The camp was quiet. The excitement of the loot distribution had faded, replaced by the heavy, satisfied exhaustion of soldiers who had just become rich.
Enzo walked to a secluded corner of the plateau, away from the others. He held the Poké Ball containing Laurence's Houndoom.
It vibrated in his hand—angry, restless. Even inside the sphere, the beast knew its master was gone.
Enzo didn't open it immediately. He touched the interface.
System. Inject Virus.
A low hum resonated through the metal casing. The genetic rewrite was instantaneous.
[ SYSTEM UPDATE ] Target: Houndoom Action: Genetic Optimization Status: COMPLETE
[ POKÉMON PROFILE — UPDATED ] Specimen: Houndoom (VIRUS ACTIVE) Level: 35 Potential: BLUE ➝ DEEP BLUE Ability: Flash Fire Bond Indicator: "Hostile. Loyalty tether severed."
Enzo released the lock.
Flash.
The Houndoom materialized on the stone. It didn't bark. It crouched instantly, horns lowered, flames licking at the corners of its mouth. Its eyes were fixed on Enzo with pure, unadulterated hate. It remembered the Teleport. It remembered the knife.
Enzo didn't flinch. He projected his thoughts directly into the dog's mind.
Enzo (telepathy): Your trainer is dead. Now you are mine. The sooner you realize that, the better for both of us.
The Houndoom snarled, a guttural sound like grinding rocks.
Houndoom: You cheated. You used tricks. In a fair fight, I would have burned your bird to ash.
Enzo shook his head.
Enzo (telepathy): There is no such thing as a fair fight. There is only winning and dying. Laurence died. I won.
The hound took a step forward, heat radiating from its body. It wanted blood.
Enzo (telepathy): But if your pride needs a meal... fine.
Enzo pointed to his side.
Enzo (telepathy): Fight him. If you win, you can leave. If you lose, you obey me forever.
Out of the shadows stepped Krokorok (Level 36).
The crocodile stood on two legs, adjusting his black eye-pattern like sunglasses. He looked calm. Bored, even.
Houndoom (Level 35) narrowed its eyes.
Houndoom: Deal.
The hound lunged. Fire Fang.
It was fast—Elite speed. But Krokorok didn't back down.
"Mud-Slap," Enzo commanded quietly.
Krokorok kicked a wave of dense, sandy grit straight into the Houndoom's face. It wasn't a damaging move—it was blinding. The hound yelped, shaking its head to clear the grit, its accuracy ruined.
In that split second of blindness, Krokorok vanished from the front line.
He reappeared behind the hound, grabbing the beast by the neck with clawed hands.
"Bulldoze," Enzo said.
Bulldoze was concentrated.
Krokorok slammed the Houndoom into the stone floor, driving the impact downward with crushing force. The ground rippled. The hound's legs buckled.
"Bite."
Krokorok clamped his jaws onto the back of the Houndoom's neck. Not to kill—to pin. He held the dog there, face pressed into the dirt, struggling uselessly against the superior weight.
The fight was over in ten seconds.
Enzo walked over. He sprayed a Potion on the Houndoom's bruises.
The dog stopped struggling. It lay there, panting, humiliated.
Enzo (telepathy): Don't look so sad. Laurence made you strong... but he had limits.
Enzo extended his hand.
Enzo (telepathy): I will make you a king. Stronger.
Houndoom looked up. It saw the Krokorok, the Corviknight circling above, the power radiating from this human.
Slowly, the hound lowered its head.
Submission accepted.
Later that afternoon, the atmosphere on the plateau changed.
Enzo released his entire team. It was rare for them all to be out at once without a fight to fight.
Corviknight perched on a high rock, polishing his steel feathers. Weezing floated around, arguing with itself. Krokorok leaned against a boulder, looking cool.
Houndoom lay apart from the group, paws crossed, watching the chaos with brooding silence. He was still holding onto his pride, refusing to play, though his ears twitched attentively every time the wind shifted.
Haunter was having a crisis of purpose—he kept trying to pop out of shadows to scare Deino, but since the dragon was blind, the jumpscares didn't work. Haunter would make a terrifying face, and Deino would just bump into him and keep walking, leaving the ghost confused.
