Bottom Trainer II (Pokemon)

...

In the backyard of a house in Opelucid City. A surprisingly nice place for the goddamn amount of swearing that's about to go down.

"Beedrill, how the hell are you feeling, buddy?"

Natsu squinted at Beedrill, who was currently shrouded in a deep purple mist, looking like he was about to evolve into something even more pissed off. Natsu just had to ask, the nerve of him.

"Beer!"

Beedrill's roar, sharper than a Scizor's claw, ripped through the mist. And that purple haze? It evaporated faster than a Snom in a Sunny Day setup.

Yeah, that shit was absorbed. Gone. Poof!

When the purple mist finally cleared, Beedrill stood there, ready to sting some ass.

His look? Barely changed.

If you had to nitpick, maybe those two deep purple stripes on his belly were a bit bolder, like a Shiny Pokémon flexing.

"This is the last one, you magnificent bastard. Absorbed smoother than a Snorlax swallowing a Rare Candy. Looks like you're almost completely adapted, you poisonous son of a bitch..." Natsu grinned, affectionately patting Beedrill's ridiculously long stinger.

"Beer."

Beedrill nodded in agreement, probably thinking, "Yeah, I'm fucking awesome."

Then, with a casual flick of his stinger, purple lines just hung in the air, shimmering like a Toxic spike.

A faint, nasty odor hung around, like someone left a Grimer in the bathroom.

"The effect of these poison sacs is way better than expected," Natsu sighed, a happy sigh, seeing how Beedrill's venom had just gone super saiyan.

Those poison sacs he'd gotten Joanna to grab? They arrived a few days ago, courtesy of the Hunter's Guild, those shady fucks.

Selling and auctioning Pokémon is a slow damn process, takes forever, but Beedrill here? He'd chugged all those poison sacs down in just a few days. The greedy bastard.

His Poison-type energy and raw toxicity had skyrocketed, like a Jumpluff getting hit by a tailwind.

Even his overall power had jumped up a few notches. The dude was a fucking menace now.

"The only bummer is Mr. S's Elite-level Poison-type Pokémon. That damn medication ruined its poison sacs, otherwise, you'd be getting even more ridiculously strong," Natsu grumbled, a hint of genuine regret in his voice. What a waste.

Only one Alolan Muk was left.

But Muk doesn't have poison sacs, for fuck's sake. Their whole body is a toxic waste dump. That "Black Sludge" they leak? That's the real shit.

"But honestly, this is enough for you right now. An Elite-level Pokémon's poison sacs? You might not even handle that shit yet."

"Beer."

After confirming Beedrill's status, Natsu clapped his hands like a proud trainer whose Pokémon just learned Hyper Beam, and called his other Pokémon to prep dinner.

He hadn't left the house for days, just chilling and training in this backyard. What a goddamn life.

It wasn't like he was being lazy, though.

First, the Hunter's Guild in Opelucid City was pretty much stable. As stable as a Golurk after a Protect move.

Aside from not having a supreme chief, it wasn't really affecting the average Pokémon hunter.

The only real gripe was losing access to Lacunosa Town, especially those forests in the northeast Unova Region. Couldn't go in there anymore, the bastards.

Second, Dr. Zager from Team Rocket had come crying to Natsu for help.

But those "Abyssal Ruins"? Not easy to find, even for a fucking Ditto.

Even if Natsu sent a bunch of hunters to help search, finding the exact spot would be like trying to catch a Mew with a Poké Ball in an hour. Impossible shit.

Most importantly, even if Dr. Zager found the damn Abyssal Ruins, he couldn't get inside without Meloetta's help. The poor schmuck was stuck.

Natsu figured Team Rocket would be throwing all their energy into this for a while. Good, let those fucks be busy.

What really had his balls tingling was Team Plasma's shenanigans.

If their target was truly Kyurem in the "Giant Chasm," well, fuck me running.

Natsu knew that with Team Plasma's capabilities and Colress's messed-up technology, they had zero chance against Kyurem. Like a Magikarp trying to fight a Rayquaza.

After all, Opelucid City got frozen solid later on, remember? That was a fucking disaster.

