-The Dragon King-

  -Call to Arms: Ch 5-

  Have you ever known you were going to be disappointed, so you mentally prepare yourself to be disappointed so that you won’t be bothered, but then whatever it is finally arrives, and it still manages to disappoint you?

  That was the exact feeling that Mark felt when he looked out across the 15 men and women that made up the lineup of his new recruits.

  “What am I looking at here?”

  “The people who you invited for a job.”

  “I was being sarcastic, Purple. I know what I’m looking at.”

  “Then why did you ask?”

  “Because I- You- Shut up, just shut up. I can see that smirk you’re trying to hide.”

  “I assure you, I have no idea what you mean.”

  Marcus scowled and waved her off, as he continued pacing back and forth.

  The noon sun beat down on the cracked asphalt lot where the twelve fresh, jolly, and eager recruits stood in the least line-like line you could picture.

  This was the foundation of which Marcus’ fledgling private military company would be built upon.

  Marcus, needless to say, was rather not impressed.

  He paced before them, his boots scuffing the ground as he sized up the motley crew. His expectations, already low, sank further the longer he looked.

  The first man slouched to one side with a horrible posture, his doughy gut spilled out over his belt. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he was breathing hard just from standing up in the heat. Next to him stood a scrawny girl who was at least 60 pounds underweight for her height, and couldn’t stop twitching- which likely had something to do with the garish energy drink logo on her sweater.

  Third in line was a hulking figure with bulging muscles that were so defined that it told Mark he was either on several types of steroids or severely dehydrated.

  And the rest of them were all just more of the same.

  A tactical helmet two sizes too big. Puffed out chests. “Tough guy” tattoos peeking out from sleeves. Egos practically radiating off them. Expensive gear held proudly, fancy gizmos attached to their belts, each and every one without a single scratch of spec of dirt because they hadn’t ever been used in the field even once.

  It was, unfortunately, exactly the type of people he was afraid he was going to get from advertising on social media. A bunch of losers, blowhards, and gym bros with egos bigger than their brains.

  The only one that looked like they had done anything even related to this field of work before was a short girl with tanned skin who was fidgeting with the hem of a battered red outfit that look reeaaallly suspiciously like a female Magma grunt uniform that had the M ripped off of it.

  (Mark decided he was just going to ignore that problem and pretend it didn’t exist, because he really just did not want the headache.)

  After a few more minutes passed and no last second recruit came running out of the treeline to save him with a resume explaining how they were a former Green Beret and could track a deer while blindfolded by smell alone, Mark sighed and finally turned to address his… recruits.

  “Thank you all for coming here today. First of all, that is the worst fucking line I have ever seen. It’s so bad that I’m not sure if my old drill sergeant would have a stroke or physically assault you if he were here- no, no don’t bother trying to fix it now, I’ve already had to see it.”

  Mark stood up straight in front of them, arms clasped behind his back, and glared down at them.

  “I’m going to make this very simple. I don’t care if you’re a hotshot with a golden Gyarados, 14 Gym Badges, and your dad works at Poke-Google. You’re here because you want to work for me, which means you will listen to me. Until you prove yourself good enough for a promotion, you do not require any thoughts to touch together in your head. When I say jump, you jump. When I say shoot, you pull the trigger without asking questions. All you need to do is follow orders like a good soldier, and I will make you very rich.”

  Mark dragged his gaze up and down the shitty crappy ass line like a metal rake over concrete, and while most of the recruits bristled at his demands, they all perked up like dogs at the mention of money.

  “Any objections? A forewarning, the options for objections are to either leave, or get punched in the face. So any objections? No…? Good.”

  Mark clapped his hands and started pacing again.

  “Alright, now before I hire any of you, I’m going to send you all out on a bit of a quest to make sure you’re up to the task. If you succeed, then you’ll be welcomed to the team-” Mark visibly paused before backtracking and stressing a different word choice. “Welcomed to the organization and given your first paycheck. If you fail then you get neither.”

  Someone snorted intentionally loudly, and drew the entire group’s attention. It was the guy on the farthest end of the line. He was tall, well built, with black hair, and was clearly one of the more experienced trainers just at a glance.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “Uh, yeah there is.” The man stepped forward and put one hand to his chest while gesturing to everyone behind him. “I don’t think it's a stretch to say that some of us clearly are better cut out for this than others. Some of us should just skip the whole testing thing and get on to making money- we’re sacrificing time out of our days to be here, after all.”