Porygon2 hovered dutifully above the stumbling baby dragon, calculating probability trajectories and acting as a digital babysitter to ensure Deino didn't accidentally walk off a cliff.
But the star of the show was Deino.
The small, blue dragon was blind as a bat. He trotted around the camp, bumping into crates, tripping over rocks, and squeaking at everything.
At one point, he bit Corviknight's tail, thinking it was food.
Corviknight flinched, looked down at the tiny ball of fur and teeth, and simply patted Deino on the head with a massive steel wing, acting like a tired father.
Weezing's small head screamed at the baby: "GET AWAY! I'M DANGEROUS!" The big head just smiled: "Awww… he bites…"
It was the first time the North felt… peaceful.
Enzo took a nap and woke up just as the sun was setting.
He walked to the fire, where Proton and Ronnie were already eating rehydrated stew.
Ronnie was in the middle of a story, waving his spoon around.
"...so I'm telling you, the Rattata lunged, and I didn't have a Pokémon, right? So I just… I improvised! I bent my knees and launched myself!"
Enzo sat down. "Ronnie… you can't use Quick Attack. You're a human."
Ronnie looked at him, dead serious. "But Boss, I swear, my form was perfect! If I had a tail, it would have glowed white!"
Proton choked on his water, laughing so hard he nearly fell off his log.
Enzo shook his head, a genuine smile breaking through.
"You guys did good work," Enzo said. "Only four days left. Now, we consolidate. No high-intensity training. We save our strength for the Exam."
They nodded.
Enzo reached into his bag.
"And to celebrate surviving the purge..."
He pulled out two expensive bottles of alcohol he'd bought from the Exchange Store weeks ago.
In the Pokémon world, human physiology was robust. A sixteen-year-old could take a hit from a Geodude and live; alcohol restrictions were practically non-existent for field agents.
Ronnie's eyes lit up. "Now we're talking, Boss!"
Enzo popped the corks.
"To Unit Lambda," Enzo toasted.
"To Lambda!" they cheered.
They started drinking.
The sun rose way too loud.
Enzo opened his eyes and immediately regretted being alive. His head felt like a construction site where a Machamp was using Jackhammer on his frontal lobe.
He groaned, sitting up.
The first thing he noticed was the bottles.
Last night, there had been two bottles.
Now, scattered across the campsite like the aftermath of a glass factory explosion, there were at least thirty empty bottles.
Enzo blinked, trying to focus.
He grabbed his TR Device. His notifications were blinking red.
[ TRANSACTION ALERT ] Service: Urgent Night Delivery (Hazard Zone Surcharge) Item: Premium Spirit Case x3 Cost: 19,800 RP
Enzo stared at the screen. almost 20,000 points. They had drunk nearly a third of their individual loot in one night.
He looked around for the culprits.
Ronnie was sleeping face-down in a pile of food wrappers. Someone—probably Proton—had written "LAMBDA FORCE" across his forehead in permanent marker.
Proton was nowhere to be seen.
Then Enzo heard a retching sound.
Behind a large rock, Proton was on his hands and knees, emptying his stomach. His massive Crobat was hovering over him, gently patting his back with the tip of its wing, looking genuinely concerned.
Enzo rubbed his temples.
"Never again," he whispered. "Next time we drink, it's in a city. Not on an island where everything wants to kill us."
Enzo stood up to stretch, checking his pockets out of habit.
His hand brushed against a Poké Ball.
He frowned.
He counted his belt and pockets. Corviknight, Weezing, Krokorok, Deino, Porygon2, Houndoom, Haunter.
Seven.
Everyone was accounted for.
So why was there an eighth ball in his coat pocket?
A cold sweat broke through his hangover.
"GUYS!" Enzo shouted. "GROUP UP! ROLL CALL!"
Proton stumbled out from behind the rock, wiping his mouth. Ronnie jumped up, looking around wildly, the "LAMBDA FORCE" on his forehead glistening in the sun.
"What?! Are we under attack?!" Ronnie yelled.
