Well, he'd found all the workers that Caroline had been talking about.

It was a right and proper mess. Construction tools everywhere, drills whirring loudly, burly men and women yelling and talking over each other. Hop didn't blame the Pokémon for going into hiding—he wouldn't be able to deal with this kind of mess in and around his home, either. As he followed his escort, he was having a tough time even hearing his own thoughts.

As they crossed a wooden bridge, Hop kept an eye on the kind of apparel the workers were adorned in. Standard fare for what he assumed was permissible in this kind of environment, but there were curious spots upon some of the miners' uniforms where the logos were conveniently absent. Breast pockets, hardhats, and other areas where an emblem or identifier would normally be found were completely wiped. Beyond not wanting to be seen, it was apparent that a subsection of the people working here didn't want to be linked back to an employer.

Hop was nobody's conspiracy theorist, but it was hard to deny the facts of the situation. Caroline had given them fair warning that something shady might have been going on in the mine, and had also given them the tip that Macro Cosmos might have had a hand in it. Objectively, it would be a bad look for them to be wrapped up in some odd dealings in the mine, so they'd naturally want to ensure that they were cleared of any and all suspicion.

But that only begged the question—what could Macro Cosmos possibly want from a mine as old as this one? He'd inquired as much a few days ago, and in the time since had yet to come up with an answer. With careful glances, he tried to peek at what the miners were digging up from the rocky walls and ground. It all looked like different variations of rocks to him, but it was hard to tell from a distance.

The noise and activity eventually died down, as Hop was led down a narrower passage along the tunnel. He had to be close to the exit now, considering how long he'd been walking. Admittedly, this wasn't an excursion he'd look back on with great fondness, but there wasn't much he could do about it. It wasn't like he could complain to Macro Cosmos about it, anyway.

A larger clearing opened up space along the end of the tunnel, briefly illuminated by daylight pouring in from what Hop assumed to be the exit. What had his main focus, however, was the figure standing smack-dab in the middle of the clearing, chatting in low tones with what looked to be another miner.

"Wait here," the man instructed Hop, who complied. He decided to provide Wooloo with some water as his escort came to a stop beside the figure, who Hop could have sworn he'd seen from somewhere before. "Excuse me, sir," the man interjected.

Whoever it was didn't seem thrilled by the interruption. "I'm busy. What is it?"

"I've brought you the trainer you requested."

That seemed to perk the stranger up some. "Really? Have you now?" Turning, a familiar smug expression reintroduced itself to Hop. "Well then, it's nice to finally have a chance to chat with you alone, Cassius—"

He froze. "Wait. You aren't him."

Hop finally remembered who the figure was. "Wait a minute, I know you from the ceremony! Started with a... uh..." It clicked. "Bede! Chairman's trainer! That's who you are!"

The particularly rude challenger didn't seem very excited to see him. Bede angrily turned to his former escort. "I told you to bring me the one named Cassius."

The man didn't know what to tell him. "Your orders were to bring you the annoying trainer from the post-ceremony press conference. You didn't give me a name."

"Because it should have been obvious, you lout!"

Hop didn't take very kindly to being called annoying. This Bede fellow had already grated on his nerves in their first and second encounters, and he really wasn't willing to go a third time 'round.

"Just... go," Bede eventually settled after taking a breath. "Tell the crews to finish up and leave before the rush starts." The two miners went back from the way that Hop had come from, leaving him alone with the fellow challenger.

Not wasting time on pleasantries, Hop got to the point. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be training?" His eyes narrowed. "And what were you doing with those workers? They spoke like they knew you."

"I'm not obligated to answer any of your asinine questions," Bede quickly countered, rubbing his temples in annoyance. "Useless, all of them. I ask for one thing, and they somehow manage to botch even that. It's a wonder anything gets done when the labor is this dense."

Wooloo tensed up, growling slightly. Hop was feeling a little icky around him too, but he didn't want to rush into a conflict. At least not before learning what it was his fellow high-profile trainer was doing here.

"So. Macro Cosmos is here?" Bede's lack of a response was answer enough. "And I suppose you're here overseeing them, as a representative of the chairman. But why's Rose got you babysitting during the challenge?"

"That's Chairman Rose to you," Bede growled. "I'd watch your tone, Dande. Chairman Rose could easily have you and that oaf you call a brother expelled indefinitely from the league."

