Pokémon: Raising Abandoned Pokémon into Legends

"Me?" Rio raised an eyebrow.

Not to be cynical, but calling me out in front of everyone like this—I can’t help but wonder if he’s planning to say something bad to set me up.

Despite his suspicions, Rio walked over to Brook.

"Mr. Rio—what I’m about to ask might be a bit forward, but I hope you’ll indulge me," Brook said with a smile.

If you know it’s forward, why ask? Rio gave a mental eye-roll, but since he’d eaten the man’s food, he replied politely: "Go ahead."

"Actually—the first time you sent out your Charizard at the conference, I noticed it. It looked familiar to me." Brook held a wine glass, addressing the crowd rather than Rio directly. "Why? Because it reminds me of a shiny Charmander I once released into the wild."

The crowd murmured in surprise. Lance, who had been leaning against the edge of the room with his arms crossed and a bored expression, suddenly perked up with renewed interest.

Wait—that Charizard, the one that can re-evolve, was abandoned by this pretty boy? Is this guy out of his mind? How could anyone abandon a Pokémon with that kind of potential?

He’s probably mistaken. Just because he saw a shiny Charmander’s evolution once, he thinks it’s his.

Brook continued: "Over the following days, I kept watching. And the more I watched, the more I felt your Charizard was the one I released. Because after every battle, it scratches its thigh. So I was hoping you’d bring it out tonight so I could see it up close."

Scratches its thigh after battle... Rio recalled that Charizard did indeed have a habit of scratching its thigh after fights.

"May I?" Brook pressed.

Rio studied the smiling pretty boy with a slight frown. His intuition told him Brook was trying to play some underhanded game. But in the face of overwhelming strength, all clever schemes were useless.

Two seconds later, with a flash of light, Charizard appeared before the crowd.

"Roaar~" Charizard let out a long roar. Its overwhelming pressure made the Pokémon of every guest in the room cower in fear.

It’s gotten even stronger, Lance noted from the edge of the crowd. This was the first time he’d seen the Charizard up close since arriving at the Indigo Conference. Its presence was clearly far greater than when they’d first met.

"Little Gold—is that you?" Brook looked at Charizard with a nostalgic expression. Charizard stared back coldly.

"Oh—I shouldn’t call you Little Gold anymore. Maybe Little Black is more fitting now." Brook reached out to touch it. Charizard stepped back.

"It seems you’re still upset about me releasing you." Brook’s face showed a hint of hurt. "But that’s okay. Seeing you happy and with a good trainer—that makes me happy too."

What a performance—calling abandonment "releasing." Do you think Charizard can’t talk, so you can just make up whatever you want? Rio watched silently, amused, waiting to see how the act would unfold.

"Brook—what made you release that Charizard?" a guest asked.

"Well—I invested so much into it. Potions, top-tier instructors, almost everything I had. Yet it lost every single battle. So in the end, I had no choice but to let it go." Brook sighed. "Maybe I just wasn’t meant to be its trainer."

What a load of nonsense. You lost everything gambling—not because of a Charmander. And I seriously doubt you gave it potions or hired quality instructors... Rio’s eyes narrowed.

Is this really the same Charizard I fought? Lance was equally skeptical. Even with the best training, you can’t turn a chicken into a phoenix.

"Brook—don’t blame yourself. You invested so much, and it let you down. That’s a matter of talent. Unlike your current ’Little Red’—you’ve trained it beautifully, and it’s made it to the finals. The championship is practically yours," another guest chimed in.

Rio looked at the speaker and suspected he was either a plant or a sycophant.

"You might be right," Brook accepted the compliment, then turned to Charizard. "But seeing Little Gold doing well now makes me happy. I just want to ask, Mr. Rio—if you lose tomorrow, you won’t abandon it, will you? That would make me feel guilty."

Rio frowned. So that’s the game—trying to drive a wedge between us. Using words to trigger Charizard’s past trauma of being abandoned at the underground arena. Hoping it’ll be emotionally affected and make mistakes tomorrow.

Cunning little bastard.

But it won’t matter. Against overwhelming power, even if Charizard makes mistakes, it’ll still crush you.

"Don’t worry—abandoning a Pokémon at an underground arena is something only a beast would do. I’m not that kind of person," Rio said with a smile.

Throughout the entire tournament, Charizard had shown less than thirty percent of its true power. It had never used Sacred Fire, and it had never Mega Evolved. Just one of those would make even an Elite Four member kneel and sing.

That includes you, Lame—no, Lance.

If Charizard were to lose, it could only happen if it deliberately disobeyed and attacked itself. But was that possible?

If that happened and Rio hadn’t noticed any signs, he’d have wasted his psychology degree. All abnormal behavior has warning signs—it doesn’t come out of nowhere. If it does, you’ve only yourself to blame for not paying attention.

And as Rio expected, when he looked back, Charizard’s expression showed little reaction. No matter what Brook said, it neither grew angry nor pained—as if the story had nothing to do with it.

Good—Charizard’s mindset is strong. That’s the mark of a true champion, Rio thought approvingly. It meant Charizard was truly letting go, and just wanted one clean victory over its former trainer. As expected of my ace—unshaken no matter what comes.

