Bottom Trainer II (Pokemon)

...

"Mr. Drayden, thank you very much, you absolute fucking legend."

Natsu stroked his Latios, who was currently snoozing with his head in Natsu's lap, looking more peaceful than a Snorlax after a buffet. Natsu thanked Drayden with all the sincerity of a trainer finally catching a Shiny Pokémon after fucking years of trying.

He'd originally just wanted his Latios to get a better read on himself through a brutal, no-holds-barred brawl with Drayden, to truly understand what a powerhouse he actually was.

He hadn't, however, expected his Latios to actually power up like a fucking Z-Move in the middle of the fight! What the unholy fuck?!

See, in Latios's previous state, if he wanted to hit Gym Leader level, it usually took over a week for the progress to even be noticeable, like trying to teach a Bidoof to fly – slow and steady, you know? A real pain in the ass.

But getting succes before a week? That's a damn good bonus, like finding a Max Revive in a trash can! Or maybe a Master Ball on your first try!

And that wasn't even the half of it, the goddamn glorious half.

His Latios also built more confidence than a Mega Rayquaza in a Double Battle, squaring off against Drayden's Dragon-type Pokémon. He was fucking fearless.

Plus, he totally digested all that Dragon-type energy that had been brewing in his body, like a Guzzlord at an all-you-can-eat buffet! Or a Munchlax devouring a pile of Sitrus Berries.

But the best part, the fucking cherry on top of this shit-sundae? Under all that pressure, Latios somehow managed to learn that devastating Dragon-type move, "Draco Meteor."

The gains from this one battle were more substantial than a Munchlax's appetite! It was a fucking miracle, honestly.

Drayden, the old grizzled Dragon-type master, looked at Latios, sighed like a Slaking on a Monday, and responded.

"Nah, if the raw talent and prior training weren't there, your Latios wouldn't have pulled off this kind of shit. All premises are based on your training, kid, and his own damn hard work," Drayden refuted, praising Natsu and his male Latios's relentless effort. The old bastard was humble, I'll give him that.

"But I still wish to express my sincere thanks for your assistance, you magnificent old man." Natsu insisted again.

This time, Drayden didn't argue. He probably knew a sincere compliment when he heard one, especially from a guy like Natsu.

Meanwhile, Iris, bless her cotton socks, was practically vibrating next to Parker, eyes blinking faster than a Butterfree's wings. She stared, utterly fascinated, at the exhausted, sleeping Latios.

This was the first fucking Legendary Dragon-type Pokémon she'd ever seen up close and personal. You could almost see the Dragon Dance energy pulsing through her tiny fucking veins!

"Iris, have you finished tidying the yard, you little hooligan?!"

Drayden glared at Iris with an expression so serious it could make a Mewtwo flinch. It was a terrifying sight, for fuck's sake.

Iris shrunk her neck back like a Squirtle retreating into its shell and blurted out, "I'm going back right now!" Then she bolted out of there like a Ninjask on a sugar rush, or a Drednaw snapping at your ass.

Even though Drayden looked like he could chew nails and spit out Poké Balls, Natsu saw a flicker of genuine admiration for Iris in his eyes. He was a softie for the kid, the damn old brute.

Iris had some serious innate talent, more than a Psyduck has headaches. And Drayden, the old softie, was clearly mentoring her. That's why that little firecracker was gonna become the Unova Region Champion at a disgustingly young age. She'd be kicking ass and taking names.

A true, bona fide, no-bullshit Dragon-type Champion.

"Alright, everyone else is gone now, so spill the fucking beans. What's on your mind?" After Drayden shooed away Iris and Parker, he got real serious with Natsu again.

Natsu pursed his lips.

After a moment of silence, he spoke. "So, uh, I got orders from the Alliance to do a mission here in the Unova Region, but I hit a few snags. I'm here to ask the Unova Alliance for some damn help."

With that, Natsu flashed his Gym Leader and Investigator ID cards. He probably had them laminated, the bastard.

Agatha had apparently sent word, but she couldn't guarantee shit. Not a single fucking thing.

