The Foul-Breathed Dragon

"Hiss—"

Sitting on the edge of the bed with his head finally free, Baimu drew a breath. He had not even wiped the saliva off his face, and his chest was still rising and falling.

Hydreigon had not bitten down any harder on his head than it did on his hand, but its saliva really did stink, and there was a lot of it. One lick from that huge tongue had knocked the breath out of him. He had nearly been reincarnated a second time.

His life had all but flashed before his eyes. He had been one step away from declaring that he could die without regrets.

Luckily, Mawile, Aggron, and the others had rescued him in time. One of his two heavy hitters pried open its jaws while the other pulled his head free, and the rest tugged on its tails.

They finally forced Hydreigon to open its enormous maw.

Come to think of it...

What would happen if he really died?

He would probably become a wandering ghost, like in the animated series, before a Ghost-type Pokémon such as Duskull took him to the mysterious Spirit World.

How did that saying go?

The chances of being murdered by your own Pokémon were small, but never zero.

After catching his breath for a while, his body and mind settled completely. He patted Blissey beside him. "Don't worry. I'm not that easy to kill."

"Happy~"

Blissey set down the glass of water in her hands, still worried, and wiped the saliva off his face with a towel.

Not far away...

Hydreigon was surrounded by the other Pokémon and being given a stern lecture. It had been acting like a troublesome kid for ages, but this was the first time things had gone this far.

Their Trainer had been bitten