Two days before the extraction. The hangover had finally faded, replaced by the cold clarity of the deadline.
Enzo sat on the highest rock of the plateau, overlooking the wasteland they had conquered. Proton and Ronnie stood nearby, cleaning their gear. The wind was still, as if the island itself was holding its breath, waiting for them to leave.
Enzo commanded the system. "Project status. Full team audit."
A holographic projection expanded in the air.
Enzo scanned the rows.
[ TEAM LAMBDA — ASSET SUMMARY ]
>> SQUAD LEADER: ENZO
Corviknight (Lv 38 | DEEP BLUE)
Houndoom (Lv 35 | DEEP BLUE)
Krokorok (Lv 36 | DEEP GREEN)
Weezing (Lv 35 | RED)
Deino (Lv 5 | BLUE)
Haunter (Lv 36 | BLUE)
Porygon2 (Lv 30 | DEEP GREEN)
>> Capitan: PROTON
Crobat (Lv 36 | LIGHT BLUE)
Grimer (Lv 36 | LIGHT BLUE)
Koffing ♀ (Lv 32 | LIGHT GREEN)
>> Vice-capitan: RONNIE
Onix (Lv 29 | GREEN)
Fearow (Lv 30 | GREEN)
Enzo closed the interface with a mental command. The blue text vanished, leaving only the grim reality of the North.
He looked at his two companions.
"Look at us," Enzo said quietly, drawing their attention. "Most recruits are leaving this island with a Level 20 Raticate and trauma. We are leaving with a strike force."
Ronnie puffed out his chest, grinning. "We're going to crush the Exam, Boss."
Enzo stood up and dusted off his coat.
"We will," Enzo agreed. "But before we start the final training..."
He pulled his TR Device from his pocket.
"...I have a very lucrative phone call to make."
Enzo glanced at Proton.
Proton's lips curled into a knowing, sharp smile. He remembered the drunken "Rescue Mission." He knew exactly what Enzo intended to sell.
"Let's see if Viper has deep pockets," Enzo said.
Enzo picked up his TR Device and dialed a secure number.
It rang twice.
Then, a voice answered—sharp, irritated, and dripping with sarcasm.
Enzo picked up his TR Device and dialed a secure number.
It rang twice.
Then, a voice answered—sharp, irritated, and dripping with sarcasm.
"What is it now, Rank One?" Instructor Viper snapped. "Don't tell me my island has turned into a vacation resort, and I didn't know about it? Thirty bottles, Enzo? Do you think this is a nightclub?"
Enzo didn't flinch. He leaned back against the rock, his voice smooth and completely unapologetic.
"Calm down, Instructor. You received the payment notification last night. 19,800 RP, paid in full."
"That's not the point," Viper grumbled, though the mention of the money softened his anger. "I'm running a survival trial, not a catering service."
"And survival requires balance," Enzo lied effortlessly. "Consider it a calculated morale calibration. A chemical reset before the final stage. Everything I do has a purpose."
Viper scoffed on the other end. "Call it whatever you want. Just don't ask for a refill."
"I'm not calling to buy," Enzo said, shifting his tone to pure business. "I'm calling to sell."
"Sell what? I have enough Raticate skins to pave a road."
"I want to know," Enzo continued, "how much the instructor is willing to pay for a Krookodile. Level 40. Green Potential."
Silence stretched over the line.
The wind whistled in the background.
"Enzo," Viper's voice dropped an octave. "If this is another part of your 'chemical reset,' call me later. Nobody catches a Level 40 at this stage."
"My sobriety is at one hundred percent, sir," Enzo said calmly. "The asset is in the Poké Ball. I want a price."
Enzo could practically hear the gears turning in Viper's head. A Level 40 Krookodile was fully evolved. Combat-ready. High aggression. It could be sold to a mid-level grunt or used for base security. It was worth a fortune.
"If it's real..." Viper calculated. "And if it's healthy..."
"It has some bruising," Enzo admitted. "But it is fully functional."
"100,000 RP," Viper said.
Ronnie choked on his own spit in the background.
Enzo didn't blink. It was enough to recover the fortune they spent on drinks and still leave a massive profit.
"Deal," Enzo said. "Send a collection agent."
An hour later, a terrified Material Grunt climbed up the ravine path. He looked like he expected to be murdered by the "Ghost of the North" at any moment.
Enzo met him at the perimeter. He handed over the scratched Poké Ball containing "Big Red."
The grunt scanned it. His eyes widened as the Level 40 stats popped up. He quickly stored it in a secure case.
"The credits have been transferred," the grunt stammered.
"Good," Enzo said, turning to leave.
"Wait," the grunt whispered, looking around to make sure no one else was listening. "Instructor Viper... he told me to tell you something. As a 'bonus' for the business."