The Unova Region is a different beast compared to Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh, which are all practically joined at the hip. Like a Diglett family.

And the Unova Region's organizational structure is a bit... off. Like a Ditto trying to imitate a legendary and failing spectacularly.

Gym Leaders here can also be mayors, which means they wield more power than a Rhyperior with a Choice Band. They're basically untouchable fucks.

As an old-timer Gym Leader in Unova, Drayden's got more influence in the Unova Alliance than a Celebi in a forest. So Natsu figured going through him might actually get something fucking done.

That was one of the big reasons he came to Drayden, not just for Latios to kick some ass. This whole thing was a calculated move, for fuck's sake.

Drayden glanced at Natsu's ID, but he didn't even bother to take it and inspect it. He probably knew it was legit just from the vibe. The old man was sharp as a Weavile's claw.

He didn't give a direct answer, because, let's face it, he probably didn't have the authority to just say "yes" right then and there. What a damn bureaucracy.

He just said, "Look, I'll try to get your request up the chain, but I can't promise any specific shit. The Alliance has its own damn problems to deal with, you know?"

"That's all I need," Natsu replied. The fucker was easy to please.

"However, I can help you get in touch with some other Gym Leaders. Should you find yourself in a particular city or its nearby area, they might be able to lend a hand if you're in a pinch," Drayden added, like a generous old Blissey handing out Lucky Eggs. A helpful bastard indeed.

Natsu's eyes lit up like a Voltorb exploding. He was thrilled, the goddamn mercenary.

That was more than enough. More than he'd fucking hoped for.

He wasn't expecting the Unova Alliance to send an Elite Four member or even a Champion anyway. That would be like asking a Mewtwo to do your chores. Absolutely fucking ridiculous.

Besides, if the Elite Four and the Champion got involved, some of Natsu's own sneaky plans would be screwed up. He couldn't have those motherfuckers breathing down his neck.

Natsu took off his hat and bowed slightly. "For the Alliance and for my teacher, I want to sincerely thank you again, sir."

Drayden waved his hand dismissively. He was too cool for school.

After a few more words, Natsu said his goodbyes and left.

But not before getting some juicy intel on the current state of the Unova Region from Drayden. The old man spilled the fucking beans.

Compared to Sinnoh and Kanto, power in Unova was more decentralized than a Wobbuffet in a maze. Gym Leaders weren't directly answering to the Elite Four. It was a fucking mess, honestly.

This was why, in the future, when Opelucid City got frozen by Team Plasma—and that's a whole other shit-show for later—only Drayden would be left holding the fort. The poor bastard.

Otherwise, Opelucid City is practically next door to the Unova Alliance headquarters.

The whole fucking city frozen solid, Drayden forced to hand over something as critical as the "DNA Splicers," and not a single Elite Four member showing their face from start to finish? That's an embarrassment worse than a Feebas trying to win a beauty contest. It's a goddamn travesty.

And another thing:

The reason Team Plasma could operate so openly and self-righteously in the Unova Region was because of some of Unova's policies. What a load of bullshit.

Even though the Unova Region had their eyes on Team Plasma, those sneaky bastards cleverly rebranded themselves as a religion. Like a Trubbish trying to pass itself off as a fashion accessory. It was a fucking joke.

And in Unova, religious activities aren't banned. So what happened? Team Plasma got stronger than a Conkeldurr on steroids, spreading their influence like a Gloom's stench. They were fucking everywhere.

This was, more or less, tied to the current status of Mr. Alder, the current Unova Region Champion. The motherfucker was just chillin'.

Oh, wait, Alder was actually only an Elite Four member right now. He hadn't reclaimed his Champion title yet. What a bummer.

So the Unova Region Champion spot was empty, and the Elite Four roster wasn't even full. It was a goddamn mess at the top.

That's why the Gym Leaders had so much fucking power. They were running the show, for fuck's sake.

In short, in Natsu's humble opinion, the Alliance in the Unova Region had a system looser than a Slaking's schedule. It was a fucking free-for-all.