"Not so sure he'd go for that, mate. Last I checked, people watch the Gym Challenge for the trainers and the champion, not the chairman." Hop wasn't a fan of utilizing Leon as a crutch like this, but it was better than letting Bede undermine him.

Bede snorted. "Hiding behind your brother. Is that common for you? You got that fancy endorsement from him, but I wonder about that. Smells like nepotism at play."

"Why don't you find out?" Hop made a subtle move to Grookey's Poké Ball, and Wooloo tensed itself in preparation for a battle. However, Bede just rolled his eyes, lazily putting a hand in his pocket. "And just why should I waste my time on the likes of you? I've much more important things to do than entertain you and that pathetic excuse you call a team."

"Like what?" Hop prompted. "Whatever it is you're doing here with Macro Cosmos? By all means, tell me. I've been dying to know."

Another beat of defiant silence from the purple-clad teen. Hop continued. "And what do you want with Cassius? Don't recall you two having any kind of beef."

And just like that, Bede's visage turned to one of barely restrained rage. "That buffoon thought it would be funny to make a fool of me during the post-ceremony presser. Just for a chance to impress that bumpkin whore from Spikemuth."

"If memory serves, you started that entire confrontation," Hop reminded him. "Insulted Dark-types, called her hometown a backwater cesspit, and called Cassius an Average Joe. Seems to me you brought that on yourself."

"Hanging on my every word, were we?"

"As someone from a so-called backwater cesspit myself, I can relate a little bit to outsiders calling us regular folk no-good hicks."

"It doesn't matter," Bede gnashed. "Not like what I said was wrong, anyway. No one embarrasses me like that without repercussion. Least of all some no-name trainer dug up from a retirement home in Unova." His eyes narrowed. "Clearly, Leon's poor eye for talent runs beyond just you."

Hop didn't know how a standard vetting process worked for other endorsed trainers. Maybe Bede was an exceptional liar and actor, but it was hard to see how he could have possibly earned an endorsement given his natural ornery temperament. Especially from the chairman, of all people.

The young man sighed. He was already regretting this, but he had to ask. "Why do you battle?"

Bede's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, mate. Not a hard question. What made you decide to become a Pokémon trainer?"

Hop wasn't going to kid himself. Not everyone participating in the Gym Challenge would have pure intentions when making their way through the circuit. For some, the notoriety that came with victory was an addictive thing. Even more so when you were rewarded for it with fame and money. In the case of some young trainers with prodigious battling talent, a false sense of superiority corrupted them into thinking their strength gave them the right to act without consequence.

"As if you could ever understand," Bede scoffed. "I'm aware this won't resonate with you, but some people are destined for greatness from birth. If the entire region were led by common riff-raff sporting average talent, then we'd all be doomed, wouldn't we?"

He placed a hand upon his chest. "I am that greatness. The trainer that will surpass the common rubbish in the circuit, the gym leaders, and even that oafish false champion Leon." He scowled. "Those idiots couldn't see it, but Chairman Rose, in his infinite wisdom, chose me as his endorsed trainer for the Gym Challenge. Because, as the most important man in Galar, he needed a trainer that would reflect his prestige and power."

Bede pointed a finger at him. "Chairman Rose means more to this region than Leon, and by extension, that makes me more important than any of you lot. More than you, more than Hargreaves, more than Victoria, and more than the Spikemuth slut."

Hop was beginning to see the full picture. A very, very sad picture. "So then, you don't battle for the thrill of it. You battle because you think you're better than everyone else."

"At least you could gather that much," Bede conceded.

Hop shook his head sadly. "I'm not sure what the chairman sees in you, but I'm starting to think it was—"

"Chairman. Rose." Bede ground out, correcting him. Hop's expression remained neutral, but he didn't make to correct himself.

He was never one to judge a person from a select few early encounters, but it was becoming harder to deny reality. Bede was a narcissist, quick-tempered, and an all-around unpleasant person. But Hop supposed that wasn't much of a surprise.

He wasn't going to pretend to know everything about Bede. But as the white-haired trainer broke into a burst of laughter, Hop wasn't going to fool himself into dredging up empathy for him either.

"You know what?" Bede was smiling now. An angry, haughty thing that brought great unease upon Hop. "I've changed my mind. If I can't beat up on Hargreaves, I suppose you'll be a fitting substitute. Serves you right for wasting my time with that incessant blathering of yours."

