Seeing what was happening, Reiji immediately recalled Rhyhorn.

Then he tossed two hundred thousand onto the field—conceding the match.

With Rhyhorn refusing orders, there was no way to keep fighting. Until he figured out what was going on, he wouldn't send it back out.

It was Reiji's first loss here—and all because Rhyhorn wouldn't listen. He honestly couldn't tell why it had acted so out of character.

Up on the platform, Reiji released Rhyhorn again and asked, "Rhyhorn, why didn't you Dig just now?"

"Rhuu… rhuu…" Rhyhorn snorted twice at him, clearly displeased. Reiji couldn't parse the sounds, but he could see it was unhappy with his command.

He even took out a mineral lure. The big lug refused—too mad to be bribed, unmoved by treats. That actually surprised Reiji.

So it had that much pride. He set the lure by its mouth and started stripping off the Leech Seed vines.

"I get it. I shouldn't have told you to Dig," Reiji sighed. Now he understood why it barreled straight in under Bullet Seed instead of dodging.

It wasn't that it couldn't evade—it just refused to. It was angry that he'd told it to run, and that's why it ignored him and charged.

"Alright, don't be mad. I won't tell you to dodge next time. Crash in however you like." Reiji rubbed the stubborn head. It had eaten Bullet Seed to the face and its skull was still fine—hard as ever.

He should've realized sooner. This big lug loved ramming trees and didn't fear recoil—why would it duck a mere Grass attack?

The damage was real, sure—but Rhyhorn simply didn't care. Reiji finally recognized that fearlessness.

"Reiji, what's up with Rhyhorn?" Skinny asked, watching him knead Rhyhorn's shoulders.

"It's fine. Small stuff," Reiji shook his head.

Skinny didn't pry. It was his first time seeing Reiji lose—and Rhyhorn disobey—so it rattled him. The usually docile lug had gone rogue mid-battle; he wondered what Reiji would do.

The crowd reacted differently. The gamblers went feral—since they'd bet on Reiji to win, they spewed insults the instant he lost. Classic behavior.

Other trainers also revised their view: maybe Reiji wasn't some unstoppable ace; maybe his Poliwhirl was the strong one. Yesterday's win over Electabuzz could've been "circumstances," and this Rhyhorn was obviously unstable.

With the glow of that five-million spectacle fading, most decided he was just a bit-above-average trainer. Those who'd seen all three of his Pokémon figured he was "veteran tier" at best: Poliwhirl well-raised, Rhyhorn a mess.

Interest cooled. Only the ones who wanted a paid match still itched to try—after all, the Breloom trainer had just walked off with a hundred thousand. If Reiji sent out the unruly Rhyhorn again, it would be easy money.

"You over there—there's one match left. You in or not?"

"In. Why wouldn't I be?" Reiji had come to let Rhyhorn acclimate to real battles. The disobedience was a hiccup; now that he knew why, he could adjust.

The lug's habit of bull-rushing wouldn't be fixed in a day. It would take time.

"Rhyhorn, listen. Eat the lure and we'll fight one more. I won't ask you to dodge this time—trust me once more, okay?" He tilted Rhyhorn's head and shoved the mineral lure into its mouth.

The taste got through. Rhyhorn grudgingly chewed; with Reiji's calming pats, the anger ebbed. It even licked Reiji's palm when it finished.

After soothing it like a kid, Reiji recalled Rhyhorn, then sent it back to the field.

"He's doing it again—nice!"

"Rhyhorn again? I'm taking the ten grand for sure this time."

"I'm betting against him now. He hasn't even tamed that thing."

"Yeah, I lost a chunk because of him… blast it…"

"Go, Victreebel!" After some murmuring, a trainer on the opposite platform chose Victreebel—copying the previous Grass matchup that had just won cash.

"Victreebel, huh." Reiji thought of Chlorophyll. Under this bright sun, it would be fast. Still, that was minor. He raised a hand. "Pay first. You take the first move."

The money hit the ground; Pelipper fetched it. Victreebel attacked at once.

"Victreebel, Razor Leaf!"

"Rhyhorn, Double-Edge." Reiji had promised not to dodge. Losing a hundred thousand didn't matter; the lesson did. Let Rhyhorn feel the cost of hard-headed charges; it would learn when to evade.

