"Why is it that I see you everywhere I go?"
Feng Che looked at the Liepard and shook his head helplessly. "Since you've delivered yourself to my doorstep, I won't be polite."
He signaled the Swoobat. One of them immediately unleashed a piercing, high-frequency screech—Confuse Ray masked by sonic waves. The sound nearly shattered the Liepard's eardrums, leaving its head ringing and its balance shattered. It stumbled around like a drunkard.
Pokémon: Liepard Potential: Exceptional (Green) Ability: Prankster Level: 42 Type: Dark Status: Confused Evaluation: An incredibly clever Liepard with a penchant for "playing dead." When outmatched, its favorite tactic is to close its eyes and collapse on the spot.
[Liepard: Scared the life out of me! Where did that come from?] The cat looked around frantically but saw nothing. [Liepard: Is my mind fractured? No, I heard that screech. It's a bat... but where?]
It tried to creep forward, but Feng Che signaled the Swoobat again. "Screee!" This time, a concentrated Sonic Boom blasted the Liepard four meters backward. It tumbled into the dirt, its purple fur matted with grass and gravel.
[Liepard: What in the world? Am I being haunted by a ghost? Is there a Kecleon here?] It crouched low, tail twitching. Just as it prepared to crawl away, Feng Che had the Swoobat colony manifest a True Air Blade Storm.
Dozens of crescent-shaped wind blades rained from the sky. The Liepard's fur stood on end. [Liepard: CRAP! That's too many! I've stumbled into a bat's nest!]
It transformed into a purple blur, desperately leaping to dodge. The blades struck the earth with thunderous cracks, sending up clouds of dust and stone. When the smoke cleared, the Liepard lay motionless. A deep gash on its belly oozed blood.
[Liepard: Time for my perfect 'Playing Dead' skill. I even bit my own stomach to make the wound look real. Let's see who the mastermind is...]
I have to give it a 10/10 for commitment, Feng Che thought. Harming itself just to make the act convincing. Unfortunately for you, what you're waiting for is a Poké Ball.
Hearing the commotion, three poachers approached. "Look! A dead Liepard! Talk about luck—their pelts go for a fortune in the noble districts." "They're usually too fast to catch. This is a payday!"
[Liepard: Disgusting humans. You want my skin? I'll send you to hell instead.]
The cat snapped into motion. In a flash of purple light, it swept past the trio. The men clutched their throats, blood spraying from between their fingers. They collapsed without a word, staining the soil crimson.
[Liepard: You smell of dead Pokémon. Consider this revenge for the ones you've slaughtered.]
"Caitlin, do you know why I didn't save those men?" Feng Che asked.
"Because they're poachers?" she guessed.
"More than that. Look at the dark red stains on their cloaks. That's the blood of humans and Pokémon alike. Never pity these people; most are murderers. But this Liepard... I'm starting to like it. Agile, smart, and efficient."
Feng Che looked at his Galarian Farfetch'd. "Your turn, duck. I want to see if you've been slacking. You know, slow ducks often end up as roast ducks. Remember the one we ate yesterday? It was a sea duck—too fat to run, caught without a struggle. The grease was just... perfect. I think you ate half of it?"
The Farfetch'd hugged its leek and began to tremble violently.
"Fast ducks are safe," Feng Che added with a wicked grin. "It's always the ones at the back of the pack that get eaten. Don't worry, I only like 'plump' ducks for now."
[Farfetch'd: Oh no, Ducky is in trouble! If Ducky loses, Ducky is dinner!]
Feng Che found it hilarious how this bird constantly fantasized about its own culinary demise. Mentioning "roast duck" acted like a shot of adrenaline. The Farfetch'd marched out from the psychic barrier with its head held high, looking like a soldier going to a glorious death.
The Liepard's eyes widened. [Liepard: So you were hiding behind a psychic screen. Now I have a target to vent on!]
The cat lunged, its claws unsheathing like steel needles—Metal Claw. It blurred into a purple streak. [Liepard: Die, stupid duck!]
[Farfetch'd: Wait... why is this cat moving so slowly?]
Having sparred daily with Scyther, Frogadier, and Torracat, Farfetch'd was used to near-invisible speeds. Compared to them, the Liepard looked like it was moving through syrup.
Training against high-tier speedsters really works, the bird realized. It simply raised its leek, placing it directly in the Liepard's path. THUD! The cat slammed face-first into the hard leek stalk.
The Liepard recoiled, its nose throbbing. A red welt the size of the leek appeared across its face.
"Cat and dog Pokémon are always weak in the nose," Feng Che noted calmly.
Enraged, the Liepard unleashed a Snarl. The sonic wave pulverized nearby rocks. Farfetch'd dug in, using its leek as a shield, but the sheer force pushed it back several meters.
[Liepard: Take this!] It closed the distance instantly with Fake Out, its paws battering the duck's face and flinching it, cancelling its attempted Leaf Blade.
"Careful, Farfetch'd! It can disrupt your flow!" Feng Che warned.
Farfetch'd took the hits, then swung its leek in a wide arc to force the cat back. Liepard leaped away, then used Double Team, creating three copies that lunged from different angles.
"Farfetch'd, on my mark! Pound the one on the right!"
The bird swung its leek with full force. WHAM!
[Liepard: HOW?! How did the human know?! My clones are perfect!]
Before the cat could process the logic, it was slammed into the dirt. It tumbled across the grass, dazed and battered. This time, it didn't have to act—it was truly knocked out cold.