...

...

...

"Melo~~"

After exiting the Opelucid Gym, Meloetta perched on Natsu's shoulder, holding her head high, as if she felt some kind of mystical beacon calling her, like a Shiny Pokémon calling to its trainer from across the damn region.

"What the hell's wrong, girl?" Natsu couldn't help but ask, sensing Meloetta's vibe.

"Mello."

Even though she looked a little sad, it was clear she had to go. A fucking shame, that.

Natsu froze for a second, but he didn't try to stop her. You can't chain a Mythical Pokémon, not unless you're a fucking idiot.

Dealing with Mythical Pokémon is like trying to catch a Mew with a Poké Ball – unless they decide to follow you on their own terms, you're not keeping them. It's a fucking waste of time.

Natsu had tried to catch her before, but his Poké Balls just bounced right off Meloetta. Like a Focus Sash on a Legendary. Absolutely fucking useless.

Maybe you needed some ancient, mythical Poké Ball or a special storage device to catch her. Some bullshit relic.

Or, like Giovanni, use some kind of special, probably fucked-up, tool.

But if he did that, Natsu worried he'd lose all the good favor he'd built up with Meloetta. And that would be a damn shame, a real fucking tragedy.

He couldn't resist pinching Meloetta's cheek again. The little rascal.

"Go on," Natsu said, then added, "If you ever wanna chill with us, you can come by anytime, you hear? Don't be a stranger, you bitch."

"Mello~"

Meloetta pouted her lips, then reached up, held Natsu's head, and gently pressed her forehead against his. A sweet gesture, for a fucking Mythical.

"And of course, if you ever require assistance, you can always count on me," Natsu added with a grin. "I'm your fucking huckleberry."

"Mello."

It took her a moment to finally pull away.

"Melo!"

Natsu saw a serious look on her face, like a Champion giving final instructions before a hell of a battle.

Meloetta then floated away from Natsu, gave a little wave, and vanished into thin air faster than a Diglett burrowing underground. Or a Shedinja disappearing after a Shadow Sneak.

Looking in the direction she went, Natsu paused, pondering for a bit. He was genuinely confused, the poor bastard.

With Meloetta's abilities and connections, unless it was some highly organized outfit like Team Rocket, even Team Plasma couldn't hope to catch her. She was a fucking ghost.

Natsu just had no fucking idea why Meloetta had to leave so suddenly. It was a baffling shit-show.

Shaking off the thought, he headed towards the black market in Opelucid City. Time to get down to some dirty fucking business.

...

...

...

Underground Operations: Hunter's Guild - Where the Pokémon Are Hunted and the Deals Are Shady As FUCK!

Deep underground, in the Conference Hall, the innermost sanctuary of the Hunter's Guild. A truly dismal fucking place.

"Is everyone here, you miserable bastards?"

Natsu, now rocking a disguise, narrowed his cloudy eyes, scanning the few figures seated at the conference table. Barely any of them dared to meet his gaze. They were probably more intimidated than a Wurmple facing a Beedrill. What a bunch of cowards.

Hunter W, perched to the left of the head seat, stood up, moved towards Natsu, and gave a respectful nod. Like a Rattata bowing to a Raticate, a truly pathetic sight.

Natsu nodded back, then plopped down in the head seat. He owned the place now, the fucker.

The whole "persuading" Hunter W thing hadn't been a big deal. It was easy as fucking pie.

When Natsu summoned his Hydreigon, Hunter W just stood there, helpless as a Magikarp on dry land. He was absolutely fucking useless.

This Hunter W was a middle-to-upper-tier grunt in the Guild, but he didn't have an Elite-level Pokémon. He was a nobody, for fuck's sake.

And Natsu wasn't just relying on brute force anyway. He'd thought this whole thing through like a Reuniclus solving a puzzle. He was a strategic genius.

Hunter O in Castelia City had been in Tom Ritchie's pocket for now. When Mr. S was around, Hunter O kept his head down, but the moment Mr. S vanished, he moved like a Weavile on ice. The opportunistic prick.

