The arena fell deathly silent.
The handsome young man stood at the center, his smile warm as sunlight—yet his words sent a chill through Rustboro's ranks.
"What... what did he just say?" Shiozaki whispered, paling.
Was he seriously suggesting he could solo their entire faculty?!
Ginji adjusted his glasses, silent.
This was just some rookie instructor.
Even with legendary leadership skills, that didn't equate to personal battle prowess.
And compared to facing Kanto's Erika… this was still the better option.
"I'll go first."
Ginji pushed up his glasses. "Let's see what this Natsume-sensei is made of."
The crowd erupted.
After the students' domination, they craved higher-stakes combat—especially against the man behind Celadon's unstoppable streak.
If Rustboro didn't fight back now, this tournament would become Natsume's one-man show!
"Can he actually win?"
"Teaching skill doesn't mean battle strength!"
"Did you hear his tone? That's not arrogance—that's confidence!"
Natsume blinked at the murmurs.
...Was I being cocky?
I was just being polite!
"Relax. Just here to slack off anyway."
He glanced at the Luxury Ball in his hand.
Togepi was too young for this.
Alright, mutt—you're up!
The cheers intensified, but Celadon's staff wore frowns.
After their students' flawless performance, if Natsume faltered now, he'd become a laughingstock!
"I should've gone," Akatsuki muttered. "No need for sensei to risk this."
Kanon shook her head firmly.
Her past conversations with Erika flashed through her mind—whispers about Natsume's true capabilities.
If those rumors were true…
His strength might eclipse even Senior Erika's.
"Watch closely," Kanon said. "This could be... a historic battle."
Giselle bit her lip, eyeing her unfazed seniors. "Aren't you two nervous at all?!"
"Why would we be?" Wally tilted his head.
Gladion snorted. "As sensei puts it—"
"Since when do we sweat Baby Cup?"
Under the crowd's breathless gaze, the duel began.
Ginji gave a stiff nod. "I look forward to your guidance."
"Likewise." Natsume smiled.
"BEGIN!" the referee roared.
Poké Balls flashed.
On Natsume's side, a golden-maned Arcanine emerged, its lion-like muzzle pulling into a vicious grin as it shook out blazing fur.
"ARRR-CANINE!"
The deafening roar rattled the stands.
Majestic and lethal, the Fire-type stood as the perfect counterpart to its unshakable trainer.
Opposite it, a serpentine Seviper uncoiled, crimson eyes glinting as venom dripped from its blade-like fangs.
One strike from its tail could drop an elephant in seconds.
The audience held their breath.
"Seviper—Toxic!" Ginji ordered.
The viper struck like lightning, spewing a corrosive purple mist.
But Arcanine burst through the haze wreathed in flames, evading the poison entirely.
Predicting the move and countering with Flame Charge?!
Natsume tsked. "Toxic? Really?"
Point-blank. Fire Blast.
Arcanine lunged, jaws blazing.
Ginji's eyes widened at the near-instant command speed but reacted swiftly.
"Coil!"
Though it wouldn't boost special defense, tightening its coils reduced damage areas—while powering up its counterattack!
Seviper curled defensively…
Then froze in terror as superheated air warped around it.
BOOM.
The explosion left the viper's belly charred, barely clinging to consciousness.
"Toxic!" Ginji rasped.
Still a chance!
After Coil, the attack couldn't miss—
Snap.
Natsume's fingers clicked. A green barrier shimmered around Arcanine.
The venom harmlessly splattered against Protect.
Roxanne's nails dug into her palms.
Every one of Ginji's strategies had been anticipated and turned against him.
This wasn't a battle—it was domination.
And that Arcanine wasn't even fighting seriously yet.
"So this…" she breathed.
This was why facing him was worse than Erika.
Natsume crossed his arms.
Sure, I'm slacking.
But Toxic? That's just disrespectful.
"Have fun," he told Arcanine.
The Arcanine howled and charged like a battering ram.
THUD.
"Seviper is unable to battle!"
Ginji recalled his Pokémon, jaw clenched.
The pressure from Natsume dwarfed anything he'd faced in Hoenn's championships.
But type advantage wasn't so easily overcome.
"Empoleon—go!"
The steel-winged emperor penguin emerged, its gaze imperious.
"Water-type starter Empoleon!" the commentator cried. "Arcanine's at a severe disadvantage!"
"Not just that," the analyst added. "Rare Ability: Defiant. After Arcanine's Intimidate, its attack rises instead."
Ginji smirked. This was his counterplay.
"Aqua Jet!"
Empoleon's blades glowed as it launched twin pressurized slashes—
—only for Arcanine to shrug them off like drizzle.
The crowd gasped.
How?!
That should've hurt!
Then Roxanne noticed it—crackling electricity wreathed around Arcanine's form.
Wild Charge?! Since when—
CRACK-BOOM!
Empoleon flew backward, skidding across the field, wings smoking.
One hit.
One knockout.
The commentator's voice cracked. "A-Arcanine's Wild Charge OHKOs Empoleon!"
The analyst's face turned tomato-red.
The stands exploded.
"HOLY SHIT!"
"Now that's a mentor!"
"Can he sweep the faculty too?!"
This wasn't just a match—it was a stomp.
By a rookie instructor.
Against veteran teachers.
Principal Dervish, watching the stream, nearly short-circuited.
"Buy new training gear," he barked into the phone. "Top-tier. Now."
Ginji's hands shook as he recalled Empoleon.
Outplayed in strategy. Outmatched in raw power.
Even against Erika, he'd never felt so helpless.
What kind of monster did Celadon dig up?!
Roxanne watched Arcanine's rampage, exasperated.
Friendly match?
Next year, they were skipping this "cultural exchange."
Final score: 3-0.
Akatsuki and Kanon slowly accepted reality.
A general's strength reflects his troops… and vice versa.
Gladion smirked at Giselle. "That's Baby Cup."
Wally added softly, "Sensei might… stay on the field."
Continue?!
Giselle's head snapped up—
—just as Natsume cleared his throat in the silent arena.
"Anyone else?"
Next round, he mused, I'll definitely throw.
To Roxanne, he might as well have been Oda Nobunaga himself—the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven—standing atop a mountain of victories, casually asking:
"Who's next?"
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