  “That’s not going to be happening.”

  “Oh reaaally? Who are you to judge us, huh? Actually, what qualifications do you even have to lead this?”

  …Was this really happening? This was one of those stereotypical things that was so stereotypical that you would never actually see it outside of media.

  “Whoa ho-ho! Everyone, attention please.” Mark raised his hand, snapped his fingers, and then gestured at the guy. “We have a wannabe tough guy here! What’s your name, son?”

  “I just know my worth.” The man snorted. “I’m John Pokemon. I have four badges. I looked up your profile, and you only have one. Despite that you’re still acting like you’re some hot shit when I could-“

  He was cut off as Mark grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and lifted him into the air so that they were eye level. It was a strain and would have been a lot easier with both arms, but he wanted to make a point.

  “You could do what?”

  John’s eyes widened and he reached for his belt, but Mark was faster, grabbing his hand as he pulled it up and ripping his Pokeball away.

  “No, this is a conversation between the two of us. If you have something to say, then you say it to my face.”

  “P-Put me down you lunatic!”

  “Eh, if you say so.”

  Mark grinned as he reared back and threw the guy as hard as he could, getting him a good five or six feet, before he slammed into the dirt.

  Mark threw the Pokeball as well, bouncing it off the guy’s head.

  “Aww, you were so snappy just a few seconds ago, what happened?”

  “You- You’re gonna pay for that!” John sneered as he stood up and threw his pokeball.

  A small lion cub emerged, which had a blue coat with black fur covering its face, legs, and a brigt yellow star on the tip of its tail.

  “Luxio, I choose you!”

  Mark slapped a hand to his belt, not even bothering to pull a Pokeball off his belt, and Shelgon appeared in a burst of light.

  “Shelgon, roast the cat while I take out the trash.”

  “Alright, Luxio use leer, then follow it up with a Spark and, uh, h-hey what are you doing?”

  The upstart’s commanders fell off into a nervous stutter as Mark approached.

  “What? Can you not hear? I just said I’m taking out the fucking trash!” Mark punctuated the word by rearing and and slugging John in the face, causing everyone in the group to wince.

  “Lux!” The electric cub shouted in surprise as he watched his trainer get sucker punched, but before he could run to help, a very angry Dragon slammed into his side like a wrecking ball.

  The cat was sent rolling across the rocky ground before bouncing to its feet with a snarl, and struck back, blitzing back in with electricity shooting off in erratic arcs. A plume of dragon fire rushed to meet him, but he jumped, and the crowd gasped at the display. Luxio spun midair, electricity trailing light like a comet as he sent lightning crashing down to earth.

  Shelgon instinctively put up Protect, but lightning going at, you know, the speed of light, was a lot faster than his response time, and the current slammed into his shell, fizzling against the ironclad dragon hide. He flinched, his muscles seizing up as the electricity of Thunderbolt raced through him.

  But once the attack died off Shelgon snorted, shook off the hit, and charged at where Luxio was coming down.

  Luxio dodged the Take Down with a Quick Attack, claws flashing as it raked Shelgon’s side. But the attack was unpowered, and the scratches sparked off Shelgon’s armor without even marking it.

  Luxio landed in a poised crouch, and looked back over his shoulder looking for orders- orders that would never come. Shelgon was already running again, and this time Take Down didn’t miss.

  Luxio cried out as Shelgon slammed into him like a truck and carried him through a nearby tree. He countered with Thunder Fang, and at point blank he couldn’t miss. The bite connected, lightning flaring, but Shelgon’s pain tolerance was monstrous. He barely grunted, twisting his bulk to slam Luxio into the ground, and repeatedly slammed his head down on Luxio with-

  SLAM

  Headbut

  SLAM

  after

  SLAM

  Headbut

  SLAM

  A brilliant yellow light charged up and released in an unaimed explosion, strong enough to knock Shelgon off, and leave him stunned.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Panting, Luxio rose and summoned another attack. Electricity exploded outward in a radiant starburst, illuminating the area like a shitty electro festival. It burned, and the force behind it make it clear that this Pokemon was statistically quite a bit stronger than Shelgon, but Shelgon was Shelgon and Shelgon didn’t fucking give a shit. He trudged through the storm, his shell slowly scorching black as he took the hit. Each step was slow, digging into the ground and pulling himself forward.

  Panicking, Luxio stoped Discharge and tried wagging its tail for Swagger to enrage Shelgon.

