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In the end, Sato gave up on that sowhat irresponsible fleeting idea. He was already in the Top 60 — if he could just defeat five more opponents, he would earn three Technical Machines worth at least 20 million PokeDollars in total, items that were incredibly hard to obtain.
Moreover, he had already agreed to Daisy's request for a battle. He couldn't just ignore that. Not long ago, he'd owed Professor Oak a massive favor — and now to stand up his beloved granddaughter? That would be far too ungracious.
Another key reason Sato chose to stay was exactly what Whitney had analyzed earlier. So malicious people online were taking advantage of his victory over Clair to stir up hostile rumors targeting him, the Johto League, and the Dragon Master clan.
Sato himself could completely ignore these malicious rumors — he had no problem doing that — but for prominent forces like the Johto League and the Dragon Master clan, it wasn't the sa. If he slipped away quietly now, wouldn't that just be confirming what the troublemakers were saying?
He could already imagine it: if he suddenly left for no reason, those spreading the rumors would seize the chance to trumpet their earlier claims, saying Sato fled because he couldn't withstand the "threats" of the Johto League and the Dragon clan.
At that point, no matter what he said, it would be impossible to clear his na. He'd be caught in a trap — a very tight one — and end up branded an enemy of both the Johto League and the prominent Dragon clan.
Thinking of those dangerous consequences, Sato decisively crushed any thought of quitting. He knew that in the coming matches, he not only had to fight seriously, but win beautifully — only then could he shatter those online rumors without lifting a finger against them.
Half an hour later, once his Pokémon had eaten and drunk their fill, Sato bid farewell to Daisy and Whitney. It was just past 9 p.m.
"Night has fallen… ti for another round of justice."
Stepping out of the restaurant, Sato looked at the dazzling city lights before glancing at the nearby shadowy alleys, his expression turning serious.
He slipped into a pitch-black side alley. When he erged again, he had transford into the sa mysterious caped, masked figure who had road Goldenrod's streets and alleys the night before, dispensing justice.
Tonight, once more, Sato prowled through the city's corners and thoroughfares, sweeping away any cri he encountered.
This ti, however, he moved far more stealthily. Many criminals were taken down before they even saw him or his Pokémon — and when they woke up, they were either in the police station or on their way there.
Because of his increased activity, word of this ddleso do-gooder began to spread among Goldenrod's remaining criminals. So of the stronger ones, thinking themselves above ordinary thugs, even rallied their resources to "teach him a lesson."
As a result, tonight wasn't as smooth as last night. Sato started encountering ambushes — and they were no joke.
The truth was, as long as human nature harbored greed and other vices, the darker side of society could never be fully erased. Cri had long since seeped into every corner of daily life.
In major international hubs like Goldenrod, the forces of cri were far more entrenched than in small towns. Many criminals had their own special information networks, and if the price was right, they could get intel even faster than the police.
Sato's vigilantism was like a stone thrown into the still waters of a dark lake — it drew the attention of Goldenrod's local underworld. This ti, when he moved again, they didn't remain silent.
"Hurry! That guy's over there! Boss says 50,000 PokeDollars each if we take him out!"
In a dim alley, a group of thugs with assorted weapons and Pokémon chased a caped, masked figure. At the front, a bald brute waved a gleaming machete as he yelled.
Hearing their leader, the rest of the gang whooped and pushed forward, their Pokémon charging with them.
But the masked man was fast — too fast. Even after 20 minutes of pursuit in their ho turf, his speed hadn't flagged.
They'd tried sending faster Pokémon — Houndour, Golbat, Raticate — but before they could close in, a Heracross swooped down from above with a brutal Aerial Ace, smashing them aside.
If not for their numbers, and the fact the target still hadn't been reinforced by allies, their morale would have collapsed long ago.
At last, luck seed to turn. The masked intruder, clearly unfamiliar with Goldenrod's maze-like streets, ran straight into a dead-end alley.
"Hah~! Kid, you can really run! Go on, run so more if you've got the guts!"
"Finish him!"
Panting, the bald brute grinned viciously, raising his machete and signaling the gang to rush in for the kill.
"Raticate, use Hyper Fang!"
"Golbat, Air Cutter!"
"Houndour, Ember!"
The alley rang with shouted commands as their Pokémon attacked. In their experience, no one could survive such a concentrated barrage.
Perhaps it was the deep shadows of the alley, or their fixation on the masked man — but none of them noticed the huge silhouette standing silently behind him.
The mont they launched their attacks, a pair of crimson eyes snapped open in the darkness.
[If you're so eager to kill … then you'd better be ready to die yourselves. Farewell.]
The voice echoed inside each thug's mind — and then a pulsing sphere of poisonous energy shot from the shadows, eting their Pokémon and their attacks head-on.
In the next instant, it detonated. The terrifying energy shredded everything in its path.
A deafening explosion rocked the dead-end alley, drowning every other sound. Fire roared outward, engulfing the narrow space.
Minutes later, police sirens wailed. Officers and firefighters sward the scene — but by the ti they'd put out the flas, all that remained were charred remnants.
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