AUTHOR'S NOTE / CONTENT WARNING:
This chapter includes sexual assault, violence, and revenge-driven cruelty.
If you're sensitive to these topics, I strongly recommend skipping this chapter.
You won't miss key plot information—there will be a brief recap at the start of the next chapter.
"You shouldn't know my name yet."
The words landed soft, but the effect wasn't. Elise's confidence snapped like glass. Her smile died mid-breath, and she scrambled back on the stone, eyes wide—finally seeing the thing she'd been talking to. Not a prey. A predator.
Her hand flashed, and a knife flew. Fast. Clean. Professional.
Enzo didn't flinch. He shifted half a step, letting the blade kiss the air where his throat had been. Elise's fingers dove for her Poké Ball, but Enzo moved first. A boot cracked against the side of her head. Not a dramatic kick—an efficient one. It didn't aim to hurt; it aimed to end options.
Elise rolled, stunned, but Enzo was already on her, fingers tangling in her hair like a leash. A fist drove into her face, bursting her nose and painting her lip with blood. She tried to scream through it, but Enzo dragged her hair, breath, and dignity across the stone toward the shallow water pit Sandile had dug days ago. He stopped at the edge, looking down at the clear water as if it were a mirror, then smiled.
"Look at you," Enzo said, his voice almost amused. "Pretty girls shouldn't be this dirty."
Elise jerked, trying to twist away, but Enzo didn't argue. He shoved her head into the water.
Cold swallowed her sound. Her hands hit stone, clawing for leverage, while her legs kicked, frantic and useless. Enzo held her there like he was rinsing mud off a boot. Seconds stretched. The struggle turned ugly, and when her movements started to break—when panic turned into pure survival—Enzo pulled her up.
Elise erupted out of the water, choking, coughing, gasping like air was a privilege she'd forgotten she needed. She sucked two desperate breaths and screamed with everything she had.
"HELP! ATTACK NOW! HELP ME—!"
Enzo laughed. Not loud. Just enough to mock her.
"No," he said. "You don't need to scream louder."
Elise blinked, water pouring down her face. Enzo leaned closer, eyes calm. "Your two friends still won't hear you."
Her blood ran colder than the water. "How…?" she rasped.
Before she could finish the thought, footsteps emerged from the ravine corridor. Elise's eyes lit up like she had just seen rescue. She snapped her head toward him and screamed again, voice cracking with performative desperation.
"HELP! The Mad Bomber—he's trying to kill me!"
The newcomer didn't even look impressed. He looked… annoyed.
"For Arceus sake!" Proton muttered. "Shut up. You're loud."
Elise froze. Then Proton turned to Enzo and, with the casual exhaustion of a man returning from errands, tossed two round objects onto the ground. They thudded heavily against the stone.
"I made a mess," Proton said, wiping dust off his gloves. "But Golbat helped."
Enzo's mouth curved. "Good."
Elise's gaze snapped to the objects on the ground, and she paled as if hearing a death sentence. For half a second, she didn't understand. Then she did. Because those weren't "Balls." Those were heads, frozen in panic—her two accomplices.
They were gone. Removed from the board. And Elise… Elise finally looked truly alone.
Her breath started coming faster. She tried one last reach for her Poké Ball, but Enzo hit her again. A sharp punch that snapped her head sideways.
"You never learn," Enzo said, sounding almost disappointed. He plucked the Poké Ball from her fingers like taking candy from a child. "Want your Pokémon?" He tilted his head. "I'll do you a favor."
Click. Light burst.
A Weepinbell appeared—vine body tense, mouth open, eyes furious. Green potential. The kind of asset that didn't belong in weak hands. It saw Elise on the ground, bleeding, soaked, humiliated. Its vines snapped forward to defend her, but then a giant shadow dropped.
Corvisquire hit the Weepinbell like a falling guillotine of steel and muscle. Stone dust exploded outward. Weepinbell collapsed instantly—fainted before it could even finish its first scream.
Elise stared. Her last card had been erased in one second. Her knees went soft, and her voice broke into pure pleading.
"P-please—don't kill me. I'll pay. I'll give you points, anything—just—"
Enzo crouched in front of her, calm as a man reading a label. "Don't worry," he said. "We're not monsters."
Elise tried to believe it. Then her eyes flicked to the heads on the ground, and her throat tightened.
"I—I was ordered," Elise sobbed. "Ariana told my sister—my sister told me. I didn't want to hurt you. I swear. I was just… following orders. Please."
Enzo turned his head slightly. "Did you record that?"
Proton lifted his TR Device and gave a small nod. "Crystal."
Elise's face crumpled. Enzo looked back at her and smiled, polite as a knife.
"I understand," he said. "Really."
Elise's eyes brightened—hope, stupid and desperate. Then Enzo's voice went colder. "But if you try to kill me… or anyone close to me—you live with consequences."
Elise started shaking. Enzo stood, dusted his hands, and spoke over his shoulder to Proton like he was assigning chores.
"I'm taking her inside. Clean up out here."
Proton didn't hesitate. No pity. No speeches. He just nodded once.
Elise tried to crawl backward, but Enzo grabbed her by the hair again and dragged her toward the officer's tent like she weighed nothing. Inside, the warmth felt wrong—too domestic for what was happening. Enzo pushed her into his room, shut the flap, and looked around as if showing a guest his home.
"This is my humble residence," Enzo said softly. "And you're going to learn something new."
Elise begged. She promised. She swore. She cried. None of it reached him. Because behind Enzo's eyes, only one face existed. Ronnie. A grin through pain. A single word: Run.
Enzo's jaw clenched. He took the jump rope he used every morning—worn handle, clean knots—and let it hang between his hands.
"I've been making progress with this," Enzo said, almost conversational. "Today, I'm using it for something else." He stepped closer. "Don't move too much. It only makes it worse. And focus. If you lose consciousness now, it won't be useful, will it? I need you wide awake... learning everything."
He smiled, thin and controlled. "So, to keep your sanity from slipping away, let's play a game. Tell me... what is one thousand minus seven?"
While methodically taking off his clothes, he added, "Keep counting down out loud. If you stop, or if you get the math wrong... I'll have to start all over again."
Outside the room, the North wind kept screaming like nothing mattered. Inside, Elise's sobs and numbers turned into something ragged and broken. And the night dragged on.
Morning came grey and sharp.
Enzo stepped out of the room like he'd just finished training—calm face, controlled breathing, eyes empty of softness. He left Gastly inside. Not as comfort. As a lock. Gastly's instructions were simple: If she moves—correct her.
Proton emerged, groggy, and stopped when he saw Enzo handling Elise's TR Device.
"What are you doing?" Proton asked.
Enzo didn't look up. "Final exam is coming," he said. "You need to be top one hundred."
He flicked Elise's TR Device toward Proton. Proton caught it, confused.
Enzo's eyes finally met his. "Congratulations," Enzo said flatly. "You just went from one-fifty-three… to twenty-five."
Proton stared at the number on the screen like it was poison. Then Enzo raised his own TR Device and spoke into it, voice perfectly calm.
"I'd like to speak with Instructor Viper."
A grunt laughed on the other end. "Yeah, recruit, and I'm with Giovanni—ahaha. What do you want?"
Enzo's expression didn't change.
"My name is Enzo," he said. "Rank one."
His voice sharpened—still quiet, but absolute.
"And I want Instructor Viper. Now."