The World Strongest Pokemon Hunter

With every word Ronnie uttered, Hoss's demeanor grew more and more miserable. The once confident man was now like a lamb, kneeling and begging for mercy.

Before he could voice his pleas, a deep, commanding voice echoed in the room: "This is so boring. You don't even have the ability to resist. Gardevoir, use Telepathy!"

A dark premonition surged in Hoss's heart, a natural, involuntary reaction to the impending threat of death. But under the crushing weight of Ronnie's power, he could barely move, trapped and helpless as the cold embrace of death neared.

His vision blurred, and Hoss's consciousness began to fade into the darkness...

A moment later, Gardevoir released the pressure, but by then, Hoss had already collapsed to the floor. The mental energy he had once been so proud of now lay in ruins, so weak and insignificant that it couldn't even defend him from the smallest attack.

In the end, he died in a way he never expected—his mind severed from his body by the impact of Telekinesis, leaving him brain-dead, his breath snuffed out in an instant.

As Hoss's mind dissipated, his body began to disintegrate, much like a fruit-eating Bucky the Clown action figure torn apart. Hoss had thought that his Initiation would grant him power, but the truth was far worse. It wasn't just his skin that was broken—it was his entire body.

The fragile balance between his awakened mind energy and his physical form shattered. The meager amount of Nen energy he had left once held his body together like glue. But once his mind was gone, his body couldn't hold itself up any longer.

The irony was almost laughable: Hoss had spent so much time threatening Ronnie, promising to crush him, but in the end, it was Hoss who had been crushed, his body scattered in pieces.

Meanwhile, Gardevoir's experience bar flickered slightly, marking the end of a D-class Nen user's life. The gain was pitiful—barely a drop in the ocean compared to the massive progress bar ahead of her.

"This is pathetic," Ronnie thought, glancing at Gardevoir. The kill had been easy, but the experience gain was far from satisfying.

"Now… it's your turn."

Ronnie turned his attention to Pies, who stood trembling nearby.

At that moment, Pies was utterly terrified, his body shaking violently, much like chaff in the wind. He dared not even glance at the carnage left by Hoss's demise.

Pies knew this was the most terrifying scene he had ever witnessed. Not even the instant deaths of several of his guards during the past few days could compare to the gruesome sight before him. As a gang boss, he had seen many deaths, but never one like this—not one where a person had been reduced to pieces in an instant.

Pies couldn't stop himself from thinking that Ronnie was responsible for Hoss's gruesome end. The image of Ronnie now haunted him, leaving an impression of a maniac who could dismantle bodies at will.

"Thump!" Ronnie's foot slammed into the floor twice, an unmistakable signal for Pies to lift his head.

"Ahhh! Don't kill me..." Pies whimpered, lifting his head with obvious fear. His eyes were wide with panic, reflecting his terror.

In Pies's mind, Ronnie had become a black hole, a force that was slowly pulling him into the depths of despair. It was as if Ronnie was the embodiment of death itself, inexorably drawing him into a bottomless abyss.

"Please… please, sir, have mercy…" Pies's voice trembled, his desperation clear.

He knew that Ronnie would likely never show him mercy, but he still clung to the faintest hope of survival. He didn't want to end up like Hoss—reduced to a pile of mangled flesh.

"Where is my proof of identity?" Ronnie's voice was cold and sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.

Pies's pupils dilated in panic, and his body shook involuntarily. He had no idea what had just been asked of him. In the past few days, he had been consumed with hiring skilled individuals to help him reclaim his position. He hadn't even thought about his identification.

"I… I… I don't have it…" Pies stammered, his words coming out in a panicked rush.

Ronnie wasn't surprised by this. If Pies had actually managed to present his identity certificate, he would have been genuinely shocked.

"I'm giving you one hour," Ronnie said, crossing his arms over his chest, his voice slow and deliberate. "If I don't have it in that time, then 'he' will become your fate."

The word "he" hung ominously in the air, and both men understood exactly who Ronnie was referring to.

The last arrogant soul had already been shattered into pieces, and now it seemed Pies might soon follow.

---

An hour later, Ronnie stood holding a newly forged identification card, complete with a name, gender, and birth address. The address, of course, was conveniently listed as this very town.

With a mock smile playing on his lips, Ronnie looked at Pies, who was still on his knees, quaking in fear.

"See? That wasn't so difficult, was it? Efficiency is a powerful thing," Ronnie remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Sir, what do you mean…?" Even though he was physically and mentally broken, Pies was still forced to kneel and apologize with a hollow smile.

"Sir, do you think you… can spare my life? You just want all my belongings, don't you?"

Pies's thoughts were a blur. His only focus was on survival. He didn't care about the humiliation he had faced, or the financial losses. What mattered now was his life.

"Forgive you?" Ronnie said, slipping the identification card into his pocket. "Fine."

Pies's eyes widened with confusion and relief. Was Ronnie really going to spare him?

But that relief lasted only a moment.

As Ronnie stepped toward the door, Pies couldn't help but stare in disbelief. It was as though a giant weight had been lifted from his chest, and he could hardly comprehend the turn of events.

However, just as quickly as his joy appeared, it was extinguished.

The moment Ronnie crossed the threshold, Pies's bloated body collapsed to the ground. The smile he had worn was frozen on his face, and for a moment, it almost looked like he had simply fallen asleep. But the blood that dripped from his body told a different story.

"I forgive you, but I didn't say I won't kill you," Ronnie's voice echoed, though it was barely audible in the silence. "Next time, be more discerning. Not everyone can be provoked without consequences."

Under the darkened sky, with the moon hidden behind thick clouds, Ronnie walked slowly into the night. His figure gradually blended into the shadows, leaving behind only a sigh.

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