Hunter W, always Hunter O's rival, was clearly losing ground to Hunter O and his Tom Ritchie connection. So he needed a new sugar daddy, a new big shot to back him up. He was desperate as hell.

And who better than Natsu, who showed up first, laid out his terms, and flexed enough power to make a Regigigas blush? He was the obvious fucking choice. The only choice.

If Hunter W hadn't played ball, Natsu wouldn't have hesitated to just appoint a new Chief-In-Charge for the Opelucid City Hunter's Guild right then and there. He'd have fired the motherfucker on the spot.

But Natsu kept him on. Why? Because Hunter W knew this place like the back of his hand, and he understood the dirty dealings of the hunters in the Northern Unova Region's Hunter's Guild better than anyone. He was a useful bastard, despite his shortcomings.

Oh, and let's not forget Ms. Q, who used to work with Mr. Z. She was another ace up Natsu's sleeve, a bargaining chip that could make even a Ghetsis sweat. A fucking invaluable asset.

And the hunters sitting at that table? They weren't fools. Not entirely, anyway.

Hunter W knew he couldn't replace Mr. S with his own pathetic strength. What a joke.

Facing pressure from Hunter O in Castelia City, he had to find a backer who could actually stand up to him and save his ass. He was backed into a fucking corner.

But tough luck for him.

Natsu, stronger and more favored by Ms. Q, was now the Supreme Chief of the Opelucid City Hunter's Guild. Tough shit, right? The fucker was stuck with Natsu.

Hunter W also realized that Natsu wasn't sticking around in Unova forever, so he was smart enough not to get too attached to this temporary boss-minion relationship. He was a shrewd operator, that one. A cunning bastard.

"So, what happened?" Hunter W asked impatiently once Natsu was seated. He was practically vibrating with anticipation.

"Dead," Natsu stated flatly. No fucking emotion.

At that, the faces around the table shifted faster than a Kecleon's skin. They were spooked, the cowards.

They'd probably guessed the outcome, but hearing it confirmed out loud was still a little shocking. Like finding a Legendary Pokémon in a Poké Mart. What the hell?!

Tap, tap—

Natsu lightly tapped the table with his finger, not giving a damn about their shifting expressions or the little scared thoughts swirling in their heads. He was enjoying this, the sadistic prick.

But as the tapping got louder and more deliberate, the folks in the room finally got the memo. This wasn't a fucking tea party.

They all straightened their faces, looking respectfully at Natsu, who was sitting there like a Champion on his throne. A true fucking overlord.

Now they were all tied to Ms. Q's command, and if they wanted to keep their positions and power, Natsu – Hunter N, Ms. Q's face – was someone they absolutely could not afford to piss off. Not a single fucking one of them.

After a moment, only the sound of Natsu's tapping echoed in the Conference Hall. The silence was deafening, a truly chilling fucking sound.

Finally, he spoke.

"Tell me about Nacrene Museum."

"Nacrene Museum?" Hunter W was taken aback. The fuck?

He was a bit surprised why Natsu was asking about that, but after a quick thought, he explained, "Since Nacrene City is way closer to Castelia City than Opelucid City, Mr. S used manpower from Castelia City back then. I'm not entirely clear on the details of that operation." He was clearly holding back shit.

Natsu gave him a look, showing no doubt that he was telling the truth. Or at least, enough of it.

"What about Team Plasma?"

"They..." Hunter W hesitated, a dark look crossing his face. "Lately, we've felt a clear suppression from Team Plasma members. I think they're trying to use this chance to totally take over the Pokémon sales business in the Unova Region." The bastards were making a move.

"Mmm." Natsu nodded. If he were Ghetsis, he certainly wouldn't miss an opportunity like that. "Go on, you idiot."

"Lacunosa Town is completely out of our control," Hunter W spat out, his face practically black with frustration. It was a fucking nightmare.

"Lacunosa Town?"

Natsu thought for a moment. What the hell was so special about that place?

