Chapter 11: Your Uniforms Are Hideous
Ula'ula Island — the eastern and largest island in the Alola region.
Its guardian deity was Tapu Bulu, and its current Island Kahuna was Nanu.
But none of that mattered right now. What mattered was that according to Domino's intelligence, Team Skull's headquarters was located in Po Town on Ula'ula Island.
This wasn't exactly classified information. Team Skull was universally despised across Alola — finding out where they were holed up was child's play.
And Po Town was exactly what it sounded like: a town that Team Skull had completely taken over.
Mammon had arrived at Po Town with Caitlin, Lance, and two rank-and-file Rocket grunts in tow.
Lance had been a little worried at first. After all, this was essentially a raid on another criminal organization — or in less polite terms, storming their turf.
Wasn't this too few people?
Mammon had waved it off. They didn't even need the two grunts. The three of them were more than enough.
Lance had his doubts. He'd privately resolved that if things went sideways, his top priority was getting the Young Master out safely.
But now…
"This place is a dump."
After walking into Po Town, Lance stared at the scene before him in disbelief.
Po Town was a walled-off settlement that Team Skull had claimed as their own — but calling it a "stronghold" was being extremely generous.
The place was a wreck. Dilapidated streets. Absurd, garish graffiti everywhere. Not a civilian in sight.
The residents had cleared out long ago, which was precisely why Team Skull had been able to run wild here.
"This is… deplorable."
Caitlin frowned, her delicate brow knitting together. As someone with mild germaphobia, the garbage strewn across every curb triggered a near-physical revulsion.
"This is how Team Skull treats their own territory? How disappointing."
Lance was starting to think he'd vastly overestimated them.
"It's an organization built by a loser. What did you expect?"
Mammon wasn't the least bit surprised. He strolled casually toward the northern end of Po Town.
"Calling Team Skull an 'evil organization' is giving them way too much credit. They're just street punks."
Mammon made zero effort to mask his contempt. He'd never once taken Team Skull seriously.
What even was Team Skull?
The backstory was almost laughable. Their boss, Guzma, had once taken the Island Challenge alongside Professor Kukui. Neither of them had become a Trial Captain.
After that, Guzma grew bitter and resentful, determined to tear down the entire Island Challenge system. He founded Team Skull to destroy everything it stood for.
And the members? Just a collection of Trainers who'd failed their own Island Challenges.
In short, Team Skull was an organization of self-pitying failures — led by a failure, staffed by failures.
Mammon looked down on them from the bottom of his heart. Weak in strength, laughable in ideology.
Evil organization? They didn't deserve the title.
Couldn't hack the challenge, so you throw a tantrum and turn to destruction for kicks? What a joke.
Even evil organizations had standards, and Team Skull was dragging the whole industry's reputation through the mud.
Better to clean house.
Mammon's group made their way toward the suspicious mansion at the northern end of Po Town. It didn't take long before they stood in front of a run-down estate.
"This is it. Team Skull's base." Mammon confirmed.
"…" Lance had no words left.
He was genuinely starting to wonder if his own frame of reference was broken. This was the notorious Team Skull? And this was their headquarters?
"Halt! Who are you people?!"
Two young men in black burst out from the side, blocking Mammon's path.
"Don't you know this is Team Skull turf?!"
These are Team Skull members?
Caitlin's eyes swept over them. Both male — one skinny, one heavyset. They wore black tank tops emblazoned with skull designs, skull-print bandanas wrapped around their heads, and matching face coverings.
"Those uniforms are hideous. Who designed these things?"
Mammon clicked his tongue as he looked them over.
Caitlin nodded emphatically. The fashion sense was truly beyond salvation.
Of course, as a lady of refinement, such vulgar commentary wasn't really her style. She was grateful Mammon had said it for her.
"What'd you just say?! You little punk! Say it again, I dare you!"
The two Skull grunts were instantly furious. How dare someone insult the uniforms they were so proud of?
"You've got some nerve coming to Team Skull's turf and running your mouth! I oughta—"
The heavy one was spitting with rage, stomping forward like he was about to throw hands for real.
But before he could finish his sentence, a massive purple cobra materialized out of thin air and whipped its tail straight into him.
The grunt barely managed to raise his arm on instinct.
CRACK.
A dull, heavy impact. The heavyset grunt was launched off his feet and hit the ground hard, howling in agony.
The skinny one hadn't even processed what happened.
"Big D! You okay?!"
Once it clicked, the thin grunt scrambled to his partner's side and tried to help him up.
"D-don't… don't touch my arm…"
But the heavy grunt's face had gone chalk-white. Cold sweat poured down his body, and he was shaking uncontrollably. His right arm hung limp and useless.
"Huh?"
"My arm… it's broken… it hurts so bad…" His voice came out in broken, teary fragments.
The skinny grunt panicked, completely at a loss.
"…"
Caitlin glanced at the cobra that had struck — an Arbok, Poison-type. It belonged to Lance.
She looked at the grunt crumpled on the ground. Using a Pokémon to attack a person directly…
Caitlin pressed her lips together. She'd need to adapt to this quickly.
"Worthless trash. Who gave you permission to talk to the Young Master like that?"
Lance's expression had turned cold and dark, his icy gaze fixed on the pale, trembling grunt.
"Arbok!"
He wasn't done with this one.
Among Team Rocket's Four Generals, Lance was the most presentable — handsome, well-spoken, fond of polite language. He gave off an approachable, gentlemanly air.
In reality, Lance was the cruelest of the four. Brutality was business as usual for him.
"Easy, Lance. Don't get so heated. A small lesson is enough."
Mammon chuckled and called him off. Not out of mercy — these Skull grunts still had their uses.
The ones with decent potential could be recruited into the organization. The rest could be put to work in the mines or manual labor. There were plenty of places that needed warm bodies. No point wasting resources.