Chapter 85: Ultimate Counterattack

"Spinning Kick!"

The giant pressed the advantage, refusing to let Kodala go, determined to finish it off in one blow.

"Iron Wall!"

Baimu still foolishly chose defense.

The giant didn't understand what the opponent planned to do or what surprise tactic he intended to use—he only knew that no matter what move came next, he had to kill the Pokémon before it could execute it!

The Fighting-type spun forward, its two legs and tail whipping into nothing but blurs, terrifying to behold.

But Kodala was not afraid.

On the contrary, it roared loudly, as if welcoming the Fighting-type, allowing the silver ring to envelop its entire body as it charged straight toward the incoming opponent!

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

A storm of spinning kicks instantly slammed against Kodala's forehead!

Normally, two Iron Walls would reduce a quadruple-weakness Fighting-type physical move to nearly single strength—but as previously noted, the boost skill no longer scales by percentage; it depends entirely on move proficiency.

In other words, even with two Iron Walls, Kodala had not negated its quadruple weakness.

It was struck again!

But.

Unlike last time when it was flung backward, the injured Kodala now stood firm, gritting its teeth and holding its head against the Fighting-type's kicks, its eyes filled with Xiong Xiong fury and unyielding resolve.

Baimu shouted at once, "Hold on! You can do it!"

"Guh—Duo!"

Kodala responded with a muffled roar, fixing its gaze on the Fighting-type right before it, its HP steadily draining while its spirit continued to rise!

In that instant.

The arena seemed to fall silent, utterly still.

Baimu and Kodala had both entered a miraculous state, oblivious to everything outside.

Then.

"Now! Brutal Force!"

As if possessed by Kodala, he unleashed a suppressed, explosive roar, "Crash into it!"

"Guduo!!"

Kodala roared in unison, summoning its last ounce of strength, all four hooves slamming down as it released a blinding Bai Guang and slammed back into the Fighting-type!

Thud!

The air exploded with a crack!

What immense power!

Even the Fighting-type, which had been kicking Kodala without mercy, turned pale, its face twisting as it was flung backward.

The giant stared in disbelief; the commentator screamed wildly:

"Kodala! Kodala used Brutal Force! A move triggered at the limit of its HP! What terrifying power! Viewers, this is a move that returns all the damage it has taken!"

"Look! Look where the Fighting-type landed! It fell right into the still-spinning dust storm! Did Baimu plan this all along?"

As he spoke, the dust storm swallowing the Fighting-type slowly cleared.

Its head was buried deep in a massive crater, upside-down, sticking out like a carrot.

Beeep—

A shrill alarm blared.

"Ladies and gentlemen, AI confirms the Fighting-type has lost its ability to battle—the first Pokémon to fall in this match is here—ah, Kodala! Kodala has collapsed too!"

The commentator looked sadly at Kodala, lying motionless not far away.

"It seems Brutal Force drained all its HP—but we must thank Kodala for showing us another stunning reversal, another underdog victory! Mr. Bai Niao, what do you think?"

"Huh… hahaha… Yes, you're right."

Bai Niao's lips twitched—he finally understood. This commentator was absolutely targeting him.

Why?

Did they have a grudge?

It seemed his relentless bashing of Baimu had given the commentator a sensational talking point—and now he wouldn't let go.

Bai Niao suddenly regretted taking the giant's money, and cursed him in his mind until his blood ran black.

Idiot! Even a child could turn the tide on him!

Said he'd guarantee top four? Go to hell!

Get past Baimu first!

Inside the arena.

The giant's mood had also shattered—his Fighting-type had just begun to rise, had just forced Kodala into a corner, and now it had all reversed.

Where did Kodala learn Brutal Force? The intel never mentioned it! And could it even use Brutal Force?

The giant's mind spun in confusion.

On the other side.

Baimu felt slight regret, but still smiled and patted Kodala's head. "Good job. You fought a magnificent battle. Rest now."

Evolution requires a trigger—this counterattack hadn't seized it.

But as long as he kept going, he'd find it eventually—even without battle, evolution was possible. There were countless examples from other regions where Pokémon evolved without fighting.

"It's time to keep moving toward victory."

He threw the Poké Ball.

The flashing Bai Guang successfully snapped the giant's focus back—but unquestionably, he had lost the initiative.

As for that.

The giant could only gamble that Flyleg would wake up quickly.

Facing the Big Mouth Pokémon that had landed, he sent out Flyleg, still in sleep.

