Chapter 27: Chapter no.27 I am only Human.
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Arianna's lips curled into a sly smile as she observed the Spearow make its daring dive towards the secluded body of water nestled within the mountain's embrace. The watering hole, a known haven for the local rock-type Pokémon, seemed an unlikely place for a bird Pokémon to seek refuge.
"Didn't want to go back to your trainer, or is that watering hole where your trainer is hiding?"
Her gaze remained fixed on the bird's descent, pondering the possibilities. With a practiced motion, Arianna reached for her Pokéball, her fingers closing around it with a familiarity born of many battles. With a flick of her wrist, she released her Pokémon.
The Pokéball opened, unleashing a dark-blue avian Pokémon whose plumage seemed to emulate the attire of a person dressed for power, akin to a mob boss. Honchkrow emerged with a large feather crest resembling a fedora hat, and spikes extending from its back, giving it an air of untouchable authority. Its sharp, circular red eyes scanned the terrain, a predator surveying its domain.
"Hunt your prey," Arianna commanded, her voice sharp, a snap of her fingers. Her red hair fluttered in the mountain wind.
Honchkrow responded with a swift ascent, its powerful wings slicing through the air as it made its way towards the watering hole with a purpose that was both terrifying and awe-inspiring. As the big boss Pokémon arrived and circled the area, it exuded an aura of control, its keen eyes searching for any sign of disturbance in the serene waters below. The water, however, remained eerily calm, undisturbed and devoid of the usual signs of aquatic or avian life. No ripples, no splashes, no fleeing Pokémon. The watering hole was a picture of deceptive tranquility.
The big boss Pokémon expanded its search, circling wider, but to no avail. It was as if the Spearow had simply vanished into thin air.
After several fruitless moments, Honchkrow returned to its trainer, its mission unfulfilled. The Pokémon's failure to locate its target didn't seem to shake Arianna's composure; her face remained a mask of calm calculation, as if already devising the next move in this high-stakes game of hide and seek.
Meanwhile, concealed in the shadows just below the surface of the water, camouflaged perfectly beneath a rocky ledge, a pair of eyes watched silently.
As the evening darkness began to envelope the mountain, a tiny bubble of water subtly emerged at the edge of the pond, breaking the surface tension with a gentle pop. Austin felt the solid ground beneath him, his grip on two Pokéballs so intense that his fingers had numbed, visible in the white of his knuckles and the tension in his forearms.
Thankfully, Austin and Vee were closer to the lake compared to Arianna, which gave them a crucial advantage. Austin had arrived at the lake on his bike, timing it just as Spearow appeared. This serendipitous timing allowed him to quickly recall both Pikachu and Spearow into their Pokéballs, ensuring their safety in a swift, fluid motion. With his Pokémon secured, Austin didn't hesitate; he plunged into the lake.
Vee had cleverly maintained a protective bubble around Austin's head, utilizing his unique ability to manipulate water to create an air pocket. This not only allowed Austin to breathe underwater but also obscured his face from view, effectively rendering him invisible to any prying eyes from above.
Emerging soaked from the cold, clear water of the lake, Austin felt the weight of his waterlogged clothes pulling against him as he moved. meanwhile the small, brown-furred Pokémon quickly dashed over to retrieve the bike.
As evening transitioned into night, Austin paused to catch his breath and assess their surroundings. He lifted his gaze to the sky, witnessing the natural canvas morph into a blend of purple and orange hues.
They soon found a large rock formation that seemed almost designed for concealment. The boulders were stacked in a staggered manner, creating a natural alcove that effectively shielded them from any casual observation. Moss and small shrubs adorned the rocks, helping to blend the structure seamlessly into the landscape. It was a perfect hideout, sculpted by nature itself.
Thank you, protagonist luck. This is perfect, Austin thought.
He spread a blanket on the ground, creating a makeshift resting area, and quickly released Spearow from its Pokéball. The Flying-type Pokémon appeared tired but not gravely injured; a bit of health potion, some water, and rest would suffice for its recovery.
However, when he turned his attention to Pikachu, Austin's heart sank. The sight of Pikachu's body, crisscrossed with deep cuts that were still bleeding, hit him like a physical blow. The metallic tang of blood filled the air. As Austin gently pressed his palm against the worst of the injuries to assess the damage, the warmth and wetness of the blood against his skin brought a surge of emotions.
