Fourth day at the Gym. Clear skies.

Reiji woke up in the side bedroom. Out in the living room, Hanhan and the others were still dead asleep—after breathing in that Sleep Powder all night, they were going to be out for a while.

He left them alone and kept the rest of the team from bothering them too. If they were going to sleep, they could sleep until they woke up on their own.

He cooked breakfast for Poliwhirl and the others first. The ones still asleep would eat later—he’d set their portions aside.

After breakfast, he vacuumed the main bedroom from top to bottom, clearing out every last trace of Sleep Powder and Stun Spore. Then he stripped the bed and took the sheets outside. He didn’t trust them anymore after last night.

Once they were washed, he hung them on the swing under the citrus tree. The bedroom itself needed a few days of open windows too. He wasn’t going back in there to sleep until the air felt clean again.

With the cabin tidied up, it was time for work. He didn’t bring the two attackers’ Poké Balls with him—those stayed locked away in the bedroom drawer.

Before leaving, he checked in with Spinarak and asked it to wait until Hanhan and the others woke up, then give them the breakfast he’d saved. After that, he climbed onto Pelipper, said goodbye to the team, and headed for the Gym.

He landed right on time. Inside, Senta was training his Squirtle—and there was a Poliwag at his side too.

“Reiji, look,” Senta said, practically dragging the Poliwag over. “What do you think of this one?”

“Put it away. Let me see the full read,” Reiji said. He needed the Poké Ball in hand to check properly—his own Pokémon were easier.

“Here,” Senta said quickly, recalling Poliwag and offering the ball up. Then he stood there, rubbing the bridge of his nose, waiting for the verdict.

“It’s… fine,” Reiji said after a look. “Where did you catch it?”

Poliwag’s potential wasn’t what Reiji expected from Senta. For an ordinary Trainer, it would’ve been acceptable. For the Gym leader’s grandson, it was a weak pick.

“Grandpa’s fishing lake,” Senta said with a grin. “There are loads of Water-types there. I just grabbed the one I liked.”

“That explains it,” Reiji said, handing the ball back. For a second, he’d wondered if someone was trying to sabotage the kid. Turns out Senta had simply made a casual choice and called it a day.

Reiji started walking deeper into the Gym, then paused and glanced back. “Senta—how far do you want to go?”

Senta blinked. “Huh?”

“Do you want to stay here and inherit the Gym,” Reiji said, “or are you aiming for the Elite Four… maybe even Champion?”

“The Elite Four. Champion,” Senta blurted, like the answer should’ve been obvious. “Why would I stay stuck here as a Gym Leader?”

“Then you need to catch a different Poliwag,” Reiji said flatly. “That one won’t take you that far.”

Reiji’s own first partner had been a desperate decision—no options, no time, just survival. That was why he’d bonded so deeply with Poliwag in the first place, and why he’d stuck with it instead of walking away the moment he found something “better.”

Senta didn’t have that problem. He was the Gym’s little prince. If he wanted a stronger starting Pokémon, he could get one—he could probably get a pseudo-legendary if he asked the right person. Reiji had no doubt the old man with the fishing rod had the reach to make it happen.

“Why?” Senta asked, frowning at the Poké Ball like it had betrayed him. “I picked it carefully.”

“Think about what I just asked you,” Reiji said. “I’m not repeating it.”

If Senta couldn’t let go now, it would only get harder later. Reiji had stayed with his own starter because he’d made a promise and carried the responsibility. Senta didn’t have to chain himself to an early mistake just because he’d already named it.

Senta went quiet, staring down at the ball. “So… this one can’t really go all the way with me,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

He’d seen it before—three kinds of beginners.

The first were kids like him, who could receive League-issued starter Pokémon from a research lab.

The second were the ones who paid a fortune to buy a carefully raised starter from a breeder.

And the third were the ones who caught a random wild Pokémon by the roadside and called it their beginning.

“Put your Squirtle away. Let me see,” Reiji said. He was genuinely curious—League starters had a reputation for a reason.

Senta looked like he’d swallowed something heavy, but he recalled Squirtle and placed the ball in Reiji’s palm.

[Squirtle]

[Type: Water]

[Gender: Male]

[Potential: 57%]

[Level: 9.28%]

[Ability: Torrent/3.15%][Hidden Ability: Rain Dish/3.17%]

[Moves: (Hydro Pump/2.22%) (Surf/2.31%) (Water Pulse/3.26%) (Rain Dance/3.82%) (Tackle/2.45%) (Tail Whip/3.94%) (Water Gun/8.91%) (Withdraw/6.21%) (Rapid Spin/1.99%)]

Reiji whistled under his breath. That was the difference. Strong Water affinity, solid potential, and a full three-stage line. If Senta raised it properly, the kid had a real road to the top.

“Your Squirtle’s excellent,” Reiji said, returning the ball. “Don’t waste it.”

Senta took it back carefully, like he finally understood what it meant to hold something rare. “I get it,” he said.

Then he stopped training entirely. Without another word, he recalled both Pokémon and headed for the back mountain to find his grandfather. If his sister’s team had been chosen for her, then he’d let the old man choose for him too.

Reiji watched him go, then sat down and rubbed his chin.

He’d been naive earlier, thinking League starters could be abandoned and just “picked up” by someone else. Outside of Ash, that sort of story didn’t happen. A starter with that kind of value could produce an Elite Four–level Trainer in the right hands. The League wouldn’t leave that to chance.

If a rookie threw their starter away, the League would reclaim it. Anything else would be absurd.

Still… if a Champion-track Squirtle really could be found for free, Reiji wouldn’t mind being the lucky one for once. He even had a Blastoise Mega Stone.

The problem was, even if he found one, he couldn’t parade it around without a clean explanation. Unless he caught it somewhere legitimate—like Blastoise Island.

The trouble with Blastoise Island was that it wasn’t on any map. Finding it would take time, and there was no guarantee he’d ever stumble across it.

Black market purchases crossed his mind for half a second, and he dismissed it just as fast. He could afford it, sure. He just didn’t like paying when the world occasionally handed out gifts.

He shook his head, forcing himself back to reality. One step at a time.

Once the Gym opened, challengers started coming in—only they weren’t here to challenge him. They were here about the tutoring jobs he’d posted at the Pokémon Center.

Reiji decided he’d keep three Trainers today: one to teach Poliwhirl, one for Kingler, and one for Scyther.

“If you’re here for a Gym battle, wait,” Reiji called out. “If you took a tutoring job, come forward and send your Pokémon out.”

Pop—pop—pop.

Poké Balls opened around the room. Reiji scanned the lineup: Poliwhirl, Poliwrath, Kingler, and Scyther.

Kingler were the most common, by far. Poliwhirl and Poliwrath came next. Scyther was the rarest—those weren’t the sort of Pokémon most beginners could simply walk up and catch.

Reiji opened his notebook and read out what he needed.

“Poliwhirl or Poliwrath Trainers—if your Pokémon knows Bulldoze, Earthquake, Focus Punch, Ice Beam, or Belly Drum, you can stay. One move is the minimum. Three is ideal.”

“Kingler Trainers—if your Kingler knows High Horsepower, Stomping Tantrum, X-Scissor, Ice Beam, or Rock Tomb, you can stay.”

“Scyther Trainers—if your Scyther knows Cross Poison, Razor Wind, Close Combat, or Baton Pass, you can stay.”

Nobody moved.

Reiji’s eyes narrowed. “All right. Trainers whose Pokémon know all five—step forward.”

Only two people stepped out.

Reiji pointed at them. “Which Pokémon of yours has five?”

“Acting Gym Leader,” the first man said quickly, “I’ve got a Poliwhirl and a Kingler. Both know Ice Beam. My Poliwhirl also knows Bulldoze and Belly Drum, and my Kingler knows Stomping Tantrum.”

The second man spoke next. “I’ve got a Scyther and a Kingler.”

Reiji understood immediately. They were trying to split the jobs across two Pokémon and take multiple payouts at once.

“That’s on me,” Reiji said. “I didn’t explain it clearly. I want one Trainer teaching one Pokémon.”

He had more than ten applicants standing here. He only needed three people right now. Once these three finished teaching the first batch of moves, he’d bring in the next group to cover what remained.

“So here’s the rule,” Reiji said. “Each of you teaches one of my Pokémon. Whoever can cover the most moves gets the slot. Everyone else goes home.”

The room erupted at once—everyone insisting their Pokémon knew the most.

Before it turned into a brawl, Reiji cut in hard. “Enough. Poliwhirl/Poliwrath Trainers, Kingler Trainers, Scyther Trainers—anyone whose Pokémon knows four moves, three moves, or all moves stays. Everyone else can leave.”

That filter cleared the noise fast. In the end, five people remained: two Poliwhirl-line Trainers, two Kingler Trainers, and one Scyther Trainer.

Reiji looked at the two Poliwhirl line Trainers first. “How many?”

“Three,” one admitted.

“Four,” the other said, smiling.

“The Poliwrath with four stays. The other—thank you, you can go,” Reiji said, then turned to the Scyther Trainer. There was only one, and that Scyther knew four moves, so there was nothing to decide.

Finally, he faced the two Kingler Trainers.

Both claimed four. One lacked Ice Beam. The other lacked High Horsepower.

Reiji sighed. “That makes it awkward. Settle it with a battle—Kingler versus Kingler. Winner teaches mine.”

They exchanged a look, then nodded. Fair was fair.

They took the field and sent their Kingler out. Spectators gathered automatically, Reiji included.

The two Kingler tested each other with Water Gun first, then traded Mud Shot at close range. Neither side gained a clear advantage.

Then one Kingler switched gears and fired Ice Beam, freezing its opponent in place.

The other shattered the ice and threw up Protect to block the follow-up Ice Beam, then launched forward like a battering ram. It slammed the first Kingler into the wall hard enough to rattle the room.