Baimu, as always, gave no opening, letting Bigmouth Kid continuously use Fairy Wind to deliver a nightmare to the latter; by the time Flyleg finally awoke, it was already utterly sore and exhausted.

Unable even to stand, it could only collapse.

What made the giant feel even more desperate was that, right after defeating Flyleg and gasping for breath, Bigmouth Kid immediately activated 【Charge】 and 【Swallow】, boosting both its defenses and partially restoring its stamina.

Even if Fastfist Kid still had one fist left, there was no possibility of a comeback.

In the broadcast studio.

The host remained enthusiastic, occasionally turning to ask White Bird beside him, who could only force a awkward smile and mutter pale remarks like "Winning and losing is common in war," "Baimu's luck is truly good," "If I were up there, I'd win," and such.

This made many viewers burst into laughter; the arena was filled with joy.

Everyone was not deaf—White Bird was blatantly trampling on Baimu to hype up the giant, yet the giant failed to deliver! He was utterly overturned by an underdog!

The gamblers tore up their tickets and cursed White Bird.

"What the hell did you say that for?!"

"What a shitty guest! Hmph~spit!"

"What kind of weird thing came out of Silicon Beryllium City?!"

"I believed your lies! I added money last-minute and bought ***—and this is what I got?!"

"I even swapped tickets with someone! I regret it so much!"

Wails filled the side betting on the giant, while those who backed Baimu as the dark horse laughed hysterically; outside the arena, Cheng Hong and others screamed until hoarse.

We got rich! Even if it was only a small fortune, we got rich!

The match to advance from the sixteen to the eight also ended with the arena's concluding tone, drawing to a close.

"Let us congratulate Baimu for advancing to the top eight!"

The host's excited voice echoed endlessly above the arena.

In the competitors' lounge.

"Looks like my next opponent will be you."

The boy watched the screen, a smile on his lips.

He was precisely the one who had locked eyes with Baimu earlier—though he had not yet fought, he already believed himself certain of victory, even predicting his next opponent.

——

"You made a killing, Brother Baimu."

"You got rich, Brother Baimu."

"Your future is limitless, Brother Baimu."

As soon as Baimu stepped out, he was surrounded by grinning teammates, patting their bulging pockets, grinning from ear to ear.

"Alright, I made a bit of cash—enough to show off."

He laughed, reaching out to tap each of them on the head once, saying: "I'm warning you—no more betting next time. We stop when we win."

"Hey—Baimu's on a roll! Everyone's guessing your new odds! I heard some gamblers went crazy and pushed your odds to the extreme!"

After winning money, Cheng Hong got a bit too cocky, babbling nonstop, spouting gambling jargon wildly.

Baimu said nothing, just silently watched him.

Those around sensed the shift and fell silent, stopping their teasing.

Cheng Hong's voice gradually faded; seeing Baimu's inscrutable expression, he looked crestfallen.

"If there's a chance to win, I don't mind you buying one or two tickets—I consider that 'earning money.'"

He said seriously: "But now I have no confidence. I know I may have reached my limit. If you bet now, it's gambling—betting on something I don't even believe in myself. I don't approve of that."

It wasn't a ban, not a strict prohibition—it was disapproval.

Baimu looked at them all: "I can't take responsibility for everyone. I don't dare call myself captain, or even a leader who struts around and demands absolute obedience."

"I can only warn you: gambling leads to addiction. The odds of it harming you are far greater than helping you. You—you, we, the people of Cesium Street—don't we know how bad gambling is? Haven't we been tricked and abused by casinos enough times?"

"Besides, we don't have enough chips to gamble with. Every bet should be made with the resolve to risk your life—not to get a little cash and feel proud…"

He sighed. "I really don't want to lecture. I have no right to lecture. But I truly don't want any of you to step into this abyss and never come out."

Baimu pushed past the teammates and walked silently toward the exit.

Cheng Hong and the others exchanged glances, unable to speak for a long while—until the first one pulled a brand-new bet ticket from his pocket and tore it in half.

"My uncle… he became a useless wreck because he gambled and got into debt—then the casino cut off one of his hands. I forgot. Bastard!"

He slapped himself hard, then ran after Baimu.

The others silently pulled out their secretly bought tickets for the next round, tore them up, slapped themselves, and chased after Baimu.

Only Cheng Hong remained behind, muttering to himself.

"I always drag Baimu down. I'm such a waste." He was the only one who hadn't secretly bought a ticket for the next round—but he slapped himself the hardest.

Only when he felt somewhat satisfied did Cheng Hong run after him.

Those in the lounge looked at each other, completely clueless as to what had just happened.