Chapter 9: Race in Cerulean Caves

Monday morning came before I knew it, and the first thing I did was walk hesitantly to class, feeling a flutter of nerves every time I thought about what was coming: the dreaded race in Cerulean Caves. I carried Dozy’s Poké Ball (my Alolan Grimer) in my pocket but planned to keep it tucked away for the time being. I didn’t want to draw too much attention to myself, especially after the library incident. I had no desire to become a topic of conversation again, particularly if someone suspected I had been involved in that disaster.

When I arrived at the classroom, I chose a seat at the back near the window, where I could lose myself in the chatter of the other students. My classmates seemed calm—some were yawning, others chatting excitedly about the upcoming test. Every now and then, I overheard phrases like “moving up a class,” “winning the race,” or “catching an interesting Pokémon.” Each one of those phrases churned my stomach.

Suddenly, the classroom door swung open, and a man with an athletic build, orange hair, and eyes that sparkled with endless energy walked in. He wore a dark tracksuit and carried an armful of messy papers. Without introducing himself, he fixed his gaze on us and raised an eyebrow.

“Good morning,” he said firmly. “I’m Professor Oscar. Your usual teacher is unavailable today, so I’ve been assigned to explain the rules of the race in Cerulean Caves. Who here is in Class E?”

Nearly everyone raised their hands. Professor Oscar nodded, as if confirming a mental list, and stepped toward the board.

“Alright. First of all, I assume you all know this is a race for all first-year students. That includes Classes F through A. Altogether, that’s about 800 participants.” He drew some lines on the board to show the exact numbers. “Let’s see: Class F—300 students; E—200; D—150; C—100; B—40; and A—10.”

A murmur spread through the class. “So many people!” some said; “There are really only ten in Class A?” others whispered. Professor Oscar raised his voice to cut through the noise.

“Yes, it’s quite the crowd. That’s why we have a staggered schedule for entering the caves. The first group will be Class F; five minutes later, Class E will enter, and so on with D, C, B, and finally, A.” He tapped the board with his marker. “As more advanced classes enter later, they’ll have to work their way through the students ahead of them. Many will say, ‘That’s unfair!’ but it’s actually a balanced system: if you belong to a higher class, you’re presumed to have a higher level or better performance. Besides, there are fewer of you, so it won’t be as chaotic to push through.”

I nodded silently, seeing the logic in the system, though I still felt a twinge of unease. With 200 people running alongside me in Class E, it would be a real stampede inside the cave. Professor Oscar ran a hand through his orange hair and continued:

“How will we determine who moves up a class? Simple. The order in which you exit the cave will determine your new ranking. In theory, if you finish among the top ten, you’ll enter Class A; the next forty, Class B; the next hundred, Class C; the next 150, Class D; then the next 200, Class E; and the last 300, Class F. Obviously, most will stay in their current class or move to an adjacent one. Only a few will make it to the top, and some may fall if they don’t perform well. Any questions?”

A brief silence filled the room. No one seemed willing to speak, so Professor Oscar went on:

“All types of battles are allowed inside the cave: group fights, one-on-one, whatever you prefer. Items are also permitted. However, you’re forbidden from disrupting the course in a way that endangers your classmates’ safety—for example, causing cave-ins or using illegal traps. Several teachers will be ‘monitoring’ secretly to prevent serious accidents. If intervention is needed, we’ll step in.” He shrugged. “On the other hand, there are wild Pokémon roaming the area. The Pokémon League Federation has released some to add difficulty and also give you a chance to catch them if you’re interested. Just remember: your priority is to reach the finish line as quickly as possible.”

Someone in the front row timidly raised their hand.

“Professor, how many Pokémon can we bring?”

Professor Oscar nodded, as if expecting that question.

“Classes F, E, and D can only bring one. Classes C and B can bring two. And Class A can bring up to three. Why? Because there are fewer of them, and since they start later, it’s only fair to give them some advantage.”

A murmur of discontent rippled through the rows. Some classmates protested: “That’s not fair!” “How are we supposed to win?” But the professor remained firm.

“Those are the rules. Keep in mind that you, as Class E, start earlier than most. You have a time advantage. That’s why you’re limited to one Pokémon, to prevent you from steamrolling everyone else.” He raised his messy folder. “With that said, get ready. In a couple of hours, they’ll come to teleport us. We’ll use Pokémon like Hypno and Xatu for the most part. You might see a Kadabra or two, but you know they’re rarer in this line of work.”

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I flinched at the mention of mass teleportation. Then I remembered the fleeting image of that Abra in the destroyed library, controlling an unstable girl… I shook my head to dispel the thought.

“If there are no more questions, I’ll head to the next class to repeat this whole spiel,” Professor Oscar concluded, closing his folder. He gave us a somewhat sympathetic look. “Good luck. This could change your life if you earn a good spot.”

