Fifth Elite of the Pokemon World

It turned out that the Thick Fat Ability really was a must-have for any Pokémon journey, perfect for home or the wild.

The route Jumpluff had pointed out was a nightmare to navigate, there was no clear path, just a mess of obstacles. Luther wrestled with dense thickets, drooping branches blocking his sight, and gnarled roots snagging his feet.

And that wasn't the half of it. Ahead, two massive fallen trees lay tangled together, their trunks forming a natural wall over a meter high. Luther was sizing up whether to detour around or scramble over the mossy logs when Marill bounded up to them.

To his amazement, the tiny Marill yanked the lower log aside with a surprising tug, sending the upper one tumbling back.

Luther gaped at the scene, jaw dropping at the sheer visual shock. Cradling Marill in his arms, he glanced around, then down at the displaced log, suddenly wondering if she could hoist him up too if she felt like it.

After clambering over the logs, Luther stumbled into a flock of wild Crobat. The nocturnal bats zipped past him like a gust of wind, their wings thrumming through the quiet forest. It took a while for the stillness to settle back in.

The trek remained grueling, but wild Pokémon encounters spiked sharply. In less than thirty minutes, Luther had flipped open his Pokédex seven or eight times.

It wasn't that he couldn't ID them, he knew them well enough. This was more of a collector's itch, a compulsion to log every sighting. Plus, the Professor had stressed that each Trainer's Pokédex needed to catalog wild Pokémon data they encountered. For Luther, it was part of the gig.

"Scizor, the Pincer Pokémon, evolved from Scyther. Its eye-like claws intimidate foes, and a single swipe packs the punch of a deadly weapon."

Luther aimed his Pokédex at the Scizor perched on a branch ahead. Its hefty pincers dangled calmly, showing no threat. After hearing the Pokédex's voice, it flexed its claws proudly, as if showing off.

Luther clasped his hands and tossed out a few courteous words before hurrying through Scizor's turf.

With its Bug-and-Steel typing and sleek design, Scizor was right up Luther's alley. Still, his mind lingered on the abandoned Pokémon he'd met earlier.

The trees started thinning out, and after pushing aside a low branch, Luther stepped into a clearing.

Beyond the woods stretched a gentle hillside, where a moonlit stream glittered. A crowd of Pokémon gathered along its banks, lapping at the water.

Across the stream, Houndoom and a few Mismagius lounged around a crackling campfire.

Luther's sharp eyes picked out more, Poliwhirl, Arcanine, and Lairon mingling with the group.

Houndoom clearly ran the show here. The Mismagius and Arcanine formed an outer ring, while smaller, frailer Pokémon huddled closer to the fire's warmth. Houndoom paced the perimeter, nudging any sleeper with sloppy posture back into line.

It kept a wary eye on the Pokémon drinking at the stream. Even among wild Pokémon, there was a pecking order, and Houndoom didn't seem to trust outsiders much.

For Pokémon once tamed, the wild could be a brutal wake-up call. Battle-hardened ones raised by Trainers might manage, but those bred as pampered pets? Their odds were grim in these circumstances.

From his earlier run-ins, Luther could tell Houndoom and the three Mismagius had been raised with care, battle-ready, then cast aside. Their Trainers had clearly prepped them for fights, not cuddles.

But the Misdreavus and the Nidoran he spotted now? They screamed "pet" from a mile away.

Houndoom and the Mismagius's wariness of humans only grew as their ragtag crew expanded. Every new story they heard fueled their bitterness toward people.

Then, out of nowhere, Luther felt a surge, a wild urge to catch one of them and lead them to glory at the Pokémon League Tournament.

Their old Trainers had given up on them, but Luther saw something different. Mismagius, Houndoom, even that prankster Misdreavus, they were all gems in his book.

If their owners had ditched them over "weakness," what would it mean for them to shine under his wing?

Luther was mulling over how to approach Houndoom and lay out his pitch when Jumpluff, looking fed up, rammed into his side mid-thought.

He hit the ground with a groan, wincing in pain. Before he could ask why she'd knocked him over, he looked up, straight into a pair of piercing, furious eyes.

Unbelievable. Houndoom had bolted from the far bank to the grove's edge in the blink of an eye while he'd been lost in his head.

It bared its fangs, clearly ticked off. Luther's sneaky tailing and spying had rubbed it the wrong way.

Luther didn't flinch. He'd meant to talk to Houndoom anyway, its coming to him just saved him the walk.

"I want to catch you."

Houndoom froze, visibly thrown. Luther could almost hear its thoughts: 'This guy's either a moron or completely unhinged to say that out loud.'

