Bayleef had finally evolved.
As the group bid farewell to Mariah, their pace through the forest was uncharacteristically slow. Ever since Ash's near-collapse during the storm, Misty had transformed into a relentless warden. No running, no jumping, no skipping meals, and most importantly—absolutely no usage of his Aura.
"Hm?"
The peaceful silence of the forest was broken when Ash's brow furrowed. He felt a sharp, metallic ripple in the air. Ignoring Misty's inevitable lecture, he pointed toward a dense thicket and barked an order.
"Pikachu, Quick Attack into Iron Tail!"
In a flash of golden light, Pikachu vanished from Ash's shoulder.
"Hey! Ash! I told you no more using your Aura!" Misty cried, her hands gripping his arm in a mix of frustration and worry.
Ash offered a small, reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Misty. My senses are getting sharper with practice. Detecting something this close is as natural as breathing now. It doesn't drain me."
In the undergrowth, Pikachu moved like a bolt of lightning.
"Wow," Brock noted, shielding his eyes. "Pikachu's speed has reached a whole new level."
"Of course it has," Ash said, his eyes fixed on the treeline. "He's my partner."
CLANG!
The sharp sound of metal striking metal echoed from the deep woods, followed by the rustling of startled Pidgey taking flight.
"Pikachu, Thunderbolt!"
Even though the opponent was hidden behind layers of foliage, Ash's command was perfectly timed. An instant later, a violent surge of electricity erupted from the shadows, illuminating the dark grove in jagged yellow light.
A crimson figure, charred and smoking from the shock, tumbled out of the canopy. It hit the ground hard but adjusted with predatory grace, flipping upright and immediately darting back into the trees.
"Metal Claw?" Ash recognized the shimmering silver glint on the Pokémon's massive pincers.
Another ear-piercing screech of metal against fur followed. Pikachu was sent flying back, crashing hard against a tree trunk.
"Pikachu, stand your ground! Quick Attack, go!"
Misty and Brock stood by, completely bewildered. They couldn't see the opponent at all; to them, it was just a chaotic blur of red and gold accompanied by the sound of a brutal melee. From the tone of Ash's voice, it was clear that even Pikachu was struggling.
What kind of Pokémon could appear out of nowhere and dominate the field like this?
One more explosive burst of current lit up the woods, and the red figure finally hit the dirt for good. Pikachu bounded back to Ash's side, panting heavily but still crackling with energy.
"Come out," Ash said coldly, his eyes locked on the fallen Scizor. "The games are over."
A second later, the Scizor's trainer emerged from the brush. He was a middle-aged man dressed in traditional samurai garb, carrying himself with the disciplined air of a veteran. It was no wonder the Scizor was so formidable.
Without Ash's Aura to track the movements and provide split-second support, Pikachu might have actually lost that skirmish.
Misty didn't care about the man's credentials—she marched right up to him and jabbed a finger at his chest. "Hey! What's the big idea? That was a dangerous ambush! If someone got hurt, what would you have done?!"
The man was visibly taken aback by her ferocity. He bowed deeply in apology. "Please, forgive me. I had no intention of causing harm. I simply wanted to test your strength."
"Test our strength?" Misty fumed. "That was a sneak attack! Because of you, Ash had to push himself again! You have no idea how much trouble you've caused!"
Ash stepped forward, gently pulling Misty back. He looked the man over. "Your Scizor is incredibly strong. If you're willing, I'd like to have a proper, formal battle."
The man looked embarrassed. "Again, my apologies. My name is Muramasa, and this is my partner, Masamune."
Ash looked at the Scizor with genuine admiration. The Pokémon was sleek, disciplined, and possessed a combat style that resonated perfectly with Ash's own tactical preferences. If he could ever bond with a Scizor of his own, it would undoubtedly be a candidate for his specialized Sync Evolution.
"I'm Ash, from Pallet Town."
Muramasa's eyes lit up. "To be honest, Ash, I've been looking for a trainer like you. Your command of the field and that... strange perception you have... it's beyond anything I expected."
It turned out that Muramasa was a renowned veteran who had retired to the forest to open a dojo. He dedicated his time to helping young trainers refine their techniques and build stronger bonds with their Pokémon.
As they followed him to the dojo, Ash saw dozens of trainers around his age training vigorously alongside their partners.
"Would it be alright if I challenged everyone here?" Ash asked, a hungry look in his eyes.
His "system" provided Exchange Points based on battle performance, but his recent purchase of Aura powers and the massive appetite of his Snorlax had left his pockets empty. A dojo full of trainers was essentially a gold mine for someone in his position.
"And I want another shot at you and Masamune," Ash added, looking at Muramasa. That ambush had only whetted his appetite for a real fight.
"I would be honored," Muramasa replied. "But before that, there is someone else I would like you to face."
"Someone else?" Misty asked.
Muramasa nodded. "My son, Shingo."
On cue, a purple-haired boy about Ash's age stepped forward. He didn't even look at Ash; his eyes were glued to the laptop in his hands, his fingers flying across the keyboard.
"In the last five years, I've compiled data on every trainer with a notable record," Shingo said, his voice cold and analytical. He turned the screen toward Ash, displaying a detailed file that already included Bayleef's recent evolution.
"Ash Ketchum. According to my calculations, you are a 'Type C' trainer. Typical aggressive style. You rely on overwhelming power and raw momentum to crush your opponents."
The analysis was sharp, but Ash only gave a cold chuckle. "So, because you've got some numbers on a screen, you think you've already won?"
"It isn't a thought; it's a certainty," Shingo said, adjusting his glasses. "I've mapped out the ultimate logic of Pokémon battling. No amount of 'spirit' can overcome the efficiency of pure data."
He had reason to be confident; every student in the dojo had already fallen to his predictive algorithms. To Ash, however, he was just a frog at the bottom of a well, mistaking the small circle above him for the entire sky.
Pop!
Ash tossed a Poké Ball into the center of the dojo. Heracross appeared in a burst of light, his horn gleaming dangerously.
"Shingo, was it? Use your precious data to try and beat my Heracross. Because until you do, every word out of your mouth is nothing but empty noise."
Pikachu Sync: 210/255