4:00 AM at the Team Rockets secret port.
Waves slapped against the rusted breakwater, making a dull Tackle sound.
Distant searchlights swept mechanically across the sea, cutting the broken reflections into irregular patches of light.
A few low-level Team Rockets members were busy moving supply crates; the sound of metal casings scraping against the ground was particularly jarring in the empty port.
Most of these people in black uniforms looked sleepy and moved mechanically, like a swarm of worker ants foraging in the night.
Ariel stood on a protruding concrete platform by the shore.
The wind was strong, making his black tactical trench coat flap loudly.
He didn't look back, but he could feel the nine figures standing behind him like cold iron stakes.
Those were his subordinates.
Numbers One through Nine, five men and four women, lined up in three columns with spacing as precise as if measured with a ruler.
They didn't communicate, and even their breathing was kept very low; in the noisy background of the port, this area was so quiet it made one's scalp tingle.
This silence wasn't peace, but the warm-up of some killing machine before activation.
Yuki stood at the front side of the line, holding a specialized waterproof tactical tablet.
Today she had changed into a sharp dark gray combat suit, her long hair tied in a high ponytail; her originally delicate temperament was replaced by a deliberately honed efficiency.
She was staring at the final few pieces of data on the screen, her fingers occasionally sliding across it, confirming the subsequent logistical supply points.
"Lord Ruth, all members are assembled, and supplies have been loaded into the cabin."
Yuki's voice cut through the wind, falling clearly behind Ariel's ear.
Ariel turned around.
His gaze swept across the faces of the nine team members.
Under the previous bloody screening and Malamar's hypnotic intervention, their brains held absolute obedience to Ariel.
To them, Ariel wasn't a superior, but a sort of divine oracle etched into their genes.
"Yuki."
Ariel spoke, his tone even colder than the late autumn sea breeze.
"Present."
"You suggested naming this team just now."
Ariel looked at these nine death soldiers, and the intricate factions within Team Rockets came to mind.
Archer had his elites, Ariana had her informants, and he also needed his own sharp blade.
"Please bestow a name, my Lord."
Yuki lowered her head, her back straight as a rod.
"Team Evil."
When Ariel uttered these two words, there was no ripple of emotion.
Yuki was slightly stunned, then lowered her head even further.
This name didn't sound pleasant; it even seemed a bit too blunt for a villainous organization like Team Rockets.
But she understood Ariel's meaning.
This team didn't need a flashy alias, and the "Evil" in the name didn't mean they had to use Dark-type Pokémon.
The purpose of their existence was to carry out Ariel's will and execute the filthiest, most tyrannical, and most ruthless missions.
Evil wasn't the goal; it was the means.
"Team Evil... understood."
Yuki heavily typed these words into the highest authority field on her tablet.
From this moment on, this nine-person squad had an official code name in the Team Rockets archives.
Although currently only Ariel and the members of Team Evil knew the weight behind this name, Ariel believed that before long, this name would become a nightmare shared by both the League and Team Rockets.
"Report the objective."
Ariel walked toward a small black submarine docked at the shore.
The entire submarine was coated with a special anti-radar detection layer, looking like a crouching beast in the dark seawater.
This was sophisticated equipment he had requisitioned using his authority; for this field mission, he had almost exhausted all the advanced resources available at the base.
Yuki immediately swiped open an electronic map, where a red light pulsed on the nautical chart.
"Target sea area: Blue Sea Cliff."
She zoomed in on the map, showing the complex bathymetric lines of that sea area.
"This is located on the southeastern edge of the League's Hoenn waters, a blind spot for patrols. Due to the convergence of warm and cold currents, the seabed terrain is extremely complex, forming a large number of natural underwater caves. This environment is perfectly suited for the wild evolution and habitat of Gyarados."
Yuki paused and brought up a set of blurry infrared photos.
"According to data intercepted by the Intelligence Department half a month ago, a group of exceptionally fierce Gyarados has recently appeared at Blue Sea Cliff. These beasts are larger than average and extremely aggressive. The League originally planned to send elite Investigators to clear and recruit them next month, but the plan was postponed due to the preparations for the Ever Grande Conference."
Ariel looked at those ferocious dark shadows on the screen, calculating the value of these resources in his mind.
A Pokémon like Gyarados was a pure meat grinder on the battlefield.
He had truly witnessed it back at the Lake of Rage.
Their massive size and immense power meant that simply gathering Gyarados together would be enough to exert formidable strength.
Even Corona, when using reverse-type training methods to train Charizard and Blaziken, only dared to face Gyarados one by one.
If he could capture a batch of high-potential individuals, whether as a supplement to his combat power or as a bargaining chip to hand over to headquarters, it would allow his status in Team Rockets to jump up another level.
"What we need to do is swallow this meat before the League does."
There was a hint of ruthlessness in Yuki's voice.
Ariel walked to the submarine's gangplank and stopped. He turned back for one last look at his "Team Evil."
The nine members still stood expressionless, like nine stone statues.
"Listen up."
Ariel's voice wasn't loud, but it pierced accurately into everyone's ears.
"For this mission, I don't care about the process; I only want the results. For things like Gyarados, bring them back alive if you can; if not, I want to see their corpses and intact materials. My team doesn't need incompetent excuses, let alone self-indulgent sacrifices."
He walked up to Number One and reached out to pat the cold Team Rockets badge on the man's shoulder.
"Efficiency, obedience. This is your only reason for living. Remember, I've prepared the fuel for your departure, but I haven't prepared return tickets. If the mission fails, or if you show any weakness that disappoints me, then sink directly into the Blue Sea Cliff to feed the fish. Understand?"
"Understood!"
Nine voices erupted in unison, like a heavy hammer striking the ground of the port.
The ordinary Team Rockets members nearby who were moving cargo were so shaken by this aura that their hands trembled; several wooden crates fell to the ground, making a sharp cracking sound.
They looked over in terror, but when their gazes met the dead eyes of Numbers One through Nine, they all instinctively lowered their heads to avoid them, not even daring to breathe loudly.
That suffocating sense of professional bloodlust was on a completely different dimension compared to these low-level members who were just idling their days away.