Enzo stopped. "Go on."
"The official departure time is listed as 06:00 AM on Day 100," the grunt said quickly. "But the ship doesn't actually open its doors until 08:30 AM. Viper said: 'Don't stand in line with the idiots.'"
Enzo smiled.
"Thank you."
The grunt scrambled back down the rocks.
Enzo turned to his team. "We just saved two and a half hours of standing in the sun. We sleep in on the final day."
Day 100.
The sun rose over Trial Island one last time.
The Lambda Unit didn't rush. They ate a proper breakfast. They cleaned their campsite until not a single trace of their presence remained—no trash, no fire pits, no evidence. Just bare rock.
"We came here as trash," Enzo said, adjusting his coat.
He looked at Ronnie, who used to clean latrines. He looked at Proton, who had once been an invisible nobody.
"We leave as strong trainers."
They descended the mountain.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Location: Central Base (The Docks)
The scene at the base was pure chaos.
Hundreds of surviving recruits had been lined up since dawn. They were dirty, exhausted, starving, and on edge. The smell of unwashed bodies and fear was overwhelming. Instructors were shouting, pushing people into lines, checking IDs with agonizing slowness.
It was 08:25 AM.
"I've been standing here for three hours," one boy complained, nursing a bandaged arm. "My legs are killing me."
"Shut up," another hissed. "Just get on the damned ship."
Suddenly, the ground shook.
It wasn't a subtle tremor. It was a heavy, rhythmic thud. BOOM.
The lines stopped moving. Silence settled over the docks, broken only by the sound of snapping wood.
BOOM. BOOM.
It was coming from the dense forest to the north of the base. The tall trees, which formed a natural barrier, began to sway violently. Birds took flight in panic, screaming.
"What is that?" someone whispered.
Then, the tree line simply exploded.
There was no warning. A hundred-year-old oak tree was snapped in half like a dry twig. Vegetation was crushed, shredded, and thrown into the air in a cloud of dust and debris.
From the midst of the destruction, a massive stone head emerged.
An Onix.
But it wasn't slithering stealthily. It was rising high, gliding over the forest like a living bulldozer, crushing everything in its path without even slowing down.
And on top of the stone serpent's head, three meters above the ground, stood three figures.
They didn't look worried about their balance.
Enzo stood in the center, arms crossed, his coat flapping in the wind generated by the beast's movement. To his right, Proton, with a sharp smile, was idly cleaning a knife. To his left, Ronnie, the master of the beast, had his hands on his hips, laughing at the terrified faces of the crowd.
They were riding the destruction like a royal chariot.
The Onix stopped just meters from the mass of recruits, kicking up a final cloud of dust that coated the shoes of those in the front row.
There was a moment of absolute silence. No one dared to breathe.
Then, in a synchronized movement, the three figures jumped.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
They landed on the ground with the lightness of gravity defiance.
"Good job, big guy," Ronnie said, pointing his Poké Ball.
A red beam swallowed the giant snake, making it vanish and leaving behind only a trail of destroyed forest that looked like a newly opened highway.
Enzo adjusted his collar. He didn't look at the destruction behind him. He looked forward.
"Let's go," Enzo said.
They started walking.
There was no need to say "excuse me." The sea of recruits parted instantly. No one wanted to be in the path of those three people.
Janine narrowed her eyes. She ignored the murmurs of the crowd and focused on the boy in the lead. She saw the calm arrogance in his shoulders. She saw the latent violence in his hands. Most recruits walked up that ramp hoping to survive the journey. These three walked as if they owned the ship.
"The Ghost," someone whispered, voice trembling.
Enzo walked straight down the human corridor that had formed, ignoring the glares of hatred and envy from the recruits who had been waiting since 6 AM.
He walked up the boarding ramp exactly as the heavy steel doors of the ship began to creak open.
08:30 AM.
Perfect timing.
The boarding officer looked at Enzo. He opened his mouth to send him to the back of the line, then looked at the trail of destroyed trees, at the dust settling on the boy's shoulders, and at the ID that flashed on the screen: Rank #1.
The officer swallowed hard.
"ID confirmed," the officer muttered. "Proceed."
Enzo didn't look back. The hollow clang of his boots on the metal ramp sounded like the final bell of Judgment.
The ship was massive, a steel beast designed to transport armies, not passengers.
As the engines roared to life, vibrating through the deck, Enzo stood at the stern rail.
The island drifted away. The rocky spires, the ravines, the forests where they had bled and killed—it all shrank into a silhouette against the sun.
"We survived," Ronnie whispered, looking at the receding island.
"We did more than survive," Proton corrected.
Enzo turned away from the island. He looked toward the horizon.