  Unfortunately Shelgon was already plenty pissed off.

  …It was kind of his thing, you know.

  Shelgon answered with Headbut, lowering his skull and charging like a battering ram. Luxio’s dodge was a fraction too slow, and Shelgon’s shell clipped its side, hurling it into a boulder. The impact cracked the stone.

  Luxio struggled up, legs trembling. It unleashed one last attack, cloaking itself in a blazing electric aura and letting out a roar as it streaked toward Shelgon, like a living thunderbolt.

  Luxio slammed its face into a glowing green barrier.

  As Luxio recoiled, dazed from its own move, Shelgon gathered dragon fire in his mouth and retaliated with his classic pseudo-Dragon Pulse. Blue energy shot forward like a cannon, exploding on contact and slamming Luxio into the ground with earth shaking force.

  As the dust settled. Luxio didn’t rise, its polished fur was matted, and its eyes were spinning in its head, completely out cold.

  Shelgon stood up tall, puffing up in pride and let out a low bellow of victory.

  “Good job, buddy!” Mark laughed as he walked over and threw an equally unconscious John on top of his fainted Pokemon.

  “Shel!”

  “Hell yeah! That’s how you fucking do it!”

  “Mmngh.”

  Mark smirked as John slowly drifted back into consciousness, and he kneeled down beside him, lifting John’s head up by his hair.

  “Well look who’s awake. You must have a thicker skull than I thought with how hard I punched you. Still think you're tough shit? Any quirky one liners?”

  “N-No.”

  “Good, but still wrong. You will refer to me as Sir while in this man’s army!” Mark pushed John’s head back into the dirt. “And that’s if you get in at all!”

  He stood up, clapped his hands together, and looked back at the group of gawking onlookers.

  “Any other objections?”

  “”NO SIR!””

  A chorus of shouts rung out, with the potential ex-Magma grunt even starting to snap a elbow up salute before panicking and dropping it.

  “Good! Now, originally your intro exam was going to be an easy ball. You just needed to bring me two Bidoofs. One to sell, one to keep for yourself for HMs. But Johnny boy here just changed my mind. You’re each going to need to bring me one Bidoof, and two Shinx. I’ll reimburse you for the Pokeballs afterwards, and the premise is the same as before, one to sell, one to keep. Importantly this way you will all start with the same introductory Sinnoh Pokemon, and as time passes we’ll have an easy measurement of who’s the best at training their Pokemon. A little competition is good for everyone, and you’ll all have a Pokemon that can actually fight and isn’t some dumbass Zubat that goes down in two hits.”

  Mark looked meaningfully at the (probably) Magma grunt, who coughed and looked away at that, unable to hold eye contact.

  “Yes, this is a harder test than just grabbing two Bidoof. Everyone turn and thank Johnny boy. Go on, say it.”

  A grumble of thank yous and glares rolled off the group and Mark nodded with a pleased expression. It was so satisfying to be an asshole sometimes.

  -The Dragon King-

  A bell chimed as the door to the small cafe opened and closed.

  Every single other shop she had been to over the last few months had followed a predictable pattern. Everyone would freeze, and stare at her silently with wide eyes. Then the manager would hurry out to serve her personally, usually offering her free food while just short of groveling at her feet (or worse, acting far too familiar with her. She would then be put in the most visible part of the building, and after the shock wore off, she would be surrounded by people asking for pictures, or autographs, or any other number of things. They were well meaning, and she didn’t blame them for it or anything, but it could become annoying.

  Here though, it was different.

  The old man behind the dink counter just smiled and nodded at the woman who had been coming here for long before she was famous. The other customers, all elderly, just gave her a small wave, if they even noticed at all.

  For Cynthia, it was a welcome relief.

  She stopped by Joe only to say hi and to ask for “My usual, please.” (A cup of rich chocolate coffee that was the cafe’s special blend, and a slice of cinnamon cake), then made her way to the back of the shop, where two younger women sat- drawing much more attention than her, to her amusement.

  The first was a woman with short light brown hair with black roots, that framed sparkling brown eyes. She was thin but lithe, in shape from all the time spend outside, and her frame was accentuated by a black long-sleeved crop top that clung to her developed curves, and left her smooth belly bare for all to admire. She had a green cloak draped over her shoulders, baggy orange pants that were torn up below the knees, and big green boots.

