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High above in the night sky, Sato, riding on his Crobat, looked down at the busy police and fire crews as they finally extinguished the blaze. Once he confird that the only casualties were those unlucky thugs, he used telepathy to instruct Crobat to carry him away.
Sato was exhausted. He was the "mysterious vigilante hero" who had just been chased for over twenty minutes by a swarm of gangsters. At first, he'd thought he could shake these leech-like pursuers — and he hadn't intended to kill them.
But the thugs had ignored his rcy, hounding him like rabid dogs while shouting about chopping him to pieces.
Against such hardheaded enemies, Sato had no choice but to wipe them out. Yes, it might anger the force behind them, but he wasn't too concerned — they had already tried to have soone else do their dirty work. Why should he be polite?
Besides, he had given their n more than twenty minutes to back off. That was courtesy enough. If these idiots didn't value their lives, what could he do?
Sato figured that unless the boss behind them was a total fool, they would understand his position.
Unfortunately, he was starting to realize that their boss might not be all that smart… or perhaps they had simply never taken him — a lone vigilante — seriously from the start.
"If I were you," Sato said coldly, "the mont I saw those fools get killed, I'd turn around and walk away. I'd tell my boss not to ss with , then find an excuse to leave town. That way, maybe you'd live longer.
"If you want to survive… give a reason not to kill you."
On the rooftop of a tall building, the black-caped, masked Sato stared at the young man before him — a one-eyed figure with an eyepatch, a face covered in scars, and an aura that scread "dangerous" to anyone who looked his way.
In truth, Sato could feel it — a faint but real mortal threat. Even Clair hadn't made him feel this way.
It wasn't unfamiliar to him; during the final days of his survival test on the mysterious island, he'd felt it often from the surviving Team Rocket mbers. It ant this man's strength was inferior to Sato's, but if Sato killed him, he'd pay a bloody price for it.
The man had been careless, though…. coming alone had given Sato a perfect opening to take him out easily.
The threat at his back was clear enough that the one-eyed man didn't dare move. Cold sweat poured down his face — no, his whole body — because hovering less than three ters behind him was a massive Crobat, its four wings glowing with a deep violet light, ready to strike at any mont.
At first, the one-eyed man had looked down on Sato. He'd noticed that Sato hadn't killed the thugs chasing him right away, and he'd t plenty of "soft-hearted" types like that — people who usually ended up with miserable fates.
But when Sato had, in an instant, slaughtered every single thug and their Pokémon without giving them a chance to beg, then casually destroyed the evidence in a blazing fire, the man realized he'd badly misjudged him.
By then it was too late. Coming here alone had put him in a life-or-death predicant.
"You're strong," the man said, trying to keep his voice steady, "but don't think you can take on the Viper Mafias alone.
"If you kill , you're declaring war on us. You won't leave Goldenrod alive. The Viper Mafias will never let you go.
"My boss sent to tell you — you're not to operate in the Eastern District again. Otherwise, next ti it won't be a bunch of idiots chasing you… it'll be people like ."
He knew one wrong word would get him killed, so he forced his pounding heart to calm and feigned composure.
Any sizable underworld organization had "cleaners" — specialists sent to eliminate destabilizing elents in their territory. The one-eyed man was one such cleaner, a senior enforcer for the Viper Mafias, the dominant force in Goldenrod's Eastern District. He answered only to the boss and underboss.
And he wasn't lying — the Viper Mafias had over thirty senior enforcers like him, plus several top-tier ones who were even stronger.
For the past two nights, Sato's activities in the Eastern District hadn't directly targeted the Mafia's business — he'd focused on lone criminals. But his vigilantism had still thrown the local underworld into turmoil.
As the undisputed king of the Eastern District's underworld, the Viper Mafias had no obligation to protect independent criminals. But if they let Sato's justice crusade continue unchecked, their prestige would collapse.
If that happened, their dominance over the Eastern District would be seriously threatened.
That was why the boss had decided to "teach Sato a lesson" — one he would never forget.
Unfortunately for them, Sato's strength far exceeded expectations. Over twenty regular henchn were gone in an instant, and now even one of their trusted senior enforcers was cornered.
"So, you're Viper Mafias," Sato said, his brow furrowing beneath the mask. "That explains the big mouth. But your boss should know — I haven't touched your people.
"As for tonight — you struck first.
"You do your thing, I do mine. No overlap. Isn't that better for everyone?"
The truth was, Sato had already considered that his actions might upset the local underworld. He had chosen the Eastern District precisely because the Viper Mafias was the weakest of Goldenrod's native major factions — and they were already facing pressure from Team Rocket.
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