He'd seen Lacunosa Town before. Besides a huge forest, there wasn't much in the way of resources worth fighting over. It was a fucking dump.

It had always been a harmonious little spot, with all sorts of influences coexisting. But now Team Plasma had suddenly thrown its weight around and kicked all the Hunter's Guild guys out. The nerve of those pricks.

While it was possible the hunters had just blundered into the forest, Natsu had a gut feeling that this wasn't just about cutting off the Hunter's Guild's income. This was some bigger shit.

The northern part of Opelucid City also had a massive forest, and the forest northwest of Icirrus City was even bigger than Lacunosa Town's.

So... for Kyurem? The fucking legendary Dragon?

But based on what Colress's instrument did to Thundurus – it just pissed him off, couldn't control him – the effect on a stronger Kyurem would probably be even worse. Like trying to calm a Groudon with a Squirt Bottle. Absolutely fucking useless.

But if Kyurem truly got pissed off, he'd be worse than a dozen rampaging Tyranitars. That would be a fucking catastrophe.

Of course, this was all just Natsu's best guess, like trying to predict a Smeargle's next move. A complete shot in the dark.

"Keep an eye on what Team Plasma is up to, and keep a damn close watch on that man in Castelia to the south."

After pondering, Natsu just dropped those few words, got up, and left. He was done with this shit-hole.

"Understood."

Everyone in the Conference Hall stood up and watched him go. They were probably shitting bricks.

It wasn't until Natsu vanished down the corridor that someone finally let out a huge sigh of relief, looking like a Pokémon that just escaped a Mean Look trap. The tension was palpable, for fuck's sake.

The moment Natsu showed up, he'd dealt with a strong core member so decisively, so powerfully, that these guys were holding their breath the whole time he was there. They were scared shitless.

"Did you all hear that, you idiots?" Hunter W glared at the crowd.

"Yes!"

"Get to it, you lazy bastards."

...

...

...

Leaving the Hunter's Guild, Natsu frowned and pulled a communicator from the inner pocket of his clothes.

It displayed the Team Rocket logo.

Giovanni? What the hell?

Natsu froze for a second, then pressed the answer button.

"Hunter N?"

From the phone, an old voice crackled. It sounded like a Rotom with a sore throat.

Before Natsu could even speak, the voice continued, "I'm Dr. Zager, a Team Rocket researcher, and the Head Executive for the Unova Region."

Zager? Natsu furrowed his brow slightly. The fuck was this guy?

"So?"

"Boss Giovanni said, if I needed help, I could contact you," Dr. Zager stated, as if this was the most normal thing in the fucking world. The nerve of this prick.

Natsu looked up, gazing at the sky.

When those words came out, he felt a little confused. What the hell was Giovanni playing at?

Giovanni hadn't promised him a Team Rocket Executive position, had he?

It was supposed to be a partnership, like a Plusle and Minun working together, not a master-servant deal. What in the fucking world?

But after a moment of thought, Natsu still inquired, "Alright, what's the damn deal then?"

Dr. Zager didn't seem to give a damn about Natsu's actual identity; he just trusted him completely because Giovanni recommended him. Like a trainer blindly trusting a Lucky Egg to make their Pokémon stronger, no questions asked. The idiot.

"We have an exploration mission recently and require your support."

"An exploration mission?"

"Yes, the exact location hasn't been confirmed yet, but it should be near Undella Bay. If you're not busy, you can head there as soon as possible. Once the tests are complete, we can begin."

Undella Bay.

'Abyssal Ruins... Meloetta's sudden departure...'

Several thoughts flashed through Natsu's mind. This was getting weird, for fuck's sake.

Had Team Rocket already set their sights on the Forces of Nature? The original Genies? The goddamn legendaries?!

"I get it. So, what's the fucking pay?"

"A Pay?" Dr. Zager sounded surprised. The asshole was clearly caught off guard.

This time, Boss Giovanni hadn't mentioned a single Poké dollar. Not a fucking cent.

...

(End of this glorious, goddamn chapter, you motherfucker!)