As if it had sensed Vance coming, the Vigoroth opened its eyes, broke off its meditation, stood up and worked the stiffness out of its body.
"Nearly there. At the rate you're going you'll break through soon enough — into the first tier of Advanced."
Vance said it with a smile, looking the Vigoroth over, and then thought of the Gyarados.
"Once you break through, there's no telling how frantic that Gyarados of ours is going to get."
"Boss, can the fight between me and Gyarados be called off? I don't want to fight him any more." The Vigoroth said it glumly, thinking back to the earlier battle, to the moment Gyarados had appeared and the two of them had fought side by side.
In that moment a feeling it could not name had gone straight to its heart. Here was a true battle partner. And so the Vigoroth no longer wanted the fight.
"I think you ought to have the one fight all the same. Call it a spar."
"I'll break through soon, and once I do, the big lug won't be any match for me."
The Vigoroth said it heavily.
"Come now, who says a fight has to end with a winner and a loser? That's what you need against an enemy. The two of you are partners; there's no need for it. And a spar lets you learn something about your partner and improve yourself into the bargain. You and Gyarados are both high-aptitude Pokémon — there's a great deal each of you can take from the other."
Vance said it aloud. It was not only this one-month pact; later on he meant to arrange a few more "civil wars" besides.
They would let him test out a few training ideas as well.
"All right."
"Torchic—"
The Torchic came panting up to Vance's feet and lifted its head, watching Vance and the Vigoroth say something to each other — what they were saying, it had no idea.
"Torchic, torchic—"
The Torchic was asking Vance about it.
"Gyarados and Vigoroth are going to have a spar. You need to grow up quickly too, Torchic — one day you'll be taking part as well. And if you don't hurry, well, that Gyarados is a fierce one, you know. His temper isn't good either, and his type beats yours besides. If you're still like this when the day comes, mind he doesn't smack your backside. It hurts. It hurts a great deal."
"Torchic!!"
Hearing that, the Torchic was thoroughly alarmed. It thought of that ferocious face of Gyarados's, and in its heart it already believed every word.
The moment it pictured the scene — itself trembling in front of Gyarados, then getting its backside smacked, with no way to fight back — the Torchic was frightened.
"Tor— I'm going to train. I don't want my backside smacked."
The Torchic said it urgently, and had just started off to train when Vance picked it up.
"Hahaha, no hurry. Come and eat something first. Eat, rest a while, and then get back to training."
Vance called it over, took out the food he had prepared and let the Torchic eat it.
As for Gyarados, Vance had only used him to give the Torchic a fright. The little thing had been lording it over everyone too long, and its head had begun to float.
Once the Torchic was grown it would understand, so there was no harm in it.
"Strange. Why do I feel like somebody's talking about me?"
In another training room the Gyarados broke off his training and muttered it to himself. He had the persistent feeling that somebody was saying bad things about him behind his back.
Over dinner that evening the Gyarados watched his little brother the Torchic with great puzzlement. Why did it seem to be afraid of him? He had not done a thing, surely. He had only been a little serious when they first met, and that hardly warranted this, did it?
Or was it that he looked too fierce, and had frightened the little fellow? It made no sense. He had shown himself friendly enough.
He might look fierce, but he had behaved in a perfectly friendly way.
*I look fierce, but I'm gentle.*
That was how Gyarados saw it.
"Boss, why does the little Torchic seem afraid of me? What's the reason for it?"
With the doubt still on his mind, the Gyarados put it to Vance.
"Oh, it's nothing. It's probably just not used to you yet. Give it a few days." Vance said it lightly, looked the Gyarados over and changed the subject. "Well now, not bad at all. You've gone up a level — twenty-nine already."
"Heh heh. I got the feeling all of a sudden while I was training today, and through I went." The Gyarados said it smugly, and turned to look at the Vigoroth.
"You're about to break through too, aren't you. Hmph. Even if you do, I won't lose."
"Suit yourself." The Vigoroth rolled its eyes. The same as ever — one look at each other and the air was thick with gunpowder, and it had not even done anything.
"Huh." The Gyarados found that odd. The Vigoroth was not firing back at him? It did not feel right.
"Hmph, hmph. When the day comes I'll show you what my training has done. It won't help you even if you have broken through." The Gyarados said it grandly, thoroughly confident in the results of his training.
Several more taunts followed.
The Vigoroth could not stand to listen any longer, and fired straight back at him.
"That's more like it."
Only when the Vigoroth hit back did the Gyarados feel that things were as they should be. He had known something was missing.
Vance laughed quietly at the side and went on eating, while the Torchic sat there looking from Gyarados to Vigoroth and back again.
*They're both so strong. One day I'll pass the two of them,* the Torchic said silently to itself.
A few more days of that quiet life went by.
Vance and the other two had returned to Celadon City as well, taking up again as shopkeepers and running that "Galaxy company" Ambrose had cooked up.
Over those days the League's side was shuffling its people about constantly, preparing, perhaps, to strike back in reprisal for Team Rocket's recent attack.
Celadon City had brought in a number of control measures in that time. They did not affect Vance and the others much, though business at the shop did suffer a little.
"Feels like a storm coming. But we're already indoors, so this particular rain won't get us wet."
Ambrose said it with a grin, lounging in his chair with one leg crossed over the other and jiggling it.
The League was certain to have it out with Team Rocket next, and yet the three of them had been allowed back to Celadon City instead of being posted to hold off the League's assault. They had got out of the way of it.
"We should still be careful. No letting our guard down — the city government is still running its inspections."
Emery said in warning.
"The way we make our money is legal and the sources are clean. As long as we don't expose ourselves they can investigate all they like and turn up nothing. What they're after is members of the organization itself, and we're far too far removed from that — who would ever think of us?" Ambrose said it confidently, and so it proved: over those days the Celadon authorities had begun a strict search for members of the organization and, if anything, paid no attention to small traders like them.
As the authorities saw it, businessmen like Vance who had only just started out had shallow roots and could not have got themselves involved, so how could they know anything? Investigating them would only be a waste of time.
"So you're telling me, Fatty, that you reckon we're in the clear?"
Just then Vance, in the owner's chair, spoke up.
"That's right. Absolutely in the clear. Rock solid."
"Here they come."
Vance murmured it, his eyes turning to the outside.
"Eh? Who's coming?"
Ambrose said, puzzled.
"The League's people."
"What!" Ambrose blurted, and sprang up out of his chair.
"Don't panic. We shouldn't have been exposed — if we had, it wouldn't be this few of them coming. Let's go out and take a look first."
Vance said calmly.
"Manager, there are police officers outside. They say they want to see you."
Just then an employee knocked at the door.
"Come on. Let's see what this is about."
Vance got up and walked out, with Ambrose and Emery following behind.