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Chapter 150: No Respect?
🕑 Added 2025-08-20 14:46:46 +0000 UTCChapter 150: No Respect?
Although Mason Martel was the ultimate trainer legacy, Basalt found that he was actually a pretty decent guy. He wasn't arrogant or prejudiced like Basalt had expected. In fact, he was not only approachable but also a bit of a... chatterbox.
During the flight, Basalt learned a lot of insider information he never would have had access to otherwise. For example, the top three trainers from Centralis City—Brendan, Iris, and Mason himself—were all good friends from the same school, and their skill levels were comparable. Mason wasn't considered a favorite to win simply because he didn't care about the tournament prizes and didn't want to compete with Iris and Brendan, so he had effectively bowed out.
His strongest Pokémon wasn't his Magneton, but a Riolu on the verge of evolution with exceptional control over its Aura. Not only that, but Mason also revealed that Brendan's ace wasn't his Rotom, but a Morpeko. Of course, that was just the current intel. As far as Mason knew, Brendan's Tynamo was also close to evolving, and it had the potential to become his strongest Pokémon overnight.
"An Eelektrik, huh?" Basalt thought, but he wasn't too concerned. Once his Drilbur evolved into Excadrill, he feared no one.
"So the semi-finals are you against Orville from Olivine City, and Brendan against Iris, right?" Mason said, crossing his legs and bouncing his foot impatiently. "I'm guessing Brendan won't go all out, either. He'll probably throw the match to let Iris win. I saw through that kid's plan a long time ago..."
Basalt felt a headache coming on. Hundreds of thousands of high school seniors across the Jiangnan region fought tooth and nail for a chance that these legacy kids were casually giving away to each other. It was a classic case of the rich getting richer.
"So, that means my opponent in the finals will almost certainly be Iris's Gardevoir," Basalt thought, his eyes narrowing. The Embrace Pokémon was a psychic queen, capable of learning an explosive number of status moves. And with her mother being a Gym Leader-level trainer, Iris had access to any move she wanted. Even if Drilbur evolved, Basalt wasn't completely confident of victory.
Seeing Basalt frowning in thought, Mason clapped him on the shoulder. "Good luck, man! It's a shame I can't be there to cheer you on. Once I escape this prison, I'll introduce you to Brendan and Iris." He sighed dramatically.
For Basalt, coming to the El Mutun Mega-Mine was a golden opportunity. For Mason, it was a punishment. To atone for his "crime" of throwing the match, Master Martel had given him an ultimatum. He wouldn't be allowed to return home until three conditions were met:
His Riolu had to evolve into Lucario.
His Magneton had to evolve into Magnezone.
Both Pokémon had to reach the advanced tier.
It would be at least half a year before Mason could leave. It was clearly his father's plan to make him train hard overseas and mature a bit before starting university.
The plane landed and the cabin door opened. Led by Master Martel, the group disembarked. On the tarmac, nearly a hundred soldiers in uniform stood in neat rows. Their leader was a powerfully built man, nearly six-foot-three, with a colonel's insignia on his shoulder.
"Colonel Tiger, reporting to Master Martel," the man said, snapping to attention and saluting respectfully.
Here, the hierarchy was clear. An ordinary soldier was an advanced-tier trainer. An officer was professional-level. A colonel was Gym Leader-level. And a general was Master-level. Although Master Martel wasn't in the military, his status as a Pokémon Master was just as high. More importantly, he was here to assume command of this very outpost. Even as a colonel, Tiger was under Martel's jurisdiction. The gap between a Master and a Gym Leader was simply that large.
The El Mutun Mega-Mine, while technically on the border between two remote southern regions, was a place of immense international importance. The world's Five Great Powers all had a military presence here, "helping" to maintain order under the banner of the World Pokémon League.
"At ease, Colonel," Master Martel nodded.
After the introductions, the group was escorted by vehicle into the mine complex. From a distance, the mine looked like a colossal crater, with tiered levels like rice paddies spiraling down its sides. Each level was dotted with countless cave entrances leading deep into the earth. Inside, machines worked tirelessly to extract ore, which was then loaded onto massive trucks that moved like ants, carrying their cargo to be smelted.