"Eevee," called the Evolution Pokémon, its voice cutting through the tense silence, pulling Austin from his shock-induced trance. Shaking his head to clear it, Austin focused on the urgent task at hand.
He meticulously cleaned each of Pikachu's wounds, using alcohol to disinfect them—a procedure that would have been excruciatingly painful had Pikachu been conscious. Tears welled up in Austin's eyes as he continued. He sniffled quietly, trying to maintain composure, but the sight of Pikachu, so vulnerable and in pain, broke through his defenses. Struggling to steady his voice, Austin whispered words of encouragement to his unconscious friend. "Hang in there, buddy. I've got you."
After ensuring all the cuts were properly disinfected, he applied a healing potion to help accelerate the recovery process. He then crushed some Lum Berries into a paste, known for their healing properties, and gently applied it to the deeper cuts.
As he treated each wound, Austin applied pressure to stem the bleeding, his hands shaking slightly.
Austin carefully adjusted the last of the bandages around Pikachu, his hands steady despite the emotional turmoil that had gripped him moments before. He took a deep breath, letting the cool mountain air fill his lungs and steady his nerves.
Thank God I took Nurse Joy's first aid courses, he reflected gratefully. His earlier paranoia had driven him to learn whatever he could to protect himself and his Pokémon—a decision that was paying off now when it mattered most.
Austin gently scratched Eevee's fur collar, the tender gesture was as much for his own comfort as it was for Eevee's. Eevee looked up at him, his eyes reflecting the exhaustion of the day's efforts—from powering up Pikachu with Helping Hand, maintaining his Vaporeon form, to now acting as their vigilant bodyguard.
"Rest up, buddy."
Eevee shook his head slightly.
"Don't worry, night is going to come soon. We'll hide, and then Team Rocket is going to pay for this," Austin declared, his tone laced with venom. Eevee took a small step back, startled by the fierceness in Austin's eyes. His reaction made Austin pause—was I becoming too consumed by my anger?
"Do you not want to face Team Rocket?"
Eevee shook his head, his expression flickering with uncertainty. It was clear he felt the fear too—the fear that perhaps they would die.
"How long are you going to remain in fear?" Austin pressed, his voice rising with intensity. "How long are you going to run and hide?" He stared down at Eevee, his posture rigid, feeling the weight of his own words pressing down on him.
Vee was shivering, and that made Austin pause, his heart skipping a beat. The tremors running through his loyal companion were subtle but unmistakable, a clear sign of the fear Vee was trying so hard to hide. Austin's chest tightened, guilt creeping into the spaces where his anger had burned so brightly moments before.
He knelt down, his hand hovering over Vee's trembling form, hesitant for a moment.
He was pushing Eevee, maybe too hard. The sight of Pikachu, so wounded and vulnerable, lay heavy on his heart, and his words to Eevee, though meant to motivate, were also a vent for his own frustrations, his own fears.
Austin wanted to fight back—not just for Pikachu, but for all of them. It was illogical, maybe even reckless, and perhaps succumbing to fear would keep them safer in the short term. But the human part of him—the emotional, visceral part—couldn't stand the thought of not taking revenge against those who had hurt his Pokémon.
Vee hesitated, Austin's words resonating within him. He too had found a family, a home worth fighting for after escaping the clutches of those monsters. His gaze met Austin's, filled with a complex mix of fear, determination, and trust.
The Evolution Pokémon placed his paw on Austin's foot, nodding with a look of pure resolve, as if to say, What's the next plan? His gesture broke through Austin's momentary doubt, reaffirming their shared desire for revenge.
Austin knelt down, bringing his face closer to Vee's, whispering, "Let's destroy Team Rocket."
Under the cloak of night, a Team Rocket grunt patrolled the dense, shadowy forest, his flashlight casting eerie shadows among the twisted trees. The beam jittered across the underbrush as he trudged forward, his boots squelching softly in the moist earth. Suddenly, his foot splashed into a puddle, the sound sharp in the quiet of the night.
A rustling noise from the bushes startled him, and he swung his flashlight toward the disturbance. A Rattata, its eyes glinting in the artificial light, darted into the undergrowth. Before he could recover from the surprise, another sound whipped his attention around to see a more unsettling sight—a boy wearing a paper bag over his head standing ominously a few feet away.
