faint, scraping sounds of claws scraping the ground.

"So you manipulated them?" Lian Wu laughed angrily, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked. "Trying to coerce me this way?"

N shook his head: "These children are following along voluntarily. Their presence is simply to maintain the necessary restraint in this conversation."

He suddenly stretched out his hand and made a "please" gesture.

Above the two men, the rusty metal of the shipping container vibrated ominously. A rogue crocodile with an old scar on its neck slowly appeared, thick saliva dripping from between its fangs.

Further away, more dark figures are gathering.

"Now, can we have a proper talk?" N tried his best to keep his voice friendly, but to Lian Wu, it sounded like a blunt knife slowly pressing against his throat.

The Fighting King snorted coldly, glanced once more at the dimly lit residential buildings in the distance, and decided to follow the Team Plasma King, whose purpose was unclear.

N led him into the alley and through layers of rusted iron gates.

Finally, Lianwu arrived at the ruins of the underground arena. This birthplace of evil had changed hands several times and was eventually abandoned due to rumors of being haunted. Now it has become a gathering place for stray Pokémon.

Lian Wu was no stranger to such dueling arenas.

Before becoming Ardek's apprentice, he was a street martial artist who frequented similar places and even once stood on the field as a competitor.

At this moment, Lian Wu and N stood facing each other in the empty and dimly lit arena.

The iron cage that imprisoned the elves is long gone, but the scratches on the mottled walls have reappeared through the paint as time has passed.

The air was thick with the stench of rust and old blood, as if this forgotten building was still silently recounting the atrocities of the past.

"Did you block nearby communication signals because you were afraid I would call my allies from the Alliance?"

1

As a pillar of the alliance, Lian Wu never lacked prudent judgment, but the gear monster floating behind N interfered with the phone's electromagnetic signal, preventing him from sending messages.

"I meant no harm," the green-haired youth declared.

"I just want to convey my wishes in the most sincere way possible." He raised his hand, and several wounded dark ravens flew out of the shadows and landed on his shoulder. "Some things are better said face to face to be truly sincere."

"Sincerity?" The fighting king scoffed.

He suddenly spread his legs apart, his shoes leaving two clear marks on the dusty ground, and raised his arms, assuming a fighting stance.

With a crisp sound as the Poké Ball landed, the burly builder's body appeared in a red light, the thick concrete pillar gleaming with a metallic sheen in his hands.

He asked again, "Plasma Cluster King N, what exactly is your purpose?"

"The person standing before you right now is not a member of Team Plasma, but just an ordinary trainer." The green-haired youth bowed slightly. "We chose this place simply because we needed a place where we could remain undisturbed. After all, even I couldn't possibly break into the impregnable League headquarters without a sound."

Lian Wu's pupils contracted slightly.

A premonition rose in his heart, but his dignity as the King of the League compelled him to ask clearly, "What exactly do you want?"

"It's nothing earth-shattering." N's tone suddenly became solemn. He slowly raised his right hand and placed it on his chest. "According to tradition, before challenging the league champion, he should first fight against the four Heavenly Kings under his command. Isn't that reasonable?"

The arena fell into a deathly silence.

Lian Wu's breathing stopped at that moment, and all he could hear was the increasingly clear sound of his own heartbeat.

The sounds coming from the audience, and the mottled moss, seemed to be watched by countless ghostly gazes.

Although the gamblers of yesteryear are no more, the building seems to still remember the fervor of every bloody battle—and even now, it still yearns for a new round of fighting.

"The rules can be based on the Alliance's official King of Fighters tournament, a six-on-six all-single match." N's voice echoed in the empty arena. "If even King of Fighters feels unprepared, we can change the rules or reschedule."

"No need."

Lian Wu's response was resolute, each word sounding as if it had been struck from an anvil.

The challenger before him had unclear intentions, and avoiding combat might be the best course of action at this moment, but the fighter's spirit would not allow him to make that choice.

Lian Wu finally understood why his Dark-type colleague was able to join Team Plasma on the Royal Navy. Perhaps from the day Master Alder resigned from his Champion position, he had already begun to look forward to this battle.

He slowly raised his fists and slammed them together in front of his chest, the orange-red fingerless gauntlets making a muffled sound—this was his habitual gesture before the start of a duel.

"I'm always ready for battle!"

An ominous Murkrow took flight, and a cacophony of screams erupted from the stands. The cries of the wandering Pokémon mingled together, creating a twisted, frenzied spectacle.

The old craftsman and the gear monster stepped forward simultaneously in perfect unison.

"Sizzle."

At this critical moment, one of the Pokémon accidentally triggered the circuit, and the broken spotlight suddenly began to flicker.

As if they had heard the referee's command, the young man and the fighter's commands rang out simultaneously.

The already tilted light bulb flickered on and off, overlapping the shadows of the two trainers and their partners, projecting them together onto the mottled wall, like two ferocious beasts fighting and tearing at each other.

This forgotten arena is witnessing a long-awaited, truly evenly matched death match.