A winding road led up the side of the crater to a massive high-rise building at the top: the El Mutun Camp, the operational hub for the entire mine. Anyone who wanted to enter the caves, whether for mining or training, had to register here.
The automatic doors slid open, and Colonel Tiger led them inside. The lobby was bustling with trainers from all over the world, a diverse mix of people chatting, relaxing, or sparring. The Pokémon they used were varied, many of which were not native to Basalt's home region, though most were Steel-types like Ferrothorn, Escavalier, and Durant. It was clear that the trainers here were strong; professional-level trainers were everywhere.
When they saw Colonel Tiger and his soldiers, however, the chatter in the room died down.
"Rossev, I need two of your best Level 3 caves, the ones with the richest Steel-type energy. And make it quick," Colonel Tiger's voice boomed, even louder than Mr. Shane's.
"Yes, Colonel, right away," said Rossev, a middle-aged local man with curly hair. He scrambled to his computer. He knew better than to mess with the military personnel from the Five Great Powers.
"Colonel, I've just checked," Rossev said a moment later, wiping sweat from his brow. "The seven best Level 3 caves are all currently occupied..."
"Occupied?" Tiger's eyes flashed. "Then you'll ask them to leave. Refund their fees in full and give them extra compensation. Do I really need to teach you how to do your job?"
"No, no, of course not!" Rossev bowed. The Five Great Powers had priority access. It was an unwritten rule. He turned his computer screen towards them. "Colonel, which two caves would you like? I'll go and... persuade them."
The screen showed the occupants of the seven caves. They were trainers from Unova, Sinnoh, Galar, and other regions.
"We'll take those two," Colonel Tiger said, pointing to the caves occupied by trainers from a small nation known for its competitive esports scene and a Mediterranean region.
"Understood! Give me ten minutes," Rossev said, secretly relieved. Since the Colonel had made the choice, he could just say he was following orders. It would make his job easier and keep him out of trouble.
Basalt was dumbfounded. The military from his home region was this aggressive? On foreign soil, they were ordering people around without a second thought, and with a practiced ease that suggested it was a common occurrence. And the camp manager was just smiling and nodding, acting more subservient than if he were dealing with his own father.
Ten minutes later, Rossev returned, his face a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. "Colonel, the trainer from the Mediterranean region has agreed to vacate. But the other one... not only did he refuse, he threw me out."
"What?" Colonel Tiger slammed his hand on the counter, enraged.
"Colonel, calm down." Just as Tiger was about to explode, Master Martel, who had been silent until now, finally spoke.
"You're Rossev, correct?" he said, placing a calming hand on the Colonel's shoulder before turning to the manager with a placid smile. "My name is Martel, and I'm a reasonable man. If our friend from the other nation is refusing to cooperate, why don't you take me to him? Let me go and... have a word with them."
His voice was quiet, but the killing intent laced within it sent a shiver down Rossev's spine. Still, he didn't dare refuse. Anyone who could casually restrain Colonel Tiger had to be a major figure. Seeing the arrogant look on the other trainers' faces earlier, Rossev figured this might be for the best. He was just a spectator; let the big shots handle it.
Rossev led them to the occupied cave. It was a massive cavern, its walls gleaming with black, metallic ore. Standing guard at the entrance was a man in a black suit. Seeing them approach, he frowned and threw out a Poké Ball. A massive, armored behemoth—an Aggron—appeared, blocking the way.
The man spoke in slightly stilted, formal language. "Gentlemen, my young master is the son of the president of the Jinsei Corporation. I advise you not to make a mistake."
"Jinsei Corporation?" Rossev's face paled. It was one of the largest and most powerful conglomerates in the world, a corporate empire with immense wealth and political influence, known to have deep ties to the Unovan government. The president's son was a very important person.
But while the name might scare Rossev, it meant nothing to the others. Basalt saw Master Martel let out a cold laugh. He tossed a red and white Poké Ball into the air, his eyes filled with a chilling, murderous light.