Sure enough, once it snapped out of its shock, Houndoom's glare sharpened. It took Luther's words as a taunt, and the low growl rumbling from its throat signaled it was ready to lunge.

"I'm dead serious. If you'd just cool off for a sec, I'd be happy to lay it all out for you," Luther urged, his tone steady and coaxing.

Jumpluff piped up too, chirping something in support. After a tense stretch, Houndoom, poised like it might lunge any moment, eased up a bit, though its icy stare didn't soften.

"Alright, I'll take that as a sign you're willing to hear me out. Houndoom, you're an abandoned Pokémon, aren't you?"

The words cut deep, like prodding an old scar. Houndoom's jaw clenched, its instincts flaring as it fought the urge to tackle Luther then and there.

"You've gathered this little crew of cast-off Pokémon out here in the wild, protecting the ones too weak to fight, finding comfort with others who can hold their own. You stepped up as their leader, keeping them from lashing out at humans and shielding the frail ones. That's something I really respect, and it's exactly why I want to catch you."

"You've been ditched by Trainers before, so I get it, you probably don't trust us much. But I can show you I'm not like them."

Luther pulled out his Pokédex, waving it in front of Houndoom before gesturing to Jumpluff. "Were you just trying to convince Jumpluff to ditch me and join you? She's from the Research Lab, let her tell you what kind of person a Trainer with a Pokédex really is."

Jumpluff let out a soft trill, introducing herself to Houndoom. Luther couldn't catch the words, but he could read plenty in Houndoom's face, its hard edges softening, uncertainty creeping in.

When Jumpluff fell quiet, Luther jumped in. "This is your shot to prove what you're made of. I don't know why your old Trainer gave up on you, but if they're out to make a name for themselves, they're probably aiming for the Pokémon League Conference. Well, guess what? I'm headed for next year's Sinnoh Lily of the Valley Conference."

"Picture this: you might face off against the Trainer who dumped you right there at the Conference. Or maybe they'll flunk out and catch you stealing the spotlight on the big stage, beamed right to their TV or PokéNav back home."

"Think about it. Isn't it thrilling? A Pokémon they tossed aside, rising up to shine at the League Tournament? They abandoned you, and you get to rub their noses in how wrong they were. We've got a saying for that: a real slap in the face."

Luther leaned in close to Houndoom, dropping his voice to a whisper. "That kind of payback feels good. Proving your worth? That would feel even better."

Houndoom's head snapped up, and Luther met its gaze with a bold, unwavering grin.

Inside, though, Luther simmered with a quiet fury. These Pokémon had poured their hearts into their Trainers, only to be discarded like trash without a backward glance.

His thinking was straightforward: if he made it to the Pokémon League Tournament, he'd make those Trainers regret every choice they'd ever made and teach them a lesson they wouldn't forget.

Houndoom's eyes flicked toward the distant campfire, where Mismagius had taken over its patrol, circling the group. Then it turned back to Luther, wavered for a beat, and shook its head.

Luther caught on quick.

"You're worried about these abandoned little ones, aren't you? And you figure becoming a top-tier Trainer at the League isn't as simple as it sounds?"

Houndoom dipped its head in a slow nod.

Luther saw the problem clear as day. If he took Houndoom, the glue holding this band of rejects together, the group would probably collapse. Even with a Pokédex holder's solid rep, only a handful ever clawed their way to the top ranks in those Tournaments.

After mulling it over, Luther landed on a fix.

"I've got another plan. How about I set you all up at the Research Lab? You'd have a safe spot to call home, no more living on edge. Whether you want to team up with me after that? That would totally be your call."

Professor Rowan's Research Lab had plenty of space, way less crowded than Professor Oak's sprawling setup, a real downside for a guy obsessed with Evolution studies. If these Pokémon agreed to settle there, Rowan wouldn't have any reason to turn them away.

Luther knew this was impulsive. He just felt for these Pokémon, plain and simple. As a living, breathing person, he couldn't see a reason to sit back and do nothing.

Houndoom blinked, stunned and Jumpluff looked just as floored.

Luther's face was all business.

"Kids pick and choose. Me? I want the whole crew!"

Houndoom let out a few sharp barks at Jumpluff, hashing something out. She shook her head with a helpless little shrug.

Luther clocked Houndoom's hesitation. His over-the-top declaration had thrown it for a loop, and now it paced in a tight circle, tail swishing as it tried to process.

Luther plopped down on the ground, cradling a dazed Ralts in his lap. He was sure Houndoom would come around. They might be skeptical of humans, but the credibility of a Pokédex holder, plus the promise of a secure haven, was too good to pass up.

(End of Chapter)