The sun was sinking in the west, dyeing the dirt road to Vermilion City in a dim golden hue.
Ash and the others walked along as the trees cast long shadows around them. Pikachu lay lazily on his shoulder.
"Partner… have you been putting on weight lately?" Ash adjusted his backpack and complained half-jokingly.
Honestly, if he hadn't already earned two badges and gotten some physical strengthening from the system, he'd really be struggling by now with Pikachu riding on his shoulder all the time.
After all, he was already carrying a full backpack. That was one load.
Add a Pikachu on top, and then hike cross-country for hours on end…
…All he could say was: people in this world really did have better baseline physiques.
"Pika? (・・?)"
Pikachu froze for a second.
"Pika? ⊙▽⊙!"
Then it poked at its own cheeks and belly with its paws.
"Pika… (´;︵;`)"
Pikachu fell into despair.
Pikachu…
Had already become a fat mouse…
"Pika pi." Pikachu looked over at Brock.
Ever since Brock had joined the group, the food quality had skyrocketed.
And Pikachu had started putting on weight.
Thinking back… the days before Brock, when it was just Ash and Pikachu—
What kind of life was that, really?
Brock's mind had been wandering. He'd just taken out his notebook, smiling faintly at the messy sketches of the water ballet formations.
"…Need to go on a diet?" he asked, noticing Pikachu and Ash looking at him.
Brock's awareness was still sharp.
Part of his attention was always on their surroundings.
Out of the three, he was the oldest.
As the big brother, of course he had to look after everyone.
"Pika pika ~_~" Pikachu looked terribly conflicted.
After all, eating like a king was really, really great.
Misty was walking a bit ahead, studying the map.
"At this pace, we should reach Bill's Lighthouse in about a week."
She folded the map away and glanced at the sky. "But we'll need to find a campsite for tonight… huh? What's that up ahead…"
Up the road—
A clearing in the woods had been neatly carved out, standing in stark contrast to the wild greenery around it.
The ground was packed with sand and dirt, marked off by a tidy border of wooden stakes. Training equipment stood in the corners, clearly well-used—this was no natural rest spot.
Most eye-catching of all was a tall wooden pole at the edge of the clearing. A flag fluttered at the top, painted with a bold "100" in dramatic strokes, next to a stylized Sandshrew with sharp, determined eyes.
Under that flag—
A boy about Ash's age stood with his back to them, carefully polishing a pair of fingerless gloves that had clearly seen a lot of battles.
He wore fitted, practical training clothes that gave him a lean, capable look.
When he heard footsteps, he paused and turned sharply.
His gaze swept over the three of them like a physical touch, lingering for a moment on Pikachu and the bulging Poké Ball holster at Ash's waist.
Then he lifted his chin slightly, the corner of his mouth tipping up into a confident, assessing smirk.
"Travelers?"
His voice was clear, with a sharpness he didn't bother hiding.
"I'm training here."
His eyes locked onto Ash's, the way a fighter sized up an opponent. The look alone made the Pikachu on Ash's shoulder twitch its ears.
Eye contact.
That was the signal.
A battle!
Pikachu felt it. It really was time to stretch its legs.
—Let's fight this guy, partner!
—Come on, let's go!
Pikachu jabbed Ash's shoulder with a little paw.
Pikachu, requesting to enter the field!
"I'm Beast Tamer Ming," the boy added, pride tinting his words.
"Judging by the look of you, you're Trainers too?"
"Then you've come to the right place. I offer lodging here—
Of course, not for free."
Ming's fighting spirit flared.
Misty glanced around at the neatly arranged surroundings, then at Ming's "I'm the boss here" posture.
"You offer lodging? This your home?" Her orange ponytail swayed as she tilted her head.
The training gear was simple, but it was obvious he took this seriously.
Whether he had potential was hard to say, but at the very least, he had drive.
"You could say that." Ming slapped the sturdy wooden fence beside him, the impact echoing dully.
"I built this temporary camp myself. It's also the arena where I take on challengers from all over."
"Just yesterday afternoon, I achieved my hundredth win in a row."
His tone stayed calm, but the pride of hitting that goal was practically overflowing.
As his name spread, challengers had become fewer and fewer. The gaps between battles had stretched longer and longer.
Ming pointed at the fluttering "100" flag as if it were the purest proof of his strength.
Brock finally shook off the last of his Cerulean Gym daydreams and came back to the present.
He examined the setup and the self-assured boy in front of them. "A hundred straight wins?"
"That's quite a feat."
"Looks like you've put yourself through some serious training."
Compared to Ash's ridiculous level, this Ming was what Brock would call a "normal" rookie Trainer.
"Training is the only way to get stronger." Ming crossed his arms, his gaze sliding back to Ash, the challenge in his eyes sharpening.
"Judging from your route, you're heading to Vermilion to challenge Lt. Surge?"
"Heh. That place isn't some kiddie playground."
"But before that…"
His tone shifted, a spark of excitement lighting his expression.
"You look worn out. If you want to stay at my camp, that's fine."
"The rules are simple—"
He stuck up his thumb and jabbed it toward the sandy ring he called his arena.
"Battle me in a Pokémon match."
"If you win, you can use my food, hot water, and safe campsite as much as you want. If you lose…" He shrugged. "You'll just have to find somewhere else to sleep."
"Well? Do you dare?"
"If you're planning to challenge Vermilion Gym—"
"Then let me, Vermilion's rookie trainer and Beast Tamer Ming, weigh you first~"
In the growing dusk, Ming's eyes sparkled.
It was the look of someone who'd found a new target, combined with the absolute confidence of a guy sitting on a hundred-match win streak.
In this world, a lot of rookie Trainers were like that: once your eyes met, a battle was practically implied.
Or you could say low-intensity Pokémon battles were one of the most popular and beloved sports in this world.
Aside from professional Trainers aiming for the Champion's throne, there were also casual Trainers who treated battles as entertainment.
And then there were Coordinators, who focused on beauty and performance.
The air itself seemed to crackle with invisible sparks.
Ash grinned.
He raised a hand to press the brim of his cap down, eyes under the brim meeting Ming's without flinching.
"Interesting." There was a hungry edge in his voice. "I like it."
"Before I challenge Vermilion Gym—"
"Before I sit down to the real feast—"
"Let's have a little appetizer first~"
There was no way Ash would be scared of some self-proclaimed Beast Tamer.
Who did this guy think he was?
You're the challenger here.
"Pikachu, this one's yours."
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