Chapter 13: What Are You So Cocky About?!
The entire mansion fell silent the moment the words left Mammon's mouth.
"What… did you just say?"
Plumeria snapped back to reality, her face twisting in disbelief.
What did he just say?
She genuinely thought she'd misheard.
"I thought I was pretty clear?" Mammon recrossed his legs, smiling at Plumeria without a care in the world.
"I want Team Skull to merge into Team Rocket. Did you catch it this time?"
The absolute nerve—
Caitlin's right hand quietly closed around a Poké Ball, ready for combat at a moment's notice.
What Mammon was doing right now was the equivalent of walking into someone's house and spitting on the carpet. Arrogance cranked to the absolute maximum.
And this time, every single person in Team Skull had heard him. Loud and crystal clear.
"The HELL?!"
"Who does this cocky little punk think he is?! Big Sis, let's waste him!"
"I've been alive twenty years and I have NEVER seen anyone this full of himself!"
"Do you have any idea who you're talking to, you piece of—"
Plumeria hadn't even opened her mouth before the Skull grunts lost it. Some of the hotheads were already throwing Poké Balls, ready to swarm and beat this arrogant brat into the ground.
The room descended into chaos.
"So noisy."
Mammon's brow creased slightly.
"Caitlin."
The perceptive Caitlin understood immediately. Blue light flared behind her eyes.
A flash of white, and Metagross materialized with a heavy thud.
"MITA!"
Metagross roared. A tidal wave of psychic energy erupted outward.
Psychic!
The shockwave blasted through the room, hurling every single Skull grunt's Pokémon away like ragdolls.
Caitlin hadn't yet reached her future Unova Elite Four level, but her ace Metagross was already solidly in the Elite tier. Dealing with a bunch of Team Skull members was effortless.
The psychic gale tore through the room, sending debris flying — but when it subsided, silence returned.
Every Skull grunt stared at the imposing Metagross in open terror.
"I really can't stand worthless nobodies who do nothing but bark. If you're so keen on running your mouths, how about you step up to the front? Please."
Mammon swept the room with a glance, ignoring them entirely. His smile remained perfectly polite.
He called us WORTHLESS—!
A handful of grunts with more guts than sense glared at Mammon and actually stepped forward.
"You cocky little— Who do you think you are, looking down on us—"
The one in front clearly didn't want to look weak. But he didn't get to finish.
"Not bad — looks like you few are a slight cut above worthless. Caitlin, leave them half-alive. Broken arms, broken legs — whatever. The hospital can fix them."
Mammon gave them a generous round of applause, then casually tossed the instruction to Caitlin.
"Understood." Caitlin nodded with a serene smile.
The grunts who'd stepped forward glanced at each other and, in perfect unison, took one step back. They swallowed hard.
Half-alive?! These people are psychotic!
"Enough! All of you, stand down."
Plumeria finally spoke.
"Big Sis!"
The grunts were clearly unhappy, but one sharp look from Plumeria sent them shuffling back into line.
"Well? Made up your mind, ma'am?"
Mammon paid the small fry no attention and turned back to Plumeria.
"Mr. Mammon — I'll admit Team Skull can't match Team Rocket. But walking in here and demanding we merge into your organization? Don't you think that's a bit much?"
Plumeria's voice was frigid.
"And this is Alola — not your Kanto!"
Merge into Team Rocket? Absolutely not.
Everyone's got their pride. Like it or not, Team Skull was a name that meant something in Alola.
"Yes, this is Alola. And? What's your point?"
Mammon tilted his head, genuinely amused.
"Mr. Mammon — mutually assured destruction isn't what you want either, is it?" Plumeria's tone was grave.
"Ha?"
Mammon's response was a single, blank syllable.
Plumeria's expression curdled — because after a beat, Mammon started laughing. Out loud.
"Pfft— ahahahaha! Sorry, sorry. Ma'am, your comedy skills are surprisingly on point."
After a moment, the laughter tapered off. Mammon's expression smoothed out. He settled back in his chair, looking Plumeria up and down with cold amusement.
"What I'd really love to know is — what on earth made you think a bunch of bottom-feeders like Team Skull could manage 'mutually assured destruction' against Team Rocket?"
He'd dropped the act entirely. Pure, undisguised mockery.
"You—"
Plumeria's temper flared white-hot. The grunts around her seethed alongside her.
Anyone would. Being called "bottom-feeders" straight to your face — who wouldn't be furious?
"Hold on — take a breath."
Mammon raised a hand, signaling Plumeria to calm down.
"Stop with the sputtering. I'll spell it out for you. We didn't come here to negotiate. We came to inform."
His voice was flat.
"Surrender and join us, or we level Team Skull today. Those are your only two options."
Plumeria clenched her jaw, glaring at Mammon. Two options?
She never could have imagined that Team Skull — just minding their own business on their own tiny patch of Alolan turf — would have a man-eating tiger swim across the ocean to come knocking.
"The HELL—"
"You little punk, you think we're just gonna—"
The grunts were boiling over again.
"One more word and I cut out every tongue in this room."
Lance's voice sliced through the air like a blade of ice. The wet, slithering hiss of a serpent followed. Arbok glided forward, its cold, unblinking eyes sweeping across the Skull grunts.
Silence. Instant, total silence.
The grunts were humiliated and furious — but Lance's killing intent was genuinely terrifying.
Nobody wanted to test whether he was bluffing with their own tongue.
"Mr. Mammon — don't push this too far!"
Plumeria finally steadied herself.
"Surrender. Or don't." Mammon's voice was toneless.
"I don't want to hear anything else. Are we clear?"
Plumeria's chest heaved. When — when — had she ever been treated like this?
This kid hadn't shown them an ounce of basic human respect from the moment he walked in!
How could anyone be this insufferably arrogant?! Damn him!
"What are you so cocky about?!" Plumeria's composure finally cracked.
"So what if you three are strong? At the end of the day, there's only five of you!"
She pulled out two Poké Balls, eyes blazing at Mammon.
Five people on their side. And over here? Twenty-seven.
Twenty-seven against five. The advantage was obviously theirs.
They could win this!!
"That's adorable. Doesn't matter how many small fry you stack up — they're still just small fry."
Mammon's lips curled in a smile that was half-sneer, half-pity.
Lance and Caitlin looked equally unconcerned. As for the two Rocket grunts bringing up the rear—
Well, they were just there for the ambiance.
Three against twenty-seven. Was there even any suspense?