[Target: Machop]
[Type: Fighting]
[Gender: Male]
[Level: LV.21 (Normal Rank)]
[Ability: No Guard (All moves from both sides will always hit—even if targeting allies. An extremely dangerous double-edged sword.)]
[Individual Values (IVs) Overall: A (Excellent. Especially in Attack and Speed, far above average.)]
Up to this point, the muscular guy wasn't lying.
This was an exceptional Machop.
If you stopped reading here, it would be the kind of starter partner countless rookie trainers dreamed of.
But—
When Logan's gaze shifted downward and he saw the two hidden Fate Strands lurking beneath the base stats, his pupils shrank to pinpoints. The smile on his face vanished, replaced by a gravity he'd never shown before.
[God-Tier Insight · Deep Analysis]
Potential Tier: Gym-Level
Current Status: [Violent and Irritable] (Its adrenaline levels are three times higher than average. It ignites at the slightest spark. It despises having its head or back touched. If provoked—such as being forced to do something or hearing a disliked form of address—it vents its dissatisfaction through violence.)
[Fate Strand (Black): Born Rebel (Protruding jawline visible from behind—commonly known as a "rebellious bone." This Pokemon is extremely self-centered and loathes being commanded. In its eyes, a weak trainer is nothing more than a weighted sandbag. Its so-called "obedience" only means it hasn't reached its breaking point yet.)]
After reading that, Logan understood everything.
What loyal partner? This thing was a ticking time bomb. Worse—it didn't want a trainer. It wanted a servant.
He withdrew his gaze, not reading any of the strands aloud.
What, was he supposed to say, "I have a system that shows me your Machop has a rebel trait"? That was how you ended up dissected in a lab.
A streamer needed packaging.
The more mysterious it sounded, the more people believed it.
Logan cleared his throat, adjusted his posture, and put on a cryptic expression. He even narrowed his eyes slightly, looking like one of those fortune tellers under a highway overpass.
"Bro."
His voice turned cold.
Even through the screen, the seriousness in it made the livestream atmosphere stiffen.
"You've had this Machop for about a year, right?"
ChadPumpsIron froze for a second, then nodded instinctively. "Yeah. One year and three months. Why?"
"Lately… haven't you felt like the way it looks at you has changed?"
Logan pointed at the Machop on-screen, voice low and steady.
"Especially when your back's turned. Or when you give it orders… have you heard it grinding its teeth? That low growl?"
The muscular man went still.
The mocking comeback he'd prepared died in his throat.
"How… how'd you know?"
He hesitated, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "It has been kinda moody lately. Sometimes I ask it to grab me a water bottle and it won't even move."
"As for the teeth grinding… Machop grinding its teeth is normal, isn't it? Maybe it's teething or didn't chew enough on its training block?"
"Normal?"
Logan let out a cold laugh and shook his head.
"Bro, I think you've lifted so much iron your brain's turned stiff."
"Too much white around the eyes, tiny pupils—that's a classic 'Sanpaku' glare. And look at its jawline jutting outward. In face-reading, a jaw so wide you can see it from behind is called 'gills.' The street term?"
"Rebel bone."
"That's not teeth grinding. That's sharpening a blade."
Logan's voice rose slightly, firm and unwavering.
"Pokemon with that kind of look are born temperamental and self-centered. It's not your bodyguard. It's your boss."
"It hasn't hit you yet because you're still feeding it. The day you really piss it off…"
"Do you honestly think it wouldn't swing at you?"
None of that was random. It was all based on the system's analysis.
But wrapped in the language of face-reading, it suddenly sounded layered with mysticism.
The chat exploded.
[Fawn in the Woods: Rebel bone? Sanpaku eyes? That's so creepy… I've got goosebumps. But looking closely, that Machop's stare really is intense.]
[Kindergarten Food Thief: Is this real? Streamer reads faces too? Aren't Machop supposed to be loyal? This is messing with my worldview.]
ChadPumpsIron had started to feel unsettled.
But seeing the chat speculate, his wounded pride quickly drowned out his doubt.
"Bullshit!"
His face flushed red. "Rebel bone? Sanpaku? That's feudal superstition!"
"I hatched this Machop from an egg. We're tight like father and son! When I lift, it guards me. You think it'd hit me?"
"Hit me? I'd like to see it try!"
The more he talked, the more agitated he became.
To prove their so-called father-son bond—and to slap Logan in the face—he did something that made Logan's eyelids twitch.
"Machop! Get over here!"
The muscular man turned around, exposing his completely unguarded back.
Then he pointed at a heavy dumbbell on the floor, speaking in a commanding tone.
"Show this idiot streamer our bond! Pick that up. We're doing squats!"
Apparently that wasn't enough. He reached out to pat Machop's head, muttering:
"Come on, son. Don't embarrass your old man."
"Don't move! Don't touch its head!!"
Logan suddenly roared into the mic, loud enough to make the nearby Munchlax jump mid-finger-lick.
Because in his vision, above Machop's head, the red status bar—[Violent and Irritable]—had shifted from red to a dark purplish crimson the instant it heard the word "son" and saw the hand reaching for its head.
The black [Born Rebel] Fate Strand flickered violently, like it was about to explode.
In Machop's logic:
Who do you think you are? My father? You dare touch my head?
BOOM.
It was like something detonated in Logan's mind.
On-screen, the "calm" Machop—
The instant that hand was about to land on its head—
Its patience snapped.
This wasn't calculated murder.
It was pure fury from being offended.
Its brows furrowed deeply. A hot breath burst from its nostrils. The corner of its mouth curled into a disturbingly human sneer.
It didn't reach for the dumbbell.
Its muscles bulged in an instant. Its right arm swung in a wide arc, glowing with a pale white light—
Move: Karate Chop!
But instead of striking like an assassin aiming for the spine, it lashed out like a pissed-off brawler.
Right at the exposed lower back in front of it—
"Screw you!"
"CHOP!!"
A furious, impatient roar burst through the screen.