"All right," the faceless man said with a nod. "Just don't let it hit you too hard. As far as I know, no one has ever cleared the ninth floor."
He understood Aaron's pride. A genius sometimes had to hit a wall for himself.
"What exactly is up there?" Aaron asked, unable to hide his curiosity.
The man laughed.
"You'll know once you get there. But I can tell you this much: the Pokémon on that floor are no joke."
Aaron nearly rolled his eyes.
Of course they were strong.
What a useful answer.
The man seemed amused by his reaction. "Go on. And if you get stopped, don't let it crush you. Once Gyarados and Sceptile have recovered, you may have a real chance of clearing it."
"Thank you," Aaron said, bowing slightly. "Then I'll head up."
"Go."
The man waved him forward, open admiration in his gaze.
At that moment, the Tower Spirit's resonant voice rang out from the void.
"Congratulations. You have cleared the eighth floor. Clear time: 10 minutes."
"You will now be transported to the ninth floor."
Aaron slowly vanished from the battlefield.
The man stood where he was, watching him disappear in silence. After a long moment, he spoke softly.
"What a remarkable young man."
"I hope you can clear it."
"The Original One has been waiting for this day for far too long."
As he said that, the loneliness around him deepened, as though some old weight had settled over his heart.
"Sigh..."
Soon after, he vanished from the eighth floor as well, leaving only a long sigh behind.
...
Outside the tower, the square was packed to bursting.
People had climbed into trees just to get a better view of the stele. Some had even scrambled onto lampposts. The crowd was so dense that officers and their Pokémon partners had already been sent in to keep order. With this many people gathered in one place, one bad push could turn into a stampede.
Every eye was fixed on the ranking monument.
Aaron's name was still on the eighth floor.
Time crawled by.
One minute became two, then three. By the time six, seven, and then eight minutes had passed without his name moving, doubt began to spread through the crowd.
Compared with how quickly he had cleared the earlier floors, this delay felt enormous. Some people were already convinced his run ended here, and a few had even started to leave.
"Forget it. He's been stuck this long. There's no way."
"What a waste of excitement. I really thought he might challenge Braveon's record."
"Exactly. I came all this way, and this is it? I'm leaving."
"He's still ridiculously strong, though. Even if he stops here, he's already second."
"It hasn't even been ten minutes yet. What are you all panicking for? Braveon took twenty minutes to clear this floor."
"That's right. Leave if you want, but stop trying to ruin it for everyone else. You just sound jealous."
"Jealous? Of him? Please. My family has money and influence. Trainers like Aaron, people from nowhere, are born to work for families like mine."
"Let's go. He's just a clown."
"If he clears this floor, I'll kiss a Poochyena right here. I'll say that much."
"Damn... Mr. Cassian really said it."
"Wait, that's Mr. Cassian? No wonder he talks like that."
The crowd nearly boiled over.
Among them stood a young man of about eighteen with an obnoxiously flashy pompadour. He stared at Aaron's name with open disdain.
This was Cassian, one of the heirs of Crown City's most powerful household.
And he hated what he was seeing.
The one standing in the spotlight, watched by thousands, should have been him. Why was some poor kid with a perfect exam score getting this kind of attention?
A top scorer?
His family had hired more perfect-score geniuses than he could count. In the end, most of them became obedient employees, useful tools, people who knew how to lower their heads.
In Cassian's eyes, those so-called geniuses from humble backgrounds were nothing more than talented strays waiting for someone powerful to put a leash on them.
He was jealous of Aaron, and he looked down on him. So he ran his mouth in front of the tower, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.
The attention satisfied his vanity.
But when Braveon, Blaze, and Liora heard him, their expressions turned cold.
Blaze was the first to snap.
"Nice hair, Pompadour. What are you trying to prove? You can't even break into the top five, and you're standing here barking?"
Cassian's expression turned cold as well.
"Blaze, don't start with me. I was talking about Aaron, not you. Why are you butting in?"
Blaze spat on the ground.
"Aaron is our friend. You think we're supposed to stand here and listen to you trash him?"
His eyes sharpened.
"If you've got that much to say, battle me. I'll teach you some manners."
Cassian's face darkened.
A Pokémon battle?
He was no match for Blaze at all.
He had not expected Blaze to step in for some nobody from a poor background.
His voice turned icy.
"Don't get cocky. You only got this far because you were lucky enough to awaken powers. Without that, what makes you think you could ever stand above me?"
Cassian was jealous of him too.
The unfairness of it gnawed at him. Someone as outstanding as him had not awakened powers, yet this bastard had. Just thinking about it made his envy burn.
"Pfft."
Blaze burst out laughing.
He looked Cassian up and down with open contempt.
"If you hadn't been lucky enough to be born into that family, you might not have survived to eighteen."
His smile vanished.
"What an idiot. If you don't dare battle, then shut up. Stop acting important where everyone can see you."
Then he pointed at the stele.
"Aaron is clearing this floor. Just watch."
Liora glared at Cassian from the side and nodded hard.
Cassian's face twisted with rage.
"You're really asking for it."
He clenched his fists and spoke through gritted teeth.
"I'll say it right here. If that trash clears the eighth floor, I'll eat shit in this square."
He refused to believe that some poor kid with no background could clear the tower's eighth floor.
Unless he was cheating.
...