Hop met the challenge, taking a stance without a word. Bede palmed a Poké Ball of his own, removing his hand from his coat pocket. "What, no more funny quips?"

Hop had nothing left to say. Bede's grip on the ball tightened. "Fine. By the time I'm through with you, not even your idiot brother will want to associate with you."

"Energy readings stable. Plant output at expected levels. We're ready when you are, madam secretary."

"Prep the failsafe, and double-check the backup generators. Hold until my go-ahead." The woman turned. "Are the Wishing Stars ready?"

"Yes ma'am. Insertion on your say so."

The door to the room opened, and in walked the most important man in the region. "Ah, there you are, Oleana. How are you this evening?"

"Occupied," Oleana replied curtly, not so much as taking her eyes off of the large screen in front of her and a plethora of other operators. "Is there something you needed, President Rose?"

Rose came to a stop next to her, hands clasped behind his back as he looked on with an easy smile. "Oh, nothing in particular. Just here to watch."

Which was all he'd been doing in recent days. "Sir, permission to speak freely?"

"You've never needed to ask, Oleana."

"I fail to see much of a point behind this exercise," the president's secretary continued.

Still, Rose kept that smile on his face. "It's so that we can ensure the plant doesn't blow up the entire city when presented with an increase in normal energy output, my dear."

"I'm well aware. However, this is our fourth test in the past month. There's little data left to be found, exempting marginal outliers."

Rose hummed. "Even an outlier can present a problem, in the event we aren't prepared for it."

While Oleana was inclined to agree, this went beyond an abundance of caution. "Should you not be involving yourself with the Gym Challenge's affairs?"

This time, the president's smile faded. "Goodness, not you too. They've practically locked me away inside the Turf for the past week. I'd say I'm plenty involved with the affairs of the challenge at the moment."

"You are the chairman of the league that runs the circuit," Oleana reminded him. "It is expected that you would be there to support the trainers participating. You're aware that Milo appreciates your presence as well."

"I'm not sure how he does it," Rose marveled. "Battling that many trainers consecutively, day in and day out, for an entire month. I grow tired just thinking about it."

Never mind that he was once a Pokémon trainer too.

One of the employees manning a desk turned to her. "Failsafe is secure, ma'am. Team is on standby." Oleana nodded. "Insert the Wishing Stars. Increase output by five percent, and hold. Proceed to ten percent on my go-ahead."

Rose's smile had returned. "Has young Bede checked in lately?"

"Is now an appropriate time to ask, sir?" His smiling visage didn't change, answering that question for her. She sighed, turning to the head operator. "Energy and temperature steady?"

"Yes, ma'am. Both are rising within expected parameters."

Oleana returned her attention to the chairman. "Bede called a week ago and yesterday. According to him, the operation in the Galar Mine has suffered no setbacks."

"And do our friends in Turffield agree?"

"Yes. Though they have expressed concern over a... partial lack of subtlety. I'm having Public Relations look into it."

"So ambitious, that boy," Rose didn't seem very concerned. Then again, when did he ever? "I do hope he's keeping himself well. For all his talent, he'd run himself ragged if given the chance."

To Oleana, that was only one of the many underlying issues with the president's protégé, but it was not her place to comment on such matters. He was not a logistics problem—if only it were as simple as correcting a few numbers.

Rose walked slowly to the center of the room. "Can we get a live feed on the big screen, please?" A few seconds later, and a camera capturing the massive plant beneath Hammerlocke. "Thank you kindly."

"We've reached five percent increased output, madam secretary."

"Anything on site?"

"No, ma'am. No overflow reported so far. Conditions of critical components are intact and stable."

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Rose whispered with a sigh. "The pinnacle of modern engineering and Dynamax energy, coalescing as one beautiful sum."

"Increase to ten percent," Oleana prompted. Another operator turned to the secretary. "Ma'am, the Rangers are reporting increased activity of Dynamax Pokémon in and around the Wild Area."

"What areas?"

"Confirmed sightings in Hammerlocke Hills, Lake of Outrage, and Giant's Cap." The operator put a hand to the receiver on her ear. "Just got word of a sighting in Dusty Bowl, too."

Four separate subregions so far, and they hadn't even reached ten percent. "And what are the threat levels?"

"Levels one and two across all reported subregions, and level threes reported in the Lake of Outrage and Giant's Cap, respectively." Another brief moment of silence as more information filtered in. "The sighting in Dusty Bowl is a level four."

