Meteor Falls.
The damp air inside the cave, carrying the earthy and metallic scent of soil and rock, seeped into every pore and filled the nostrils.
Water droplets fell from stalactites so high their tops were invisible, crashing into the pools below with a monotonous yet rhythmic "drip-drop" that echoed through the vast cavern, sounding exceptionally clear.
The light was dim, with only a few rays of daylight struggling through the cracks in the rock walls, barely outlining the jagged rocks and casting claw-like shadows on the ground.
Stepping foot here again, Ariel felt no nostalgia, only a sense of familiarity that reached deep into his bones.
Following the path in his memory, he walked with steady steps toward the site of the slaughter he had buried with his own hands.
The grotto before him had changed; the massive boulders and rubble that had collapsed due to Stomping Tantrum had been cleared away, revealing a level floor with not even a trace of the battle remaining.
The League's efficiency was truly impressive.
Ariel's gaze swept across the open space, his expression showing no ripples of emotion.
He remembered clearly that it was here that the man watched his woman fall in a pool of blood, then lunged forward like a mad dog, losing all reason.
Truly foolish.
Ariel reached a conclusion in his heart: things like romance really only became weaknesses.
Just then, his attention was caught by a group of people in the center of the area.
Five people, a team wearing League uniforms.
At the head was a Middle-aged Man, slightly plump, wearing a well-tailored League official's uniform; though no Pokémon accompanied him, his air of long-held authority clearly marked him as a superior in the group.
Beside him stood three young people, two men and one woman, with arrogant expressions, each accompanied by a Pokémon.
A Sceptile was resting with its eyes closed, the Leaf Blades on its arms as sharp as knives.
A Charizard, the flame on its tail burning fiercely, casting flickering light on the surrounding rock walls.
And a Hitmonchan, its fists wrapped in bandages, its body rippling with muscle and explosive power.
Ariel glanced over these three Pokémon.
The Charizard and Sceptile both looked like they had only recently evolved, so they were at least level 36 or higher.
While the Hitmonchan to the side wasn't a starter pokémon and was relatively common, its aura was the strongest!
Arrogant Pokémon like Charizard and Sceptile didn't show the slightest bit of overbearingness in front of that Hitmonchan, so Ariel estimated that this Hitmonchan's strength was likely the greatest, perhaps around level 40.
Two starter pokémon—were they direct-line Trainers?
Ariel made a judgment instantly.
This kind of setup was definitely not something an ordinary Trainer could possess.
There was one last member in the team, a little girl who looked no more than a child, with two pigtails, holding the Middle-aged Man's hand tightly and looking around curiously; she seemed to be his daughter.
Ariel suppressed his urge to observe and quickly withdrew his gaze.
He came to Meteor Falls for a nest location marked on the map, wanting to try his luck and see if the map's markings were real.
If they were real, he also thought about capturing some Pokémon with decent potential.
He didn't want any complications, let alone to have any connection with this group of formidable League personnel.
He lowered the brim of his hat, preparing to pass by them silently.
But just as he lowered his head and was about to blend into the shadows on the side, a crisp and tender voice, like a small pebble thrown into a calm lake, rang out.
"Teacher Ariel!"
Ariel's footsteps came to an abrupt halt.
Teacher?
What kind of title was that?
He slowly raised his head, following the sound, and found that it was indeed the little girl with pigtails calling him.
At that moment, she had broken free from the Middle-aged Man's hand and was waving her small hand vigorously toward him, jumping up and down with the excitement of seeing an idol.
Ariel's brow furrowed imperceptibly, and alarm bells rang in his mind.
Someone in this group actually recognized him?
He turned around calmly, his gaze passing over the excited little girl to land on the adults behind her, who had various expressions.
The Middle-aged Man at the head had already pulled his daughter back to his side, wearing a professional smile, but his eyes were filled with scrutiny and vigilance.
The other three young Trainers treated him even more directly as a potential threat, their gazes sharp, and their Pokémon adjusted their stances accordingly, entering a state where they could attack at any moment.
The Charizard even let out a low growl from its throat, and a wave of scorching breath washed over him.
"Misato, don't run around. You don't know this big brother."
Misato expressed her protest against the Middle-aged Man's behavior.
"Daddy! I know Teacher Ariel!"
Ariel looked closely; that young face did indeed look somewhat familiar.
Memories flipped quickly through his mind, and a few seconds later, a name surfaced.
Misato.
A newcomer from the Trainer School, her Pokémon was a Skitty, and later in Petalburg Woods, she captured a Spinarak.
Back then, Roxanne had asked him to look after three interns, and she was one of them.
Of course, that was Misato's knowledge of Ariel.
To Ariel, Misato had another important identity!
If Misato hadn't happened to mention the identity of Yuta's father back then, Ariel wouldn't have been able to complete the Team Rockets assassination mission so easily.
Ariel's thoughts were interrupted. He stepped forward, looking at Misato's small face, which was beaming with joy at the reunion, and responded in a flat tone:
"It's Misato. What a coincidence, you're here too."
As he spoke, his peripheral vision never left the four adults with their various expressions.
Especially the Middle-aged Man at the head.
"Teacher?"
The man's brow furrowed slightly, his scrutinizing gaze falling on Ariel, his voice tinged with clear doubt. "Is there such a young teacher at the Trainer School?"
He quickly searched his mind for prominent young Trainers in Rustboro City, but none of them matched the youth before him.
Water droplets fell from the towering stalactites, splashing ripples in the puddles below, the sound echoing through the empty cavern, sounding exceptionally clear.
The man subconsciously tightened his grip on Misato's hand, turning his body slightly to shield his daughter behind him without drawing attention to the movement.
The movement was subtle, but in Ariel's eyes, it was a clear signal of defensiveness.
The wilderness, a stranger, and excessive calmness.
These elements combined were enough to make any experienced veteran highly alert.
The other three guard-like Trainers also became wary.
A Sceptile tilted its head slightly, its golden slit pupils glancing coldly at Ariel, letting out a very low warning from its throat.
The air seemed to grow a bit heavier.
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