Chapter 14: Chapter Fourteen: The Way of Governing Subordinates

Did I get lucky?

Even if such a patronizing remark is true, it makes one utterly miserable.

Yet, adding Cang Zhi Lang to the equation, Baimu suddenly had the illusion that holding out for three minutes wasn't impossible.

Too bad.

"Not even a single moment to negotiate!"

Baimu strained every fiber to dodge the brute's fists, then hurled Cang Zhi Lang far away.

Though the opponent gave him no chance to negotiate, there were clear signs of holding back—like using only the two lower fists, reducing attack intensity, and avoiding techniques.

Protecting Cang Zhi Lang?

Perhaps it was more a matter of the brute's pity.

What's the point of all this? Just to call him over and beat him up? Impossible! How could a top official be this idle!

"Look for a chance to hit its foot!"

Baimu shouted, barely twisting away from the left hook, but couldn't evade its lightning-fast right uppercut—so fast it faintly glowed.

Boom!

"Ha!"

After an indescribable dull thud, searing pain surged from his lower abdomen into his mind; his back slammed hard against the octagonal cage's iron mesh, his body curling like a scalded river shrimp, teeth nearly biting his tongue.

Such a fast combination punch!

This guy's level is definitely not low!

Protect your chin!

He hastily raised his arms, then his right shoulder burned with heat and immense force—soon turning into piercing pain, as if his muscles were tearing, and he collapsed to the ground.

Slap.

His body trembled a few times.

His mind had imagined splendid scenarios: surviving with low HP and counterattacking, perfect synergy with Cang Zhi Lang, even defeating the brute with 【Brute Force】.

But in actual combat, he couldn't even last half a minute, let alone land a single signal strike.

Cang Zhi Lang, watching Baimu get knocked down, rushed to attack the brute—but the brute, as if eyes grew on the back of its head, effortlessly dodged and snatched its head with one hand, lifting it up.

"Keh~"

The brute casually blocked the mud jet spat by Cang Zhi Lang with its other hand.

【Mud Throw】 to the face? You've got to land it first.

"Cough… let it go… I surrender."

Baimu struggled to push himself up; his trembling organs and aching right arm left him speechless.

Still, he mustered his last strength to tear off his glove with his mouth, and swiftly recalled Cang Zhi Lang into the Poké Ball, under the brute's puzzled gaze.

After doing this, he shrank the Poké Ball and held it close to his chest, curling up to protect his vital points, then slammed his right hand hard against the ring.

That was the meaning of surrender.

He chose to give up because he saw the gap between them—further fighting would only mean taking more punishment. Though he had some confidence in his physique, if his spleen ruptured, he'd die right there.

Complete silence.

After a long while without response, Baimu heard the giant's voice.

"Get up."

He slowly straightened, seeing the giant squatting before him, placing a water bottle and Mao Jin on the ground in front of him—less than a meter away—while the brute silently exited the octagonal cage.

The giant asked: "Anything you want to say?"

Baimu didn't drink, only wiped the sweat of pain from his face with Mao Jin: "... Nothing."

"The weak have no right to speak. What do you think of that saying?"

"Truth."

"You shamed Chester, injured his subordinates, and disrupted his plans. The Crystal Group will surely come after you. What are you going to do?"

"... Resist."

"Ha, resist like today?"

"..."

"You're safe now because someone high up has a good impression of you."

The giant sat down casually, as if he hadn't just tricked anyone, his expression calm: "But that person's attention is limited. The day he forgets you, that's your doomsday."

"... Please guide me."

Baimu gritted his teeth against the cramping in his abs, forcing his tone to be sincere.

"Next week, we have a Pokémon match against the Wild Dogs Team. Win, and you become the squad leader of the Sand Group—I'll back you. Lose, figure it out yourself. Any problem?"

The giant's tone was utterly calm, yet his gaze sweeping over Baimu's body carried a terrifying pressure, like being watched by a Circle Bear.

Extremely dangerous!

An attack could come at any moment—run now!

Feeling his heart pounding violently, Baimu took a deep breath: "No problem, my lord Cang Zhi Lang."

"Hmm?"

"... Boss."

"Hmm, go."

Amid Cang Zhi Lang's dismissive gesture, Baimu clutched his abdomen and left the boxing ring.

The brute, refilling its water, watched his retreating back, then glanced at Cang Zhi Lang, lost in thought inside the octagonal cage, and sighed helplessly.

They've been using this same trick for so many years—don't they get tired of it?

To be honest, that kid was really good at dodging; I had to ramp up the power of my Punch attack just to land a hit.

A real talent.

The kind of talent we're most lacking.

Outside the door.

Baimu hadn't gone far when he spotted the guide.

"Oh? Got beaten up?"

The guide didn't seem surprised by his battered state; he smiled and said, "Who hit you? How many punches did you take?"

"... Strength, two punches."

"Your endurance is weak—needs improvement. You've got to train this, whether you're a subordinate or a trainer; if you can't take a hit, what good are you?"

The guide walked over to a vending machine by the roadside, bought two energy drinks, and tossed one to him. "On me."

"Thanks."

Baimu reached out and caught it, then paused a moment before opening and drinking it.

The cold drink slid down his throat, and the soothing sensation lessened the pain in his abdomen considerably.

"It might not be appropriate for me to say this," the guide suddenly spoke, "but since the boss is willing to meet you, it means he genuinely admires you."

"Mm."

"The beating was for your own good—to knock some sense into you, to keep you from being reckless, and not to waste his expectations."

"I know."

"Good enough… wander around however you like. The Undercity has plenty of interesting places. I've got things to do—I'm off." The guide tossed his empty bottle on the ground and hurried away.

Wait—

Baimu still remembered the information he needed, but the guide moved too fast—he turned left and vanished from sight.

He was left standing where he was, staring blankly at the rough cement floor.

Several hundred meters away.

The guide opened a door and slipped inside.

"How'd it go?"

Someone stepped forward to ask.

The guide shook his head. "I don't even know how to describe it. But this kid… he's probably not like any of the ones we've known before."

"I just hope he doesn't end up hating the boss. The boss, every time he meets someone he likes, does this kind of thing—like he's pushing them away."

The man sighed deeply.

"Hate? Probably not. I think the kid's pretty sharp," the guide sighed too.

With a boss who pulls stunts like this, what can they do?

Aren't we these little underlings here just to help the boss solve his problems?

The world's tough, man.

—

Boom.

Poké Ball opened.

Cokodora landed and immediately rushed anxiously to Baimu's feet.

"Goo! Goo!"

"It's fine, it's fine—we're both okay, don't panic."

He knelt down, stroking its head and back repeatedly to calm the little creature.

Human physiology in the Pokémon world really is extraordinary.

When he got punched, it felt like he was dying—he'd even seen bruises under his shirt—but now, nothing. His arms didn't ache or swell, his stomach felt fine.

Seeing that he was truly unharmed, Cokodora finally calmed down and let out a soft cry.

"Goo?"

"Hmm… you're asking why I got beaten? Simple—it's a method of controlling people, called workplace PUA. You shatter their self-respect with words or violence, then show them a little kindness, say things like 'I'm only doing this for your own good'…"

Baimu patted its head helplessly.

Getting beaten means you're admired; you're left broken and miserable, then given a chance—it's exactly the same as slapping you then offering a sweet date.

Cokodora grew indignant upon hearing this.

"Goo!"

"You say he's a bad guy? Well, right now, yeah—he is. But people aren't that simple to label."

Baimu shook his head. "He certainly used that method on us, but given his position, the fact that he took the time to play these games on lowly nobodies like us is already a blunt form of admiration."

"Not to mention he'll probably keep his word and protect us. So this workplace PUA of his worked perfectly—we got beaten, yet we're still grateful to him."

Cokodora wore an expression of utter confusion.

It truly didn't understand anymore.

"You don't need to understand it all. All you need to know is, in this place, the only person you can absolutely trust is me—and you. Everyone else has their own agendas." Baimu didn't bother explaining further; he pulled Cokodora into his arms.

Cokodora gently nuzzled back.

Cang Zhi Lang's tactics were undeniably open, transparent schemes.

Even if Baimu saw through his methods, he still had to acknowledge the man's status as boss.

But he was still annoyed.

Who likes getting punched for no reason?

But his role is clear—he's the top boss of a faction, the kind who carved his way from Tsim Sha Tsui all the way to Causeway Bay; you can't command respect with gentle methods.

Carrot and stick is the only hard truth.

As for what Cang Zhi Lang had told him, All Baimu admitted he was in the habit of judging a gentleman by his own petty mind, so he reserved his opinion on its truthfulness.

It might not be false, but it probably wasn't entirely true either.

Sometimes a statement that was nine parts true and one part false could just as easily rob a person of their judgment.

A place like Yellow Iron Town had no soil in which good people could grow; this wasn't New Bark Town or Viridian Town or anything like that. Keeping constant vigilance was the safeguard for oneself.

Chester, one of the top executives, really wanted to kill him? Were those troublemakers on the ground also arranged by the Crystal Group?

What plan had he actually gotten in the way of? Could someone like Shibata really have been entrusted with an important task?

Someone up above had a good impression of him. Whoever Cang Zhi Lang called "up above"—who could it be? The "big crocodiles" behind the Quicksand Team?

Shi Yuan's attitude of first arrogant then deferential—was it all because of that person?

And then there was next week's match.

Their Quicksand Team and the Mad Dog Team had always counted as opposing forces; the grudge between the two sides was basically picked up from fighting over the mines, and had fermented through various incidents into outright mutual hostility.

He had only just obtained his Pokémon not long ago; his odds of winning were dismal.

"Crisis upon crisis."

All Baimu propped up Aron's chin. "Didn't expect that becoming a full member would bring more trouble than when I was just a lackey."

At least back in the lackey days, his only enemy was Shibata alone.