In a secluded corner of the Team Rocket base.
A man with the rank of Company Commander strode into the room. "It's time to shear the sheep again. The new recruitment cycle has begun."
"Report your earnings. Remember, I have to kick a significant portion of these profits up to my own superiors," the Commander said, addressing a group of Rocket members.
"Wait... where's Hongsheng? I remember he performed well last time, yet he's nowhere to be seen. Did he forget the meeting time?"
The Commander scanned the room, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Kurazo Taro, you answer."
The Commander, Yajiro, picked up a cup of freshly brewed tea.
The man called upon, Kurazo Taro, trembled as he spoke. "Commander Yajiro... Hongsheng kicked a steel plate while trying to collect credits. He was forced into a death match, lost, and has been demoted to menial labor."
"What did you say?!"
Commander Yajiro exploded in rage. He hurled his teacup at Kurazo Taro's feet. The precious ceramic shattered into a thousand pieces. Scalding tea splashed onto Taro's shins, making him scream internally in agony.
Despite the pain, Taro kept his face neutral, looking at Yajiro with a deferential expression.
"Tell me exactly what happened. And don't you dare embellish it," Yajiro growled. He sensed the gravity of the situation. Having one of his men lose a death match and get demoted was a massive slap to his face. He wondered if another officer was targeting him.
Extorting "protection fees" was an unwritten rule in Team Rocket; the lion's share of that money always ended up with the Executives.
Kurazo Taro recounted the entire event truthfully.
"What a moron. He tried to squeeze a soft persimmon and hit a giant nail instead. Has he no eyes?" Yajiro fumed. "Where are the lackeys Hongsheng picked up? Bring them here immediately."
"Commander Yajiro, I've already secured the four of them," Taro said, clapping his hands. Every movement sent a jolt of fire through his scalded legs. I'm definitely going to have blisters. What a rotten day; I'll have to visit the infirmary, he grumbled to himself.
Four bound and gagged Rocket reserves were dragged into the room.
"I have a mission for you," Yajiro said slowly, pacing before the captives. "Since it was because of you that my capable subordinate was demoted, I am very displeased. This 'Kongjian' has insulted my reputation."
"For the upcoming Deserted Island trial, I have prepared a special Pokémon for each of you. Use them to kill the man who shamed me."
"Succeed, and I will give you the chance to join my unit directly."
Yajiro clapped his hands. An aide brought forth a velvet-lined tray holding four Poké Balls.
"These four have already been 'disciplined.' They are killing machines. If you cannot kill a single boy even with these, don't bother coming back."
Yajiro scooped up the four balls and threw them roughly at the recruits. Inside were a Fearow, a Golbat, an Electrode, and a Beedrill. Their eyes were vacant and glazed, looking more like puppets than living creatures. Strange, glowing patterns etched their skin, and they radiated an unnaturally intense power.
"These are clones from the Rocket labs. They have a lifespan of only ten days, but their strength is at the Elite level. They will follow your orders perfectly, but after ten days, their genes will collapse into a puddle of liquid. Find that brat and end him before then."
"Furthermore, I've prepared extra weaponry for you. If the Pokémon collapse before he's dead, use these to finish the job."
Yajiro waved his hand, dismissing them as his subordinates brought out four large equipment bags. He signaled for the recruits to be untied.
"Boss, I didn't expect such a windfall!" the scrawny lackey whispered to Seita once they were clear.
"This is what I call taking advantage of a situation," Seita muttered. "My old boss was unlucky to hit that monster, but his misfortune is my opportunity. However, we shouldn't rush in immediately."
"That Arbok was terrifying. Even an official member couldn't touch it," Seita noted. "But we can spread rumors. We'll tell everyone he's selfish—that he took first place but refused to help anyone else tame their Pokémon."
Seita grinned smugly. "Once that news spreads, his reputation will be trashed. He'll be an outcast."
"Wait, Boss... what was his name again?" the lackeys asked, scratching their heads. They realized they didn't actually know. Everything was still highly classified.
"Hmph. Lucky bastard," Seita spat, his mood souring instantly.
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