Pokemon: Behold the Father of All Pokemons

Ethan decided not to give Boss Sun a definitive answer about licensing. For now, he simply smiled and replied, "I don't have any similar plans for the time being."

The next morning, Ethan had just finished interviewing two potential lab staff members when a commotion erupted from the front office.

"Timmy," he called, glancing at the Pikachu, who was lazily batting at a small Poké Ball toy on the table. "Stay here. Let me check it out."

Ethan stepped out of the room, his eyes narrowing at the unmistakable voice echoing down the hallway.

"Not this idiot again," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

It could only be Secretary Sloan of the Panex Group, the same Moron Ethan had unceremoniously dismissed three days prior. Apparently, Sloan had taken the rejection personally and returned, just as obnoxious as before.

Last time, Sloan had barged into Ethan's office uninvited, causing a scene and earning Ethan's ire. This time, the reception staff had blocked his entry, but Sloan's disrespecting attitude was already causing a stir in the lobby.

"Do you know who I am?" Sloan barked, puffing out his chest like a territorial Fearow. "I'm the secretary to the chairman of the Panex Group! Do you have any idea the kind of power I wield? Step aside before I make you regret it!"

He wasn't alone. At his side stood a sleek and menacing animal, it was a Seaweed Dog. Its long, seaweed-like fur shimmered as it soaked up sunlight, visibly fueling its energy. Known for its combat prowess, the Seaweed Dog radiated an aura of quiet menace, its sharp teeth glinting as it growled.

Ethan sighed deeply, wishing Sloan would vanish into thin air. He glanced back at Timmy, who perked up curiously but stayed put on the table.

"Timmy, hide for now," Ethan whispered, gently patting the Pichu's head. "I'll call you if I need backup."

Timmy tilted its head in confusion but obeyed, scampering behind a desk. Only the tips of its ears peeked out as it watched the scene unfold.

Ethan straightened his posture and strode into the lobby, his expression calm but commanding.

"Secretary Sloan," he said, his voice firm, "why are you causing a commotion in my company?"

Sloan turned, his smug grin spreading wide like the grinch. "Ah, Mr. Grave. Just the man I wanted to see. Have you reconsidered my offer? Chairman Sullivan's patience is wearing thin. A ten-billion-dollar acquisition offer is more than generous for someone like you."

Gasps rippled through the nearby employees.

"Ten billion dollars?!" one whispered. "That's enough to retire ten times over!" another murmured.

Ethan, however, remained unimpressed. Crossing his arms, he smirked. "That contract you left last time? I tossed it in the trash. Maybe you can still find it at the garbage station."

Hearing this, Sloan's face twisted in anger. "You what—"

"What's the matter? Didn't you understand me the first time?" Ethan cut him off sharply. "Tell your boss this: if he offers a hundred billion dollars, I might consider it. But ten billion? That's pocket change."

The lobby fell silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Sloan's face turned beet red as rage boiled beneath his polished exterior.

"Do you have any idea who you're talking to?!" Sloan bellowed. "You think you're untouchable, don't you?"

"And you think you're more than a lackey for Sullivan?" Ethan shot back, his voice razor-sharp. "Face it, Sloan. You're just his errand boy. So stop barking like the dog you are in my office."

Sloan's Seaweed Dog let out a guttural growl, its eyes flashing with hostility. It lunged forward, sharp teeth gleaming as it aimed for Ethan.

Ethan didn't flinch. "Timmy, use Thunderbolt!"

In a flash of yellow, Timmy darted out from its hiding spot. Sparks crackled from its cheeks, and with a fierce cry, the Pichu unleashed a bolt of electricity.

The lightning struck the Seaweed Dog squarely, sending it sprawling to the floor with a yelp. Its fur sizzled, and the acrid smell of burnt seaweed filled the air. The creature whimpered, twitching weakly on the ground.

Sloan's smugness evaporated in an instant. "My dog!" he cried, rushing to the Seaweed Dog's side.

Ethan remained unfazed, crossing his arms as he surveyed the pitiful scene. "Oh dear," he said, feigning concern. "Why did your pet attack me unprovoked? Good thing Timmy was here to protect me. Your negligence could have caused serious harm."

"You..." Sloan stammered, his glare filled with venom.

Ethan's voice dropped to a mockingly casual tone. "Better get your pet to a Health Center. With any luck, it might recover. And while you're at it, let Chairman Sullivan know I'm not interested in selling. Now, kindly leave my building."

Snickers broke out among the employees, who had been holding their breath until now. Sloan, red-faced and seething with rage, gathered his injured Seaweed Dog and stormed out of the office cursing like he was one of the side character villains in a Chinese novel.

...

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