Chapter Text
I hadn't set my air conditioner this low last night.
I was a man of discipline, of repetition. I'd gone to work, then to the gym, had my six meals, played exactly two hours of ranked OU ladder, and set my air conditioning to twenty four degree celsius. A perfect routine for a perfect night of sleep.
In my bed.
Waking up in the cold snow on an unknown mountain was definitely not part of my daily routine. As I stood up, the cold wind hit me like a brick wall, making me realize just how underdressed I was for the situation I'd found myself in. In fact, considering the light T-shirt and jeans I was wearing, I should have died of frostbite and altitude sickness in my sleep. No amount of gymwork or musculature could save me from that fate.
There was also the fact that I had absolutely no muscular definition on my frame. It was also disorienting to see the world from a slightly lower height. This was not my body, this was not my life.
"What the fuck?" I breathed out, noting the fact that my voice came out strained. Whoever's body this was, it was younger, closer to eighteen than the thirty that I was supposed to be.
My exclamation was enough to arouse the reason why I'd survived the night. A small growl, like the sounds of a little puppy waking up, was the only warning I got before my eyes met its own.
It was fucking Growlithe, in the flesh. A shiny one to boot. There was no way to mistake it for something else, no dog could be that funky. The little ember it was cooking in its mouth was what was pushing away the brunt of the cold.
It was as I saw the relief and surprise in the little puppy's eyes that the memories hit me.
A momentary migraine worse than any I'd ever had forced me to my knees. The only sound louder than the crunching of snow under my knees was the worried barking of the Growlithe nuzzling me. None of that did anything to alleviate the influx of memories that hit me like a sledgehammer to the head.
Every single memory. Every living moment spent by Alessandro Bernardi, a young man who had barely turned eighteen a few months ago, flashed through my mind at lightspeed. My head throbbed with pain as I had to plant my palms into the snow to keep myself from collapsing.
And then, I knew.
The Growlithe next to me, a Growlithe that the boy whose body I was inhabiting had named Ashford, was surprised when I pet its head, and I understood why.
I understood a lot. I understood his life, my life now. Most importantly, I understood the series of actions that had led this man to his death on the frigid slopes of Mt. Silver, and boy, it was a lot to unpack.
What I didn't understand was why I - of all people - was isekai-ed as a fucking twink.
He hadn't made it far from his camp before he'd collapsed.
Ashford was incredible at pathfinding. I would have expected no less. He was a good boy, and the heat he emanated kept me from straying too far from him as well.
On the short walk down to the makeshift tent the past tenant of my body had set up, the world did the best job it could of reminding me that I had - in fact - been isekai'd on the slopes of mount Silver. Packs of Sneasel watched from afar. There was no malice in their gazes, just pure curiosity. Yet, one look at their hooked claws reminded me that, were it not for Ashford, I'd be in mortal danger here.
That was another revelation, the fact that I could estimate the power of a pokemon just by looking at it. I know that the original Alessandro did not have this power. I had a feeling that this ability was compensation for my isekai-ing. It made sense, after all.
The world ran on the law of equivalent exchange, that was a universal truth. The price of my body, my life, was repaid by an ability that people would kill to have in this world.
What the ability told me was that Ashford was strong. He was way past the point where a good trainer would have considered evolving him, and I understood why Alessandro had never even considered it.
Fire stones were expensive. They cut into the sponsorship money that Silphco. were paying him. Money that he thought was better spent on high-end hotels and fun. Rather than sleeping overnight at pokemon centers for free, he's chosen to turn his gym circuit journey into a glorified vanity tour.
He was a microcelebrity, backed by Kanto's biggest corporation through family ties. His gym challenge had been heavily televised, even though he was a below mediocre trainer. The majority of his pokemon were gifts from the upper management at Silphco. For any above average trainers, the money, the pokemon, and the favoritism would have been enough to trivialize the gym challenge.
