Unfortunately, Aihara Take's opponent was far too weak and got swept by his Heracross.
Worth mentioning was that after the match, the organizers asked Aihara Take a question during his interview.
"Contestant Aihara, who do you think your opponent in the next round will be?"
Aihara Take froze. They were asking him to predict the next match's outcome.
After pondering for a moment, he chose the answer most popular in the comments: "Both contestants are geniuses, so it should be an evenly matched battle. I don't know who will win... But no matter which one advances, neither can defeat me."
"I am the strongest!"
"The championship of this tournament is already mine."
In other words: I'm not targeting anyone in particular. Everyone here is trash.
At that, the European audience erupted into furious curses.
Aihara Take merely sneered at the abuse. After traveling across countries all over the world this past year, he had long since grown accustomed to fighting on the road.
The more the audience cursed, the more excited he became.
"Ding!"
The bell rang in the contestants' room. It was the signal...
Roy stretched, put on his red-and-white baseball cap, and slipped on his black fingerless gloves.
"Momo!"
Cosmog hopped onto Roy's shoulder to cheer him on.
Its two cotton-like hands really did resemble the pom-poms held by cheerleaders.
During competitions back home, someone would always look after Cosmog for Roy. Here, however, Cosmog could only enter the arena with him.
Roy tugged at the edge of his gloves, flexed his fingers to get a feel for them, then smiled faintly. "—I'm in peak condition."
"Welcome, everyone, to the final match of the round of thirty-two!" The commentator's impassioned voice echoed through the stadium.
"Entering from the west gate is the pride of France, the lofty flower