Giovanni slammed the newspaper onto his desk. So, the twerp who defeated him at the Viridian Gym two years prior was now being hailed as the Kanto Pokémon Master.
Angered, the former Gym Leader stood and began to pour some whisky in a highball glass. The more he contemplated the matter, however, the less surprising it was. The child- no, the trainer was in his mid-twenties at the time- had shown proficiency and skill, combining the right techniques with a good mixture of items that, in the end, resulted in the Leader's defeat.
Defeat. Giovanni took a large swig from his glass. He'd lost more than a Pokémon battle that day; after those grinding thirty minutes, he'd lost his grip on Team Rocket as well. Of course, Giovanni lead Kanto to believe that the criminal organization disbanded, when in reality it hadn't. But Red's constant interference with operations (such as the disasters in Celadon and Saffron) led not only to many Grunt's departing the organization, but Kanto as a whole uprising against the dwindling organization.
Giovanni sneered as he took another drink. The war had paved way for Team Rocket's creation. The fighting between various regions left not only a decreased population, but destruction of property, separation of governments, and shattered dreams. And amidst all those broken pieces Team Rocket had slid in the cracks, taking advantage of the lawless land and profiting off one of the few things that remained: Pokémon.
Or at least, that was what Team Rocket had been doing until Red came along. Now Giovanni had been reduced to hiding in the shadows, conducting his affairs at a cabin in the rural exterior of Mount Moon.
The leader of the crime syndicate walked to the window and peered at the mountain range below. Team Rocket may not hold the glory it once had, but after its initial fall it was beginning to regain some of its traction.
"Let them have this victory," Giovanni said as his Persian joined him at the window, "For one day they will remember the power Team Rocket truly holds,"