Gary waited for nearly fifteen minutes.
The Battle Hall remained loud and vibrant during that time. The roulette wheel above the arena continued to spin at intervals, producing cheers, groans, and bursts of argument from the crowd below. Every outcome felt theatrical, exaggerated by flashing lights and amplified commentary.
Then the side door leading from the inner corridor opened.
A woman stepped out confidently, her movements fluid and unhurried.
She wore a green cropped top that revealed her toned midriff and fitted jeans that emphasized her long legs. Her wheat-colored skin glowed warmly beneath the arena lights. A silver bracelet shimmered faintly as her arm swung naturally at her side. Her hair flowed behind her with each step, swaying in rhythm—as if she were dancing even while walking.
This was Dahlia.
The Frontier Brain of the Battle Hall.
Her personal hobby was dancing, and it showed in every gesture. Her body language was expressive and open. She carried herself with absolute ease, completely unrestrained by self-consciousness. Her presence drew attention without effort.
Passionate.
Bold.
Fiery.
She scanned the hall casually, hands resting on her hips.
"Hey! Which one of you is Gary?"
Her voice was clear and energetic, cutting cleanly through the noise of the arena.
Several Trainers turned their heads immediately.
Gary rose from his seat without hesitation.
He walked toward her calmly and stopped at a respectful distance.
"Hello, Miss Dahlia. My name is Gary. Mr. Scott recommended me to challenge you."
"You're Gary?"
Dahlia looked him up and down without the slightest embarrassment. Her gaze was direct, assessing—but not hostile.
Then she grinned.
"You're pretty handsome. I didn't expect that."
Gary's expression did not change.
He met her eyes steadily.
Dahlia chuckled.
"Well, since you're here to challenge me, come on."
She turned and began walking toward the preparation corridor without waiting for confirmation.
Gary followed.
Her posture remained relaxed and confident. The sway of her hips was natural, unforced—rhythmic in a way that reflected years of dance practice. She didn't exaggerate her movements. She simply moved as she pleased, fully aware of the effect she created.
Gary felt a faint tightening in his chest.
He was no longer a child.
And Dahlia clearly enjoyed dressing in a way that attracted attention.
Suddenly, she stopped and turned sharply.
"If you're going to look, don't be so stiff about it," she teased.
Gary's expression froze for half a second.
Then he smiled faintly.
"Alright."
Dahlia blinked.
Most teenage challengers would flush red instantly under that kind of teasing. Some would stammer. Others would avoid eye contact completely.
Gary did none of those things.
There was no embarrassment.
No flustered denial.
Just quiet composure.
Dahlia laughed softly, tilting her head.
"Interesting."
Gary had lived two lifetimes. Compared to that, a little playful provocation meant nothing.
They entered a private waiting room reserved for official matches. The atmosphere inside was quieter, insulated from the noise outside. A large wall-mounted screen displayed the ongoing roulette battle in real time.
Dahlia leaned casually against the wall, crossing one leg over the other.
"That's the current match," she said. "Once it wraps up, it's our turn."
Gary studied the screen.
"Only one battlefield?"
The Battle Hall was enormous. With its commercial success and popularity, it seemed unlikely that it would operate with a single arena.
Dahlia waved dismissively.
"The main arena is for official matches and high-level roulette challenges. That's the one broadcast publicly."
On the screen, the arena was fully visible. The audience seats were nearly packed. Bright spotlights illuminated the battlefield. Every spin of the roulette wheel was accompanied by dramatic music.
The roulette format had made the Battle Hall wildly popular.
Tourists came just to watch.
Gamblers came to bet.
Shops inside sold themed merchandise, rare items, TMs, and even limited-edition souvenirs.
It was less a traditional battle facility and more a hybrid between competitive arena and entertainment complex.
"Your matches start immediately?" Gary asked.
"No appointment system?"
Dahlia tilted her head slightly.
"Why? Weren't you ready before coming?"
"Of course I was," Gary replied calmly. "But open matches like this… aren't you concerned about losing face if something unexpected happens?"
Dahlia laughed, pushing off the wall.
"That's the best part."
She stepped a little closer, her eyes bright.
"Battles here are random. Completely unpredictable. That's what makes them exciting."
She pointed at the roulette wheel displayed above the battlefield.
"You read the rules outside, right?"
Gary nodded.
At the start of each battle, the roulette wheel would spin.
Possible outcomes included:
Status conditions applied to both Pokémon.
• Immediate weather activation.
• Forced Pokémon exchange.
• Random battle modifiers.
• Even instant victory for one side.
It was chaos by design.
If the wheel landed on "Sleep," one side could begin the battle effectively crippled.
If it landed on forced exchange, a Trainer could be compelled to use their opponent's Pokémon.
Pure power was not enough.
Gary folded his arms.
"Miss Dahlia, you don't manipulate the wheel, do you?"
Dahlia placed her hands on her hips, eyebrows lifting.
"You're in a Frontier Battle. I don't need to cheat."
She leaned slightly closer, lowering her voice.
"If you're unlucky, that's not my responsibility."
Gary examined her carefully.
Her expression was open, almost amused. There was no flicker of calculation or concealed intent.
And she was right.
Unlike public roulette matches, Frontier Brain battles were about reputation and prestige. The Frontier Symbols were issued by Scott. Whether she won or lost would not affect the Hall's daily profits.
Gary nodded.
"Understood."
"Good."
She straightened and left briefly to prepare the arena.
Gary turned his attention back to the screen.
The match currently displayed featured Luxray versus Cacturne.
The roulette had activated status conditions at the start.
Luxray was burned.
Cacturne was poisoned.
"Raaaay!"
Luxray growled, flames flickering weakly across its fur. The burn reduced its physical attack power significantly.
"Cactuuurne…"
Cacturne's eyes glowed coldly as poison slowly drained its vitality.
Despite the poison, Cacturne held the advantage.
Luxray depended primarily on physical attacks. Burn crippled its offensive output.
Each exchange favored Cacturne more.
After several tense turns, Cacturne secured the final blow.
"The match is over! The Red Side wins!"
The announcer's amplified voice boomed through the hall.
"And now—special announcement! A Challenger has arrived to face our Frontier Brain! All queued matches are temporarily suspended!"
The crowd erupted instantly.
"A Frontier Battle?!"
"No way! It's been weeks!"
"Call everyone!"
"The odds are going to explode!"
"Open the betting lines!"
Excitement surged like a wave through the audience.
Frontier Battles were rare events.
Only Trainers personally recommended by Scott could issue such challenges. And because challengers' identities and strengths were often unknown, betting odds fluctuated wildly.
The gambling energy intensified almost immediately.
Screens along the walls began displaying projected odds.
Staff hurried to organize seating and clear the arena floor.
Gary observed silently.
The Battle Hall wasn't simply about combat.
It was structured chaos.
Calculated unpredictability.
An arena where skill and luck collided under flashing lights.
Twenty minutes later, the battlefield was cleared completely.
Spotlights dimmed, then refocused onto the central arena.
The massive roulette wheel above the battlefield gleamed brilliantly, its polished surface reflecting multicolored lights.