Yet, a lack of discipline and a love for the limelight had led Alessandro down a path of waste. He was good looking, and favored by people in power. The media had followed him every step of his journey. They'd seen him breeze through the early gyms with ease, and why wouldn't he? He had fully evolved, rare pokemon. Trainer skill could easily be taken out of the equation with benefits like that.
Of course, once he hit a point where his opponent carried pokemon that were just as evolved and just as trained as his, his progress came to a grinding halt. Thirteen losses to the sixth gym, and thirty one to the seventh had led to him going from the media-chosen people's champion to an overhyped loser.
Yet, there were still three months left before the Indigo conference tournament. It was still possible for him to take on the eighth gym. The only thing that could have redeemed him was an easy win against the eighth gym. Yet, he knew that was an impossibility.
After all, he knew what was waiting for him better than anyone else.
That, combined with the pressure from the media and the world, was what had led him to this misguided attempt at removing himself from the census, and had I not inhabited the very same body he once called his own, I would have called him weak, a pathetic coward.
I gave Ashford's head a pat, enjoying as the little pup nuzzled my hand. It was a bleeding crime that Alessandro had not shown this little good boy the love and care he deserved. Then again, he didn't seem like the brightest bulb in the factory.
A perfect IV shiny Growlithe was a great starting point for any team, especially considering that, for me, this was a new start. All those pokemon that had been gifted to Alessandro had been returned once he realized he had no chance against the eighth gym leader.
"I'm going to need your help, Ashford." I crouched, locking eyes with him. The confusion on his cute little face was at odds with my own look of determination.
He cocked his head sideways, confused at my question. Taking that as my cue to continue, I forged ahead.
"I know I haven't been the best trainer. My failures can attest to that." I spoke softly, caressing his head as I did.
"But I aim to change that. The gym circuit ends in three months. In these three months, I plan to make a team from scratch." I spoke, already running various permutations in my head. I needed a team, a team that could not only beat the eighth gym, but also one that could trivialize even the elite four.
Competitive Pokemon was not played with one team. There was no one team that could dominate every scenario, no one set winning combo that could dominate a VGC regulation. It was a revolving door of strategies, one where pokemon were introduced and fell out of favor within months.
I did not have the time needed to train a revolving roster, not yet, so I need a general purpose team. Thankfully, my competition also did not have the same perspective on pokemon battling as those I once faced online and in events.
This was a world where the majority of competition was set in singles, where monotype teams reigned supreme. I'd change that, I'd show them how pokemon battles were supposed to happen.
"I'll make a team that will change how this world sees pokemon training. I'll make a team that will show the elites of this world just how average their thought process really is." I continued, thinking about the opponents I'd have to face, about how static they were as trainers. Their methods, their lack of evolution was the reason why 10 year olds in game were able to dethrone them with contemptuous ease, game mechanics aside.
With the knowledge gained from Alessandro's memories, I also understood the political power held by the league. Such power in the hands of trainers who refused to evolve and adapt was something that left me with a sour taste in my mouth.
"Something needs to shake this world up, and I will be that something, with you by my side." I spoke, watching a look of quiet determination creep onto his face.
"So I ask you again, can I depend on you?" I spoke, already knowing the answer before I even finished my words.
The reassuring bark I got from Ashford really was like music to my ears.
I found what little was left of Alessandro's belongings in his little camp. A trainer ID, a few empty pokeballs, a wallet that was still suspiciously heavy, and a jacket, within which was housed a case with six badges in it.
I slipped into the jacket. It was fur-lined and well padded. The fact that Alessandro had bought this before coming to Mt. Silver meant that he originally did not plan to come here to die.
Thankfully, he had left me in the perfect place to acquire a cornerstone for my team.
Mt. Silver was a diverse ecology. More importantly, it was an endgame area. The pokemon here were strong, and that was a necessity for someone like me, considering the time limit I had.
There were two pokemon I was looking for, and I'd seen a few of each. The benefit of actually being able to see the pokemon rather than encountering them in tall grass was a benefit for someone with my ability.
