Chapter 368: Kicking Down the Door

"Who are you people?!"

Seeing Ron and his group approach with a stormy presence, the two guards at the gate immediately stepped forward to block their path.

More guards began to gather at the scene, clearly ready to swarm in should Ron make a move—this was shaping up to be a full-blown confrontation.

"League Internal Affairs. Get George Thune out here."

Ron held up his Pokédex and credentials, speaking coolly, as though he hadn't noticed the increasing number of guards closing in on them.

"You dare speak the family head's name so casually?!"

"Arcanine, Flare Blitz!"

"Scizor, X-Scissor!"

The moment Ron uttered George Thune's name, the two guards snapped like provoked Growlithe, shouting orders to their Pokémon to attack.

Watching the scene unfold, Ron couldn't help but marvel at how frightening these so-called Great Families were—warping minds to such a degree.

Unfortunately for them, two High Elite trainers weren't enough to even scratch him.

"Assaulting a League officer without cause—punishable by death."

Ron's voice cut through the air like ice. He released his Machamp from its Poké Ball.

In an instant, the charging Pokémon were down, their momentum snuffed out like candles. Four lifeless bodies fell to the ground in their place.

"Intruder attack! Everyone—attack!"

Someone roared, and the surrounding guards sprang into action, sending out their Pokémon in unison to surround and overwhelm Ron's group.

But against Ron's team, High Elites were nothing more than cannon fodder.

"Bellossom, protect them."

"Machamp. Persian. Free kill order."

At Ron's command, Machamp and Persian surged forward, bloodlust in their eyes.

These two weren't using flashy, devastating moves. Instead, they moved with surgical speed, dismantling both Pokémon and trainers before the others could even react—competing with one another in efficiency.

Within moments, the area was drenched in blood, the air thick with a metallic stench.

The blaring of an alarm summoned reinforcements—this time, some were Elite Four-class trainers.

"League Internal Affairs. Any attack on us will be deemed an act of treason against the League!"

If it had only been one or two Elite Four trainers, Ron wouldn't have minded making the Thune family bleed a little more.

But the number they were facing now put Beno and the others at risk. That's why Ron raised his voice—to remind everyone of who he was.

His words froze the incoming trainers in their tracks.

Unlike the brainwashed High Elites raised by the Thune family, these guest trainers—more mercenary than loyalists—knew exactly what kind of authority the Internal Affairs team held.

After all, just days ago, the papers had been filled with reports about this very task force—especially about their leader, Ron—who had already earned a solid reputation in the Kanto region.

And now he had Mid Elite Four-level strength. Even if they attacked, there was no guarantee they could take him down quickly.

They had the numbers, sure—but with his battle record and meteoric rise, if he escaped, the Four Elites themselves might take a personal interest in retaliation.

Uncertainty set in. Where just moments ago the trainers had been advancing, now they hesitated, paralyzed. The only things moving were the pools of blood spreading across the ground and the acrid stench in the air.

"Ron?! Are you insane?!"

At that moment, George Thune finally emerged from the villa.

It was their first time meeting in person, but he'd long memorized Ron's face.

"Mr. Thune. According to our investigation, some of the trainers you've recruited are responsible for attacking League members in Kanto. We ask that you hand them over for questioning."

Ron completely ignored George's angry outburst, delivering his message with calm detachment.

"Ron! Do you really think I won't kill you?!"

George's fury burned hotter by the second as he glared daggers at Ron.

More and more people were pouring out of the estate, surrounding Ron and his team. At a single command, they'd be torn apart.

The tension was suffocating. Even though Beno and the others had steeled themselves for this, they couldn't stop the sweat trickling down their faces and palms.

Only Ron remained utterly unfazed, a faint smile still playing on his lips.

"Mr. Thune," he said pleasantly. "Are you sure you want to do this? Don't forget—my task force has only been active for less than two weeks."

His words struck like a splash of cold water.

George felt a chill pierce through his rage, bringing his scattered reason back in an instant.

Ron was right—the task force had only just formed and had already dismantled three poaching syndicates, each protected by an Elite Four trainer. They were still the talk of the region.

If word got out that the Thune family had wiped them out, who knew what storm would descend?

The Five Great Families talked a big game about unity—but they were far from cohesive. If they were, people like Ron wouldn't have had the chance to rise.

If the Thune family crossed a line, the other four would be quick to distance themselves, maybe take in a few stragglers for appearances—but the Thunes themselves? They might not even survive.

That thought alone drained the fury from Thune's face. Now he just looked like he'd swallowed a mouthful of poison.

Ron couldn't read Thune's mind, but he knew exactly what kind of man he was dealing with.

George Thune wasn't as calculating as Klaus Nyland, nor as ruthless as Mathias Agdestein. He lacked Preus Ellestad's analytical cool and Viktor Paulsen's caution.

Greedy. Cowardly. Impulsive. Shortsighted. Reckless.

Among the Five Great Families, he was by far the weakest link.

That was exactly why Ron had targeted him first.

As long as he pushed just hard enough, Thune wouldn't bite—at most, he'd bark a few times.

"Well said, Mr. Thune. Unless... are you unhappy with the League's formation of this task force?"

A booming voice rang out. Ron didn't even need to turn to recognize it.

"Bruno of the Elite Four. My, my, what a lively day for the Thune estate—so many honored guests dropping by unannounced!"

George's voice dripped with sarcasm, the word honored sharpened like a blade.

"No need to be so formal, Mr. Thune. Hand them over to us, and we'll be on our way. No need for you to go to any more trouble."

Bruno grinned as if he hadn't heard the hostility at all—cheerful, warm, and utterly unmoved.

Ron suppressed a grin, barely containing his amusement—he was dying to see how George would handle what came next.

This time, Bruno and the other three members of the Elite Four weren't holding anything back!

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