Every eye in the arena locked onto the handsome young Trainer standing at center field. A Finance Department freshman from Metro City University had just steamrolled a field of genuine prodigies straight into the Piplup Cup finals?
The crowd sat in stunned silence for a beat — then erupted into an absolutely deafening cheer.
"LUKE IS INCREDIBLE!"
"HAUNTER LET'S GOOO!"
Up in the box, Chairman Preston found himself nodding, quietly impressed. Making the finals and still carrying himself with that much humility — genuinely has the bearing of a true master.
Luke, meanwhile, just looked baffled.
This doesn't add up. How is everyone this weak?
His whole reason for entering had been to make sure Haunter walked away with zero regrets. Sure, most of his BP exchanges had gone straight into Haunter's stomach one way or another, and he'd picked up guidance from half the group chat's roster of legends along the way — but he hadn't actually put in serious training time, not really.
And somehow that's enough for the finals?
"This year's rookie crop just isn't that strong," Luke muttered to himself.
______________________________
Hannah, despite the loss, showed zero disappointment — if anything, she looked like this had gone exactly as expected. Just getting to face Teacher Luke in an actual match was already more than enough for her.
"Teacher Luke, picture together later?" she asked, eyes shining. "And I really want to ask about your specific training methods!"
Luke's expression twisted slightly. My training methods? Do I... actually have training methods? Why do I not know this about myself?
"I'll, uh — cover it on stream sometime," he managed.
"Deal! I'll go send you gifts as soon as I'm home!" Hannah beamed.
______________________________
The semifinals wrapped, and word of Luke's finals berth tore through the entire Metro City Trainer scene. Between his growing "tactical genius" reputation online and Haunter's absurd growth curve, people started genuinely questioning whether the internet hype was actually understating things.
Could a brand-new Trainer really be this much of a mystery? The deeper people dug into his background, the less anything added up. Multiple Gym Leaders had publicly praised his tactics. Even Koga, the Poison-type Elite, had reposted his content. Rumor even had it he had some kind of personal connection to World Champion Red himself.
Over at the Metro City Pokémon Association offices, Chairman Preston set down a stack of documents, expression deeply conflicted.
Is he... some big shot's secret illegitimate kid?
Luke's actual reasons for entering the Piplup Cup were transparent enough on paper. But his background check had come back suspiciously, thoroughly normal — nothing hidden, nothing dressed up. Just an ordinary Finance Department freshman at Metro City University, indistinguishable from a thousand others.
And somehow, that unremarkable-ness only made Preston more uneasy. How does a first-year with zero connections end up tangled up with the actual World Champion? Something about how clean his file looked felt, paradoxically, like it had to be hiding something.
"I can't dig any further than this," Preston muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Better to just... treat him like any other competitor and leave it there."
______________________________
Blissfully unaware he'd just been mentally promoted to secret VIP status, Luke waved off a wall of interview requests and rushed straight home, hands and feet already going cold with dread.
"Eevee knows Bite now, right..." he muttered. "Should be fine. It's been totally normal the past few days."
Despite the reassurances, he was already mentally bracing for the worst. "As long as the house is still standing, everything's fine."
Schrödinger's Husky, essentially. Whether the dog demolished the house or not existed in a state of pure uncertainty right up until the door actually opened — a state of quantum superposition, demolished-and-not-demolished simultaneously. And really, foxes — Eevee's rough evolutionary archetype — weren't so different from dogs when you got down to it.
He eased the door open carefully, glanced around — and let out a long breath of relief. Everything intact. Walls clean and white, the faint scent of lavender still lingering in the air, exactly as he'd left it.
"Right, obviously. Overthinking it again." Luke relaxed, almost cheerful. "How would something this cute ever wreck the place?"
"Kojie?" Haunter scratched its head. Eevee was nowhere in sight — but a trail of paw prints led across the floor and straight out through the pet door at the bottom of the front door.
Haunter studied the trail like a seasoned detective, rubbing its chin thoughtfully.
"Wait, where'd Eevee go?" Luke blinked.
"Kojie!" Haunter pointed at the pet flap.
Luke's face fell slightly. "It didn't just... run away, did it?!"
The previous tenant had kept a Meowth that came and went on its own schedule, hence the flap cut into the door — but Eevee barely knew its way around the neighborhood yet.
"Come on, Haunter, let's search nearby."
He was halfway out the door when his phone buzzed. A message from Ms. Carter, the landlady, tone unusually stiff.
"Luke, are you free right now? Please come to the Pokémon Center on Line 3."
She never used his full name like that. Before he could type a reply, a photo came through — a Growlithe, wrapped head to toe in bandages, eyes brimming with tears.
"The security guard thinks Eevee did this to it."
Luke stood there, stunned. A rustling sound came from the door.
A visibly bruised Eevee squeezed in through the flap, ears perked, baring its teeth in what could only be described as a proud grin.
"Vee!"
______________________________
The whole thing had started while Luke was busy in his match. Eevee had been curled up napping on the bed when it suddenly flipped upright, eyes sharpening with alert focus, and shot straight out through the pet door.
It made its way down the corridor and out into the neighborhood, methodically sweeping the surrounding area — a habit carried over from its time in the mountains. With Anticipation active, patrolling its territory for threats came naturally.
Except unlike most Eevee running the same ability, Luke's seemed to have developed a distinctly personal interpretation of what "threat assessment" meant.
Its ears twitched twice, and it darted into a hedge.
Nearby, two young boys squared off by a flowerbed.
"My Nidoran won't lose to you!"
"Bring it, my Caterpie just evolved into Metapod!"
Right as Nidoran and Metapod clashed, a blur of Quick Attack shot out of the bushes. Eevee landed two clean, low-effort knockouts, gave a satisfied tail flick, and vanished just as smoothly as it arrived.
Had Luke's system been watching, it surely would have let out a long groan.
[Eevee's experience points are increasing!]
The two boys, left staring at their fainted Pokémon, immediately burst into tears in unison.
"MOMMY THERE'S AN EEVEE"
______________________________
The neighborhood also had a persistent stray Meowth problem, one residents complained about constantly with no real solution. Eevee was mid-stroll when its whole body suddenly tensed, ears snapping sharp.
Anticipation: triggered.
Rather than retreat, it bared its teeth and charged straight into the cluster of Meowth, something fierce and determined burning behind its eyes.
Keep sharpening the blade. I have to get stronger.
"Meow!!" The Meowth scattered in a panicked chorus of shrieks.
Eevee licked a bead of blood off its own brow and flashed a distinctly smug smile.
"Vee!"
[Eevee's experience points have increased significantly!]
Catching its breath afterward, a passing Growlithe wandered up, curious, tail wagging idly. It tilted its head at Eevee — then froze solid, every instinct screaming that it had just locked eyes with something that considered it prey.
A cold sweat broke out as it let out an awkward, placating bark.
"Kao!" — just passing through, honestly!
Eevee turned its head slowly, licked the corner of its mouth, and gave Growlithe the warmest, friendliest smile imaginable.
"Vee~!"