Won?
They won!
Pecharunt stared around in a daze. A thunderous roar of cheers washed over him, and he flopped to the ground as though all his strength had left him.
"Moch..."
The cheering abruptly died down. Countless spectators looked on in shock.
Had he fainted?
Was the Orre Champion's legend about to be broken?
No. Pecharunt lay on his back, panting as he quietly calmed his racing heart.
So this was a Pokémon battle. It felt...
Awful!!
Pecharunt shot back to Baimu's side, tugged at his shoulder with his little hands, and cried out in protest. "Moch! Moch!"
He was never battling again!
Not if his life depended on it!
Baimu reached back and rubbed his head. "As long as you behave, I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do."
Baimu hadn't understood why Pecharunt had entered the battle at first. But judging by his performance afterward and the Loyal Three's excitement, the reason was clear.
Their determination to fight had inspired Pecharunt to volunteer.
That deserved praise.
After all, Baimu desperately wanted to see goodness in Pokémon, even in Bad Peach.
He believed that if Pecharunt could change his twisted ways—feeding people Poison Mochi and indulging their greed without restraint—he could fit into modern society perfectly well.
There was no helping it. People had to adapt to their surroundings; few could change them.
"Moch..."
Pecharunt was a little indignant, but he didn't dare show it.
He didn't think he'd done anything wrong. What was so bad about wanting to sleep beside a person?
He'd stolen the Dreepy Siblings' spot?
Their names weren't written on it!
Pecharunt had a bit of a scoundrel's streak, but he was timid by nature. He could grumble to himself, but saying any of that aloud was out of the