Professor Oak had been around the block more than a few times.

He was the kind of man who had seen it all, or at least he thought he had until Ash Ketchum came bouncing into his life, full of surprises.

When he heard Ash was ranked Tier 10, Oak merely raised an eyebrow.

The new ranking system, a post-World War II creation by the United Region Pokémon League, was still shiny and new, and Oak had known plenty of trainers who would've been Tier 10 if they hadn't had the misfortune of being born too early.

Red, for instance.

But then, Oak saw the footage of Ash in action - his battle with Gary, his performance in the practical exam - and his eyebrows went so high they nearly left his forehead. Ash's rapid-fire strategy shifts, his unorthodox approaches, and his almost unnerving confidence were not something Oak had expected from a newbie.

But the real kicker came when Ash started chatting up Abra as casually as if they were discussing the weather.

Oak's initial confusion quickly turned to fascination.

The idea that Ash could talk to psychic Pokémon because of a "strong soul" was intriguing.

Oak couldn't quite wrap his head around it, but that didn't matter.

The prospect of what this meant for human-Pokémon relations had him practically drooling with excitement.

"My boy," Oak began, trying to contain his enthusiasm but failing miserably, "how would you like to be sponsored by Oak Labs?" He tried to make it sound grand, but in his excitement, it came out more like he was offering Ash a spot in a secret club.

Ash, for his part, looked as if he had just been asked to join a circus.

"Like, you want to study me?" he asked, one eyebrow cocked.

Oak, realizing how his offer must have sounded, waved his hands frantically.

"No, no, well, yes, but not like a lab rat! Think of it more like... like a partnership! Your unique abilities could revolutionize our understanding of Pokémon!"

"What does this sponsorship entail?" Ash asked, trying to sound as calm and collected as he could, despite feeling like he was in over his head as he noted the reactions around him.

Delia's mouth dropped open so wide you could've caught a Zubat in there.

Yellow looked like she had just been told she could fly, and Daisy... Daisy just gave her grandfather that "I knew you'd pull something like this" look.

"Okay, so being a sponsored trainer is a pretty simple thing. I give you access to the Oak Lab's ranch and the League fronts you a bi-weekly stipend of 10k to use as you see fit."

Ash blinked.

Delia's jaw hit the floor.

Literally, there might have been a crack.

"But what's the catch?" Ash wondered aloud, his mind racing with the possibilities of what "10k" could mean in this world.

Ash's mind was a whirlwind of numbers and possibilities after Professor Oak's bombshell offer. 10k Pokedollars bi-weekly? That sounded like a fortune, but then again, Ash remembered something from his video game days that put a damper on his excitement: a bike costing a million Pokedollars.

If a bike was a million, what in the world could 10k buy you in this reality?

A wheel?

A bike bell, maybe?

Professor Oak continued, "The catch is that you're considered an active trainer who operates on my behalf and represents me in official tournaments while you conduct your own studies. Basically? You get paid to battle and bring prestige to the lab, and the better you do, the better grants I get from the League and the bigger your stipend becomes. I only have two sponsor slots since I'm the newest regional professor. One is going to Gary, but I have a free spot for you. Great, isn't it?!"

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Ash found himself at a loss for words.

In the stories he'd read, heroes would nonchalantly accept such offers, brushing them off as mere trifles. But Ash wasn't a hero from a novel; he was just a guy who'd stumbled into this world and somehow landed on his feet—feet that still weren't quite sure where to step next.

"Why?" he asked, his curiosity genuine.

He knew Professor Oak hadn't dangled this golden ticket just because of his Tier 10 rank.

There had to be more.

"Your ability to communicate with Abra, I believe, can help us create a lexicon of speech between man and Pokémon," Professor Oak said, his eyes twinkling with the excitement of a child in a candy store.

Daisy's reaction was immediate and dramatic.

She spat her tea across the table, her eyes wide as saucers.

"Grandpa, are you serious?" she coughed out, grabbing napkins in a futile attempt to clean up the mess.

Delia's hand flew to her mouth, her expression one of utter shock.

Yellow, on the other hand, lit up like a Christmas tree, her eyes sparkling with unbridled joy.

"You mean, I can talk to Chu-Chu?" she exclaimed, bouncing in her seat with excitement.

