Chapter 465: The Bharat Champion! Gange!
In the presence of high-tier Pokémon, humans were fragile—almost laughably so. A
single, rampaging Champion-tier Pokémon possessed enough destructive potential
to level a city block. Against such power, modern technology could offer some
resistance, but against the Master Tier? Humanity was functionally defenseless.
A Level 100 Pokémon didn't just win battles; it rewrote geography.
It was this reality that gave trainers of Kenji and Zhurong Yun's caliber their
absolute authority. They weren't just athletes; they were the wardens of the
nation's survival.
"Kenji, this is Matsumoto-kun," Zhurong Yun said with a pleasant smile.
Matsumoto stood beside the former Champion, a polite, weary expression on his
face.
"Ah, hello, Matsumoto-kun," Kenji replied, feeling a twinge of awkwardness. He
had just spent the last hour systematically dismantling the Neon League's
prestige on a global broadcast, and now here was their Champion, standing in his
living room.
Yun, sensing Kenji's hesitation, laughed. "Don't be stiff. Shigesuke doesn't
care about the internet drama."
Matsumoto nodded. "Indeed. Please, do not be so formal. I am not here as the
Champion of the Neon League today; I am here simply as Shigesuke Matsumoto. I've
wanted to meet the man who shattered the Zhurong monopoly for a long time. I was
hoping we could simply be friends."
"I'd like that," Kenji said, extending his hand.
As they talked, Kenji was surprised to learn that Matsumoto's mother was
actually from the Huaxia League. He was bi-racial, a bridge between two
often-clashing cultures. It explained his mastery of both "Rigid" and "Fluid"
combat styles—and why he was so much more approachable than his peers.
"I spent much of my childhood in the Huaxia League with my mother's family,"
Matsumoto said, his voice sincere. "I love your country. I love mine as well, of
course."
After a brief, pleasant exchange, Matsumoto checked his watch and excused
himself to attend to a team meeting.
"Why'd you bring him here without warning?" Kenji asked, pouring a cup of tea
once the door closed.
Yun shrugged. "He was insistent. He's genuinely fascinated by your growth.
Besides, despite the Neon League's political headaches, Shigesuke is one of the
good ones."
"I can see that. He's genuine," Kenji admitted.
"If I draw him in the bracket," Kenji added, "I might actually show a little
mercy."
Yun let out a short, sharp bark of laughter. "Don't you dare. Shigesuke is a
warrior. He's polite in the hallway, but he's a demon on the field. If he finds
out you're holding back, he'll be more insulted than if you 1v6'd him."
The next day, the second round of the World Championship began.
The atmosphere was noticeably more volatile than the first round. The "polite"
phase of the tournament was over. Every League was sharpening its claws, and the
gaze of the world was fixed on the Huaxia delegation.
Kenji, in particular, had become the primary target of every strategist in the
building. After the Slaking massacre, he was no longer a "prodigy"—he was a
threat that needed to be neutralized at any cost.
In the prep room, Kenji was lounging on a sofa, casually eating a bag of chips
and sipping on a zero-sugar soda while watching the live feed.
After a dozen matches, he paused, his chip halfway to his mouth.
Match 15: Li Xisheng (Huaxia) vs. Shinji Oda (Neon).
Kenji frowned. "Oda... that's the short, angry one, right?"
"That's him," Yuna Su whispered, leaning in. "He's a vocal nationalist. He hates
our League more than he loves his own."
Kenji nodded, his expression darkening. "Is Li Xisheng ready?"
Li Xisheng looked grave. He wasn't a fool; he knew Oda was a veteran Elite Four
member. While Li had the talent, he was still the "Rookie" of the Huaxia
delegation.
"I'll do my best," Li said, though his eyes reflected the heavy pressure of the
world stage.
"Just relax," Kenji said, patting his shoulder. "If you lose, I'll just have to
break him twice as hard later."
The match was a technical nightmare. Oda specialized in Electric-types, his ace
being a high-level Ampharos. Li Xisheng fought with everything he had, but the
gap in experience was visible. On a global stage, every micro-mistake is
magnified. Li missed a prediction on a Volt Switch, and Oda tore the opening
wide.
By the end of the match, Li Xisheng's Mega Gallade lay defeated.
Oda didn't just celebrate; he played to the cameras, laughing hysterically and
gesturing toward the Huaxia section with mocking arrogance. He had reclaimed a
sliver of the Neon League's dignity, and he was going to milk it for everything
it was worth.
Li Xisheng returned to the lounge, his head bowed in shame. The team offered
words of comfort, but the sting was there.
Kenji finished his soda and crushed the can. Keep laughing, Oda, he thought. I'm
coming for those teeth.
The bad news didn't stop there. Mason Chu was eliminated shortly after, losing
to a surprise Champion from a smaller League.
By the end of Day 1 of the second round, two of Huaxia's pillars had fallen. The
international press was ecstatic, claiming the "Huaxia Hype" was finally
deflating.
Day 2.
Kenji arrived at the arena expecting to be the closing act again. To his
surprise, his name appeared much earlier in the docket.
Match 4: Grand Champion Kenji (Huaxia) vs. Grand Champion Gange (Bharat).
The stadium erupted. This was the first "Champion vs. Champion" match of the
tournament. The "Sovereign of the Swarm" against the "Fire Lord of Bharat."
In the Bharat section, the fans were in a state of religious ecstasy. Gange had
become a cult figure in his home region; they viewed his "eccentricities" as a
sign of divine madness.
"GANGE! SHOW THE MAINLANDER THE POWER OF THE HOLY FIRE!"
"KENJI IS A FLUKE! HE BEAT A WEAK GIRL! GANGE WILL INCINERATE HIM!"
"THE INCINEROAR OF BHARAT HAS NO EQUAL!"
Gange entered the arena first, still carrying his Salazzle in a princess carry.
He looked at the Huaxia platform with a sneer of pure, unfiltered contempt. He
was convinced that Zhurong Yun's loss was a fluke and that he, Gange, was the
true heir to the Asian throne.
Kenji stepped onto the field, his hands in his pockets. He looked at Gange, then
at the nuzzling Salazzle, and felt a wave of genuine pity for the Pokémon.
"You done?" Kenji asked, his voice amplified by the arena's field-mics. "Because
I've got a lunch reservation in an hour, and I'd hate to be late."
Gange's face turned a shade of purple that almost matched his Salazzle.
"Arrogant child! I will burn your 'Legend' until there is nothing left but
soot!"
The battle for the heart of Asia was about to begin.
♧♧♧
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