That was new. Ones and twos were expected, even threes on occasion. This was the first instance in which a four had been reported.

"See?" Rose addressed his secretary, nodding to the operator. "Outliers."

"Should we end the exercise?" Another operator asked. Rose quickly disregarded that notion. "Heavens, no. Not when we've already come this far. I trust in the talent and capabilities of our fine Pokémon Rangers to quickly resolve this matter."

Rose's eyes returned to the screen. "Ah! There it is!"

The reactor was overflowing with Dynamax energy. Small amounts of the brilliant, shining energy trickled from the plant, harmlessly making contact around the plant.

"Overflow reported at three separate junctures. Escaped Dynamax energy has been confirmed pure and non-lethal. Non-storage critical components still intact, ma'am."

"What's the temperature?" Oleana asked.

"Within parameters. One-point-two degrees over expected precise value."

Oleana had seen enough. "Start the coolant system, and ready the removal team. We're finished." No sooner had she finished saying that did another figure enter the room.

"Chairman?" The undersecretary announced herself, heels clacking on the marble floor. "You've received a call from the league. They'd like to speak with you right away. They say it's urgent."

"I'm out of office, Anne," Rose stretched his shoulders, unconcerned. "Tell them they're more than welcome to schedule an appointment with me at their earliest convenience."

"Hammerlocke's mayor is with them, sir."

Oleana was keen to notice the man stop his stretching. After a moment, Rose sighed. "Very well. Inform them I'm on my way."

Before he left, he gave a parting look back to his secretary. "I trust you have everything handled here?"

Oleana nodded. "Yes, sir."

That small smile of his grew. "Wonderful."

Credit where credit was due. Bede hadn't earned his endorsement on reputation alone.

"Grookey, make some distance!" The Chimp Pokémon angled away from its opponent, growling all the while. The annoyed sentiment was shared by his trainer.

"Running away? After all that talk?" Bede taunted. "I suppose battling for the thrill of it doesn't mean much without actual talent to back it up."

Goodness, he was annoying. And so was his Hatenna—though its typing didn't present much of a disadvantage, it was more its moveset that was giving him and Grookey fits.

Sure enough, once it was clear that Grookey wasn't preparing to immediately reengage, Bede smirked. "Life Dew, Hatenna." With a small cry, the Fairy-type scattered a misty wreath of water in its vicinity, sighing softly as the water made comforting contact upon itself. Hop clicked his tongue—that was the third time he'd used that move, and the third time that any meaningful progress of his against his opponent had been negated.

Hop was prepared for a fight against any team or Pokémon employing a healing strategy, but that didn't make it any more enjoyable to deal with. "Reckon Grookey's done enough damage against your Hatenna to make it faint about three times over by now."

"What? Gonna cry to Leon about it?" Bede made a sad face in mock gesture. "It's hardly my fault you aren't equipped to deal with a battling strategy that extends beyond attacking and dodging."

"Not unequipped. Just annoyed," Hop corrected. "Use Taunt, Grookey."

With a snarl, the Grass-type, banged its stick against the ground, beckoning its opponent forth with a finger. It seemed more like a tantrum than anything else, and for a short while, nothing happened. After a few seconds and screeching, however, Hatenna began growling in response, clearly having enough of the gesture.

Bede wasn't impressed. "I fail to see the meaning in not using that move earlier. Don't tell me you actually forgot your own Pokémon knew Taunt."

"Obviously not," Hop rolled his eyes. "Grookey only got the move down pat yesterday. Was hoping to fine-tune it a bit before my gym fight in Turffield." He gave Bede an accusing look. "You seem like the type to leak my Pokémon's moves anonymously to the tabloids, anyway."

"As if I care about you that much," Bede sneered. "Disarming Voice, Hatenna!"

And here was the other annoying part of Bede's strategy. A damaging move that bypassed accuracy and always hit. Every time Grookey got close, Disarming Voice would force him away. And every time he was forced away, Life Dew was applied. Exposure to the strategy would provide valuable experience in dealing with it in the future, but in the present, it was just a pain. Grookey was likely having similar thoughts, as he put his hands to his ears in vain against the beam of pink soundwaves.

For now, he didn't have to worry about Hatenna healing itself. And while he would have liked to take advantage of the Psychic-type's less-than-stellar physical defense, he supposed a different approach wouldn't hurt. At the very least, it would be good practice. "Razor Leaf, Grookey!"

