Dirk, perhaps, expects the sheer lack of surprise exhibited when Emporio doesn't really react to a greninja leaping over his head. In fact, he doesn't even try turning around or looking up to see what the hell just happened- simply stopping in place, and fidgeting idly with the ball in his hand. His hood is down. His hair, loose tie-back that it is, still relatively snarled and tangled from earlier events. There....are definitely two behind him, now.

And then....

"...You know... ...I don't think Team Rocket has grunts that are really this good," he hums, adjusting his cap with his free hand. "...Do they really want me to join this bad..?"