Chapter 40: Have You Ever Been One-Shotted?
After easily winning the first match, logically, Basalt should have stayed to observe the other contestants' battles to understand the Pokémon and battle styles of his potential next opponents.
However, the sun was just too brutal. After being exposed for just a little while, Basalt couldn't take it anymore. To protect his fair complexion and leave himself a way out, Basalt, after notifying the staff, ran off to buy a hat.
According to the tournament schedule, there would be an hour-long break between the first and second rounds to allow the Pokémon to recover their stamina. But Drilbur had only used Sand Tomb and hadn't even been touched by its opponent. Its stamina loss was practically zero. So, he could afford to be a little reckless. No need to panic.
Outside the gymnasium, there was an accessory shop selling hats right next door, but Basalt picked and chose and couldn't find one he was satisfied with.
"Sigh, why are they all so ugly? They can't handle my charisma at all."
Looking at the hat in his hand, Basalt shook his head and sighed. A small accessory shop, with a prominent small-commodity vibe—what kind of good-looking hats could they possibly have?
Unfortunately, time was limited, and the weather was truly harsh. Basalt could only pick a hat that wasn't obviously ugly and put it on for the time being.
He then bought a bottle of iced cola from the small shop next door, taking the opportunity to enjoy their air conditioning for a while. Seeing that it was about time, Basalt slowly made his way back to field number 8.
At this point, only 3 contestants remained at field number 8. Including Basalt, there were 4 in total. The eliminated contestants had clearly already left.
"This is so cruel," Basalt shook his head, then suddenly noticed that contestant number 1, the Spearow trainer—a young man whose skin was flushed red from the sun—was grinning at him.
"Are we opponents in the second round?" Basalt was stunned for a moment.
The young man nodded and smiled. "You've got some bad luck, running into me. My Spearow is a Flying-type, and your Drilbur is a Ground-type. Flying is immune to Ground. Your journey in this competition is probably coming to an end right here."
A declaration of victory? Or perhaps, psychological warfare? It felt a little childish.
Basalt beckoned to him and asked in a low voice, "Have you ever been one-shotted?"
"What?" The young man didn't seem to hear clearly, a strange look on his face.
"I said! Have you ever been one-shotted? You know, the experience of being taken out by someone in a single move, losing the ability to battle instantly?"
Fearing the young man wouldn't understand, Basalt carefully explained what "one-shotted" meant.
At this point, even if the young man were an idiot, he would have understood what Basalt meant. The opponent was actually declaring that he would one-shot him?
"One-shot! You think you can?" The young man's face was filled with anger.
He had seen arrogant people before, but never this arrogant!
Basalt smiled. "Yes, me. I'll do my best to arrange it for you."
The young man, who had originally intended to disrupt his opponent's mentality, was ultimately defeated in front of a master of posturing. Not only did he fail to achieve his intended goal, but his own mentality was disrupted by Basalt.
For the rest of the time, he kept clenching his fists and muttering to himself, clearly having a mental breakdown.
"Contestants number 1 and 3, please enter the field."
After another short break, the staff and referee under the giant parasol began their work again.
Under the glare of contestant number 1, Basalt and the young man walked to their designated positions and simultaneously released their Pokémon.
"Chari~" (^ω^)
Drilbur was as flamboyant as ever, flexing its muscles. Basalt sometimes suspected that the body of a mole might actually house the soul of a Machoke.
"Spear~"
With a high-pitched cry, the opponent's Pokémon also flew out of its Poké Ball. Its sharp eyes were full of aggression. As expected of the little ruffian of the sky—Spearow.
Spearow was a bird-like Pokémon. Its back was black, its chest and belly were beige with fine stripes, and it had a messy brown crest on its head. Its beak was shaped like a bird of prey's. Its light pink feet had three claws, and its wings were pink with light pink edges.
"Both contestants, take your positions. Let the battle begin."
The moment the referee's words fell, the opponent's furious roar rang out. He had clearly been holding back his anger towards Basalt for a long time, and now it was time for the showdown.
