Chapter 59In the cave.

  Gigalith slowly and steadily opened the path ahead. Its massive, rock-hewn body exuded a silent, dependable strength.

  Tetsuya crouched low behind the Gigalith, keeping his profile small and movements careful.

  "Baaze..."

  Bziken padded softly behind them, whispering a question to its trainer in a low voice: why were they being so cautious? With its strength and Gigalith's combined, there should be no one in this area they needed to fear.

  "Steady. You need to be steady, got it? You're always diving in headfirst. Look at Gigalith—calm and solid. Be more like that."

  Tetsuya sighed. It baffled him. Why were his first two Pokemon so impulsive when he himself was the type to pn five steps ahead before even thinking about moving?

  If Bziken's restlessness could be chalked up to its Fire-type nature, what about Pidgeot? That bird never stopped talking, even while flying recon earlier. Tetsuya made a mental note to look into a muzzle binder.

  "Baaze..."

  Bziken boasted that with its current power, it could pin a Tyranitar or even a Nidoking-Nidoqueen couple to the ground and win.

  Tetsuya rolled his eyes. "And what if all three show up at once? We're here for payback. We take them one at a time, cleanly. Got it?"

  With a sharp jab, Bziken punched a Zubat that had swooped too close, sending it tumbling away. It nodded, "You're the boss. I just punch things. Thinking isn't really my job."

  Tetsuya chuckled but found it odd. Normally, wild Pokemon were cautious—they'd sense danger and back off. Yet these Zubat were diving at them like they were clueless. It felt off.

  He patted Gigalith’s sturdy side, signaling a halt, then pulled a location map from his backpack and checked it carefully. They were close. Very close.

  He had a score to settle with a certain Tyranitar. He just hoped it was still in its territory. Fortunately, Tyranitar weren’t migratory. They liked to settle in one pce and stay there.

  Of the trio—Tyranitar, Nidoking, and Nidoqueen—the Tyranitar was the strongest, but also the most isoted. That made it the easiest to target first.

  If the others joined in, it’d be a nightmare.

  They moved forward. Soon, Tetsuya reached the cave Bziken had once smashed through back when it was still a Combusken.

  The pce was a wreck.

  The rubble that once blocked the path had been blown wide open, stones scattered everywhere.

  "Hm. He’s about 1.8 meters tall, based on these footprints and their depth... weight’s likely around 110 kg. Seems stunted."

  He knelt down, examining the marks carefully.

  "This horn gouge here..."

  Out came the ruler. "Diameter: 10.2 cm. That’s four centimeters short of the male standard. Female, maybe? No wonder it’s smaller."

  He moved along the ground, measuring, poking, inspecting.

  "Left foot’s injured. Fixed muscle pattern. Doesn’t know how to box. But... this control over sand and stone—yeah, pretty standard for a Tyranitar. Their intelligence does jump after evolution."

  Tetsuya paused. "Does evolving from quadruped to biped really boost brain power? But aren’t Tyranitar supposed to have terrible memories...?"

  His muttering filled the cave.

  It was a habit. Ever since arriving in this world, Tetsuya had been a thinker and a talker. He was a prodigy, years ahead in studies compared to his peers. But that meant he’d never had friends his age who really understood him.

  Adults had worried at first, thinking he was antisocial. But they’d rexed when they saw how content he was by himself.

  Back then, he’d talk while reading or thinking aloud. Later he realized it annoyed people in quiet pces, like libraries. So when he was in the wild—where it was safe, where he was alone—he let his thoughts spill freely again.

  Now, he noticed something.

  He squatted by the cave wall and picked up a pinch of dark, dusty powder, sniffing it.

  "Odd... No energy signature, but looks like Moonstone powder. Did this guy... eat Moonstones and poop the rest out?"

  His gaze shifted to some unusual rock and soil formations.

  "Wasting perfectly good evolution stones like this—what a waste."

  He sighed. Moonstones had no use for Tyranitar, but their natural energy made them irresistible to Rock and Ground types.

  Many Pokemon did this. They saw stones like these as food. Their tough teeth could grind down the rocky shell of the stones, and the energy inside would just disperse into the wild.

  "Great," Tetsuya muttered. "Now I’ve got another reason to beat it—eco-education. Don’t waste resources."

  Mumbling to himself, he signaled to Bziken. They crept inside.

  Gigalith stayed behind, too heavy to move quietly. Any Gravity-based support would risk alerting their target. So it stayed outside, on guard.

  As expected, the dinosaur-like Pokemon y asleep with its back to the cave entrance.

  Its grey body rose and fell in slow, steady breaths. A sharp drill horn jutted from its head. Spines lined its back. A heavy armor pte shielded its neck. Its thick tail thudded softly as it twitched, even in sleep—a natural counterweight to its massive form.

  Tetsuya froze. He motioned a quiet retreat.

  "Down?"

  Bziken was confused. The big guy was asleep. Shouldn’t this be their perfect opening? Why not strike now?

  It could finish this fight in minutes.

  Why hold back?

  Tetsuya shook his head slightly to signal Bziken not to act just yet. He needed to adjust the pn.

  Originally, his strategy had been to unch a quick surprise attack, subdue the Tyrantrum, and toss it into Nibi Gym for safekeeping. Afterward, he’d slowly win it over with patience and care, eventually gaining its trust. It was the safest method, albeit a time-consuming one.

