"Friends in the audience! The champion of this knockout competition has emerged—it's Tyson and his Charizard!"
The crowd erupted into cheers as the announcer's voice echoed through the stadium. Tyson and Charizard stood in the arena, their bodies tense with adrenaline as the deafening sounds of the crowd reached their ears.
The roaring applause and the enthusiastic expressions of the audience set Tyson's heart racing. Charizard let out a triumphant roar, wings spread wide as if basking in the adulation.
Tyson, however, restrained himself. He clenched his fists and steadied his breathing, reminding himself that this victory was just one step on a much longer journey. He knew he was far from being truly strong—not yet worthy of pride.
But Charizard? Charizard deserved this moment. Tyson felt his partner had worked hard enough to savor the applause and cheers.
As Tyson allowed a small smile to break through his calm demeanor, Mizutani Raima stood nearby, seething. The resentment in Mizutani's eyes was nearly palpable, his jealousy festering like a storm about to break.
That should be me, Mizutani thought bitterly. Those cheers, that spotlight—they belong to me! How dare Tyson steal my honor?
Recalling his defeated Electivire, Mizutani forced himself to suppress his anger. He wasn't foolish enough to make a scene here, not in public. But deep down, Mizutani vowed that Tyson wouldn't escape retribution.
Walking into the player tunnel, Mizutani glanced over his shoulder one last time, casting a glare that practically screamed hostility.
Tyson noticed. He wasn't blind to the malice in Mizutani's expression—it was clear that this wasn't over.
Tyson also understood the weight of Mizutani's status as an heir of the powerful Mizutani family. Even if Mizutani didn't have the authority to wield the full might of his family, his influence could still cause trouble.
Still, Tyson remained composed. For now, he wouldn't dwell on Mizutani's animosity. His focus was on claiming the prize.
The award ceremony proceeded without incident. Mizutani excused himself, citing his Pokémon's injuries as the reason for his absence. Tyson, meanwhile, was led to a luxuriously decorated lounge to receive his rewards.
Michael, a Silph Corporation representative, entered the room alongside several staff members carrying trays.
"Hello, my name is Michael," he began warmly. "May I call you Tyson?"
"Of course," Tyson replied with a nod.
"Excellent. Tyson, here are the prizes you requested. Please check them to ensure they meet your expectations."
With a flourish, Michael unveiled the first tray.
"This is a Master Ball, developed by our company. It's exceptionally difficult to produce—even Silph Corporation can only manufacture a limited number each year. With this, Tyson, you can attempt to capture any Pokémon you desire."
Though Michael kept his explanation brief, pride laced his tone.
Next, he revealed the second tray.
"These are the Swords Dance and Substitute TMs you requested. I trust you're familiar with their effects, so I won't go into detail."
Tyson's eyes lit up. These TMs were the prizes he'd been most eager to obtain.
The remaining trays contained other items Tyson had selected: two high-quality Poké Balls, which he intended to resell for funds since they were redundant with the Master Ball; a Charcoal for Charizard to boost its Fire-type moves; a Twisted Spoon for his Kadabra to enhance its Psychic-type attacks; and two bottles of high-grade Potion for emergency recovery during battles.
After ensuring the prizes were in order, Tyson accepted them with satisfaction. Michael dismissed the staff, leaving the two of them alone in the room.
"Allow me to formally introduce myself," Michael said, sitting across from Tyson. "I am Michael, a manager with Silph Corporation. Tyson, would you be interested in accepting an investment from us?"
Michael smiled, anticipating hesitation. "By the way, we are aware of Mizutani Raima's animosity toward you. Rest assured, Silph Corporation will ensure you face no injustice. You have my word, backed by Silph Corporation's reputation."
He handed Tyson a contract. "Take your time reviewing it. There's no rush to decide."
Tyson glanced at the contract. He appreciated Silph Corporation's proactive approach—whether it was their genuine style or a calculated move to win his favor, it made an impression.
However, Tyson already knew his answer.
"Thank you for your offer," Tyson said politely, placing the contract back on the table. "But I must decline. As for Mizutani Raima, if his family does come after me, we'll see who has the last laugh."
Michael chuckled, not offended by the rejection. "Very well, Tyson. I wish you success in your journey. Should you ever reconsider, our doors remain open."
Tyson left the room, his determination unwavering. Michael watched him go, intrigued.
"Keep an eye on him," Michael instructed after a brief call. "If he finds himself in true danger, intervene once. Let's see what surprises Tyson brings to the table."
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