  The second had short vibrant pink hair and matching pink eyes, that only amplified a youthful, almost doll-like charm that contrasted perfectly with various small scars and bruises all over her. She wore a sleeveless purple and black spandex top that clung tight to her skin, leaving her arms bare to showcase solid muscular definition. Her plain white jogging pants sat low on her hips and one of her sweaty bare feet tapped softly against the wooden floor.

  Her knee was bouncing erratically, her coffee untouched, and she looked like a student counting down the seconds until they could leave class.

  The gym leaders Gardenia and Maylene were a much rarer sight than Cynthia in this shop.

  “Cynthia! It’s good to see you.” Gardenia stood up, her green tea in one hand, and gave her a one armed hug. It was much less than the full body crushing grapples that Wake would dish out to anyone who let him, but it was also less painful and more personal.

  “It’s good to see you, Gardy.” Cynthia returned the hug, then gave a wave to the third girl in their group. “It’s good to see you too, Maylene.”

  “Yeah…” The martial artist couldn’t meet her eyes.

  Cynthia took her seat, and Maylene seemed to get more tense the closer she was.

  “Why are we here, Cynthia? What do you need?” Maylene asked, her voice wasn’t hostile, but it certainly wasn’t warm either.

  “We were all in the same area, so I thought it would be nice to see each other. When was the last time we had some girl time?”

  “I think that’s a grand idea.” Gardenia said as she sat back down. “It’s been too long.”

  Maylene didn’t seem to buy it, if anything the rate per minute that she was bouncing her knee sped up.

  “How have you been? I saw the attack on Oreburg and read the reports. I know that the media is saying that everything’s alright, but is it really?

  “Everything is fine there, really, it is. The trainers at the scene did a remarkable job of keeping the damage contained to the edge of the city, and the police evacuated all the civilians quickly and efficiently. I’ve already directed funds their way, and with the help of Pokemon, the bulk of the infrastructure should all be restored within a month.”

  “That’s so good to hear! I’ve been in talks with local officials and we’re wrapping up plans to send an aid package to help reconstruction. I already called Wake earlier, and he’s working on the same thing.”

  “That would be wonderful, I know that everyone would appreciate the help, and remember it for a long time to come.”

  Maylene didn’t calm down as the table descended into small talk, if anything she seemed to become more agitated.

  “If we’re not here for anything important, then I need to leave.” She cut in. “I have an event I need to be at, the local dojo specifically requested I make an appearance for their five year anniversary, and we already set the entire thing up with the media.”

  Cynthia and Gardenia shared a look between themselves. They had been planning to warm up to their estranged friend before easing into the topic but that clearly wasn’t in the cards.

  “Well, Maymay, before you go, would you mind if we just have a brief chat about some, ah, more economic things?” Gardenia asked with a smile.

  “Veilstone doesn’t have the money to spare for an aid package.”

  “Everyone knows you’re in a rough patch, no one is judging you for not sending one,

  “I can’t.”

  “Mayleen, we haven’t even said anything yet.”

  “I can’t! You know I can’t! There’s only one thing you could possibly have dragged me here about, and you know I can’t do anything about it!”

  “Maymay…”

  Gardenia looked genuinely distraught, but Cynthia held up a hand and took the lead with a stern voice that was completely different to the warm tone she’d been using so far.

  “Mayleen, Galactic’s HQ- their entire base of operations is in your city. Everything that they do across Sinnoh is planned and operated out of your city. By refusing to take action you are directly permitting the harm that they are inflicting on innocent people-”

  “I KNOW THAT!” Maylene slammed her hands down on the table, causing the cups to rattle, and drawing the attention of the other patrons.

  She met the wave of disapproving stares from all the old people with a glare of her own, but hunched down and lowered her voice to not disturb them.

  “I know that. Fuck, I know that, Cynthia. But Veilstone has exactly two things keeping it afloat. We have the game center, and we have the Galactic Corporation. That’s it! I charge basically nothing for my Dojo, and I still can’t attract enough people to make enough jobs to even make a dent in Galactic’s numbers. If they leave, they take all their money, all their jobs, and even most of their specialized employees. No jobs means no money, which means the few local businesses shrivel and die- and what happens when everyone's out of money to gamble, huh? You think those snotty fucks running the game corner won’t just pack up and move to Eterna, or Heartstone, just like everyone else has!?”

  “Maylene, you have to know that Galactic is behind most of this. They want you to be as dependent on them as possible.”