All eyes turned to Ash, who suddenly felt the weight of the world—or at least, the room—on his shoulders.

He tried to swallow, but his throat felt as dry as a Sandshrew in a desert.

"Uh," was all he managed at first, his brain scrambling for something, anything, to say.

"Ash, dear, you're going to be a pioneer!" Delia said, clasping her hands together as if Ash had just announced he was going to the moon.

"Yeah, Ash, think of the Pokémon conversations!" Yellow added, her enthusiasm doing nothing to calm the storm inside Ash.

Daisy leaned across the table, her earlier amusement replaced by genuine interest. "Really, Ash, this could change everything. What do you say?"

Ash felt like he was caught in a whirlwind of expectations, excitement, and way too much attention.

He looked at Professor Oak, then at the eager faces around him, each looking at him as if he had the key to a brand new world.

The pressure was immense

"I, um."

A telepathic nudge broke through Ash's swirling thoughts.

It was Abra, still chomping away at its meal, utterly unfazed by the human drama unfolding around it.

"Fuck them, what do you want to do?"

Ash couldn't help but smile as he reached out and gently patted Abra's head. It was a small gesture, maybe a thank you, or perhaps a silent acknowledgment of the only voice that seemed to care about what he wanted.

In that moment, Ash appreciated Abra's straightforwardness, a stark contrast to the flurry of emotions and expectations from everyone else.

"Thanks for that. What do you say?" he asked Abra, genuinely curious.

Abra replied, "Ask the old man to throw in a few hookers and I am in."

Ash's eyes widened, and he immediately said out loud, "I am not saying that."

Professor Oak, seemingly materializing a notebook from thin air, perked up.

"What did Abra say?" he inquired, pen poised as if ready to jot down some profound insight into Pokémon-human communication.

Hesitating, Ash stumbled over his words. "H-He s-says he would love to be a part of this," he managed to say, hoping his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Traitor," Abra shot back.

Caught between Abra's humor and the serious faces around him, Ash gave in.

"I... um... Sure, why not? It's not like I have a better plan for talking to psychic Pokémon," he conceded, his voice still uncertain.

Yellow's response was immediate and warm; she wrapped Ash in a hug, her excitement about connecting with her Pikachu shining through.

Daisy, ever the curious one, broke the momentary calm with a question.

"Gramps, why are you here?"

Oak, who looked like he had momentarily forgotten his purpose amid the breakfast drama, was jolted back to reality.

"Thank you for reminding me," he said, adjusting his glasses as if they were the gateway to his memory. "I've got news - some good, some bad. What'll it be first?"

Ash, who always preferred to rip off the Band-Aid quickly, opted for the bad news first. "Bad news," he said, bracing himself. He figured dealing with the sour before the sweet made the latter taste even better.

Oak began, "I tried to distract the media frenzy by revealing the Pokédex but..." He trailed off, looking like he had just tried to stop a Gyarados with a fishing net.

"It didn't work," Daisy filled in, not missing a beat.

Oak nodded grimly.

"To a certain extent, but not enough. The media's still after you, Ash. They want interviews with the 'Tier 10.' And it's not just the media," Oak added, turning to Delia with a hint of urgency. "Viridian City is in a frenzy. Your school, Ash, has been renamed 'Ash Ketchum's School of Prodigies.'"

Ash's jaw dropped.

"What?!"

Oak wasn't done.

"And there's a two-bit Pokémon trainer claiming he taught you everything you know. Everyone's trying to ride your coattails to success, and the media's lapping it up like a Meowth with a bowl of milk."

Ash's response was a simple, exasperated, "Fuck!"

Daisy, trying to offer some comfort, asked, "You need some aspirin?"

Ash snorted, amused despite the chaos. "Guess the medicine's somewhat the same in this new world," he mused, turning back to Oak.

"So, what's the good news?"

With a smile, Oak placed a Pokéball on the table.

"The good news, Ash, my boy, is that you passed the hidden examination conducted by Samuel Oak's School of Pokémon."

As he released the Pokémon from the ball, Ash's eyes lit up in recognition. It was Rattata, the very Pokémon that had assisted him during the practical exam. Rattata, sensing its moment of glory, puffed out her chest proudly.

"She is now yours," Professor Oak declared with a flourish.

"Huh?"