Chapter 19: The Trap is Sprung
No one outside of Giovanni's chosen few knew of his ability to help hatch Pokémon.
In this competition, kindness was a weakness. Most recruits would rather watch an opponent fail; one less competitor meant a higher chance of their own survival. Giovanni had anticipated this, and it had worked to his advantage.
In the blink of an eye, the final day arrived.
After Giovanni and Weedle finished their breakfast, the doorbell rang a second time. He tidied his clothes, recalled Weedle, and opened the door. The grunt sent to gather the survivors was a familiar face.
"Sir," Giovanni said with a slight smile. "What a coincidence."
The grunt shook his head. "No coincidence. I swapped posts with someone so I could be the one to notify you."
"We're not that close, are we?" Giovanni asked, his eyes probing.
The grunt ignored the question. "How are you going to deal with Musashi's gang? You can't take them all on by yourself, can you?"
Giovanni locked his door and started down the hall. "I have a way. What, do you have no confidence in me?"
The grunt fell into step behind him. He could already sense that the end for Musashi's group was near. "I believe you do. I'm just curious to see how."
"Just watch," Giovanni said calmly.
Along the way, they gathered the other survivors. Those who had hatched their Pokémon were relaxed, while those who had failed were consumed by fear, locked in their rooms, refusing to come out.
They knew that leaving their rooms meant death. For some, more than ten days of intense stress had finally broken them. With maddened cries of "Why won't you hatch?!", they smashed their incubators against the walls.
It didn't matter— a specialized team of Rocket grunts moved from door to door, easily overriding the locks. They entered with their impatient, hungry Pokémon.
A series of shrill screams followed. The grunts would emerge moments later, their hands empty, their Pokémon looking satisfied. Giovanni didn't know what happened to the bodies— likely fed to the Pokémon. Destroying evidence was a common tactic for an organization like this.
The survivors who witnessed this scene felt a new wave of terror. They never knew when they might be next. A timid girl began to sob quietly. Giovanni, however, remained completely unperturbed.
"They're all terrified," the grunt noted. "Why aren't you?"
"Because they were always destined to die," Giovanni answered without turning his head. "And I am not. I will be the sole victor." His voice was so confident, so absolute, that the grunt felt a chill.
They didn't encounter Musashi on the way, but they saw Katsu and the others Giovanni had helped. No words were exchanged, but a sense of urgency hung in the air— a confrontation was imminent.
Musashi was an expert at exploiting loopholes, and Giovanni understood the rules perfectly. The ban on infighting was for the fourteen-day training period. That period was now over.
Miyamoto and Madame Boss were nowhere to be seen. The grunts on duty stood at the edges of the room, clearly instructed not to interfere.
The once-crowded chamber now held just over a hundred recruits, making the space feel vast and empty. Giovanni stood at the back, but soon, a dozen pairs of malicious eyes turned towards him. He knew who it was without looking.
The crowd parted as Musashi's gang approached, their Pokémon already out and snarling. They swaggered forward like a pack of hyenas. Their numbers were smaller now; it seemed a few of them had failed to hatch their Pokémon after all.
Giovanni calmly pressed the button on his Poké Ball. With a flash of light, Weedle appeared, its small eyes already burning with intense fighting spirit. The onlookers cleared a wide space, wondering if a fight would really break out.
They didn't have to wait long. "Go," Giovanni commanded. "Poison Sting."
Weedle was decisive, launching a volley of purplish-black needles straight at Musashi's group.
"I knew you'd try that, you treacherous snake!" Musashi had been on guard. The moment Weedle moved, he yelled, "Attack! Charmander, use Ember!"
His followers shouted their own commands. "Pidgey, Peck! Caterpie, String Shot! Ekans, Poison Sting!"
A dozen Pokémon attacked at once. Having prepared, they managed to block the initial volley. Giovanni had expected this. In the early stages, the power difference between Pokémon was minimal.
"Stumped, are you?" Musashi shrieked. "This time, let's see how you die!"
Giovanni just looked at his furious face and sneered. "Trash."
The insult made Musashi's scalp tingle with rage. "All of you, go! I want to see how long he can keep up this act!"
"Are we comparing numbers?" Giovanni said, a cold smirk on his face. He raised a hand. "Now! Take them down, and your debt is paid. Fail me, and know that I am a very vengeful person."
As his threatening words faded, the sound of more than twenty Poké Balls opening at once echoed through the chamber.
Under the astonished gazes of Musashi's gang, Katsu, his Machop at his side, stepped out from the crowd. And behind him, the recruits Giovanni had saved followed, their own Pokémon ready for battle.