“In or out of battle a pokémon trainer must always search for opportunity. A powerful pokemon in the wild is an opportunity to train; A blunder by your opponent is an opportunity to achieve victory.”
After the tournament ended the sun started to set and all I wanted to do was to go home.
Yesterday, however, Jeremy called me and said he had some good news and that he needed to talk to me in person. And so, at the behest of my best friend, I dragged myself to the public library in which he worked.
Since I knew I was going there to talk to him I had, in the morning, put some books in my bag that needed to be returned. Though now I regretted it and hated myself. The tournament that I arbitrated was in the central district of the city so I had to walk all the way over to the western district with three books in my bag, together with my work clothes and a bulky laptop.
I looked towards the sun. The temperature was fading but still not as fast as I would have liked. The only good thing about going to the library now was that usually at this hour it was empty and then I was able to talk without the need to whisper. I walked through many blocks. The modern buildings and the crowds of people and diverse pokemon of the central district were soon replaced by the old traditional style buildings of the Slowpoke district, a welcoming lack of activity, and, of course, the lazing Slowpokes and the children and elderly who accompanied them.
After half an hour of walking, I reached the small, white-marbled building and as I climbed the steps, sweat dripping from my brow, I noticed that at the very last step sat a Slowbro who was reading a book by holding it with psychic energy. It turned its head to me and nodded in greetings which I returned. Looking satisfied, he returned his attention to the book.
I briefly observed him and his shell tail. It was not rare at all to see Slowpokes in Azalea because of the Well, they were in many places in the city, lazing about, sleeping in parks, ponds, fountains, and trees and some even played with children and their families pokemon, especially near the Slowpoke district, but to see a Slowbro was unusual. Their evolution was stranger than most, so not many people knew how to evolve them, most just knew that it involved a well-trained Slowpoke and a Shellder.
I entered the library and saw Jeremy, the green-haired man with glasses dressed in formal work attire, at his familiar counter by the library’s entrance. I looked around the room and to my surprise there was another person in the room, at one of the tables, far from the counter, sat a small black-haired girl, probably twelve or thirteen years old, in a white long skirt and pink blouse, she looked very engrossed in her book.
“Hey, Jeremy, I brought some books I took last month,” I said quietly as I put my bag on the counter, opened it, and began to take out the books.
“Hey, friend who only visits when I call, how you are doing ?” He said amused. He took the books and began to update, on his computer, the system catalog.
I chuckled quietly, Jeremy was a friend I had made when I was just a child who came here regularly to read books. At the time he was an assistant to the old librarian who, after Jeremy became old enough to take his position, retired and allowed Jeremy to take his position. He was also the only one of my few friends who knew that I wanted to be a pokemon trainer.
“Same old, same old, how was here today?” I asked. “With this many people in the city for the pre-circuit events and tournaments, there must be more circulation here than normal, right?”
He looked up from his computer and pushed up his glasses. “More than usual but not that many, it is what I tell you Scott, young people don’t want to read books anymore, not even trainer or pokemon related ones. Most trainers at the pre-circuit tournaments are casuals who are looking for fun battles and the more serious ones use laptops and the Pokenet nowadays.”
I, of course, knew of laptops and the Pokenet, I had my own in my bag, a cheap one, but enough for my purposes. One thing, however, that struck me about the Pokenet, when I did use it, was how empty it was. Having been officially opened to the public just five years ago, it didn’t really have that much material as it depends on people to fill it, which takes time and, in some cases, money.
I nodded. “That’s why they are so bad this year then.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, oh great pokemon master.” He chuckled and crossed his arms as he finally finished with his computer.
“I'm serious,” I said, “today I refereed a semi and a final from a beginner tournament in the central district. The final was a Sentret versus Azurill, the Azurill was just able to use three weak Water Gun before becoming too exhausted and fainting from a single weak Quick Attack.”
“Ok, that does sound bad.”
I reveled in my argumentative victory and looked around the small library and its gorgeous bookshelves full of books. It is not that I am against the Pokenet but there is absolutely not enough information there right now to offset reading books like trainer manuals and trainer biographies in the public libraries. The government was not idle though, most of Jeremy’s job these days was to digitalize all these books so that the people who only use the Pokenet can, at least, have a chance to read them.
“So what’s the news that is so important that we need to talk in person?”
“Oh yes, I almost forgot.” He grinned at me and leaned forward, pushing his fingers together like a villain in a movie. “You know that one pokemon from your list that you wanted?”
“Which one?” I laughed and asked before fully understanding what he said. “You’ve remembered my list, how nice of you.”
“If you stopped talking about it for a second maybe I would forget.” He was exaggerating I'm sure. “Three months ago you said you wanted a Baltoy.”
I spent some seconds thinking and then recalled that conversation. A while back, three months if Jeremy was correct, I showed him the full list of pokemon that I would like to train, more or less eighty pokemon, when I truly became a trainer. Jeremy then told me that his father, who is an archeologist with a specialization in lost human civilizations, occasionally found some of these pokemon at sites that he excavated.
My eyes widened and I went still. “He found some?”
He pushed his glasses up with a smirk and smugly leaned back. “He found a group near some underground cave south of Alph, I talked to him, and if you want to buy one he can do standard price at a discount of thirty percent.”
“What?!” I almost shouted.
“Shh.” He put his finger on his lips and briefly looked at the girl. “Yes, at first he wanted to make it twenty, but I convinced him to lower the price a little more… So? Are you buying?”
I stopped to think about it for a minute.
The clay doll pokemon, Baltoy. He was not on my first team candidates just because they were so rare, with their habitat being underground ruins, and when they did get unearthed they sold very fast so if you were not in the right circles when you became aware of a new batch they were already gone. Their evolution, Claydol, held great potential and I firmly believed that no trainer had ever unlocked the full extent of what was possible with one, not even Champion Steven.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Considering the standard price which a Baltoy would sell it would still be expensive for me and, of course, would delay the journey by… Three months, if I wanted to buy another pokemon before starting, which I did, that meant that I would start my planned circuit debut four months behind, however, a Baltoy was too good to pass, and if I started to train him right now, starting four months late two years from now wasn’t going to be a problem as he would learn Teleport.
By the smirk on Jeremy’s face, he was having fun seeing the changing expressions on mine. “Yes, I am buying it. Legendaries, I don’t know what to say, thank you very much.”
“Sure…” He nodded distractedly and then inclined forward to look at something small behind me.
“Can I buy one too?” Said a tiny voice from behind me.
I yelped and almost jumped from where I was leaning on the counter. The girl who was supposedly engrossed in her book had silently walked behind me. Now that she was near I could see that she had a pokemon belt with two normal pokeballs in it.
“I'm sorry, can you speak a little louder, miss?” Jeremy asked.
“Can I buy one?” She repeated more loudly, “I will pay full price.”
“Uhm.” He looked at me and then back at her, it was easy to see that he was a little embarrassed. “I will have to speak to my father tonight to see if he wants to sell another one, in the meantime, could you give me your number? I will call you when I have the information.”
She picked up a pencil from her bag and a notebook and then ripped a piece of paper from one of the pages, slowly wrote her name and her number on the counter, and then gave it to Jeremy, who read it.
“Well, Miss Sophia, I will contact you with more information later, ok?”
“Ok, I will be going now, it is my understanding that the library will close soon, correct?”
“That is right, 7 p.m.”
She nodded, put away her things in a backpack, heaved it on her shoulders, and left.
“A strange little girl,” Jeremy said.
“I think she was ok. Probably just eager for a psychic.” He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “She is probably a psychic-type trainer, I saw a Slowbro outside sitting on the stairs. I think it was waiting for her.”
“Ah, that makes sense.” He nodded.
“Thank you again, Jeremy, I appreciate the help… And when I become a famous and rich trainer I will award you generously.” I shook his hand and then pulled him into a hug.
“Haha, I’d hope so. But really don’t sweat it, I will call my father today and then you can get the Baltoy in more or less a week in the Pokemon Center near your house.” He leaned on the desk. “So when do you think you can begin your journey?”
“If I get everything I want right. It will start in two years.”
“Well eighteen is not that old to start a trainer career, in Unova and the rest of the new world they begin at sixteen.” He said. “At least Cape, and now this Baltoy, are going to be beasts when you leave for your journey. How it’s going? The training I mean?”
“He is already good enough for a second badge match, as always strangely obsessed with Aerial Ace but I think I can make it work for him to the high ranks.” I responded. Cape, my Heracross, already was way ahead of the curve and that is with only training on the weekends. “Speaking of him I have to go, he is probably waiting for me, I promised that we would watch the rerun of the Lily Conference.”
“Really, you?” He looked me up and down. “Watching the newbies group stage?”
“What can I say? He likes watching battles.”
He laughed and made a whipping motion, “Whipped, but do tell him that when the elimination stage begins, the little fellas and I are going to your house to watch with you guys. Guess what, Rockarm is going to be fighting and Taylor wants to watch.”
I chuckled a little. Wherever the little Rhyhorn sees a Rhyperior fight—which is very rare as there were only three non-wild ones in the entire world—Taylor becomes ecstatic and starts to jump up and down, which, if he was a normal example of his species would probably destroy my floor. Thankfully, he was half the height of an average Rhyhorn, so it was just adorable.
