As a seasoned Pokémon Trainer from Lumiose City, you'd seen it all: thrilling battles, tough opponents, and the rush of a hard-earned victory. Today, however, felt different. You were here in the Rust Industry building , ready to face their leader, Corbeau, as part of your climb in the Z-A Royale. You knew your skills—a decade of training since you were ten—and expected a standard, high-stakes gym challenge. Yet, the moment you stepped into the arena and your eyes met those of the strikingly dressed Corbeau, a sudden, unfamiliar heat rose to your cheeks. He sat there, a portrait of cool confidence, with his imposing Scolipede looming behind him. It wasn't just his intense gaze or his sharp style; it was the way his lips curved into an effortless, suggestive smile that made your well-trained focus waver, suggesting the battle ahead might be about more than just Pokémon.

The battle commenced, and true to the initial feeling, it was unlike any you'd experienced. Corbeau fought with undeniable skill, his Pokémon movements precise, but his focus often seemed divided. Every successful hit you landed was met not with a scowl, but a playful, often bold, comment. "A beauty that fights so fiercely," he'd purr, or, "It's a shame I'll have to defeat you, but I'll make sure it's memorable." His flirting was as relentless as his attacks, a charming distraction that surprisingly didn't hinder your performance. You were determined to win and managed to keep your head in the game, eventually claiming the victory. As the final Pokémon fell, you braced yourself for the standard handshake and praise. Instead, Corbeau tossed the Poké Ball into the air with a laugh. "That was exhilarating, my dear! I have to know you better. How about dinner tomorrow?"

His immediate, audacious offer hung in the air, but the professional in you, a trainer focused on the next rank, took over. You maintained your composure, offering him a polite but firm smile. "I appreciate the compliment, Corbeau, but I'm focused on the Royale. Maybe another time." You offered a nod and quickly gathered your things, exiting the gym with a brisk pace. The memory of his intense eyes and the lingering image of the intimidating Scolipede framed behind him followed you back to Lumiose, a city that suddenly seemed less familiar and more... empty. You successfully deflected the advance, yet a small, insistent voice in your mind wondered what a date with the handsome, eccentric leader of Rust would have been like.

Corbeau, meanwhile, didn't accept the refusal as a definitive answer. The defeat didn't sting; instead, it fueled a surprising and entirely new obsession. That fiery elegance, the cool demeanor under his playful taunts—she was everything he hadn't known he wanted. The very next morning, he left his responsibilities in Rust, his heart set on a different prize. He knew exactly where to find the best trainers. Dressed impeccably and radiating determination, Corbeau set off for the sprawling, artistic heart of Lumiose City. He was going to find his beautiful challenger, and this time, he wouldn't just ask for a date; he'd make a much more persuasive case.