The grunt screamed, stumbling backward in panic, his feet slipping as he scrambled to regain his footing inside the puddle.
Did it get bigger?
In his frantic state, he reached for his Pokéball, but before he could react further, the puddle beneath him seemed to explode. The surface tension popped dramatically, and suddenly he was plunging neck-deep into a newly formed sinkhole. The water around him churned violently, pulling him downward. Terror paralyzed him as the icy water's grip rendered him unable to move, swirling and tugging at his limbs with horrifying force.
Above him, the paper-bag-wearing boy loomed, a taser gun pointed directly at the grunt's trembling Team Rocket comrades.
"Can't move in these treacherous waters, can you?" Bag Boy began, his voice unnervingly calm. "Let me paint a picture for your soon-to-be-overwhelmed mind. When I point this taser at your drenched and vulnerable form, do you know what will happen? The electric current will find its eager path through the water, invading your body with ruthless efficiency. It will surge through your nervous system, seize control of your muscles, and dance perilously close to your heart. Tell me—what will you feel in those final moments? Fear? Anger? Or perhaps the exquisite agony of pain?"
"Please, spare me—I have a sick mother to take care of!" the grunt begged, his words tumbling out in a frantic, breathless rush. Fear flickered in his wide eyes, raw and palpable, as his body trembled uncontrollably while the cold water lapped against his chin.
"As long as you do what I tell you," Austin replied coolly.
"Anything," the grunt gasped.
"Good. Now tell me, how much of Mt. Moon and its ranges have been captured by Team Rocket?"
"We have seized the trail and the border on the backside," the grunt replied, his voice shaking.
"How many executives are currently on Mt. Moon?"
"Only one," he managed to say between ragged breaths.
"Good. What have you done with the rangers and any of the trainers coming here?" Austin continued, his questions precise, each one like a knife cutting through the grunt's resolve.
"They have been captured, put into cages while their Pokémon were collected. Some grunts are impersonating the rangers to trick the ranger's office," the grunt revealed, his words heavy with the gravity of what he'd admitted.
Austin wasn't surprised they had fooled the Rangers' office; what caught him off guard was their apparent leniency.
"Not killed?" he asked, a hint of disbelief in his tone.
"Team Rocket has a no-kill rule," the grunt stammered.
"Bullshit," Austin spat, remembering the cold murder of the Beedrills by Sird. He pressed the taser harder against the grunt's skin. "Tell me the truth."
"I am telling you the truth! This was the one rule beaten into the mind of every grunt: you must not kill another human," the grunt replied, tears welling in his eyes as his body trembled.
Austin paused, processing the information. Giovanni isn't benevolent enough to institute a no-kill rule without reason, he thought. Then it clicked—the kind of trouble Giovanni would avoid at all costs would be the Elite Four and the Champion. The escalation to murder would surely draw their attention, forcing the Pokémon League to act with far more direct measures when Human life was the line.
"Last question," Austin said, his voice soft but menacing. "What Pokémon do you have?"
"An Ekans and a Zubat."
"Good... No, great even. I was looking for a Zubat," Austin said, eyeing the grunt warily.
"Are you going to steal my Pokémon?"
"Pot calling the kettle black?" Austin retorted, pulling out his Pokédex and activating the recorder function. "Now, you're going to do a simple recording for your Pokémon, telling them that I'm someone who can be trusted and your friend."
"Why?" the grunt asked, his fear mounting again.
"Do you need more reasons?" Austin pressed the taser closer. After a few reluctant attempts, the grunt complied, and Austin was satisfied with the recording.
"Are you going to let me go?"
"Of course, I'm going to let you go, and you can fly off to wonderland with Peter Pan," Austin replied sarcastically, confusing the grunt further. "No, I'm going to beat you unconscious, then strip you of your clothes and pretend to be you as I eliminate Team Rocket from this entire place."
"W-what?" the grunt stammered, just as Austin took a step to the side, revealing Rattata poised, her iron tail glowing.
In that moment, the grunt realized he had been the prey from the start.
"Fuck," was his final thought before Rattata's iron tail swung forward, sending him into the dark void of unconsciousness.