"Check your Pokémon!" Enzo ordered. "Is anyone missing?"
They checked. Everyone was accounted for.
Enzo looked at the mystery ball in his hand. It was scratched, dusty, and felt heavy.
[ SYSTEM SCAN ]
[ POKÉMON PROFILE ]
Specimen: Krookodile
Level: 40
Potential: GREEN
Ability: Intimidate
Typing: Ground / Dark
Moves:
— Crunch (Dark)
— Earthquake (Ground)
— Stone Edge (Rock)
— Swagger (Normal)
Obs: "Territory alpha. Combat instincts high. Aggression triggered by intrusion."
Notes: "Energy management: wasteful. Relies on brute force and intimidation. Vulnerable to tempo disruption and controlled burst damage."
Enzo went pale.
"Big Red," he whispered.
It was the Boss. The Level 40 Alpha from the sealed cave back in the early days. The one that had almost killed them.
"How the hell..."
Enzo looked at the ball, then at his Corviknight, who was perching on a rock, looking strangely guilty.
Enzo (telepathy): Corviknight... what happened last night?
Corviknight shuffled its steel wings, avoiding eye contact. Its voice in Enzo's head sounded embarrassed.
Corviknight: Well, Master... you and the Poison-Human (Proton) started talking about the "Dinosaur" trapped in the cave.
Enzo (telepathy): And?
Corviknight: And the Loud-Human (Ronnie) started crying. He said it was sad that the Dinosaur was all alone in the dark. He said no one should be alone.
Enzo closed his eyes. Oh no.
Corviknight: So... you declared a "Rescue Mission." We flew to the sealed cave. You blew the entrance open.
Enzo (telepathy): ...Please tell me we didn't fight it.
Corviknight: We did. The Krookodile came out and tried to attack us. You got offended. You yelled "GET HIM, BOYS!"
The image of a drunken Enzo leading a mob beatdown flashed in his mind.
Corviknight: You threw the Gas-Ball (Weezing) first. You made him use Self-Destruct on its face. Then you ordered everyone to jump him at the same time. It was... 20 against 1, Master. It wasn't a battle…
Enzo stood there, frozen.
Corviknight: But the combat wasn't the difficult part, Master.
Enzo (telepathy): ...What was?
Corviknight: The capture. Your aim was... You threw nineteen Poké Balls at rocks, bushes, and once at Loud-Human's (Ronnie) leg, before you finally hit the Krookodile on the twentieth try.
Enzo rubbed his temples. He had gang-beaten a Level 40 Alpha while black-out drunk, and then spent a small fortune in failed Poké Balls trying to hit a stationary target.
Enzo (telepathy): ...Okay. Good job.
Enzo put the ball deep into his bag.
He turned to Proton and Ronnie.
Enzo put the ball deep into his bag, masking his internal panic with a look of absolute neutrality.
He turned to Proton.
Proton was staring at the bag, his eyes unfocused as a memory fought its way through the alcohol haze. He rubbed the back of his neck, wincing.
"Boss," Proton whispered, his voice cracking. "Why does my jaw hurt? And why do I have a vague memory of... biting a crocodile?"
Enzo looked him dead in the eye.
"Because you did," Enzo said flatly. "While Ronnie held its tail."
Proton turned pale. The image of the "Rescue Mission" suddenly clicked into place. The explosion. The mob beating. The sheer stupidity of engaging a Level 40 Alpha while drunk.
"That..." Proton pointed a trembling finger at Enzo's bag. "That was real? We actually caught the Cave Boss?"
"We didn't just catch him," Enzo corrected, adjusting his coat. "We mugged him."
Proton opened his mouth to ask more—probably about survival rates—but Enzo raised a hand.
"Don't ask," Enzo ordered. "And never speak of this again. As far as history is concerned, this was a calculated, high-level capture operation. Not a drunken brawl."
Proton swallowed hard, looked at the bag with newfound terror, and nodded slowly.
"Calculated. Got it."
"Good," Enzo said. "Now clean up this trash. The ship arrives in three days."
Ronnie, oblivious and holding his head, groaned. "Does anyone have water? I think my brain is trying to use Self-Destruct."