Before the other could recover, it raised its claws and hammered down again and again until the battle was over.

Reiji clapped, satisfied. The Kingler that knew High Horsepower was the better fit for his own Kingler anyway. Same temperament—both were built for swinging heavy and committing to it.

The loser withdrew in silence. The winner earned the slot.

Reiji faced the three selected Trainers. “From here, I don’t care how you teach. I don’t want the details. Just don’t harm the Pokémon, and teach the moves as quickly as you can.”

“Each move is paid separately,” he continued. “Fifty thousand per move. Every time my Pokémon learns one, I hand you a task voucher. You can teach from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. Finish fast, and we’re all happy.”

“Understood,” one of them said. “We’ll get it done as quickly as possible.”

All three were taking four tasks each, and none of them wanted to drag it out. Time was money, and they had other jobs they could be doing once this was finished.

“Good,” Reiji said. “Start now. Use the training room if you need space.”

They chose a corner of the battle hall instead, released their Pokémon, and began teaching right there.

With that handled, Reiji finally turned to the group of Trainers who’d come for an actual Gym challenge.

“Acting Gym Leader,” one of them complained, “are you done yet? We’re here for a Gym battle.”

They were weak, noisy, and convinced they weren’t weak at all. Reiji rubbed his forehead and decided to let someone else deal with them.

“Pelipper,” he called. “You’re up.”

Poliwhirl and the others had already done their share recently. Today, Pelipper could play.

“Pelli—pelli,” Pelipper chirped, sounding pleased. No Rain Dance for work today. It was going to enjoy itself.

Pelipper wasn’t like Scyther. It loved pushing beginners around. Back on the deserted island, it had bullied Poliwag for fun. Beating up rookies was practically its hobby.

While Pelipper handled the challengers, Reiji skipped his usual morning run. Instead, he watched the teaching sessions now and then—and spent most of the time mapping out Pelipper’s future.

[Pelipper]

[Type: Water+Flying]

[Gender: Female]

[Potential: 69.21%]

[Level: 42.12%]

[Ability: Drizzle/38.33%]

[Moves: (Gust/31.59%) (Roost/37.01%) (Wing Attack/40.58%) (Aqua Ring/36.23%) (Water Gun/40.49%) (Water Pulse/29.87%) (Rain Dance/40.17%) (Quick Attack/39.29%) (Agility/41.37%) (Tailwind/39.11%) (Protect/41.74%) (Air Slash/26.11%) (Air Cutter/28.74%)]

It had been more than a month since he last checked Pelipper’s proficiency panel. Its potential had crept up a little, and its level had reached Advanced tier. That meant it was eligible for the regional tournament.

Pelipper had been spamming Rain Dance for so long that its Drizzle proficiency had climbed steadily alongside it. At this point, Drizzle was battle-ready. Once Pelipper learned Hurricane and Hydro Pump, it would be picking off opponents in a single hit.

On the Flying side, it used Gust here and there—mostly for little things like blowing away fallen leaves. Roost kept it from wearing itself down after long flights, and Wing Attack was its favourite way to punish overconfident challengers.

On the Water side, it had Aqua Ring, Water Gun, and Water Pulse. Water Gun was the one it used most. Its aim was good enough to compete with Poliwhirl’s, as long as it could see what it was shooting.

Rain Dance had been trained consistently, so the proficiency made sense.

Even so, Agility had climbed even higher. Pelipper carried Reiji so often that it used Agility constantly just to keep its pace up. Tailwind came out sometimes too—and when it stacked both, the speed boost was obvious.

Quick Attack was another move it’d polished through flight drills with Scyther. Dodging through trees at speed had forced Pelipper to get sharp, and that training had fed directly into its evasiveness.

Protect was high as well, mostly because Pelipper used it to shield itself from its own rain. Light rain, steady rain, even downpours—it had learned to block it all out without thinking.

At some point, Pelipper had picked up two new Flying moves as well.

Air Cutter. It had a higher critical-hit ratio than most moves.

Air Slash. It had a thirty percent chance to make the target flinch.

Both were wind-blade attacks, just with different power and different secondary effects. Compared to those, Wing Attack had finally earned its retirement.

From here, Reiji could ease off Rain Dance training for a while. If Pelipper was going to handle real fights later, it needed a broader kit.

U-turn was essential for a support–main hybrid like Pelipper. It needed a clean way to pivot out without wasting a recall.

Hydro Pump and Hurricane were non-negotiable too—one Water finisher, one Flying finisher.

And then there were the three moves that made Pelipper truly nasty when it had time to set up: Stockpile, Spit Up, and Swallow.

Each time it used Stockpile, its Defense and Special Defense would rise by one stage. Spit Up’s power scaled with those stockpiles—one stack was 100 base power, two was 200, three was 300. Swallow restored health based on the same count: one stockpile healed a quarter, and with three stockpiles it could fully recover.

If Pelipper ever got the breathing room to stack up, that trio could turn it into a problem nobody wanted to deal with.

[End of chapter]

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep