Chapter 80: The Name of the Demon Tree

Although Baimu deliberately delayed a little before coming out, he was still surrounded by group after group of frenzied gamblers.

"Little brother! I've got high hopes for you!"

"Do you know how many faces you've slapped?"

"Dark horse, dark horse, you're my lucky star!"

"Who let you win? Who gave you permission to win? Do you know all my money got lost on you!?"

Excitement, wild joy, mockery, and anger—every sort of emotion, whether directed at him or at someone else, surfaced on those faces, pouring into his view one after another.

Of course.

The main reason he could observe those expressions closely was that his path forward was blocked.

The frenzied gamblers didn't seem to intend to let him leave just like that, grabbing him and about to spout something.

Fortunately, Cheng Hong and the other team members arrived in time, parted the gamblers, and rescued their captain who had been completely surrounded.

"Almost couldn't squeeze in, way too many people, Ten."

Cheng Hong, drenched in sweat, complained.

"It's the money that's popular, not the person."

Baimu corrected his mistaken phrasing,

As early as yesterday, Flobo had reminded him that after the Top 16 everyone's attention would rise dramatically, and if no one came to meet him he'd very likely get blocked at the exit.

So he had specifically called Cheng Hong and the others to escort him; looking at it now, Flobo's words were indeed correct.

In the main hall.

Baimu turned to look at the big screen, and could clearly see on it the contestants who had already defeated their opponents and smoothly advanced to the championship tournament.

Unless something unexpected happened, these people would be his greatest opponents.

But honestly, at this Top 16 position, he and Crocodile and the others had already begun to feel the strain; in straight-up combat they mainly relied on Mawile's superior talent and catching the opponent off guard.

Once it became three-on-three, things would get even harder.

"Tough opponents…"

"Baimu, they're all saying you're that dark horse thing, that you might take the championship! What do you say, should we put in a couple of bets?"

Cheng Hong asked, eager to try.

The rest of them also showed expectant expressions one after another.

Clearly, during the time they'd spent in the main hall, they had heard plenty of people around them talking about how much money they'd won gambling, and this kind of unearned wealth was truly tempting.

"Sure, but the bet can only be two thousand at most; I myself only bought two thousand. Losing won't hurt, winning's pretty fun." Baimu naturally wouldn't do something like only allowing officials to light fires while forbidding commoners from doing so.

But gambling really does make people lose their heads easily, so he emphasized the capped amount.

Hearing this, the team members all nodded their heads in pleasant surprise.

——

After the tournament entered the Top 16.

The rewards became quite generous.

Although there was no direct cash prize, a one-year supply of Pokémon custom canned food, an Iron Arena membership card—buying things here at fifteen percent off and the like—were still very appealing to Baimu.

Unfortunately, for the seeded players and championship candidates from previous editions, these things probably couldn't rouse much interest; their main goal was still to act as bookmakers and skim money from those gambling fiends.

Throwing matches was something they didn't dare do—Silver Ape could not tolerate such things—but running underground gambling rings, Silver Ape really didn't bother with.

There was even a rumor that the reason the Iron Arena tournament had endured so long was precisely because Silver Ape had also invested in the gambling, earning terrifyingly huge profits every year.

Baimu had little interest in these matters.

He was more concerned with who his next opponent would be.

Even though he'd long understood it was impossible to take the championship from those wolves and tigers, he still couldn't help feeling a bit of regret.

After all, if he hadn't won the final championship in the simulator, he couldn't win it outside it either.

If only he could be given two more months.

Three months' time, at the current rate of strength growth, reaching executive level—average Pokémon level above fifty—would absolutely be no problem.

By then, even if the top few were at executive level, he wouldn't be afraid.

But unfortunately, he hadn't been given enough time to develop.

On the other side.

As a fairly well-known event within Iron Town, this year's Top 16 slots quickly spread throughout the entire trainer circle.

The familiar yet unfamiliar name Baimu resurfaced in the ears of many people.

Those who couldn't resist their curiosity began searching for information on him, and quickly made great gains—such as his rise to prominence from childhood, and the origins of his several Pokémon.