The first one I'd found was a Machamp, and it had taken me only a few moments to realize that this Machamp was quite a bit larger than what I was expecting. It wasn't till I'd found a few more that I realized just how much of a difference size made.
IVs, after all, were just a game mechanic. In real life, they manifested in more subtle ways. Physical differences within the same genus of pokemon that affected mobility, strength, sturdiness. Even without my ability, I could actively look at a pokemon like the machamp and tell its IV spread with reasonable accuracy.
My gift had its own uses, though. High IVs didn't mean shit if a pokemon wasn't a high enough level, and being able to get a ballpark figure for a pokemon's level was more useful than I could have imagined.
It also made me appreciate Ashford more. He was easily above level sixty. Under that adorable exterior dwelled a pokemon that was one evolution away from sweeping the eighth gym with the right held item and weather.
Something I would have to source once I got off the mountain, which was still a ways away, so was any chance of catching a Machamp. While closer to level forty, the Machamps were still fully evolved pokemon. There was no point taking that risk till I'd caught the pokemon that was more important for my team.
It wasn't till I'd spent a whole day searching Mt. Silver that I finally found my target, and not where I'd expected to find it either.
It was injured, but not heavily. Its rocky carapace was cracked, but not to the point where it was in need of a pokemon center. It was also alone, unlike the packs of its kind I'd seen earlier in the caves of Mt Silver, and at a glance, I could understand why.
It was large, larger than any of its kind I'd seen. While in any other context, this would be a good thing, for a pokemon that subsisted on dirt and lived in a pack, this was a problem.
There was only so much mountain dirt that the pack could safely eat without causing their own habitat to cave in. The amount of dirt needed to satiate a Larvitar of his size could cost them their habitat, or worse. So, he had to go, and the only way they could get their brother to leave was to make sure he understood they didn't want him around anymore.
Such was how nature worked. Yet, it offered me an advantage that I'd be a fool to not capitalise on.
I walked closer to it, and saw how its forlorn expression warped into a ferocious snarl. Yet, it was unable to hide the hurt that the poor little thing was trying to cover up.
"You're far from home, ain't ya?" I asked, trying to keep a comforting smile on my face. It was Larvitar's instant understanding of my words that made me realize that maybe my power of observation was not the only thing I'd gained with my transmigration to this world.
Sure, I always assumed that pokemon could understand their trainers to some extent. Yet, I thought that understanding was closer to that between a pet and its owner. You could train a dog to sit, to shake your hand, but couldn't make it sit down and empathise with you about topics as harsh as abandonment.
I'd originally assumed that Ashford was just more perceptive because he'd spend more time with Alessandro. Now? I was coming to realize that pokemon could understand me clearly, intent and all.
"Come here, let me take a look at those wounds." I gestured, taking a knee. I was trying to make myself as non-threatening as possible, yet I didn't need to. This Larvitar was just a child. A child that was easily level twenty or above, but a child nonetheless.
As he slowly waddled over to me, I couldn't help but feel my heart break. The pack had been quite harsh on him. It wasn't life-threatening, but a trip to a pokemon center was definitely worthwhile at this point.
It was as I was looking over its wounds that Ashford walked forward. I could see a momentary look of fear in Larvitar's eyes, before Ashford walked over and started to nuzzle it, almost like a dog playing with its owner's baby.
It was adorable, watching a small smile appear on Larvitar's face. Would have been a lot better if it wasn't accompanied by a steady stream of tears from its eyes.
"Would you trust me? I can take you to a place where they can fix your pains." I explained to the Larvitar, who, after a moment of trepidation, gave me a slight nod.
"I promise you, you won't regret this"
"He'll be fine, he's a tough cookie, that one."
I looked up from the washing machine to notice nurse joy standing at the door of the laundry room, a confused expression on her face. I gave her a smile, and noticed how her confusion changed into an awkward blush.
Guess there were benefits of having good looks.
"Thanks, Nurse Joy. That poor baby was kicked out by its pack." I replied. "I'm hoping he'll join my team. It's definitely a better option than trying to strike out by himself here."
She sighed in response. "That's true. There's something about the dirt on Mt. Silver that helps that evolutionary line grow faster. It's why the mountain is generally monopolized by Tyranitars. At least until Moltres migrates over in winter."
I nodded in response. The migration of the three legendary birds was what signaled the end of the gym circuit. Unlike the games, the legendaries in this world were an actual threat. Living, breathing natural disasters that changed the very ecosystem they chose to inhabit.
It was part of the Elite Four's duties to deal with them if they ever ran afoul of civilisation, and it was not something they were very good at. Thankfully, such incidents were few and far between.
It was as I was lost in my thoughts that I felt a tug on my pants. Looking down, I saw the Larvitar tugging on them, a hopeful expression on his face.
"You heard what I said, huh?" I asked, and got a nod in return.
"I'll be fully honest with you. I'm trying to create a team of monsters, of pokemon that will one day be considered nothing less than legendary in their own right. You, as you are, will likely be the weakest member of this team, and I'm going to make sure you work hard to reverse that and become the cornerstone the team relies on." I explained, watching his eyes widen in amazement.
Gods, Pokemon were far too adorable for my heart.
"Knowing this, will you still join me?" I asked, retrieving a pokeball from my belt and offering it to Larvitar.
He didn't even hesitate before nudging the ball with his head, officially becoming my second pokemon.
"Welcome to the team, Bastille." I spoke with a gentle smile on my face, letting him pop back out of the ball. The smile I got in return was enough to make my day.
"That's a strong name. Not quite as fitting as you'd think, though." Joy chipped in, a smirk on her face.
"He'll grow into it." I spoke, petting Bastille's head. "Won't you, little guy?"
Bastille replied by striking a pose, surprising both me and Joy. That surprise soon gave way to hearty chuckles, which even Bastille and Joy joined in.
"That aside, have you been able to procure what I asked you for?" I asked Joy, and in an instant, her expression soured.
"Do you really plan to spend a month up there? This late into the Gym circuit?" Nurse Joy asked.
"It's why I asked you to get me a month of rations, yeah?" I shot back, unsure why she was so surprised by my actions.
"Aren't you at the last gym in the challenge? The media's been going crazy trying to find you! You're being besmirched on online forums as a quitter!" She retorted, a shocked expression on her face. "On top of that, your team's not with you. Where are they?"
I shook my head. "My team's right here." I spoke, and a look of realization dawned on her face.
"The pokemon you used on TV… they were not yours, were they?" She asked.
"Gifts from my sponsors. Considering they're not with me anymore, you can imagine what happened." I answered, not revealing that they'd been given away by choice.
"Oh… That explains why you're rebuilding." She spoke. "Still, to spend a full month on that mountain. Even the most experienced of rangers don't dare stay up there for more than a week at a go." She countered.
I didn't want to tell her that where I came from, there was a ten year old who practically lived in that fucking mountain. I didn't think her mind could handle something like that.
"I'll be fine. Hell, If I don't come down in a month, feel free to call the Rangers to check up on me." I replied with a shrug.
"Honestly, you're so different from how you appear on TV." She replied with a deep sigh.
"You know what they say, Nurse Joy." I smirked at her.
"Don't believe everything you see on TV!"
"Okay so, this is what I need the two of you to do." I spoke, standing next to a Steelix tunnel with both Bastille and Ashford staring at me expectantly.
"Bastille, you know what makes these tunnels, right?" I asked, and got a quick nod in response.
"Well, I'll be blunt with you. Most Steelixes in this area are stronger than you. Some are even stronger than you, Ashford." I spoke, leaving no room for doubt. I then crouched down and picked up some loose dirt from the bottom of the yawning cavern.
"Yet, as they move through the mountain, they displace a lot of dirt. This will be your source of food for the coming week." I spoke, making Bastille pale in fear.
"Oh, don't give me that look! All I'm asking you to do is eat." I responded. "Ashford is the one who's gonna be fighting them."
I then looked over to Ashford. "You're going to be fighting the Steelixes. And before you complain. Remember, you have a type advantage over them and you're faster than them."
"Your job will be twofold. One. You are to protect Bastille as he eats. Two, you are to weaken any Steelix you come across to a point where Bastille can take it down." I explained, watching both their eyes widen in fear. What I was asking of them was nothing less than madness. Yet, there was a method behind my plan.
EV training was an interesting process. Defeating a pokemon gave a set number and type of EVs. Yet, the very concept of EVs didn't exist in the real world. What did exist was training, the same way an athlete would train specific muscle groups for their sports, what I was devising was a specific way to train my pokemon.
"There are a few more caveats to this." I continued, watching my pokemon pale further. "One. You two must only use physical attacks. Two, in the coming week, neither of you two must take any damage."
"And finally, by the time I'm back, you must establish yourselves as the Alphas of this area. Steelix should flee at hearing your footsteps. This will be necessary for the next step of your training." I finished, gazing at my two pokemon.
"Can I trust you to do this much? I know what I am asking for is a lot, but I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't have full faith that you could achieve it."
Dodging a metal snake that could come out of any wall it so chose to train speed and reflexes, attacking with only physical attacks to take it down without relying on recoil attacks to train attack, and allowing Bastille to get the final hit, focusing more on eating and dodging, maximising experience training.
It was doable. Hard, yes. But doable. And with pokemon like mine? It was the fastest way to grow, the only way I was going to have the kind of pokemon I needed.
The determined nods that both of them gave me were reassurance that even if they did not understand the method behind my madness, they trusted me enough to go along with it.
Good. You two get started. Meanwhile, I'm going to go find the third member of our merry band.
I had some training to do myself.
The beauty of the Machamp line was that they were - for all intents and purposes - bodybuilding material artists. And as such, they were very used to humans.
Bruno was one of the few martial arts nuts that came to Mt. Silver every summer to train with them. Yet, this was far past the season people turned up to turn with the Machamps and Machokes.
That, plus with my twinky frame, the kind of stink-eye I got from even the Machokes was… kinda emasculating. Twice so because even while being built like a stick, I towered over them, considering they were not exactly the tallest of pokemon.
The Machamps themselves did not even deign me with the slightest of their attention. There was a reason I'd designated a week for this part of my plan.
The pokedex said that Machamps knew every martial art that has ever existed. Yet, from the anime and from their movepool, two things became apparent. The majority of their fighting style was inefficient throws and haymaker strikes, and the only way they could be precise was because they completely dropped their guard while attacking.
No guard was an incredibly useful double edged sword. Yet, to get no guard, one had to sacrifice guts, and over the time I'd spent observing the Machamp, it had become abundantly clear which ones had which abilities.
Guts Machamps were always poisoned. I'd even seen them down poisonous berries before fights just to gain an edge on their competition. No guard Machamps, on the other hand, fought like outboxers. Always dancing at the end of their range, hoping to land a dynamic punch without getting hit in return.
It was the Machamp way of life. Constant competition to hone themselves as warriors. They ate, they slept, they trained, and they sparred.
It was simplistic in a way that I could admire. The pursuit of perfection was something I wholeheartedly supported. Yet, this was not the way to go about doing it. The body could only grow so strong. Yet, if the approach to combat didn't change, the result of a hundred spars could just as well be decided by a coin toss.
This world did not know about MMA, and I was more than happy to teach them… just as soon as I could convince them to actually be willing to fight me.
The problem with having the soul of a gym nut in the body of a frail twink was that even though I had the muscle memory to fight well, I did not - in fact - have the musculature to do the same.
Machamps and Machokes both got their ability to control their strength because of their belts. It was what allowed them to modulate their strength to a level where normal humans could not only train with, but also spar with their Machokes and Machamps.
Yet, neither of them would accept a fight with someone who they didn't see as a worthy challenge. And looking like this, I couldn't reasonably expect them to want to fight me.
So I simply started to train with them. It only took two days for me to win over some of the Machoke. They were friendly Pokemon to begin with, and once they saw me training, they couldn't help but come over and start giving me tips, even though all the tips amounted to grunting and pointing at larger rocks for me to lift.
Still, it was progress. That, and the act of working out after a while was also physically stimulating. I couldn't help but have fun just lifting rocks with some big guys.
It was on the fifth day that the Machokes invited me to join them in their sparring. There was a very clear hierarchy in the way they sparred as well. The Machamps finished their spars earlier and chose to sit around the little clearing they had designated as a fight pit. Every now and then they'd grunt out instructions, instructions that I couldn't understand. Yet, instructions that I also did not need.
I already had my game plan, after all.
As the metaphorical runt of the litter, I was given the choice of who to fight. So I did what I'd planned all along, and walked over to the largest Machoke of the group.
"You and me, big guy, let's throw down." I stated with a smirk, drawing cheers from the other Machokes. It was a testament to just how close I'd gotten to them in just five days that even the large Machoke, the one who had originally been completely disinterested in me like the Machamps had been, smirked at my declaration.
I knew that with this body, even with the Machoke controlling its strength, one lucky hit could absolutely fold me like a sack of potatoes.
We took our positions, and I lowered my center of gravity as much as I could. The Machoke raised a nonexistent eyebrow at seeing my non-traditional stance, before running at me at full send.
Which was perfect. As I slid under his grasp and latched on to his belt, dragging him down with the help of his own lack of balance.
As someone who had learnt Jiu Jitsu, Wrestling, and Kickboxing, a much-proven combination of martial arts for success in MMA, taking the fight to the ground was exactly what I'd planned, all because of one simple flaw I'd seen in the way each and every one of them fought.
I went for his right leg like a man possessed. While the Machoke was expecting the good 'ol ground and pound, a leglock was definitely not something he could have expected.
"Got you now, big fella." I taunted as I locked in my leg lock and pulled.
To its credit, even as he roared in pain from heaving his leg bent the wrong way, the Machoke did not tap till it became fully evident to him that there was no way out without snapping his own leg. Little did he know, even with his strength restrained, it was getting hard for me to hold my lock. When his tap came, it brought about a sigh of relief.
That, and a pin-drop silence that engulfed the entire clearing.
I rose up from the ground, soaking in the looks of absolute shock that painted the faces of every pokemon surrounding the clearing. It stayed that way until I heard two claps, that too from the target I had my eyes on from the beginning.
He wasn't the largest Machamp in the clearing. Yet, his musculature was dense. His arms were long, giving him great reach, and most importantly, his legs didn't look like he skipped leg day. The ideal traits I was looking for in the Machamp I wanted to pass on my MMA to.
The rest of them joined in the next instant, with the Machokes I'd become friendly with flooding the clearing to get to me. Pats on my back that felt like thunder, hugs that felt like submissions. I would have enjoyed the moment of victory if it didn't also serve as a reminder to just how this frail body was.
Still, I persevered. I helped up the Machoke I'd defeated. It was more of a symbolic gesture of sportsmanship. Even though I towered over the lot of them due to my gangly figure, they more than made up for it with their muscle mass.
"Good fight, big guy." I stated, trying not to wince from the pain I felt from the handshake. I also made a commendable effort of not falling flat on the floor as he slapped my back. I then followed him out as two other Machokes prepared to fight.
The evening passed easily enough. Watching the Machoke go at each other was like watching an MMA event, minus the intricacies. It wasn't until the last of the fights were underway that the Machamp I'd targeted walked up to me.
A motion with the neck, the universal gesture of 'follow me' was thrown my way, and I followed. We didn't go too far, just far enough to reach the tree that the Machamps rested around when they were eating.
"I assume you were interested in the way I fought. Right?" I asked, and got a nod of agreement in return. Machamp seemed to be a pokemon of few words. Rare, considering how boisterous their kind were.
"You already know it's not going to work on you, right?" I spoke, and got another nod in response. "Having four arms really is quite the cheat code. But I can't imagine having four of those does all that much for you. Your center of balance must be absolutely trash. That's why you've trained your legs so much, isn't it?"
