A week after parting ways with Reiji, Shun reached Kinnow Island in the afternoon and spotted the old man waiting for him at the harbor.

“Grandpa.”

Shun walked up to the old man and threw his arms around him. Counting from the night they were hunted down, it had been ten days since he’d last seen his grandfather.

“Let Grandpa take a good look at you. Did my good grandson get hurt anywhere, did you starve yourself thin?”

The old man already knew Shun hadn’t been injured, but he’d heard that young man had taken an attack for Shun and been hurt pretty badly.

“Grandpa, I’m fine. I went to a lot of places with Reiji-nii these past few days and had a great time. Once I’m strong enough, I want to travel too…”

“Hahaha, as long as you’re not hurt, Grandpa’s eyes weren’t wrong.” The old man’s face was all smiles, genuinely pleased with his grandson’s growth. It looked like this trip hadn’t been wasted—Shun must have learned quite a lot from that young man.

As for Ren, and that woman from the massage parlor who had attacked them, he didn’t plan to meddle. His grandson had probably already decided how to handle them.

“Grandpa, I even saw Elite Four Lorelei on Mandarin Island. Lorelei is so strong.” Shun felt like his recent experiences had been one wild roller coaster—twists, drops, and thrills.

He really wanted to share that joy with someone, and that someone was his grandfather.

So he started from the attack on his life, then the cruise ship, then running into pirates and nearly getting killed by them. After that came the Bug-Catching Contest on Murcott Island, where he ran into a Heracross, met a bunch of trainers from other places, and had a lot of fun battling them.

Then there was the Pokémon Exchange Meeting, and after that they’d gone to Mandarin Island. He saw Lorelei of the Elite Four, listened to her lecture, and even got to battle once in front of a crowd of ten thousand…

It had only been a short stretch of time, but the experiences were packed. It was unforgettable. He realized that in just ten days he’d fallen in love with life on the road—especially traveling with Reiji.

But he was still too weak. Even Reiji could barely protect himself, let alone haul around a deadweight like Shun. He needed to get much stronger—strong enough to head out alone, stand before Reiji, and challenge him.

Poliwhirl, Breloom, Pelipper, Elekid, Heracross, Mankey—those were his six main battlers. He’d never forgotten the promise he made to Reiji before they parted: the regional tournament.

To enter a regional tournament, those six Pokémon at least needed to reach Advanced tier. And if he wanted to actually win the whole thing, he’d need to raise a few more as substitutes.

On top of that, Ditto and Mankey weren’t suited to being in the spotlight. For his public main team, he was still short three Pokémon. Six main battlers was the standard lineup for a tournament, and he’d need two substitutes on top of that to be able to complete a full six-on-six battle.

And that was still on the conservative side. Plenty of competitors went into regional tournaments with two full teams—twelve Pokémon.

With Grandpa backing him, he didn’t have to worry about resources for raising Pokémon. What he wasn’t sure about was whether he’d ever catch up to Reiji. Just thinking about the next time they’d meet made him excited.

As for the support Pokémon he had left: Staryu needed focused training on Confusion and psychic power. Farfetch’d and Slowpoke, he’d raise for a while, then send to the orphanage so they could play with the kids.

He’d already asked Reiji about those two—neither had great potential. They could be trained, but he wasn’t the one to do it. Better to hand them over to Nana and let her use them to protect the orphanage.

Even without these Pokémon, the old director’s Breloom wasn’t something an ordinary thug could take on. The problem was the old director hadn’t fought seriously in a long time.

“Regional tournament, huh…”

Grandpa listened to his grandson chatter as they walked, all the way to that last part about the regional tournament.

He thought of the regional tournaments in each League region. Those were pretty decent stages to aim for, and if his grandson wanted to go, he’d give him full support.

With that in mind, he pulled a Poké Ball from behind his back and placed it in Shun’s hand. “This was your glasses-uncle’s Pokémon, a child of his Persian…”

“A child of Persian? Meowth?”

Shun took the Poké Ball. Inside, a Meowth was lying there with its legs crossed, clearly looking down on Shun outside the ball.

“This Meowth’s personality is kind of nasty.” Shun’s mouth twitched. Just one look at this Meowth and he knew it was a troublemaker.

“Shun, this Meowth is special, just like your Poliwag and the old director’s Shroomish. You’d better raise it properly.”

The reason the old man had managed to get this Meowth in the first place was his fifty-year friendship with Old Four-Eyes.

“I got it.” Shun nodded and accepted the Meowth. After spending so long with Reiji-nii, he had plenty of ways to tame this Pokémon.

“Grandpa, if I want to enter a regional tournament, I still need three more Pokémon. I only have five that are actually fit to compete. I’m one short of a full team, and I still need two substitutes…”

“This Meowth doesn’t count?”

Grandpa knew roughly how many Pokémon his grandson had. By now there were at least ten. How could that still not be enough for a regional tournament?

“Grandpa, I don’t plan to use Mankey or Ditto openly. And Farfetch’d, Slowpoke, and Staryu aren’t main battlers for tournament matches.” Shun shook his head and explained. Reiji had already told him: his identity needed to stay hidden, or certain jobs would get complicated.

“So you’re planning to use this Meowth under a different identity?”

“Yeah.” Shun nodded. This Meowth’s talent was definitely not bad. The old friend who’d once scraped by with Grandpa had once pushed at the threshold of quasi–Elite Four level. Even if all those people were old now, their Pokémon had history.

“What kind of Pokémon do you still want, then? Got anything specific in mind?”

“I want a Dark-type.”

Shun remembered that late-night conversation with Reiji. To counter Psychic-types, he at least needed one Dark-type. Alternatively, he could raise a Psychic-type of his own to fight them.

“Dark-type, huh. Anything else?”

Grandpa thought it over. For Dark-types, Sneasel was a pretty solid choice and suited his grandson well.

If Shun wanted to walk the path of a Fighting-type Elite in the future, then his Pokémon roster needed arms and legs to work with. After all, most Fighting-type moves were thrown with hands and feet, and their move pools tended to overlap.

“Grandpa, if I want to go up against Psychic-types, then if there’s no Dark-type, Ghost, Bug, or Psychic is also fine. I already have a Bug-type…”

Shun released the Heracross he’d caught on Murcott Island. This one’s talent wasn’t bad—probably not worse than Poliwhirl’s or the others’.

“In that case, you don’t need another Bug-type. But Ghost-types are a no-go, too dangerous. Psychic and Dark-types, Grandpa can sort out for you. Anything else you want?”

“Grandpa… Poison-type or Steel-type would be great too.”

Shun’s thoughts went to Reiji’s Croagunk. That kind of Pokémon also counted as a Fighting-type, and he really wanted one.

“Heh, you think Grandpa can grant every wish you make?”

When the old man heard “Steel-type,” he flicked his grandson on the head, half-scolding and half-amused.

How could he not know what his grandson was thinking? If the Dark-type was Sneasel and the Poison-type was that newly appeared Croagunk, then the Psychic-type would be the recently discovered Ralts that could evolve into Gallade. And the Steel-type would be that big blue dog.

Those first two weren’t impossible. With his network and money, he could probably get Shun a decent Sneasel and Croagunk. But Ralts and that big blue dog…

It wasn’t that they couldn’t be obtained. It was that his grandson couldn’t hold on to them yet. Those two would paint a target on Shun’s back—and might even cost him his life.

“Shun, Grandpa can get you a Dark-type Sneasel and a Poison/Fighting-type Croagunk. But that Psychic/Fighting one, and the Steel-type big blue dog, you should stop thinking about them for now. You’re not ready to protect those Pokémon yet.”

“…All right.”

Shun sighed helplessly. He really liked that big blue dog, and he knew how expensive its eggs were. Given how weak he was right now, it was better to let it go.

“But Grandpa’s made a lot of contributions to the League over the years. Add in what a few of those other old fellows have done, and we can help you apply for one of the starter Pokémon. Do you have a particular one in mind?”

“Seriously?”

The surprise hit Shun so hard he went blank for a second.

“Of course. Back in the day, this old man shed blood for the League too.” Grandpa chuckled. In truth, he’d have to go around and talk to the others and basically buy their contribution points with cash.

Once he added their credit to his own, plus what Shun’s father had done, it’d be enough to apply for a starter.

“Grandpa, why didn’t you say so earlier?”

Shun snapped out of his daze and dove into his grandfather’s arms. He’d honestly thought he’d never have a starter Pokémon in his life.

“Haha, you never asked.”

Grandpa rubbed his hair and smiled. “I wanted to wait until you were a bit older. Now that I see you’ve grown, it’s time to put in the application for you…”

It’s not like no one ever tried to steal starters.

But who’s to say those people were stealing to resell? What if they were stealing to breed?

Otherwise, where do you think all those black-market starters come from? Caught in the wild? Bred in captivity? Who can really tell?

The risk of stealing a League starter was enormous. It was basically slapping the League across the face. Loudly.

A little underground group would never dare. Only an organization on the level of Team Rocket would have the guts to go after League starters.

That was why the old man had never dared apply for a starter as Shun’s first Pokémon. Losing a Pokémon was one thing. Losing his grandson… he’d never stop crying.

“Okay then, have you decided which starter you want? Once you settle on one, Grandpa will file the paperwork. At the earliest, it’ll arrive in about a week.”

He looked down at his grandson, genuinely curious about what he’d choose.

“Grandpa, I want that monkey…”

Shun had decided long ago. Ever since he’d seen that monkey whose head was on fire in the black market, he’d fallen in love with it. That Fire-type monkey was just too cool.

And being cool… that lasts a lifetime.

“Chimchar, huh? That’ll work.”

Grandpa mulled it over. Chimchar’s final evolution picked up Fighting as a secondary type, which fit perfectly into the future he’d planned out for Shun. All those Fighting-types he’d given Shun were meant to steer him toward loving Fighting-type Pokémon.

Judging from this, Shun really was stepping onto the path of a Fighting-type trainer. That put Grandpa at ease.

“Grandpa, I’m so happy.” Shun hugged him again, really feeling how good it was to have a grandfather like this.

“All right, Shun. You still can’t protect those other two Pokémon yet, but Grandpa promises you this—once you become a quasi–Elite Four trainer, I’ll get you one of them. Have you thought about which one you’ll pick?”

“For real?”

Shun stared at his grandfather in disbelief. He’d honestly resigned himself to never having that big blue dog. To suddenly find out there was still hope was almost too much. Of course he’d pick the big blue dog. Gallade could come later.

With quasi–Elite Four strength, if he still couldn’t get himself a Gallade, then his so-called “quasi–Elite Four” rank might as well be fake.

“Of course. When has Grandpa ever lied to you?”

Seeing his grandson that happy, the old man couldn’t help sharing in it. He was glad the kid trusted him enough to bare his heart. There was no way he’d break a promise like that.

He’d spent all those years as a gatekeeper, selling fake booze and piling up a small fortune. That was more than enough to buy a big blue dog worth over a hundred million Pokédollars.

And that “over a hundred million” was just the current price. Once the Day Care facilities started hatching them in batches, the price would drop. In time, an egg for one of those blue dogs probably wouldn’t even cost a hundred million. He was confident about that much.

For now, though, the priority was getting the League to process a starter, and then scouting out a Sneasel and a Croagunk for his grandson on the black market.

Judging from how anxious Shun looked, the kid clearly wanted to catch up to that young man as soon as possible. Not a bad target at all—though, realistically, Shun probably wouldn’t catch up in this lifetime.

A young man who could see through a Pokémon’s talent at a glance was bound to have nothing but top-tier partners. With a monster like that as his rival, what could Shun possibly use to close the gap…?

Tough, very tough…

Grandpa left the Sailors’ Bar, parted ways with Shun, and headed for the Pokémon Center to file the application for Chimchar.

Shun didn’t hear those quiet sighs. All he knew was that his grandson’s happiness mattered most. If the kid could one day become a Fighting-type Elite, that would be enough…

As for Champion…

If Shun ever did reach Champion, Grandpa would wake up laughing in the middle of the night.

This chapter counts as a bonus, tying off Shun’s business… next up is Lance’s investigation.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep