Next, Skinny had Breloom fire at moving targets—its hit rate was around ninety percent, which shattered Chubbs’s worldview all over again.

Chubbs opened and closed his mouth, not sure how to start, and finally blurted, “it’s only been a few days—how did you get this strong?”

“I’ve just been training with Big Bro Reiji for a few days, basically nothing but Water Gun every day—all basic drills,” Skinny said, secretly delighted at Chubbs’s shock. Heh, that blew your mind already? The real trump card’s still to come.

He hadn’t even told Chubbs yet that Reiji planned to teach him a combination technique—that would be the true ace up his sleeve.

“What about Big Bro Reiji? Can his Pokémon do this too?” Chubbs glanced at Reiji, who was still jogging, curious where Skinny had found a teacher this capable. From the looks of it, this teacher could go toe-to-toe with the experts at those six big outdoor arenas by the Pokémon Center.

“Big Bro Reiji’s Poliwhirl is way stronger than mine. It can land triple Water Gun on three moving targets. Mine can only hit one moving target right now,” Skinny said, looking over at Reiji as well, wondering when his own Poliwhirl would master that trick.

Honestly, if he didn’t slack off, given his Poliwhirl’s talent, half a month of steady training would do it; after that it’d just be a matter of polish. There was also four-shot Water Gun on moving targets, and triple-shot while moving—skills you could train toward.

As for doing it blindfolded—forget it. Reiji’s Poliwhirl did a special training for that.

“Triple-shot, three moving targets…” Chubbs swallowed. So that’s how strong this teacher is. If Skinny hadn’t said it outright, he wouldn’t even have a frame of reference. Now he did. By pure accuracy, his own team’s aim was garbage, Skinny’s was barely acceptable—and still miles better. Triple-shot on three movers? He had no words.

“Have you battled him?” Chubbs sidled closer and whispered.

“Of course,” Skinny nodded. If he hadn’t been beaten black and blue, he wouldn’t be here.

“And… the result?” Chubbs asked in a hush.

“My Poliwhirl didn’t take a single move—it got dropped instantly,” Skinny sighed. It wasn’t some shameful secret; he knew he’d been weak, and he was grateful Reiji had knocked sense into him.

Compared with stumbling around playing house with Pokémon, his life now felt better than ever—he couldn’t even say exactly how. It was like he finally had a direction, and each day had more to look forward to.

“Pfft—no way, that strong?” Chubbs almost squealed before clamping a hand over his mouth.

“That strong,” Skinny said earnestly. He wasn’t lying.

“…Fine, I believe you.” What choice did Chubbs have? Skinny had been with Reiji only a few days and already surpassed him; it only made sense the teacher was stronger. If the guy were weak, why would Skinny bother learning from him? He could just train alone.

“All right, get your Pokémon out for treatment. After breakfast, train move accuracy with mine,” Skinny patted his shoulder and went back to his run. He didn’t know why Reiji insisted on morning roadwork—he just knew following along was right.

Chubbs watched him go, took a minute to recover from shock-induced “high blood pressure,” then released his two Pokémon.

He sprayed Krabby and Wooper with potion, fed them breakfast, and set them to practice Water Gun in the yard with Skinny’s team.

Then, with nothing else to do and seeing Skinny jogging laps, he huffed along behind him.

When morning training ended, Reiji showered, changed, and headed to the kitchen to make lunch. Skinny followed to help.

Chubbs? He was sprawled on the ground, clothes soaked, wheezing too hard to lift a finger. It was his first time doing morning runs—two hours of “slow” jogging—so just surviving was pretty good. Since Skinny hadn’t called it quits, Chubbs gritted his teeth and didn’t, either. He actually stuck it out—that was something.

An hour later lunch was ready. The Pokémon all had their own food; the three of them ate together. Chubbs finally managed to crawl to the table and whispered, “do you guys train like this every day?”

“Yup. Eat up—we’ve got the afternoon too,” Skinny said.

“What—there’s an afternoon block?” Chubbs deflated like a punctured ball, slumping over the table, half-dead. The morning had been torture; the thought of more in the afternoon made him want to give up living.

Seeing Chubbs’s pained face killing his appetite, Skinny couldn’t help laughing. “Relax—the afternoon is theory. Pokémon-care and training knowledge. Like school, but self-study here.”

He sneaked a look at Reiji, who was eating in silence. Reiji had no time to babysit them: if they wanted to learn, he’d teach; if not, he wouldn’t. If you asked, you got answers; if you didn’t, you didn’t.

“You should’ve said so earlier—scared me to death,” Chubbs sighed, thumping his chest. The thought of not running more revived him fast; his chopsticks started flying.

Watching the two goofs, Reiji also found it funny—especially Chubbs, who nearly killed himself in the morning run.

He’d almost told the kid to stop; if something went wrong and parents came knocking, he couldn’t explain that away. For Reiji, whether Skinny or Chubbs learned was up to them. He’d share—then let them free-range.

After lunch, they all napped. The villa was big and full of couches; three people and fifteen Pokémon could sleep without crowding.

When they woke, afternoon study resumed. Reiji cracked open Beginner’s Guide to Water-Types and read like it was a game guide. He was genuinely into the world’s Pokémon knowledge.

While he read, Chubbs and Skinny whispered.

“you’re really just going to read this afternoon?” He asked, seeing Skinny taking notes with rare seriousness.

“They’re books on training and abilities. Want one?” Skinny nodded, thinking Chubbs was overreacting. It was just reading.

“I’ll pass. I’m sick of it at school,” Chubbs waved the book away. They studied this stuff in class already; he didn’t want more.

“Pass? You don’t even know what Water Absorb does. How are you going to battle? Type matchups, abilities, move power, move effects, application—if you don’t know any of that, you’re just going to get pummeled…”

“…Fine, I’ll look.” Mortified, Chubbs couldn’t refuse anymore.

“Here.” Skinny handed him the encyclopedia of abilities.

Yes, Chubbs knew type advantages, but did he know the kinds of abilities, their traits and tells, the power of each move, the typings, categories, areas of effect, ways to boost accuracy, ways to amplify power, how ability–move interactions change outcomes, which moves could be combined into a Combination Technique…?

If you didn’t learn those, never mind battling—even raising Pokémon would be hard, and any battle would be a one-sided beatdown. And this was just beginner trainer knowledge. Doing well at raising meant learning beginner breeder knowledge too.

How had Big Bro Reiji learned so much by fifteen? Even covering three Pokémon felt like a mountain. Skinny’s head hurt.

Only now was he wrapping his brain around Poliwhirl’s Damp and Water Absorb, Breloom’s Poison Heal and Effect Spore, Wingull’s Keen Eye and Hydration—and he already felt overwhelmed.

Let alone memorizing the abilities of a hundred-plus species, their visual tells, then, mid-battle, inferring the opponent’s ability and adjusting attacks, guard, or evasion accordingly.

That was just step one. After that came move properties—power, typing, interactions—so you could forecast the opponent’s next move, recognize it as it started, and issue your own command in time.

All of that was in the old director’s Breloom-raising notes, which Skinny had shown Reiji.

Reiji had said only after you internalized this could you “read” the opponent—predict their next action. It was the hallmark of high-level battling; pros basically all did some degree of reading.

When Skinny asked if Reiji could do it, Reiji said reading was a tool for evenly matched fights—to add some win-rate, or upset stronger foes when the gap wasn’t huge. Against kids who didn’t train their Pokémon? No need.

He didn’t say whether he could read—because it would kill the mystique. Truthfully, he couldn’t—not the real-world version. He only knew the “game” version, and real reading needed live reps. He hadn’t battled enough yet; games weren’t reality.

So Skinny’s head throbbed. From Reiji he’d learned reading was essential for experts. He had to memorize the books to reach the threshold. Reiji knew so much because, in his past life, he was a gamer with a decade-plus of memorized data.

For Skinny, this was all just beginning.

What he didn’t know was that Chubbs—fresh off a scolding—settled down too. He dutifully read, focusing on Poliwhirl’s abilities, and even took notes. But after half an hour he drifted again, staring blankly at Krabby and Wooper’s drills.

After a bit he leaned over. “Have you seen the Spider Mugger lately…?”

“Spider Mugger?” Skinny thought, then shook his head. “Why?”

“Because of him I got grounded for a week. I wasn’t allowed out except for school,” Chubbs sighed. Looking back, he didn’t think that mugger was some great evil—he just took money. It was his parents who kept him locked in, and that had felt worse.

“That’s why you couldn’t go out?” Skinny had heard of the Spider Mugger; there were wanted posters at the Pokémon Center.

But a petty crook targeting newbies didn’t scare him anymore—not after cutting down a far nastier kidnapper in the woods two days ago.

Robbers who took a thousand or two, maybe ten at most… if one ran into Skinny now, they’d be the unlucky one.

He also knew the real value of Pokémon now. Even a common one fetched tens of thousands on the black market—more if it was Fighting-type. Whether someone bought was another matter, but the prices were real.

“Yeah…” Chubbs heaved a long sigh and poured out his grievances. “Don’t even start. That guy’s still out there, and there are lots of crooks at night. I have to be home after dark. No hanging around the Center, no watching battles…”

“Then get stronger so your Pokémon can protect you,” Skinny said simply.

“I know, but getting stronger isn’t easy,” Chubbs sighed again, changing the subject. “Oh—there’s a Fighting Tournament in a week. Want to go watch?”

“Fighting Tournament?” Skinny thought for a moment. “We’ll see if I’ve got time.”

It was just a Fighting-type event. His top priority now was learning from Reiji. He had a feeling Reiji wouldn’t stay long; he had to seize this chance.

[End of Chapter]

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep