Pokémon: Master of the Rain Team

Reiji made his way through the cave and crossed another mountain before he finally spotted smoke rising in the distance. People. Good. He headed that way, planning to ask the locals whether Muramasa’s dojo was nearby.

The people who lived here should know the place well. A dojo with that many students would not exactly be a secret, and some of the village children might even be training there.

At the foot of the mountain, beside a stream, he found a farmhouse and asked for directions. He introduced himself as a traveling Trainer who wanted to visit the dojo and learn there.

The locals were friendly enough and pointed him the right way. The dojo was at the edge of the forest, not far from the village. One family even mentioned that their child trained there.

After thanking them, Reiji left the village and headed into the woods. Only once he was among the trees did he release Scyther.

This was forest terrain. Walking through it without a Pokémon at his side felt wrong. Besides, he could not leave everything to Gengar and Lokoko. Those two Elite Four-tier Pokémon were his last line of defense, not tools to be pulled out for every little thing.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—

He had only just entered the forest when something cut through the air. A red streak flashed between the trees, darting and rebounding through the woods so fast it barely looked real.

There it was.

Reiji knew what he was looking at, and his whole body went tense. If this was Muramasa’s Scizor, then it was an Elite Four-tier Pokémon. One careless move would be enough to get him buried.

”Keh-heh… keh-heh…” Gengar’s voice echoed inside his mind. It had sensed how dangerous the Scizor was and was asking whether it should come out.

”It says this Pokémon is dangerous,” Lokoko immediately relayed through telepathy. ”Very strong. Maybe stronger than Gengar. Its speed is a problem. If we fight it, we have to slow it down first.”

”It’s fine. Keep watching from the shadows,” Reiji murmured.

This was probably a test. Bringing out Gengar or Lokoko too early would only expose his real cards.

The Crimson Streak flashed again, and a few moments later it leaped out from the trees. It was fast. Too fast for the naked eye to properly follow. The instant it appeared, Reiji finally saw it clearly.

A Scizor.

So it really was Masamune.

Reiji swallowed. Even with his future self’s warning, the pressure still hit him hard. That Scizor deserved the name The Crimson Streak.

Then he raised his voice and called out, ”Come out. I know you’re there.”

Rustle, rustle, rustle—

”Not bad, young man. Sharp eyes. You should make a decent opponent.” A middle-aged man stepped out from the forest with his hands tucked inside his sleeves. ”My name is Muramasa. This is my Scizor, Masamune.”

”The Crimson Streak?” Reiji studied the man, whose hands were still hidden in his sleeves. He had only tossed out a guess, but Muramasa had actually shown himself. His son must really be giving him a headache.

This was the man Reiji had come looking for. And that Scizor was every bit as strong as expected.

Even Gengar had warned him. If Gengar, as it was now, acknowledged Masamune as a threat, then Masamune had to be a seasoned Elite Four-tier Pokémon at minimum. It was nothing like that newly promoted Team Rocket Arbok from before.

Gengar had handled that Elite Four-tier Arbok on its own, which told Reiji plenty. Even freshly at Elite Four tier, Gengar could fight old, experienced opponents. Ordinary or newly promoted Elite Four-tier Pokémon were not enough to threaten it.

”That old name? It’s just reputation. I didn’t think anyone still remembered.” Muramasa turned away with a quiet sigh.

He hoped the Trainer he had found this time could finally knock the bad habit out of his son—the boy’s obsession with data had gone too far.

”Follow me, young man.”

”What do you want?” Reiji did not move. ”Why should I follow you?”

”You were just asking the villagers about me, weren’t you?” Muramasa turned back. His expression remained calm, but his eyes fixed straight on Reiji, as if he had already seen through everything. Reiji’s little act had not fooled him for a second.

”Tch. Trying to play mind games with old foxes like you is exhausting.” Since Muramasa had already called him out, Reiji dropped the act. ”Fine. I’ll solve the problem bothering you, and you solve mine. Deal?”

”Deal.” Muramasa turned and kept walking without the slightest hesitation, as if he did not care what Reiji wanted from him.

”You’re not even curious?” Reiji caught up with him. ”What if I ask for something impossible? Or did you already guess why I’m here?”

”You want the secret of The Crimson Streak. Scyther’s evolution method, and how to raise one properly,” Muramasa said with another sigh.

The Crimson Streak was a double-edged sword. It had brought him fame, but fame also drew endless Trainers who wanted to learn the secret behind his Scizor.

”Of course you guessed it. Old foxes are scary.” Reiji gave up trying to hide anything. ”Then say it. What do you want me to do?”

”My son grew crooked.” Muramasa’s voice stayed level. ”Under my teaching, he became obsessed with Pokémon data. He relies on it for everything. He believes no Pokémon can exceed its recorded values, and that no Trainer is stronger than him. So he stopped trying to improve.”

”Data battling, huh?” Reiji followed behind him and frowned. ”You’re his father, and you’re an Elite Four-tier Trainer. Couldn’t you just beat him once?”

A father losing to his own son that easily made no sense. If Muramasa had spent all those years training, surely he could still discipline the boy.

”I tried. It didn’t work.” Muramasa shook his head. ”As his father, I can battle him, but he says the data shows that before Masamune reaches Elite Four tier, his own Scizor has no reason to lose.”

”Once his Scizor reaches Elite Four tier, he says he’ll challenge Masamune properly. But if I use Elite Four-tier Masamune against his current Scizor, then I’m just bullying someone weaker. In his mind, at the same level, his Scizor is the strongest.”

”Tch. That’s some confidence.” Reiji nearly laughed. ”Didn’t you send him to the Silver Conference? He didn’t find any opponents there either?”

Reiji, who had nearly been cornered by Giovanni himself, found the whole idea of ”strongest at the same level” hilarious. Real villains did not care about fair brackets or equal conditions. They crushed you with whatever advantage they had. The kid had clearly been protected too much.

”He entered twice and won twice. After that, he lost interest.” Muramasa nodded, then shook his head. He understood how strong regional tournaments were. His son had brought home two championships. There was not much he could say after that.

”What about other regions?”

”He thinks they’re all about the same. In his words, most Trainers are weak. He has no interest in regional tournaments anymore.” Muramasa sounded helpless. His son really was strong. Too strong, in fact. With no losses to humble him, that strength had curdled into arrogance.

”Tell me your terms,” Reiji said.

Two championships left him with nothing to mock. The kid really did have skill. He might even be a quasi–Elite Four-tier Trainer. That meant Reiji needed to know exactly what Muramasa wanted in exchange for Scyther’s evolution and training methods.

At least the problem finally had a clear path. No wonder his future self had not bothered explaining it. This was simpler than expected.

”Break his dependence on data. Make him want to improve again. Make him train his Pokémon properly. Most of all, make him care about Pokémon battles again. Can you do that?”

Reiji stood with Muramasa in front of the dojo gate. When he saw the look Muramasa gave him, he understood at once.

The old man wanted him to beat Shingo so badly that the boy remembered why battles were worth caring about.

”Hah. I get it.” Reiji grinned. ”Don’t worry. I’ll sweep him three straight.”

”I hope so.” Muramasa gave a soft sigh and led Reiji into the dojo.

”Look, the Master brought another Trainer back.”

”How many rounds do you think this one lasts?”

”I’ve never seen him before. Probably another passerby. Young Master’s going to make him cry.”

”Here we go, here we go. This should be fun. How many Pokémon are we betting?”

”Two.”

”Three. Maybe four.”

”I’m betting he gets swept six straight.”

”Tch, harsh.” Reiji had barely stepped into the dojo before the students’ whispers reached him. Was he really that unimpressive, or was this just the curse of having the most ordinary face in the room?

Even Shingo, a supporting character, had purple hair. Reiji’s hair was black, the most common color around. No wonder nobody expected much from him.

”Dad, another one?” Shingo was lying under the eaves, basking in the sun. When he saw his father bring in yet another unfamiliar Trainer, he yawned. ”This is such a pain. Why do you keep bringing weak Trainers here?”

”Shingo. Want to try?” Muramasa did not scold his son for lounging around. Until someone proved otherwise, Shingo’s laziness was backed by strength. Among everyone here, he was second only to Muramasa.

”Let’s get it over with. Don’t interrupt my nap.” Shingo flicked a Poké Ball out and released a Fighting-type Pokémon—Hitmonlee. He barely looked at Reiji. In his mind, Hitmonlee would finish this in no time.

”Tch.” Reiji was not offended. Shingo had earned the right to be casual. He had two Silver Conference championships, one more than Reiji himself. Of course he had the confidence to slack off.

But Reiji was going to teach him what respect meant.

Even against weak opponents, Reiji fought seriously. That rotten habit of Shingo’s needed to be fixed.

”Go, Rhydon.”

Reiji had already decided who to use. With Poliwrath absent, his second-line Pokémon were not enough. His alternate-identity team was off-limits too, so his real choices were Rhydon, Scyther, and a few others.

Pelipper, Accelgor, Rhydon, Scyther, Electivire…

The first two were not ready to produce the kind of overwhelming result he wanted. Scyther was too fragile and could probably handle two matches at most. Electivire still had not settled into the team. That left Rhydon as the only one fit for the job.

Fortunately, Rhydon’s speed had already improved. Thanks to the Float Stone training, its weight had been cut in half, which naturally made it faster too. Rhydon’s base Speed was 40. Doubled, that was roughly 80. For a big blockhead like Hanhan, that was already pretty decent.

”Rhydon?” Shingo’s interest faded the moment he saw it. Against Hitmonlee, the result looked painfully obvious.

”Rhydon, catch it,” Reiji ordered.

”Rrrhgh.” Rhydon saw Hitmonlee swallow a Berry and shoot forward, its speed rising sharply. It scratched at the rough plates on its body and made no attempt to chase the blur circling around it.

When Reiji told Rhydon to catch Hitmonlee, he had not meant with speed. Hitmonlee was leaving afterimages now. Rhydon could never run it down.

So it had to do something else.

Bang—

Hitmonlee saw Rhydon standing still and drove a kick straight into its stomach. A Fighting-type move. Rhydon had a x2 weakness to it, which was exactly why Shingo was so confident.

But the instant Hitmonlee’s foot landed, it froze.

Rhydon’s hand had already closed around its leg.

Then—

Boom, boom, boom—

Rhydon lifted Hitmonlee high and smashed it into the ground. The dojo yard shook, dust bursting up in waves. It slammed Hitmonlee down again, and again, and again, more than a dozen times before tossing it back under the eaves.

Hitmonlee landed right in front of Shingo, unconscious.

Gulp.

”That was terrifying…”

”You can fight like that?”

”Are we just going to ignore the part where Rhydon took that kick and didn’t care?”

The battle ended so fast the students could barely process it. One by one, they swallowed hard. This time, they might have run into someone serious.

Even Shingo sat there stunned.

He had expected the match to end quickly. He had just guessed wrong about who would win.

After all, he had shown Hitmonlee first and given Reiji the chance to choose a counter. Who would pick Rhydon? It had 6 type weaknesses, and Hitmonlee’s Fighting-type moves hit it for x2 damage. Hitmonlee should have handled it easily.

But Rhydon’s resistance to Fighting-type attacks was far beyond the data in his computer. That had been one of Hitmonlee’s best Fighting-type moves, and Rhydon had barely reacted. It made no sense.

Shingo sat up at once, pulled out his laptop, and started hammering the keys. A camera feed opened, recording Rhydon’s data. This was a powerful Pokémon he had not accounted for.

”What’s wrong?” Reiji did not interrupt him. ”Can your computer keep up?”

As a Trainer, Reiji knew his own Pokémon inside and out. Battles changed in an instant. Most of the time, a Trainer had to rely on instinct, experience, and the understanding built between them and their Pokémon.

If you had to let a computer analyze the situation, send that information to your brain, organize it, think through it, and then give the order out loud, you would already be dead in a real fight.

”This is wrong.” After recording Rhydon’s data, Shingo stopped looking at the screen and turned to Reiji. ”What’s your name? A Trainer this strong should be in my database. Where are you from?”

”Reiji. Orange Archipelago.”

”Reiji… Orange Archipelago Trainer…” Shingo murmured the name and started typing again.

Reiji’s Trainer profile appeared on the laptop. In the strength evaluation column, the rating was S.

”I knew it.” Shingo’s panic vanished at once, and confidence returned to his face. ”There’s no way I wouldn’t have data on someone like you. I’ve collected information on every Trainer who appeared in major tournaments across multiple regions over the last five years.”

He looked at Reiji and began rattling off his analysis, every detail ready at his fingertips.

[End of chapter]

[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]

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