Taking that shortcut was a mistake.
"Weezing, smoke 'em out!"
Dark smog gushes from the bulbous Pokemon, enveloping the alleyway in a thick haze.
You back up against a wall to get your bearings—you can't see the foes' Pokemon, and can barely see your own Eevee, which is looking around nervously.
"Arbok, glare!" you hear.
The silhouette of the serpentine Pokemon rises from the fog, staring down your Eevee with glowing yellow eyes, the hypnotic patterns of its hood transfixing the Eevee in terror.
A third voice cackles "Drain it dry, Golbat!"
An indigo form rushes toward your Eevee from the smoke. You try to warn the Eevee, but it's rooted in place, paralyzed with fear.
The Golbat clamps down on Eevee with its fangs, siphoning its vitality, your Eevee unable to retaliate.
Your Eevee is no match for one strong Pokemon, much less three. Sparing it any further pain, you return it to its Pokeball. "I concede," you say as Eevee returns to the ball in a flash of red light. "But three-on-one is against the rules!"
The three voices only laugh menacingly as the smog dissipates. You hear them return their own Pokemon to their balls.
Three figures step forward from the darkness, and close up, it's clear who they are.
The three, all women, are wearing a tight black uniform, emblazoned with a red R. A short skirt shows off their legs, clad in grey boots.
One of them, blonde-haired, coos "Are you lost, boy?"
"Where's your mama?" the brunette one mocks.
Stepping uncomfortably close, the redhead one demands "Pay up, boy. You lost."
Complaining about their disregard of the rules is probably useless, so you comply.
You extend forward your bag of Poke-Mart goods, saying "I have no money, but—"
The blonde one slaps the bag away. "We don't want this junk."
The brunette girl adds, "Yeah, we got tons of this stuff at the hideout."
"Well, I don't have anything else," you plead, "so just let me go home."
"I think you do have something," the redhead purrs, grabbing you by your shirt collar.