With another shout, a glow emanated from the tuft atop Grookey's head. Razor-like projectiles in the shape of leaves shot out, aimed at Hatenna. Not being a particularly fast Pokémon, Hatenna had little choice but to bear the brunt of the attack with a grimace.

Bede was already calling out a counteroffensive. "Confusion, now." Recovering quickly, Hatenna was more than willing to retaliate against the Pokémon that had infuriated it so. Channeling a burst of psychic power, a blue outline took hold of Grookey, to the Grass-type's displeasure. With a shout, Hatenna forced Grookey's body against the ground with a disorienting slam. Tensing, Grookey returned to its feet, a little woozy and bruised but not out of the fight yet.

Hop came up with an idea. Maybe he wouldn't have to give up on close quarters quite yet. "Grookey, charge Hatenna, but keep to the left side of the clearing!" With a nod, Grookey galloped on all fours, doing as instructed and keeping along the wall. Bede wasn't having any of Hop's tricks. "Confusion, again!"

"Get behind the boulder!" Hop commanded. The Grass-type dove behind a large rock on its left, out of sight from its opponent. With no target visible, Hatenna's concentrated psychic energy found purchase not on her target, but a lifeless rock wall.

One of the first things Hop had taught Cassius was to use the environment to one's advantage. It would have been criminal if he had forgotten his own teachings. "Keep charging!"

"Using cheap parlor tricks in an actual battle. Shameless," Bede lambasted. "Disarming Voice, Hatenna! Let's see them dodge that."

Hop had no intention of dodging. Quite the opposite, actually. "Grookey, Branch Poke! Throw your stick at it!"

"Throw your what—" before Bede could process whatever insane command Hop had issued, or before Hatenna could force its opponent back with another shout, Grookey launched its trusty stick right at the Psychic-type. With dead-on accuracy, the impromptu projectile made painful contact and instead forced Hatenna back, her Disarming Voice fizzling out into nothing.

With their opponents reeling, and Grookey a few steps from physical contact, Hop went full offensive. "Razor Leaf, now!" There was no missing from that short a distance—and just to make sure, Grookey knocked Hatenna against the ground, pinned it down with a tight grip on its blue flaps, and mercilessly tore into it with point-blank Razor Leaves. The Hatenna cried out in pain from the assault, and even Hop couldn't help but feel a little bad.

Bede was not content to watch his Pokémon get annihilated. "Disarming Voice!" Just as Razor Leaf proved more potent up-close, so too did the sound-based attack, and the pink soundwaves that were forced out easily repelled Grookey away. Still, considerable damage had been dealt, and it was a tiny wonder that Hatenna was still conscious after such a beating.

"Your Hatenna's resilient, I'll give you that," Hop threw out as a compliment, even though Bede hardly deserved it. True to that sentiment, Bede did not reciprocate the gesture. "You can't win with your Pokémon's paltry strength, so you resort to utilizing a one-time ploy only afforded to you by the environment. You're an affront to legitimate trainers everywhere."

"What? Gonna cry to Rose about it?" Hop mocked, recalling Bede's earlier insult. "It's hardly my fault you aren't equipped to deal with a battling strategy that extends beyond attacking and dodging."

Angry veins were beginning to show on Bede's forehead. Good, Hop thought, as Bede began to launch into a tirade. "You listen to me, troglodyte. I do not win using cheap gimmicks or techniques born from cowardice. I win by bringing out my elite Pokémon's unparalleled strength and eradicating all who would stand in Chairman Rose's way. You are no different than a crude, untalented waste of—"

A cry from the aforementioned elite Pokémon prematurely silenced his rant. A suddenly limp body was flung against the wall, crumbling to the ground in a defeated heap. Bede and Hop looked toward the sudden commotion, coming across an unusual sight.

"What in Galar's name is a Sizzlipede doing in the mine?" Bede shrieked. Hop knew better, however, and settled for quiet surprise as two new figures entered the clearing.

"Well, if it ain't the chairman's twink," a familiar voice announced itself. "Was thinkin' I wouldn't get a shot at ya 'till Turffield, but here I find you in this dinky hole, havin' a dust-up with my mate. Saves me the trouble of havin' to go lookin', I suppose."

Gloria Victoria stepped up, as casual as a Sunday stroll, with an expression that looked anything but diplomatic. "Got room for one more in your little tiff?"