First fic in a long time so enjoy! Please review! I wanna see how well this type of Jason Statham narration goes down with you guys .

You could say a thick mist filled the young dojo that day, but the weather is one thing; pure and simple sweat is another. On entering the solitude of Torr Dojo any Pokémon's skin, fur, or any other laa dee daa form and shape of body would become moist in seconds. Give it a minute and you'd be soaked. Believe me, rock types were never happy.

Now, the first question asked might be "Hey Duster," that's my name by the way -just checking you got that-, "what on earth is making those poor fools sweat?" Well my dear, I can tell you that an illegal activity takes place in Torr Tuesdays and Thursdays that requires a room to be packed full around a square ring. "Square ring?" You ask, puzzled by the oxymoron. Yes, a boxing ring to be extra precise.

Your next question is quite possibly "What's so illegal about boxing?" Well, regardless if you are in fact asking that or not –I don't really care one way or another- This boxing is unlicensed, meaning the winnings aren't properly recorded nor are they run by the authorities. Betting, fighting, probable injuries and possible death all under a roof no police could even dream to sniff out. It's glorious... for some. For me though?

Well, I've got a fighter. Dashing Danny's his name, a scrappy Scrafty whose hard punch makes up for his lack of brain. However, when you're up against top fighters, and I mean tip tip top of the pop warriors, you need class.

My lad Danny's a fair fighter, but the only thing he's good for is going down in a certain round. And if I put a bet on that match saying he'll go down on round four... he will. All it takes is a whisper before the match. A promise of money... bribery you could say. Now, before you cry Houndoom about fixing matches let me tell you; it ain't me making these decisions. You'll find out who runs the show later.

Back to business anyway, because a fight was about to start. A dark blue neon light shone through the door leading to the arena, the horizontal bamboo walls pointing to it as if it was a shrine to some god. I had just taken a breath of fresh air, like I said the condensation wasn't nice. Funny though, ask any other Grovyle they'd say a bit of musk is perfect. Me? I'd rather pass, got to keep up appearances you know?

I was an average size for a Grovyle, fast on my feet when traversing the wildlife and trees, pretty good hearing and agility and had a stare that made men shiver. Well, that last bit was as realistic as me becoming a millionaire, but regardless I can wish.

Anyway, my best mate Tommy Green Jr was calling me back, excited about something. My guess was the next fighter, an 'interesting prospect' as called by many a partaker in this fine sport. Forgive my sarcasm; I just want to get this part of the story over with. Good may have come from it but bad will always remain in the back of my head.

"Oi Duster!" He called out to me with a twinkle in his eye. The Servine leant against one side of the door, signalling for me to hurry up. "Come on, the fights about to start!"

With a sigh I sped up until I reached him, the bright neon blaze painting my coat blue as I stood opposite him. "Forgive me for wanting to breathe, Tommy. Why, what's so special?"

He turned and entered the large hall, forcing me to follow. A storm of yells and inaudible noise hit me like a brick as I crept in, feeling the added pressure of gazes from a few odd looking Scizors sat around a round table. I gave them a dirty look straight back and carried on.

I was already dripping with sweat mere moments after experiencing the thick humidity of illegal activity. If I was to name every other Pokémon there I'd have died from old age before I finished this first chapter. Machokes, Machamps, Hitmonlees, Hitmonchans...

To be honest I don't know why I'm listing anything. Any common fighting Pokemon was here, along with a ramble of spectators that stood out as much as a Servine and Grovyle. And at the centre was the almighty alter, the Ring, where money is won or lost, and more often than not where the fates of trainers and trainees alike are decided.

On the far side of the room was a bar; one easily set up and just as easily taken apart. No matter what happened it was busy till morning; after that it had to pack up in fear of being discovered by unwanted guests.

As I looked around I tried to find our boy Dashing Danny. Even though the neon was bright it didn't exactly help our eyes when everyone was focusing on the ring. There were a few dim lights on the roof but they did nothing while the music blared and the party raged on.

Once we were right in the thick of it Tommy pulled me closer. "That Lucario's fighting next. The young one, y'know?"

I did know and was pretty annoyed at Tommy if that was all he dragged me back in that pithole to say. "Yes Tommy, I've known for about two weeks now. It isn't exactly a state secret. What's your point?"

"Well..." Wait. Before he says it let me just say I nearly killed him in those next few moments. Regardless of me knowing him since we were kids, regardless of us sticking through thick and thin I was ready to commit murder there and then. "...I've put all our money on the Machamp to win in the third round."

I'd like to say what words ran through my head but I'm afraid they might make Charizards cry. The neon blue probably mixed well with the red on my face as my body shook in anger. I tried to keep myself collected, speaking with a hiss rather than a shout. "You what, Tommy?"

I watched as Tommy's smile faded and his eyes widened in worry. With a bit less enthusiasm he answered "The, er... Lucario..."

