Chapter 16: The Confrontation
The moment Musashi saw Giovanni, he tilted his chin up, pure arrogance on his face. When his eyes fell on Weedle, they flashed with disdain and a lingering resentment. He still hadn't forgiven it for the humiliation it had dealt him. His Charmander, trotting at his side, seemed to share its master's personality—arrogant and utterly punchable.
Behind Musashi stood a gang of nearly twenty recruits, all with their own newly hatched Pokémon. It was clear that Musashi had used his prized starter to recruit followers, building the largest faction among the survivors— but their alliance was fragile, built on fear and opportunity. A single threat or a shift in power could make them turn on each other in an instant.
As they strode into the training area, the other recruits immediately scattered, wanting nothing to do with the impending conflict. Everyone present had witnessed the initial feud between Giovanni and Musashi. They all looked at Giovanni and his Weedle with pity. They knew this was coming.
The commotion was not small. Not only Giovanni, but even the burly youth still running laps on the track, noticed their arrival.
Giovanni's face darkened— a flicker of killing intent flashed in his eyes.
"Stop, Weedle," he said, his voice low. "Trouble's here."
Weedle immediately halted, its gaze following to Musashi's approaching gang. It remembered these annoying humans. If my poison had been stronger then, this wouldn't be happening— a fierce, murderous aura began to emanate from its tiny body, causing the recruits nearby to stifle in laughter.
Soon, Musashi and his gang stood before them. "Well, well," Musashi sneered. "Look who it is. I was starting to think you'd turned into a coward and were hiding in your room."
"You?" Giovanni replied coldly. "You're not important enough for me to hide from."
Since they had already fallen out, Musashi dropped all pretense. "Your tongue is still as glib as ever. Let's see if your bones are just as hard." As he spoke, his Charmander let out a challenging roar at Weedle. The other Pokémon in the gang followed suit, their cries echoing in the chamber. The atmosphere was explosive.
Giovanni and Weedle simply stared back, their own killing intent blooming like a toxic flower. "Are you daring to make a move?" Giovanni challenged.
Musashi laughed. "We know the rules. We can't kill you. But crippling you and that pathetic bug? That's perfectly fine."
Giovanni understood. Musashi's gang must have done this before. He glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw the Team Rocket grunts on duty. They had noticed the confrontation but were making no move to intervene. They won't step in unless it gets lethal, he realized.
In that case, he would force them to intervene.
"Weedle, Poison Sting," he commanded, his voice sharp and clear. "Aim for their Pokémon."
Ten days of training had forged a perfect bond between them. Before Giovanni's words had even finished, Weedle acted. A volley of poison needles shot from its horn, a torrential, deadly rain.
Giovanni's decisive, preemptive strike caught Musashi and his gang completely off guard. They had come to intimidate and bully him, but he had attacked first.
Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!
The needles found their marks. Cries of pain erupted from both humans and Pokémon as they were struck. Faces turned purple, and several collapsed to the ground, foaming at the mouth. If not for the sheer number of them, Weedle might have taken them all down in one go. As instructed, most of the needles had struck the Pokémon, injecting them with a larger dose of venom.
Musashi, by sheer luck, managed to dodge the attack, as did his Charmander. The few remaining members of his gang who were still standing stared in horror at their fallen comrades.
"You bastard!" Musashi shrieked. "You ambushed us! Go, Charmander! Show this bug the power of a real Pokémon!"
The ill-tempered Charmander needed no further encouragement. It charged, its fangs and claws bared.
Giovanni saw the Team Rocket grunts finally start to move. While Musashi was still shouting, he gave his next order. "Weedle, continuous Poison Sting. Don't let up."
There was no point in trying to land a decisive blow now. The goal was to create chaos.
Hiss! Hiss!
Streams of poison needles shot towards the charging Charmander.
"Dodge it, Charmander, quick!" Musashi screamed, his commands clumsy and panicked. The needles were too fast. The Charmander couldn't dodge them all. In a panic, it ignored its master and swiped its short claws wildly, trying to deflect the attack with Scratch. A few needles were knocked aside, but several more found their mark. The Charmander cried out in pain. Starter Pokémon were resilient, and it was still standing, but Musashi was heartbroken.
"Charmander!" he yelled, then turned to his terrified, cowering subordinates. "What are you standing there for?! Attack! It's just one Pokémon! Get him!"
Spurred by his rage, the remaining thugs sent their own Pokémon forward—a Pidgey, a Spearow, a Rattata, an Ekans, and a Caterpie. They themselves charged at Giovanni.
"Weedle, hold back," Giovanni whispered. "Just dodge. Don't get hurt."
Though confused, Weedle obeyed. As for Giovanni, he immediately covered his head and dropped to the ground. The thugs, thinking he was terrified, descended on him with glee, kicking and punching. Giovanni let out a series of convincing screams.
At that moment, the Team Rocket grunts finally arrived. A massive Arbok let out a piercing hiss.
"ENOUGH!" one of the grunts commanded.
The low-level Pokémon were immediately intimidated, freezing in their tracks. Even Weedle paused, though the defiance in its eyes burned like fire. The thugs beating Giovanni quickly stopped and backed away.
The lead grunt ordered his subordinates to administer antidotes to the poisoned recruits and their Pokémon. If any of these children died on their watch, there would be consequences. Fortunately, the antidote was administered in time. There were no fatalities.
When the dust settled, the scene was almost comical. On one side, nearly twenty recruits and their Pokémon lay sprawled on the ground, groaning and twitching from the poison. On the other side, Giovanni lay on the floor, bruised and curled into a ball, with a single, tiny Weedle standing protectively over him.
It was hard to tell who the real victim was.