Apart from Mawile's origins being truly impossible to trace, conclusions had been reached on the other two.

Many people discovered that, in fact, for Baimu to have won all the way to now, the credit split between himself and his Pokémon was fifty-fifty.

Because the trainers who had battled Baimu all gave the conclusion that their own Pokémon seemed to have no secrets in his eyes, and he could always craft tactics specifically targeted at them.

As if he had an Eye of Insight.

Of course, they absolutely would not admit that it was because their own knowledge was too narrow and their commands clumsy; to save face, they chose to lavish Baimu with extravagant praise.

Especially the one from the Top 32—this fellow had a bit of a name for himself at the Iron Arena, having made the Top 16 last year.

So among those praising Baimu, he praised him the hardest, and even specially gave the former a nickname—

"Demon Baimu."

The meaning was roughly that Baimu was as fearsome as a demon.

There was no helping it.

Everyone was, after all, running in the underworld; without making things a bit chuunibyou and hot-blooded, it was hard to brainwash the ordinary members under them.

Actually, the main-series regions also gave champions, Elite Four, and the like some rather cringey-sounding nicknames and titles.

What with Ice-type Kona and Dragon-type messenger Atu, those are already considered normal.

Champion Dan Di is straight-up called "the world's strongest king," clearly not giving a damn about champions from other regions.

And that evening.

Baimu, for the first time ever, was summoned again by team leader Cang Zhi Lang.

The familiar boxing ring.

Same as before — the moment he walked in, gloves were tossed at him.

Only this time, the one trading punches with Baimu wasn't Guai Li, but Cang Zhi Lang himself.

That got him a little fired up.

Cang Zhi Lang definitely wouldn't like his subordinates deliberately going easy and feeding him moves — so didn't that mean he could openly beat up the boss?

Baimu hopped onto the ring, eager to give it a try.

Two minutes later.

Drenched in sweat, he clutched his chest and abdomen and slowly shuffled to the edge of the boxing ring.

"Here!"

Guai Li tossed him a bottle of sports drink.

"Thanks."

Baimu took it and drank, feeling a bit sullen.

If you didn't count the ten punches Cang Zhi Lang had landed on him, the two earliest ones he'd taken from Guai Li had actually been returned.

Sure enough, no matter which world it is, the weight and height advantage of the same type of creature is just an advantage — unless you bring in some weird-colored superpower, you can't break this "common sense."

"Where'd you learn your boxing?"

Cang Zhi Lang's voice came from behind.

He replied, "Figured it out on my own from a textbook. Do you think my stance and all that are correct?"

"Hah, bullshit!"

Cang Zhi Lang let out a contemptuous cold laugh. Obviously he didn't believe Baimu could have self-taught to this level just from reading books — what book could turn a complete amateur, who a month ago only relied on natural talent and knew nothing, into a half-pro overnight?

But the former had no interest in digging deeper; calling him over this time was for another purpose.

"That Kadabra situation of yours — I've smoothed it over for you."

"Eh?"

Baimu turned around, a little confused.

Cang Zhi Lang said, "That Kadabra of yours belongs to a casino under the neighboring Riverbank Association. Its trainer lost all his money, then lost a bunch of Pokémon and racked up a huge debt, and ran off through the mayor's connections. This time they came knocking to take it back."

"……"

"Bring back a good result, or I'll still have to beat you up."

"……Boss."

"Get lost and rest. Don't embarrass the Quicksand Team in tomorrow's match." Cang Zhi Lang gave him the order to leave.

Baimu silently left the boxing ring.

Back on the surface, a cold wind blew and he shivered.

Holy shit.

He almost got successfully PUA'd!

Baimu felt a kinship in his heart — he couldn't help but admit that after the guy painted a big cake, he really did hand over a whole one. This time calling him over, whether you called it encouragement or just getting closer, either worked.

Not to mention he'd also smoothed over the Kadabra situation.

Judging by those little brothers under Cang Zhi Lang, they'd probably be dying to get called in for a beating like that.

"The most adaptable creatures really are humans, huh. Habit is truly terrifying." He sighed,