  After all, Tyrantrum was a remarkable Pokémon—highly sought after by miners and geologists alike. It excelled at breaking through rocky terrain, and contrary to its intimidating appearance, it didn’t have a particurly violent temperament.

  Furthermore, because of its te evolution—Tyrunt had to reach at least level 40 to evolve—wild Tyrantrum were rare. That high level alone was already a marker of its strength, making it even more difficult to catch.

  All things considered, its value on the bck market was substantial.

  Of course, Tetsuya had no interest in selling it off like some common commodity. That would be a waste. Handing it over to Nibi Gym for care and use made far more sense.

  The Gym had plenty of use for a Pokémon like Tyrantrum. Nibi City sat at the base of Mt. Moon, and many local industries required powerful Pokémon for excavation and protection. Even though the Gym was actively raising Pokémon of this type, demand still far outpaced supply.

  And once a Tyrantrum equipped itself with protective gear and underwent a transfer-evolution into a Super Tyrantrum (also known as Armored Tyrantrum), it became a top-tier tank and artillery unit.

  Tetsuya’s current team didn’t need that kind of role, and his resources wouldn’t allow for its full development anyway. But having it stashed at the Gym would strengthen his secondary lineup and provide a future option.

  As for funding, pcing a Pokémon with the Gym was an entirely different situation. As an invested civilian trainer and semi-affiliated disciple of Nibi Gym, Tetsuya enjoyed high levels of autonomy.

  The Gym, as an official Alliance-registered facility, was authorized to serve as a storage location for Pokémon. Trainers paid fees for this service, much like they would with professors or breeders.

  In addition, with the trainer’s consent, the Gym could put the deposited Pokémon to work—and any income generated (minus the upkeep fee) would be split with the trainer.

  Which meant if Tetsuya caught this Tyrantrum and handed it over, not only would he add a quality Pokémon to his reserves, but he’d also make some money on the side.

  Naturally, only certain Pokémon were suited for this kind of arrangement.

  Since battle coordination and emotional bonds were essential, no one would ever hand over their main team. These arrangements were typically limited to backup Pokémon from the second or third string.

  If Tetsuya hadn’t already bonded with his Gigalith, he might’ve considered adding Tyrantrum to his main team. Especially since its final evolution—Super Armored Tyrantrum—had excellent stats and potential. Equipping a high-quality evolution item could firmly pce it in the pseudo-Elite Four tier.

  Still, there was no reason to divide his focus. His Gigalith was already destined for greatness.

  The reason Tetsuya changed his mind and told Bziken to hold off was simple: Moon Stones.

  Moon Stones were usually found in small clusters—often three or four stones in a single pocket.

  Unlike other evolutionary stones, Moon Stones frequently formed in batches.

  If this Tyrantrum had stumbled upon just one and eaten it out of curiosity, it was possible others remained nearby.

  Tetsuya felt a flicker of excitement. Maybe this would turn out to be a real payday. But he tempered his hopes—most Pokémon didn’t hoard food unless it was in their nature. Except for Pokémon like Cinccino.

  Even if the odds were slim, it was worth tweaking the pn.

  So instead of rushing the attack, Tetsuya decided to wait for Tyrantrum to wake up naturally from its nap. Once it was awake, he’d challenge it in a proper battle. That way, the Pokémon might be willing to reveal the location of any remaining Moon Stones.

  If he woke it abruptly with a sneak attack, sure, he could catch it—but there’d be no trust. It wouldn’t cooperate, and it definitely wouldn’t lead him to anything. Worst-case scenario, it might even retaliate the moment it was released from its Poké Ball.

  To earn a wild Pokémon’s loyalty, it had to be through a direct 1v1 confrontation.

  With his back resting against Gigalith’s rocky body, Tetsuya took a short break alongside Bziken. Tyrantrum wouldn’t sleep long—Pokémon naps rarely sted more than an hour or so.

  Sure enough, not long after, a deep roar echoed from the cave. The Tyrantrum had awakened—and it was asserting its dominance. This was its territory.

  Tetsuya stood, alert.

  He picked up a fist-sized rock and lobbed it into the cave.

  "Thud… ctter… crack!"

  The rock rolled, struck the wall, and made a satisfying echo.

  Moments ter, the Tyrantrum emerged with heavy, thundering footsteps.

  Its sharp eyes scanned the clearing. It had just been disturbed—and now it saw a human and two unfamiliar Pokémon. Rage flickered across its face.

  Tetsuya narrowed his eyes, stepping slightly behind Gigalith.

  "Rrrroooar!"

  Tyrantrum bellowed at them.

  Tetsuya understood the message loud and clear: Are you the ones who dared disturb me?

  He took a deep breath and shouted back, "Tyrantrum! I challenge you. If you lose, you become my Pokémon!"

  The wild Tyrantrum tilted its head, considering the words. It had seen battles like this before. Many trainers had tried to cim it.

  None had succeeded.

  But this one was different. That Bziken beside him—its fiery aura radiated strength.

  The Tyrantrum gave a low, rumbling grunt.

  It accepted.

  Tetsuya nodded, feeling his pulse quicken. This was it.

  He pointed forward.

  "Then, let’s go. My Pokémon—Bziken!"