However, if they brought out Team Plasma's strongest battleship, the Plasma Frigate, and combined it with Colress's tech... well, then it'd be a shit-show of epic proportions. You never know what those evil geniuses could pull off.

But there was no point in obsessing over it.

Team Plasma wasn't something he could fight alone. He wasn't a fucking Champion.

The Unova Alliance wasn't taking them seriously anyway, so maybe they needed Giovanni to give them a harsh lesson. That would be a sight to behold, that fucker showing them how it's done.

His main goal in the Unova Region was to stabilize the Hunter's Guild.

Now that Castelia City's Hunter's Guild was under Tom Ritchie's thumb, and Opelucid City's was almost under his own control, the balance of power among the Hunter's Guild bosses was basically set. All he had to do was wait for the perfect moment to shake shit up.

"Just one more week, if this shit keeps up, I'm outta here," Natsu muttered to himself, handing out food like a Chansey passing out Lucky Eggs.

Lunch was done.

Natsu was about to take Beedrill and the gang for some tactical training with Latios and Infernape, who had just hit Gym Leader level. They were ready to kick some ass.

But then, "uninvited guests" showed up. Like a Zubat in a dark cave.

Uninvited Guests: When the FUCK Did You Get Here?!

In the backyard.

Natsu stared at the man with fiery red hair and a big, bright smile, and he immediately started rubbing his temples. This was gonna be a pain in the ass.

"You don't look too happy to see me, do you?" Lance asked, a fake look of "self-awareness" on his face. The bastard.

"Be confident, dumbass, and drop the 'seem'," Natsu retorted, pressing his forehead.

"Well..."

Lance paused, momentarily stunned. He didn't expect that kind of bluntness.

Natsu sighed, defeated. "Why the hell are you in Unova?"

"The Search Department and Interpol have a joint mission, old friend."

Oh, fuck.

As soon as Lance opened his mouth, Natsu knew trouble was brewing. This guy was a magnet for it.

"No, seriously, is there no one else in your whole fucking search department?" Natsu tried to argue.

"Is that not the case?" Lance asked innocently. The prick.

Natsu: (silence, just staring)

They stared at each other, blinking. A tense moment, like a Darkrai facing a Cresselia.

"So, I get it now. You purposely gave me this broken-ass mission, didn't you? This was all part of your fucking plan, wasn't it?" Natsu pulled out the search department document.

No matter how many times he looked at it, that mission document just screamed "trap" to him. It was shady as hell.

"Look, you're recruited, end of fucking story," Lance said, cutting the bullshit and pulling rank. "I'm a Top-ranked Investigator, and I have the right to recruit all Mid-level Investigators, including Primary Investigators."

Lance put extra emphasis on "Primary-ranked," just to rub it in. The smug bastard.

"But I have my own mission, damn it."

"I am a Top-ranked Investigator."

"I'm also a Gym Leader, you know!"

"I am a Top-ranked Investigator."

"You got nothing else to say, do you, you red-headed menace?"

"I am a Top-ranked Investigator."

Natsu: (utter silence, seething)

He felt like Lance had him completely trapped with just that one fucking identity. He was fucked.

Natsu sighed again, a sound of pure resignation. "When the hell did you even get promoted?"

Lance suddenly flashed a victorious grin, like a Smeargle finishing a masterpiece. "Three fucking days ago."

"Having a friend like you, I seriously doubt if there's such a thing as a 'blessing of three lifetimes'," Natsu grumbled, giving him the nastiest glare he could muster.

"Get ready. If this mission goes well, it might even help your own damn mission," Lance said, finally dropping the jokes.

Natsu's expression also turned serious. This was serious shit now.

"What mission?"

"According to months of reconnaissance and investigation by Interpol, they've found a secret Team Plasma research base. A real nasty one.

If we can prove, definitively, that Team Plasma is violating Alliance regulations, screwing over the Unova Alliance's interests, or trying to fucking overthrow the whole Unova Region, then the Unova Alliance can officially brand Team Plasma as an evil organization.

At that point, even if Team Plasma wants to preach their bullshit doctrines under the guise of religion, the Unova Alliance will have enough reasons to crush them, or even launch a full-scale siege."