  “What other choice do I have? My city, my home, would literally have the ground fall out from underneath it with a wave of their hands.”

  “I know that, Maymay, and I understand why it hurts, I really do.” Gardenia leaned across the table. “But there are other people’s cities, other people’s homes that are hurting.”

  “That’s rich for you to say, when they’ve set up shop less than a ten minute walk from here. Where’s your evidence huh?” Maylene scowled, causing Gardenia to wilt and Cyntia to get defensive.

  “I won’t arrest someone without evidence. I won’t cross that line…”

  “And Galactic’s grip on Veilstone has been helping them bury that evidence.” Cynthia held a hand in front of Gardenia defensively. “If you would just cooperate with the League, then we could launch a joint-”

  Maylene stood up abruptly, her chair loudly scraping against the ground as it was pushed back.

  “You clearly don’t have anything useful to say, or can offer me a way out that doesn’t destroy my home.”

  “Mayleen! Don’t you dare-”

  “We’re done here.”

  The pink haired Gym Leader stormed off, leaving her drink untouched.

  Gardenia called out for Maylene to stop, and Cynthia sank back into her seat, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.

  “Well… I’m sorry that didn’t go as well as we thought it would.”

  “She’s not entirely wrong.” Cynthia said, feeling snappy. “Veilstone doesn’t have a ton of options, and you also let Galactic set up shop in your city.”

  “I won’t do anything without evidence, you know that, Cynth. I can’t abuse my power like that, because of the president it would set. But that also means they’re too cautious to do anything overt around here.”

  “So where does that leave me?” The champion sighed. “They have thousands of members, hundreds of trainers, multiple Ace level trainers, and have multiple cities under their thumb. If I try to root them out, I’ll have a war on my hands. A war where I can’t even be sure that all the Gyms will be on my side.

  “They have Maylene and Vulkner on strings by their cities. Wake is too good natured for paranoia, and doesn’t believe in my ‘conspiracy theories’ about Galactic, let alone what they’re trying to dig up in the old ruins around Sinnoh. Candice is too young, Snowpoint is too isolated, and she doesn’t want anything to do with mainland politics.”

  Cynthia sighed.

  “That leaves me with Bryon, who wants to go at this like a battering ram and is ready to turn his islands into a siege fortress at a moment's notice. My Elite Four. And Fantia- who’s a coin flip as long as Hearthome isn’t touched. I can’t understand how she thinks, I don’t think anyone does, not even Lucian can get in her head.”

  Cynthia chuckled, but it was… strange. She didn’t sound terribly scared, despite how negatively she was painting the picture. There was concern there, sure, but it was mostly frustration.

  “And Roark just went awol on you.” Gardenia finished with a sympathetic look.

  “It would seem so.”

  “Well, personally I don’t think you’re in that bad of a situation. If anything I would say Galactic knows that they’re at a disadvantage if they’re willing to play this dirty, and go hunting for old legends that may or may not even exist, just to have a chance against you.”

  Cynthia hummed in response.

  “Besides, if things ever get really bad you could just… walk in and arrest them. We know where their HQ is, and it’s not like anyone would be able to stop you.”

  “With how entrenched Galactic is? The single largest company in all of Sinnoh by orders of magnitudes? With how much prestige they have from being the direct successor of the Galaxy Expedition? With how many connections they have? With how well they cover their tracks? When I have no evidence beyond my own words and some things they’ve been digging up from archeology sites that they own? What would I do? Confiscate their pokemon and force them to be locked away without a trial?”

  Cynthia just stared down at her coffee with a small frown, swirling the steaming liquid around the edges of the cup.

  “I would break the region.”

  “All champions do, in some way or another.” Gardenia told her with a soft smile, and Cynthia hated that she was right.

  -End Chapter-

  Trying to explain how Galactic is so much more established than basically every other team. Rocket works from the shadows, Magma/Aqua hide their bases in literal holes in the ground, Plasma is disguised as a political movement and the moment they drop the facade they get swarmed by every Gym leader and EF member in the region. Meanwhile Galactic proudly paints giant neon Gs on all their buildings and practically walk around in public.

  I think I’m doing a decent job.

  If you want to keep up-to-date on releases, get access to a crap ton of shitty memes, and several channels worth of Bentai, use discord code /Hy7g6UqGQd

  PLEASE review and leave comments! I have to work full time this weekend, and reading feedback is pure dopamine to my brain. I need something to carry me through the next few days.