On the other side, Brook’s expression flickered—he hadn’t expected Rio to know that the Charmander had been abandoned at an underground arena.

Just then, a scream came from the food area behind the guests. Everyone turned—and saw a Munchlax sprawled across a service cart, devouring a life-sized cake shaped like Brook and his Charizard. Most of Charizard’s body was already gone, and Brook’s head hadn’t been spared.

"Whose Munchlax is this?!" Brook’s elderly patron demanded angrily. She’d ordered that cake specially for her boyfriend.

"Sorry—mine," Rio said, clearing his throat. A bit embarrassing, but Munchlax—well done.

"Ma’am, how much do I owe you? Should I pay for it?" Rio blinked innocently at the wealthy older woman. But his address—"ma’am"—seemed to catch her off guard.

"Oh, I’m sorry—I forgot you’re almost at the end of your life. You probably don’t care about a little money like this." Rio waved dismissively. "In that case, I’ll just have Munchlax say a sincere sorry."

"I wish you and Brook a hundred years of happiness, and may you have many children together. Not to be born on the same day, but to die on the same day."

By the third line, the old woman’s anger had noticeably softened. She felt this young man really knew how to speak—he’d touched her heart. Her greatest wish now was to have someone to be buried with.

Brook, on the other hand, was fuming. What do you mean, "not to be born on the same day, but to die on the same day"? I’ve been waiting for this old woman to kick the bucket, and you’re cursing me to die with her? After all the years of suffering I’ve endured, I haven’t even enjoyed the benefits yet!

"That’s fine—the cake can be remade. I really don’t mind the money," the old woman said with a smile, waving Rio off. "Your Munchlax is well-fed. I’ll have the kitchen prepare more for it."

"Thank you—you’re truly kind and beautiful," Rio said. "Brook is incredibly lucky to have found you. ’In heaven, they are like two winged birds; on earth, they are like two joined branches’—that’s the perfect description of you two."

"Winged birds? Joined branches? What do those mean?"

"Winged birds are two birds with only one wing each. They are born together and die together—symbolizing eternal union. Joined branches are two trees whose trunks have grown together—symbolizing a love that endures beyond death."

The old woman’s eyes sparkled. She suddenly found Rio incredibly charming. Brook, meanwhile, was practically vibrating with rage, wanting nothing more than to tear Rio’s mouth apart. There was no way he wanted to be stuck with this old woman for eternity.

But the moment she looked at him, he instantly suppressed his fury. "Brook—what do you think of what Rio said?" she asked.

"Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!" Brook laughed, though his eyes screamed murder. What a venomous tongue.

"I agree—he’s so eloquent. If I hadn’t met you, I might have fallen for him instead. His words are like honey," the old woman said.

Please—I can’t handle your affection. That’s beyond me... Rio’s eyelid twitched.

"Rio—release all your other Pokémon too. Let them eat their fill. Tonight’s dinner is on me. And go to the kitchen and describe those ’winged birds’ and ’joined branches’ to the pastry chef—I’ll give you 500,000 League coins," she added.

"You got it—I’ll make sure you two are united forever," Rio said eagerly. See? I told you coming tonight was the right choice.

The next day.

The final stage.

Rio and Brook stepped onto the battlefield amid thunderous applause.

"Charizard! Charizard! Charizard!"

The entire stadium chanted for the Charizards. Everyone knew both finalists had a Charizard ace, and they were eager to see them clash from the very start.

But the most nervous people in the stands weren’t the fans—they were Aria and Saurion, who cared less about the match’s outcome and more about who might attack the venue and take Rio’s life.

Lance, in the guest booth, also felt uneasy. He was confident Rio could win—but the real issue was the potential emergency strike today. Whether the match would even finish was anyone’s guess.

He really thinks he can win with his Charizard, Lance thought, watching Rio send out Charizard—and then Brook sending out his own. If I were Brook, I’d hold my Charizard back and lead with a Water-type to wear down Rio’s Charizard and test its limits. I’d never be foolish enough to clash head-on.

On the battlefield, Rio scanned Brook’s Charizard with his system. It was Level 60, Elite Four talent.

No wonder he’s confident. If his opponent weren’t me, he might actually have won this tournament, Rio mused. Should Charizard one-shot it? Or give it a proper thrashing?

Ah—the burden of power.

Charizard turned and let out a growl at Rio, a faint wisp of purple flame curling from its mouth. Rio understood immediately: Charizard wanted to end it in one strike with Sacred Fire.

So be it.

Moments later, as the announcer’s impassioned commentary echoed and the referee’s flag dropped, both trainers gave their commands:

"Charizard—Sacred Fire!"

"Little Red—Flamethrower!"

"Roaar~"

"Roaar~"

Both Charizards roared, necks tilting back—orange flames gathering in one, purple flames in the other, causing the surrounding temperature to spike.

The next second, both flames shot out simultaneously. Orange and purple collided midair. The purple flame overwhelmed the orange in an instant—as if it had encountered no resistance at all. Moments later, Brook’s Charizard let out a pained cry. Two seconds of burning were all it took—it collapsed, completely incapacitated.

Brook was stunned. The audience was stunned. Even the announcer was stunned.

Only Lance remained alert—shooting to his feet in shock:

"How is that possible?! How can that Charizard use Sacred Fire?!"