The reason Team Plasma could just stroll around the Unova Region like they owned the place was because of some of the Unova Alliance's policies. It was a fucking joke.

These policies seemed lenient, or even flat-out stupid, to Natsu.

But if you thought about the Alliance's struggles getting into the Unova Region, and then remembered how the Alola Region was about to open up, it all made sense.

Just like in Alola now, organizations like the Aether Foundation were either blocking the Alliance or trying to get benefits for their own groups and trainers. It was all about power, for fuck's sake.

When the Alliance finally set up shop in the Unova Region, they had to make some damn concessions.

Team Plasma exploited those concessions like a Meowth exploiting its Pay Day.

But now that the Unova Alliance was firmly rooted, they could finally try to change things.

And the biggest obstacle? Team Plasma.

So, going after Team Plasma was the only fucking choice.

"What do you want me to do?" Natsu asked, almost on instinct.

"Interpol is the main force behind this mission; we're just helping out. Honestly, it's not a hard mission at all," Lance explained.

"Alright, fine."

For Natsu, all his important shit was always on him anyway, so no need for any special prep. He was always ready to rumble.

When they stepped out of the house, a helicopter was already waiting outside, looking slick.

As the cabin door slid open, a stern-looking man with short, dark-green hair nodded at them to board.

As the helicopter took off, the man introduced himself: "Mr. Natsu, I am Calente, a special investigator, and one of the planners for this operation. Pleasure to meet you, sir."

Even though Interpol and regular investigators are from different departments.

They're actually intertwined as fuck.

As far as Natsu knew, his cheap-ass teacher Agatha held a big position in Interpol. The old witch had connections.

"Hello."

Natsu shook the offered hand, wondering what kind of shit-show he was walking into.

"Mr. Lance said it would be way easier if one particular person helped with this mission. I was guessing who it could be, but I never expected it to be Mr. Natsu," Calente said, clearly surprised.

Natsu shot a helpless glance at Lance, who was pretending to look out the window.

He hadn't actually been asked to join this mission by name.

Had Lance pulled some strings to drag him into this bullshit?

Lance kept staring out the window, acting like he couldn't hear a damn word they were saying. The fucking actor.

If his eyes weren't occasionally flicking towards Natsu, you'd almost believe he was genuinely oblivious.

Calente, being a true professional, kept things moving. After a quick exchange of pleasantries with Natsu, he started laying out the mission's main objectives.

The helicopter gained altitude fast.

This was clearly a specialized Alliance vehicle. Top-tier shit.

Not long after.

They touched down in a pretty remote and undeveloped town in the Unova Region.

Nuvema Town.

Lance and Natsu followed Calente to the town center, where a huge Laboratory stood.

The Interpol Special Operations Group's tent was set up in the lab's open area, keeping things discreet, mostly.

A ton of high-tech instruments were packed inside the tent.

Not just Interpol's gear, but also some serious Pokémon research equipment.

Inside several glass cages, a few Pokémon were clearly not in their right minds. They looked fucked up.

And a female researcher in a white lab coat with curly orange hair was frowning, staring at data on the instruments, furiously writing notes in a notebook.

Professor Aurea Juniper! The real deal!

On the other side.

Standing there was a tiny, slender woman in a black suit, with long purple hair down to her waist, and a professional headset clamped on her head, like she was coordinating a tactical strike.

The Head of the Battle Frontier, the Ruler of the Battle Tower, the Head of Interpol's Countermeasure Headquarters,

Detective Anabel! The fucking legend!

Calente went over to Anabel and reported something to her.

And Natsu moved to Professor Juniper's side.

He didn't say a damn word, not wanting to disturb her.

He just watched the aggressive Lillipup in the glass enclosure, its eyes blazing red, slamming its head against the glass. The poor bastard was clearly distressed.

Wild Lillipup aren't usually tough, but its gentle temperament was clearly out the fucking window.

It was kinda like the Thundurus Natsu had seen, but this Lillipup was way more messed up.

Normal physical development, normal abilities, but abnormally aggressive and offensive capabilities—Natsu quietly drew a few conclusions from his observations. This was some weird shit.

