The recruitment order issued by Ariel under the name 'Ruth' caused a tremor among the grassroots of Team Rockets.
How resonant was the name 'Ruth' among the lower ranks of Team Rockets?
Hundreds of low-level members and core elements, bringing their respective Pokémon, flocked to the selection grounds deep within the base.
It was a specially modified area constructed from rough alloy plates, devoid of redundant decorations, with only cold floodlights hanging above, illuminating every corner thoroughly.
The air was a mixture of sweat, the scent of Pokémon, and an indescribable hint of excitement and tension.
Ariel put on his mask and stepped onto the high platform in the center of the selection grounds.
Below, hundreds of pairs of eyes looked up at him in unison, some with curiosity, some with fanaticism, and some with a trace of subtle wariness.
The strength of these people varied, but their eyes all burned with a desire for promotion.
"I don't need machines that only know how to follow orders."
Ariel's voice wasn't loud, yet it possessed a penetrating power that echoed clearly throughout the entire selection grounds.
His gaze swept across every face, as if he could pierce directly into their hearts.
"I need hounds who have already blocked all exits before I even issue the kill order. Following me, what you get isn't just resources, but the qualification to survive."
As his words fell, a commotion broke out among the crowd.
Some clenched their fists in excitement, some showed expressions of contemplation, and others had a hint of withdrawal flash in their eyes.
Ariel took in all these subtle reactions.
What he wanted wasn't blind obedience, but the wisdom to understand the meaning behind his commands and the ruthlessness to execute them.
The first round of selection was far from an ordinary Pokémon battle.
What Ariel wanted to examine was composure and state of mind.
In the center of the grounds, dozens of tall alloy partitions suddenly rose, separating the hundreds of members into individual enclosed spaces.
Inside each space was a display screen, with various pieces of information flashing rapidly across it:
A fragmented mission briefing, a blurry map, several seemingly insignificant numbers, and a countdown.
There was only one task:
Within the allotted time, find the key information hidden on the screen and make a judgment for the next move.
This wasn't an examination of Pokémon levels, but a test of their ability to capture the core amidst chaos, maintain calm under pressure, and make swift decisions.
Some people scratched their heads in front of the screen, restless and anxious;
Others quickly filtered out the interference and began to analyze methodically;
There were even those who didn't wait for the countdown to end, decisively discarding unnecessary clues and directly providing a bold hypothesis.
Standing on the high platform, Ariel observed everyone's performance through holographic projections.
He saw a thin young man who, facing the constantly changing numbers on the screen, didn't try to calculate them but instead directly locked onto an abnormal fluctuation and found the corresponding keyword in the briefing.
His judgment was fast and precise.
Ariel's gaze lingered on this young man for a few extra seconds.
On the other side, a wooden-faced woman showed no panic when faced with a seemingly unsolvable puzzle.
She just stared quietly at the screen until the final seconds of the countdown, then typed a line of text on the screen.
Her answer wasn't the fastest, but it was the closest to the perfect solution Ariel had envisioned.
She possessed startling insight and patience, able to find fatal flaws within the seemingly mundane.
The first round of screening eliminated nearly half the people. Those who couldn't stay calm under pressure or whose thinking was too rigid were ruthlessly purged.
The second round was a more direct test.
The partitions were retracted, and the selection grounds turned into a massive simulated ruin.
Shattered rebar, overturned concrete blocks, and dust permeating the air created a realistic battlefield atmosphere.
Ariel's voice rang out again:
"Your task is to reach the flag in the center of the ruins and bring it back.
During the process, enemies will appear, and they will not show mercy."
He didn't specify what the "enemies" were, nor did he restrict the methods used.
This tested combat instinct, adaptability, and most importantly—the will to survive.
With a low-pitched alarm, dozens of simulated Pokémon specially made by the base's Research and Development Department were released.
Although these simulated Pokémon had no life, they possessed attack patterns and defensive capabilities no different from real Pokémon, and their numbers were vast, far exceeding what an average Trainer could handle.
Chaos erupted instantly.
Some chose to meet force with force, directly releasing their Pokémon for a frontal breakthrough, but were soon submerged by the simulated Pokémon's siege.
Some tried to hide, only to find that every corner of the ruins seemed to be patrolled by simulated Pokémon.
What Ariel was looking for were those who didn't play by the rules.
A burly man didn't release his Pokémon immediately; instead, he quickly judged the simulated Pokémon's patrol routes and used the ruins' cover to weave through at startling speed.
Only when he neared the flag did he suddenly release his Machoke, using a Thunder Punch to blast away the simulated Pokémon blocking his path, then grabbed the flag and returned the way he came.
His actions had no waste, as efficient as a predator.
On the surveillance screen, Ariel saw beads of sweat on his forehead, but his eyes burned with a calm light.
Another agile member demonstrated a completely different style.
He wasn't in a hurry for success; instead, he used his Pokémon—a Crobat—to conduct aerial reconnaissance.
He skillfully guided the simulated Pokémon into dead ends within the ruins, then used the terrain advantage to defeat many with few, taking them down one by one.
Every step he took was carefully considered, like a cold-blooded chess player.
Ariel's gaze specifically locked onto a young woman.
She didn't have a powerful Pokémon, only a rather ordinary Nidoran♀.
However, she didn't choose to fight; instead, she used the pipes and gaps within the ruins to slither silently like a snake.
When a simulated Pokémon approached, she would use Nidoran♀'s Poison Sting to precisely strike its joints or energy core, temporarily paralyzing it to buy herself time to escape.
She wasn't the fastest, nor the strongest, but her survival skills and utilization of the environment made Ariel's eyes light up.
What she displayed was a near-instinctive cunning and resilience.
On the selection grounds, the roars of Pokémon and the sound of metal clashing could be heard from time to time.
Ariel sat on the high platform, the look in his eyes behind the mask deep.
What he needed wasn't mere bravado, but Superior individuals who could coordinate and fulfill their respective roles.
He needed people who could maintain a clear head in any extreme environment and find the most effective solution.
When time ran out, fewer than a hundred people had successfully brought back a flag.
And among them, nearly half bore obvious scars—marks left by the simulated Pokémon, representing their failure to escape unscathed.
What Ariel needed was the qualification to survive, not just for oneself to live, but to keep the mission objective alive and to keep teammates alive.