"You think you can one-shot me? Dream on! Spearow…"
The young man pointed angrily at Basalt, just about to order his Spearow to attack with a long-range move, but on the field, Drilbur didn't even need Basalt's command. Five watermelon-sized rock projectiles had already formed around it and were hurtling out.
If you see a flying Pokémon, just throw rocks at it! The little mole had always kept this instruction from Basalt in its heart.
Swish! Swish! Swish! Swish! Swish!
The rock projectiles shot through the air, creating a whistling sound. They were incredibly fast!
"Spear~ Spear~"
Spearow was terrified. These rock projectiles were bigger than it was. If it got hit, who knows if its bones would be broken. Flapping its wings, Spearow prepared to dodge.
Spearow's speed talent was on point, and its flight speed was fast. Its weaknesses were its lack of endurance and its fragile defenses.
However, it had still underestimated Drilbur's Rock Tomb.
Perhaps because it had consumed the Smooth Rock Crystal, Drilbur's constitution had changed slightly. Its control and perception of Rock-type energy now seemed to surpass even its innate Ground-type. Seriously, without even needing to practice it deliberately, Drilbur's understanding of Rock Tomb improved every day, and the move's power naturally grew with it.
What were once head-sized rock projectiles were now the size of watermelons. And with its super-strong control over the projectiles, the current Drilbur could even manipulate one of the rocks to change its trajectory.
"Spear~"
Spearow flapped its wings, thinking it had narrowly avoided the rock projectiles, but it didn't expect one of them to suddenly change its angle slightly, re-targeting it.
BOOM!
The rock projectile hit its mark. Spearow was knocked out on the spot, its eyes swirling as it plummeted from the sky.
"Spearow…"
The young man's eyes widened as if he had seen a ghost.
His own Spearow… was really one-shotted!
The battle ended too quickly. From start to finish, it was no more than three seconds. Never mind the contestant; even the staff was completely baffled.
"This Drilbur has already learned Rock Tomb? What terrifying talent!" The staff member pushed up the glasses on his nose and praised, "Finally, someone who looks like an elite!"
"Spearow is unable to battle. The winner is… contestant number 3, Basalt!"
With the referee's ruling, the match was officially decided.
Watching the dejected contestant number 1 walk off the field, Basalt smiled and said, "Glad I could deliver. I arranged it for you."
"You…"
Tears welled up in contestant number 1's eyes.
I just said a few provocative words to you, tried a little psychological warfare. Now that I've already lost, you're still messing with me like this?
Although he really wanted to punch Basalt's handsome face, contestant number 1 ultimately held back and left the field dejectedly.
"Who is that person? That Drilbur is so strong!"
"I don't know. He doesn't seem to be from our First High, right?"
"I remember now. He seems to be from Second High. I saw a post about him on the forum. Because he's handsome, I have a deep impression of him."
…
The remaining two contestants instantly felt the pressure and began to talk to each other in low voices. It was clear they were both from First High and even knew each other.
Basalt pressed down the brim of his hat and walked off the field with a smile.
A successful show-off makes me very happy. I said I'd one-shot you, and I did. Are you convinced or not?
"The remaining two contestants, please enter the field and prepare."
The pace of the competition was fast. The two contestants who had just been chatting instantly fell silent.
Damn it, got carried away chatting. I almost forgot you were my opponent!
"Come on out, Bellsprout."
"Let's go, Bulbasaur."
The two contestants each released their Pokémon.
"The same typing? A Poison/Grass civil war?"
Basalt's eyebrows shot up, and his gaze finally settled on the Bulbasaur.
The Garlic Frog. This was the first time Basalt had seen a real-life starter Pokémon. Hearing the familiar "Bulba-saur" cry, he felt as if his youth had returned.
"Watch carefully. Our next opponent will be the winner of this match," Basalt said, flicking Drilbur's pink nose.
"Chari~"
Drilbur thumped its chest, signaling "no problem." Then, it began to watch the battle with a serious expression.
When it comes to fighting, the Mole Emperor is serious!