It soon dawned on me that screaming my lungs out would achieve nothing but embarrassment, so with every spec of willpower contained in my puny body I managed to keep it cool, talking slowly and quietly. "I don't care about the damn Lucario, I know its Lucario vs Machamp. What I want to know is what lunacy has spawned within your hollow head that would lead you to do such a thing?"

Tommy moved in even closer now, his eyes darting about seeking any eavesdroppers. "The-" He quickly halted his speech as two Sandlashes crept by us, too close for comfort in Tommy's eyes. Once they left he deemed it safe to continue. "The Lucario's been told by the Boss to go down in the third. Don't worry, its... y'know... 'f'd'."

"Nevermind the fight, Tommy, we're gonna be 'f'd' soon enough." I replied with bemusement.

He rolled his eyes and tried to explain. "Nah, Duster, not that kind of 'f'd', I meant fi-"

With a swift jab to his stomach I shut him up. "I know what you meant you idiot, we've been doing it our entire career anyway." Tommy slumped down, holding his belly in pain. "Don't be blabbering off about this and that around me."

"You've also got a big mouth for someone so secretive."

I narrowed my eyes at his remark, knowing that Tommy means nothing much when he says things out of frustration. "Don't be getting cheeky now."

With a single glance to the left of the ring my blood ran cold. I saw a Gallade, well, the Gallade. He was the Boss, the Big Balls round here. Shade was his name. Shade The Blade. A Gallade named Shade The Blade. I had my own nickname for him though.

"Tommy look," I said, pointing with my eyes "Its Shade The Gallade Who'll Stick His Blade In Your Chest And Enjoy Watching You Die Because You Put His Money On A Bet." With a nervous laugh I saw Tommy's face drop even more.

"H... He wasn't supposed to be here today." The green in the Servine's face turned pale like a dying leaf. The noise in the room died down dramatically as Shade entered the room, all eyes fixated on his intimidating stature and prowess.

With a whisper I warned "Of course he's here, he owns the damn Lucario, and you've put what money should have been his on a bet."

The neon changed over to regular spotlights which shone onto the ring. Every faced viewed Shade in awe as he slid onto the boxing ring, taking up the microphone as the announcer for the next fight.

"Ready yourselves, Friends and foes, for a fight that'll be quite unforgettable." He said with a gravelly voice, menacingly calm for someone with so much hanging by a thread. "My next fighter is one of great potential. I have trained this one since he was very young, and I am certain he will be the next biggest star in boxing. Without further ado, please welcome Eoghan!"

The crowd roared in cheer and applause as a young Lucario made his way into the ring. I noticed his face was facing the ground; his eyes glued to the floor. I reckoned it was probably due to nerves; after all you've got hundreds of others with money on you eyeing your every movement. He was a lad, literally, quite young for a boxer. But, you know what they say about starting young.

Once Eoghan had set himself down in one corner of the ring Shade winked at him, then took the microphone once again. "And now, the Machoke we all know and love, he who split three bricks with one fist, please welcome to the ring: Ryior!"

A second wave of noise erupts in joy of Ryior's appearance. He was a family favourite, known for getting the job done by spectators and doing it well by trainers. On that day I though he was a good match for someone going down in the third round, though I'd be lying if I said I didn't worry for the kid. His trademark was that he painted gold over his veins, which believe me he had an abundance of. You couldn't miss him.

In a funny yet expected contrast Ryior's entrance was one of waving to his fans and messing about before he entered the ring, catching the uncanny eye of Eoghan as he vaulted over the rope. Once they were both set in opposite corners Shade left the arena, patting the Lucario on the shoulder before he jogged off to his seat.

I didn't necessarily want to hear it but Tommy felt the need to reassure me. "Don't worry. Third round he'll go down. We'll get the money. Shade'll be happy, we'll be happy, smiles."

"Very funny Tommy." I said with a stern face as I rubbed my head. "If only life was all smiles..."

Suddenly the bells rang. My heart jumped as the two competitors burst forward and circled each other, each waiting for the first move. I watched with anticipation, hoping the bells would ring soon and this round be instantly over.

That however, was not the case.

It was like ice had made its way up my rear end and into my heart in those seconds. And by the look on Tommy's face a few spikes had gone up his. The first move had been made by Ryior who lunged forward with a jab. Eoghan took the punch and stumbled, the crowd releasing an 'ooh' in unison. Milliseconds after though the Lucario's fist rose up with a purpose.

And what a purpose that was. The strength and placement of that punch was legendary. It struck Ryior square in the face and sent him crashing down, out as cold as the icicles up my backside. Eoghan stood with a smile, keeping his feet moving as if saying he's ready for another attack even though he knew full well Ryior wasn't getting up for another day or two.

"Tommy," I said with what air I could muster "we are fucked."