He turned and left the classroom as quickly as he had entered. As soon as the door closed, the room erupted into conversations. Groups began forming alliances to better navigate the cave. Others, more ambitious, boasted about their speed or talked about their Pokémon as if they were unbeatable. I sank into my seat, my knees trembling slightly. Part of me wanted to skip the race and hide under my bed at home. But I remembered my grandmother’s words: “If you have to prove your strength, do it. If you can’t, hide as best you can. You have the technique, and those with sharp eyes will notice your Poison affinity sooner or later.”

I sat for a while, reflecting as I gazed out the window. My immediate goal wasn’t to achieve a top rank but to avoid making a fool of myself. I didn’t need first place; if I could move up to Class C, I’d consider it a win. I wasn’t ready to deal with the pressure of Class A or B, filled with students from powerful lineages, clans, or with superior techniques.

After some time, a monitor arrived to inform us that Class E was to head to the academy’s rear courtyard. I grabbed my backpack and followed the stream of students moving through the hallways. I kept my eyes on the ground, avoiding conversations. Several classmates were showing off their Pokémon—Rattata, Sandshrew, Oddish—fairly common for beginners. I remembered I had an Alolan Grimer, something that would undoubtedly stand out. Better to keep him in his Poké Ball, I thought, until the situation called for it. Besides, with all the rumors about the library, I didn’t want anyone connecting me to an “unusual” Poison-type.

When we reached the teleportation area, I saw a lineup of Psychic Pokémon: a few Hypno, several Xatu, and a couple of Kadabra, who looked more arrogant. Each Pokémon managed a group of ten to fifteen students. When our turn came, a Hypno swung its pendulum and let out a huff. I felt an immediate dizziness. My surroundings warped, as if someone were bending reality, and then the ground stabilized beneath my feet.

In an instant, we appeared at the entrance of Cerulean Caves—a rocky, expansive area with minimal lighting. I rubbed my eyes and blinked a few times to orient myself. The place smelled of dampness and wet stone. To one side, I saw a massive digital clock connected to a portable generator. In the distance, towering rock walls and branching tunnels formed a labyrinth-like structure. It seemed the Pokémon League Federation had made modifications to the area, adding railings and cryptic signs to enhance the maze-like feel.

“Attention, all Class F students!” shouted a teacher, pointing to the main entrance. “Your countdown will begin shortly. Ready… set… go!”

Hundreds of Class F students rushed forward without hesitation, nearly trampling each other. The noise of footsteps, shouts, and nervous laughter was deafening. Within minutes, the shadows of those 300 students had disappeared into the darkness.

I watched from a distance, my stomach in knots. Our turn was coming up. I glanced around at the Class E groups—my classmates, most of them just as nervous as I was. Some were discussing strategies, others plotting to take down anyone who got in their way. A few were laughing. I realized I didn’t have any allies to team up with. Should I try to join someone? I hesitated. On second thought, I barely knew anyone. Maybe it was better to go it alone.

“Class E, get into position!” another official called out.

I looked at the large clock: only seconds remained before our group’s release. As Professor Oscar had explained, five minutes after Class F entered, it was now our turn. My heart pounded in my chest. Before I could overthink it, the countdown hit zero.

“Go, Class E!”

A thunderous roar of shouts and footsteps erupted around me. Everyone in Class E surged forward, sprinting toward the cave entrance, adrenaline coursing through them. It was impossible not to get caught up in the collective panic and excitement. My legs itched to move—I wasn’t very athletic, but I forced myself to keep up with the crowd. Some were much faster and quickly overtook me. Others, clearly terrified, hesitated and struggled to find their pace.

The cave entrance swallowed dozens of classmates ahead of me like a gaping maw. As I took my first steps inside, the chill of the interior hit me, and the dim glow of scattered lights barely illuminated the path. Even with those lights, the atmosphere was oppressive. I was panting already, and I hadn’t even been running for a minute.

“Stay calm,” I told myself. “I don’t need to be in the top 10… I’ll be happy with a decent spot.” But at the same time, I remembered my grandmother’s expectations, and the temptation to climb higher gnawed at me. “Maybe making it to Class C isn’t so far-fetched.”

I pressed on, letting the human wave scatter through the first tunnels. I realized it was sometimes better not to dive into the fray, as it could be risky to battle with so many around. A couple of students were already shoving each other, trying to sabotage each other’s progress. I had no desire to make enemies.

“Better to move at my own pace,” I thought. “With some luck, I’ll reach Class C.”

And so, the crowd from Class E poured into the darkness while I, with my heart pounding, ventured deeper into the cave. The real challenge was just beginning. Around me, the echoes of footsteps, shouts, and movements reverberated off the rocky walls, blending with my labored breathing and the twinge of anxiety that reminded me that the Pokémon world, now more than ever, could become wild and unpredictable.

I glanced at my belt, where Dozy’s Poké Ball rested. “Don’t worry, buddy. If things get tough, I’ll call on you.”