Just as the Smith family trainers were about to seize Mewtwo—
Ethan calmly recalled it into its Poké Ball.
"I don't recall giving you permission to take it."
Andrew's face darkened.
"Ethan, what do you mean by this?!"
Ethan laughed lightly.
"What do I mean?"
"You offered one hundred million."
"I brought the Pokémon."
"So where's the money?"
"A hundred million in cash should take up at least a couple cubic meters, right? Even in a stadium this big, it shouldn't be hard to spot."
"And with this many people gathered here… you're clearly not worried about Mewtwo escaping."
"You're worried about me escaping."
His tone was flat.
Direct.
Embarrassingly accurate.
Owen Morgan's eyes burned with hatred.
"Do you remember Augustus?"
Ethan glanced at him.
Similar features.
Same surname.
Ah.
Family.
"I remember," Ethan said casually.
"Died pretty miserably. Not even a full body left."
"Brother? Or cousin?"
"You're here for revenge?"
Owen exploded.
"You think having a few strong Pokémon lets you run wild in Divine Eagle territory?!"
"You're not leaving here alive!"
Henry and Andrew both frowned.
Morgan had brought an emotional fool.
But the situation had already passed the point of subtlety.
Henry stepped forward coldly.
"Hand over Mewtwo."
"Or we can't guarantee what happens next."
Ethan smiled.
"Can't guarantee what happens to me?"
"Or to yourselves?"
That question hung in the air.
Then—
More footsteps.
The underground arena doors opened again.
Another wave of trainers entered.
Dozens.
The number quickly climbed near one hundred.
And each one—
At least Champion-tier.
Some Totem-tier peak.
An execution squad.
Andrew declared calmly:
"Don't blame us."
"Blame your talent."
"If we let you grow freely, Divine Eagle will eventually be replaced by Donghuang."
"Dying under a hundred elite trainers…"
"At least it's dignified."
They stepped back.
The arena floor filled with over a hundred powerful Pokémon.
For most people—
Legs would already be shaking.
Ethan?
He looked almost bored.
"That's it?"
"You're underestimating me."
He raised his hand.
"Metagross."
Metagross
"Blazehound."
Arcanine
"Mamoswine."
Mamoswine
"Tornadus."
Tornadus
"Thundurus."
Thundurus
Five flashes of light.
Five overwhelming presences.
Divine-tier aura erupted.
The air itself bent under pressure.
Owen froze.
Henry's pupils contracted.
Andrew's throat went dry.
Five.
Divine-tier.
Pokémon.
What kind of monster was this?
They had planned to assassinate a rising genius.
Instead—
They had cornered a war machine.
Henry and Andrew exchanged a single look.
Retreat.
Immediately.
"Running already?" Owen roared.
"Are you cowards?!"
Henry shot back sharply:
"They're Divine-tier! What do you expect us to do, die gloriously?!"
They turned and fled.
Owen stood there, trembling with fury—
And fear.
The Slaughter Begins
"Ice Lord, guard me."
Glastrier stepped forward, silent and immovable.
"Metagross, the rest of you…"
"Teach them a lesson."
"And while you're at it—"
"Remodel the place."
Ethan's voice was calm.
The Divine Pokémon answered with excitement.
"Finally," Blazehound growled.
"Tornadus," Thundurus sneered, "let's see who knocks down more."
"You'll lose."
"Keep dreaming."
Metagross simply surged forward—
Steel meteor descending into chaos.
The arena transformed instantly.
Like a boiling cauldron.
Over a hundred Champion-tier Pokémon unleashed attacks simultaneously.
Flames.
Lightning.
Psychic waves.
Earth-shattering tremors.
But in front of Divine-tier power—
They were nothing.
Metagross' psychic field flattened entire sections.
Blazehound's inferno tore through defensive formations.
Mamoswine's glacial charge crushed lines of resistance.
Tornadus and Thundurus split the sky inside the arena—
Storm and thunder crashing mercilessly.
Occasional attacks struck them—
But the damage was negligible.
The difference in realm was absolute.
Within minutes—
The "execution squad" had become the executed.
And above the destruction—
Ethan stood untouched.
Watching.
Unmoved.
Because this was never a trap.
It was—
A purge.
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