Rhyhorn blasted off again, body flaring, plowing through the slicing leaves and slamming Victreebel hard, sending it skidding.

It happened so fast the other trainer froze. The charge was so fierce he forgot to call a dodge—Victreebel took the hit full on.

"Rhyhorn, Ice Fang." No mercy. Against Victreebel, Ice Fang or Fire Fang were the choices; Ice Fang was the sharper one here.

Rhyhorn's fangs thickened, sheathed in glittering frost. A white chill steamed from its jaws as it lunged at the Victreebel tangled on the wire fence.

Too fast. Before Victreebel fully cleared the fog in its head, Ice Fang bit down—freezing it solid. A ten-percent freeze—and Victreebel hit the bad roll.

"Victreebel, break out and counter!" the trainer shouted, kicking himself. If not for that one lapse, it wouldn't have been frozen.

Victreebel shattered the ice with a wrenching heave, but it was shivering, body numb.

Reiji didn't waste the opening. "Rhyhorn, Horn Attack—finish it!"

Rhyhorn thundered forward again and gored Victreebel mid-stagger.

This time there was no luck left—Victreebel smashed into the wire and blacked out.

Another win for Rhyhorn—taken right through Razor Leaf.

Reiji recalled it, then let it out on the platform to check that famously hard head. He ran a hand over it; there were a few dents, but no injury. It had tanked Razor Leaf. Unexpected.

Maybe the lug's head-first momentum had overwhelmed the slashes; Water had been manageable—but Grass too?

A pleasant surprise. The two "big" weaknesses weren't so big for this one.

Reiji recalled Rhyhorn again and beckoned Skinny. Time to go. Three matches today and 2 wins, not bad.

He was happy; the gamblers who'd gone all-in on Victreebel were not. They'd dropped two in a row. Not Reiji's problem.

Don't bet, don't lose—how hard is that?

More importantly, he'd defused attention: he'd downplayed Poliwhirl's power yesterday, and today the unruly Rhyhorn muddied the waters. Fewer prying eyes, fewer headaches.

That's the price of battling in public; unless he stayed in the shadows and never fought, trouble would come. He knew that and was prepared.

No one stopped them this time as Reiji and Skinny left. The dais was quickly claimed by others, and the gamblers, after a few dirty looks, swarmed the next match to keep the money rolling.

"Skinny, where'd Chubbs go?" Reiji asked. They'd all been together at noon.

"He headed home earlier," Skinny said. Chubbs had watched part of Reiji's fight, but left halfway—if he didn't go home by six, he'd get chewed out.

Reiji just nodded. "Lead the way to the club. I'm signing up for the league in five days."

"You are? I thought you'd skip it!" Skinny lit up.

"This one, I can play." He didn't add that he wasn't chasing the title—probably not even aiming for the knockout rounds. No point in going all-out for this.

They hadn't reached the club when a slick, plump stranger in a tight suit and glossy slicked-back hair waddled into their path—oily smile, arms spread.

Reiji and Skinny traded a look. Neither knew him.

"Haha, apologies for the abrupt hello. Call me Mr. A. Here's my card. I'm here to discuss a little business…"

"No interest," Reiji said flatly. Unknown types got no time.

Skinny shadowed him; if Reiji ignored the guy, so would he.

"Gentlemen, it's simple—during your battles, lose according to my signal. Lots of customers have been wagering on you…"

Reiji stopped and fixed the man with a look. "Throw matches, is it?"

"Haha, don't say 'throw.' Just a little money-making." The greasy man rubbed his hands, jowls bunching into a merchant's grin.

"How much per match?" Reiji loathed gamblers—especially the smarmy kind.

"Ten percent cut. How's that?"

"Too little," Reiji said. Risk far outweighed reward.

"Wait—thirty percent. That's my ceiling." Mr. A slid in front of him again.

"Forget it. You decide how much you 'made' anyway," Reiji waved him off. There was zero transparency. They'd name whatever number and he'd eat the blame.

"Ah, don't be hasty, friend. We split only if there's a profit. No profit, nothing to split—right?" Mr. A winked.

"I only fight three times a day. Ask me tomorrow," Reiji said, brushing past. "Skinny, let's go."

Mr. A didn't follow. He sensed Reiji might bite—attitude softening a touch. Tomorrow, he'd try again, confident he could close the deal.

(End of Chapter)

[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]

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