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There was nothing like the Arena in Kanto, probably because such a thing is so barbaric it is against all public safety laws. That's just what he loved about this idea, though, the fact that these creatures literally fight to the death. Honestly, the idea of any pokemon dying was sad to a person, unless you were of questionable morals. Like Team Rocket, for instance, who just concern it as the natural order. The weak must die for the strong to survive and get stronger, that was simply it. Anyone against such a logical standpoint was a blind fool and a damned idiot by his standards.

Standards that, ultimately, weren't against cheating or nefariously sneaky behavior. Today, he was going to make many trainers made with his debut in the underground. Just a week ago, he announced his presence with an open challenge to any trainer dumb enough to take it. For the price he put up in his bet, however, it was quite easy to just lead them in. This was all a matter of strategy, telling people with very powerful pokemon that he could simply beat them in a match with one of his more common, weaker creatures. The match up today was going to be exciting for him, at least, watching as people tried to shut his mouth on the incoming entrance.

So there he was, around the announcer's table, a place for the general news of the Arena and color commentary during matches. Let's just say he wasn't welcomed with open arms, especially for being such a loudmouth. "This is it, ladies and gentleman. A lowly ranked Team Rocket grunt against one of your elite competitors. This is going to be rather short, just a showcase of our ability and the forerunning event of our domination in the underground. Of course, if I happen to be wrong, there is a rather large bid you can take from me. How about we just meet our contestants, yes?" They'd allowed him the opening words and he took his chance to plan out each one, leading to a volley of boos. Not that he even cared, mind you.

First, came their regular trainer, a person of average height and less-than-average ability to dress themselves. Quite a droll bandit, but nevertheless effective at scaring your regular civilian. His pokemon of choice: a Machamp; Generally a fearsome foe in anyone's hands. Even Dante enjoyed the sight of one, a vision of pure physical power, attained from years of training. Sadly, it's going to be humiliated in this match, but that's just what you get for going against him. He needed to secure the underground and this was just a perfect stepping stone for him.

Second was his man, your average everyday Rocket grunt, complete with the stylish outfit. Maybe it wasn't as stylish to some, but the white gloved complimenting the grey suit emblazoned with a red R really did wonders for any body type. As he walked toward center stage, there was confidence in his stride, exactly what his boss wanted to see. The viewers, however, were less than confident in him as he drew out his pokemon, a common, garden-variety Rattata. Gasps could be heard all around the arena as many could not understand how he could boast such a weak pokemon. Even the other announcers were asking what his game was, as if he'd pipe up with an adequate response.

"Now, if I told you, that'd just ruin all the fun, now wouldn't it?" With that, the smirk on his face said it all. There was nothing for him to argue, seeing as he knew what was going to happen. Of course, everyone around him was talking statistics, like how a wild Rattata had barely enough offensive capabilities to stand tall against something as dominating as a Machamp. Or how the type advantages are against it, not that such a thing would matter. Sitting there made him feel so bland with all these nerds calculating just how he would make this feat possible. It wasn't always about strength, strategy was far more important as he was going to show them.

The match began as expected, the quicker, stronger Pokemon going first and using a very powerful fighting-type move, close combat. Rushing toward the mouse, he just punted it to a damn wall, causing many people in the crowd to go wild. They thought this was it, of course, but as the rubble cleared, they saw this Rattata standing just fine. In agonizing pain, yes, but it was perfectly conscious and able to compete. With the dust and debris scattering everywhere, no one had a close look as to what happened, but it hung on by the skin of it's teeth with it's focus sash. "My, what a fiercely loyal and stupid pokemon," said the Rocket Admin, while all other commentators were in disbelief of this event.

Dante was more than smug as the next move occurred, watching as the rat maneuvered itself at fast speeds toward the opponent, slamming its body into the other pokemon. Many expected nothing to happen, but with the same force used to punt that creature, it had been directed right back. Endeavor was a fun move to use and an instant equalizer in all matches, making the opponents health condition the same as yours. So, as you're on the brink of collapse, so are they. That, and watching a Machamp get sent to a wall by a Rattata was just so darn fun to watch. Of course, with everyone else questioning how this was even possible, he just shot back with a comment, "My, that had to hurt."

Now, the superpower pokemon wasn't finished yet, but he was definitely about to be. Getting to his feet with all those broken stoned around him, he was probably a bit dazed by what just happened, not unlike all the people watching. Before it could even react, the Rattata was already running right toward it, slamming it's head against the chest of this muscular behemoth. Increased priority moves were fantastic for getting a shot off before your opponent could even blink. Even better when they can knock your foe right out once they've been damaged enough. "It's all over now. No matter what, Team Rocket will always be stronger. Goodnight, folks, I have all those bets to collect.""

Sure, his last statement was cocky as hell, but that Machamp was down for the count. Of course, that isn't to say that things could turn the other way once it managed to wake up. This was a fight to the death after all, so it was time to end him with the finishing blow. The purple rat just walked right up towards its neck, the general area where the jugular is, and pierced it with its large front teeth. It bit down as hard as it could, causing blood to just spurt out wherever it could. Bleeding to death may've not been a gruesome death, but it did leave behind a message with it. That's all he needed-- the message.