"Normal excretion, and increased feeding, suggest energy consumption is off the charts, and the influence of food can't be ruled out," Professor Juniper muttered, deep in thought.

"But that possibility is very low," Natsu couldn't help but interject.

"Yes," Professor Juniper, who had been looking down, replied, "Normal excretion is the best proof. Could it be an injection?"

As she spoke, she suddenly had a realization. Like a Light Bulb Pokémon powering up.

It was only then that she looked up at Natsu.

"Natsu?" Professor Juniper gasped, surprised. "What the hell are you doing here?"

They'd met a few times recently during academic exchanges, even had some good chats.

Natsu glanced helplessly at Lance, who was still pretending to be busy next to him. "Let's not talk about this unfortunate fucking coincidence, Professor Juniper. Are you studying the condition of these Wild Pokémon?"

"Yes, there have been several incidents like this with Wild Pokémon recently outside Nuvema Town.

Anabel and the others believe this might be a result or impact of Team Plasma's research. If we can figure it out, it might help with our next moves," Professor Juniper explained.

As she spoke, she added resignedly, "But this isn't my main field, damn it."

Professor Juniper was famous for her work on "the origins of Pokémon," mixed with historical archaeology.

She was still young, not as all-encompassing as Professor Oak or Professor Rowan. Not yet anyway.

"Fortunately, you're here, Natsu. I'm confident that if we both put our heads together, we can definitely figure this shit out," she said with a genuine smile.

It was clear she respected Natsu's abilities, even if he was still a rookie in the research world.

Natsu instinctively touched his nose. "Professor Juniper, you're being too modest, ma'am."

He was just a half-baked researcher relying on future knowledge. When it came to real Pokémon research, he was an amateur at best, just writing papers. If he had to do actual, hard-core research, he'd still rely on the big shots.

However.

Maybe he really could offer some insight into what the hell was wrong with these Pokémon.

"Look at this."

Professor Juniper ignored Natsu's humble remarks, thinking he was just being polite, and handed him all the data she'd collected and observed.

Natsu quickly skimmed through it twice.

He muttered to himself: "Shouldn't be injections. Even though the blood samples show really high activity, there are no abnormal elements left. And changes in mood and hormones can also affect blood activity, but the fluctuations here aren't past the threshold."

"Yes, I thought so too," Professor Juniper agreed. "Normal excretion is the best proof. Could it be a hidden injection, then?"

As she spoke, she suddenly had another revelation.

It was only then that she looked up at Natsu, her eyes wide.

"Think about it," Natsu said, his voice low. "Could it be Soundwave?"

Professor Juniper's eyes lit up. "You mean a specific frequency band?!"

"Yeah, like Vespiquen controlling Combee."

"Simulating superior and inferior roles? Stimulating hormone secretion?"

"Leading to stronger attacks."

"It can even affect brainwave frequency bands!"

"..."

"..."

As they talked, referring to the data, it was like they'd hit a fucking breakthrough.

Just then, the mission leader, Chief-In-Charge Anabel, walked over with Calente, having finished her briefings.

And it wasn't just them.

Everyone in the tent was more or less intrigued, listening in on these two geniuses.

Calente listened to their conversation, utterly bewildered. He understood every single word on its own, but when they combined those technical terms, he was completely lost. "Ms. Anabel, they..."

Even though Anabel looked tiny, her power and prestige were backed by her strength and identity. She was a fucking force of nature.

"That, my friend, is called professionalism."

Looking at Lance, she said with a satisfied nod, "I finally understand why you insisted on bringing someone else along. You sneaky bastard."

Lance rubbed the tip of his nose, a rare look of surprise on his face.

Someone actually understood his master plan? Holy shit!

Lance couldn't help but ask, "Interpol Anabel, do you understand what they're talking about?"

"No," Anabel replied candidly, a slight shrug. "What the hell would I need these experts for if I could understand it myself?"

"I'd heard Mr. Natsu's name before; he really is talented. Our Interpol department doesn't have anyone like him," Anabel sighed again, a genuine lament.

...

(End of this glorious, goddamn chapter! Stay fucking tuned!)