“Sounds good to me, the pizzas are on your tab though.”
---
A half-hour stroll later I had reached my apartment complex. I climbed the stairs on the side of the building and reached for my door when I saw my neighbor, who was a student from the university nearby, leave her apartment while checking something in her purse. A small and familiar Rattata was perched on her shoulder.
“Hi Nancy, Mic.” I waved at them.
The Rattata reacted first by making a squeaky cheerful sound at me. The blond girl in jeans and a jacket was distracted and startled by the call. She looked up and when she saw it was me, she smiled and replied. “Hi Scott, Ah, I have something for you, wait a minute please.”
She went back into her apartment and came back right away with bound letters in her hand.
“A deliveryman came to give some letters to you, but since your Heracross didn’t answer the door he knocked on mine and left them with me.” She said.
I slapped my face and she smiled. Legendaries, Cape was probably too engrossed in the battles again. I swear the apartment might be on fire and he wouldn’t move a muscle, and that was being a bug pokemon.
“Thank you for holding it for me, Nancy, and I'm sorry for the inconvenience.” I took the letters and bowed to her.
“Haha, no problem, that’s what neighbors are for right, Mic?”
“Tata.” The little guy, again cheerfully, responded. She passed me while delivering a pat on my shoulder and then went down the stairs, the Rattata still on her shoulder.
Now that I thought about it, I never saw Mic in another place that was not on her shoulder.
I entered my apartment, took my shoes off, put the letters onto the center table of the living room, and went to look for Cape where he obviously would be, in our room, or more precisely in front of the television. I opened the door and saw the insectoid pokemon sitting in his green puff and watching the final battles of the group stage.
The Heracross had heard the door opening and slowly turned its head to watch Scott with wide eyes.
I sighed. “Cape, we agreed that you would wait for me and that we were going to watch the rerun together.”
My starter quickly got up, walked up to me gave me a quick hug, and then gestured to the other puff, the yellow one, and tried to get me to sit on it and watch the last battles of the day before the rerun started.
“First of all,” I flicked a finger at his forehead, they both knew that it had done nothing because of his exoskeleton, but he still put on an outrageous look at the “violence”, the joker. “I know you like to watch battles but if someone knocks on the door you have to answer… I don’t care if it’s a good battle or not. Second, there are some letters that I need to see before watching the battles. Later, I will watch the rerun with you so call me when it starts.”
“Cross.” He nodded and saluted, he was really obsessed with saluting for some reason and walked back to his green puff to watch a Swablu fight a Nidoqueen, I stayed for just one minute just to see who might win.
The Swablu was good. It had good, synergetic moves and was proficient in them but was, by its size and muscles, trained to be a bulk fighter focused on physical moves, unlike Leader Clair’s Altaria who trained with a focus on speed and so it was relatively slow, which was probably why it had been hit by some Poison Stings and was now falling because of an Water Pulse. It could come back, it was, after all, exchanging some blows, but it probably won’t, that Nidoqueen looked too experienced to squander a lead like that.
“The Nidoqueen is going to win,” I said before leaving the room. The last thing I heard from the room was a groan from my pokémon. He probably had waved his hands to the air in exasperation too. I smiled at his shenanigans. Cape was smart but he hadn’t yet developed the skills to analyze battles as they were happening, which is why one-sided battles like those in the group stage were still thrilling for him. Every new twist was a mystery.
I reached the living room, went to the kitchen, and prepared a sandwich and a coffee. While the coffee was brewing I looked at the sink and smiled at the clean dishes at the dryer. I never asked Cape to wash the dishes after he had eaten his afternoon meal. I knew it was hard for him with only two claws. However, the first time he saw me wash he was so fascinated with the cleanness of it that he always did it even if he took three times as much to clean as I would.
I sat on the sofa with my coffee and picked up the letters.
There were two. I picked the first one. It came from the Laboratory of Goldenrod and opening it, I saw that it was a letter from Professor James, who this year was focusing on researching pokemon status moves. It was a rejection letter.
I had applied for this program that had opened there for pokemon trainers one month ago. The professor was searching for people who were interested in status moves for his research, and he probably decided to go with the safe option of taking people who were already trainers. I didn’t blame him but I still felt a sting of disappointment. It was not my first time being rejected so I took a deep breath and forgot about it.
Ok, it still hurts a little bit. I will forget about it tomorrow.
I put the letter down, picked the other one, read the dispatcher, and scratched my head in confusion. It didn’t have a name. It just said that it came from a laboratory in a place called Pallet Town.
wn.