This time I got a grunt of agreement and a challenge, all rolled into one. That mental process was also what tied into why I wanted this guy. MMA was just as much a game of fight IQ as it was of technique and brute strength. Being stuck as a guts Machamp with a mind suited for the intricacies of combat was a rough deal.
"You think I know more techniques, don't you?" I asked, not even needing an answer. "You believe that what I showed was part of a martial art that you and your peers have never seen. And you're willing to trade for it."
This time, there was a moment of silence as the Machamp sized me up. Then, it nodded.
"I'll be honest with you. The reason this art probably isn't popular is because it's built from the ground up to defeat humanoids via chokes and submissions. It would work on your peers, but how do you choke out something that doesn't have a neck? Or has a neck so thick you can't wrap your arms around it?" I reasoned, walking over to the tree.
"For you, I have a striking art I can teach you. A striking art that relies on elbows and knees, one that lives off precise, debilitating strikes that, with your strength, could bring even the mightiest Dragonite to its knees." I spoke, as I hit the tree with my shoulder. The machamp wanted me with interest, but my gaze was limited only to the falling leaves, and on the hope that my years of muscle memory would be enough to pull this off even with this worthless body.
My left hand shot out five times, fingers opening just enough to snag a falling leaf. It was an old trick, an archaic method of training hand speed while maintaining accuracy. Neither were things I cared about at this time, but the Machamp certainly did, by the way its eyes shot open in surprise.
"That finesse you lack? I can teach it to you. The IQ that truly makes a fighter into a champion, I can help you develop it further. Yet, all things come at a price." I spoke, offering him a pokeball.
"Come, build with me a team that will never know defeat." I spoke, leaving the pokeball on the ground between us. "A team that will bring about a new era of pokemon competition."
He took one look at the ball, then back at me. He then grunted once, pointing at me and then flexing. I replied with a sigh.
"Yeah, I'll do something about my physique. I promise you won't be trapped with a twig for a trainer." I finished. That was enough to sate the Machamp, who picked up the ball, and locking eyes with me, he pressed the button on it, becoming my third pokemon.
"Welcome to the team, Damascus." I spoke, picking up the pokeball.
I took the way it shook once to be an indicator that he liked the name.
This world really seemed to like me.
Except for the beginning of my time here, I'd really been going from one win to the next. Getting an incredibly powerful Growlithe, successfully convincing a powerful Larvitar to join me, and winning the favor of the most useful Machamp I could find. This run of luck was beyond imagination.
Then again, considering the legendary run of luck that followed the Pokemon protagonists, It seemed like it was part and parcel of living in this world.
Why was this important? Because right now, licking my face, was Ashford, who was no longer the size of a dog. No, in the place of the adorable little shiny Growlithe I'd left behind a week ago, was an equally adorable, but massive Arcanine.
It was also quite obvious why he had evolved. Next to the entrance of the cave lay a small pile of clear stones, each with the imprint of fire embedded deep within. They were warm to the touch, and to some extent, it made sense why they were here.
Moltres. The fire chicken uses this mountain as its roost for half the year. There was no way it didn't have an effect on the ecology. The formation of fire stones was the least of the impact its presence should have on the mountain.
Ashford wasn't the only surprise. While I'd expected Bastille to evolve, what with the fact that he was given the buffet of all buffets to partake in, I hadn't expected his Pupitar form to be quite this massive.
He was definitely over four feet tall, what with the fact that he came up to Damascus' chin in height. He was also trying to act cute, which would have been adorable, had his habit of nudging my leg not evolved into a habit of headbutting me.
Damascus meanwhile, was soaking in the sight of my pokemon manhandling me with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Thankfully, once Ashford and Bastille's attention shifted to him, and after a rushed introduction of their new teammate, they were more than willing to shower him with the same affection they had shown me, much to his ire.
It took them a few minutes to get tired of the novelty though, and once I had their attention again, I laid out the next steps of my plan.
"Okay, firstly, congratulations are in order. Ashford, Bastille, congratulations on your evolutions, and also on going along with the madness I put you two up to." I spoke, getting joyous cries from both of them. "The next part of your training is going to be far more intense, though, so don't let your successes get to your head."
The groans I got from the two made me sigh. "I know it might seem like a lot right now, but remember that every bit of work you put in right now will make the challenges we come across in the future much easier."
That cowed them a bit. Beside me, Damascus huffed sagely, my words resonating with the life ideology of the Machamp. Another benefit of catching him was having a more mature presence in the team. The kids were hyper and excitable. Having an anchor on the mature side would definitely help.
"Ideally, the next step of training would be to make you guys fight each other. This would teach you how each other fights, and how you can fight with each other in tandem." I spoke, internally cursing the fact that Indigo was still fully committed to the singles format.
"Yet, the league and all official competitions in Indigo do not require you to fight together. What is required, though, is that you understand yourself well. That you understand how to maximise your strengths and minimise your opponent's ability to expose your weaknesses. The rest? My commands will take care of that." I stated, watching them nod in response.
"Currently, out of the three of you, the only pokemon I can honestly say has a lick of a chance in the conference cup, is Ashford." I waved towards him, getting a happy yip in response. "Bastille, you have the greatest potential. You will keep growing, and when you do, you will become a wall that our opponents will break themselves against, one that can also hit back with the might of a god."
"On the other hand, you, Damascus, are to be this group's sword. Someone who can take down even a mountain with a punch if asked. You will be an overwhelming force, delivered with precision and skill." I spoke. "And to make sure you two grow into your potential, you two will now learn to fight in new ways."
"As for you, Ashford. Your job will be far harder. You have already gained dominance over the Steelix who would stake their claim on this part of the mountain. Now, you're going to take that a step further."
"Over the course of the next three weeks, you will fight anything and everything that dares dwell in this mountain. You will fight till you learn the most effective way to use your strength. You will have no healing, you will have no support. In short, while Moltres is not here, you are to establish yourself as the unchallenged emperor of this mountain." I finished, watching his eyes widen in surprise.
"In this endeavour, I wish you the best of luck. Always remember, I would not ask this of you if I didn't have full faith in your abilities." I finished, giving him a pat on his head. The determined look he gave me in return was enough to tell me that my words were enough motivation for him.
Good, he'd need it.
Without a word, Ashford bounded out of the cave, Bastille and Damascus' eyes followed him till he disappeared from view.
"As for you two, follow me." I spoke, snapping their attention back to me.
"It won't be fair on Ashford if you two got off easy."
While it was a bleeding shame that Mt. Silver did not have any of the water pokemon I would have liked to have on my team. Yet, the pokemon it had were perfect for what I wanted.
One of the more mystical methods of training perpetuated by myth and media was that of catching a fish with your hands. Sure, it is technically possible, especially with fish docile enough that getting your hands on them would be the end of it.
But once you give the fish the ability to fight back, and massive horns on their head to gore you with, the process goes from being a technical possibility to sheer madness.
That was the task that I'd conveyed to Damascus, while standing knee-deep in the waters of one of the many ponds that formed at the foot of Mt. Silver. The Goldeen and Seakings around us were very much unaware of our presence, considering the general murk in the pond and the fact that we were standing still.
Yet, the way they fled the moment I took a step forward, disturbing the water, was enough to tell me that this was the perfect way to train Damascus' dexterity, speed, and precision.
"You must think me mad for suggesting this." I spoke, giving him a wry smile. The big bastard had the gall to roll his eyes at me. Truly, what an unruly pokemon I'd caught.
Yet, the way his gaze returned to the pond's surface the moment he was done with his theatrics was enough to tell me that he was hooked.
"Remember. Do not compromise on your strength. You'll need to take out the Goldeen and Seaking in one hit, else they'll love to introduce you to their pointy bits." I said, "The leaf exercise won't work for that. So, give this your best shot. If you can clear this pond out by the end of these three weeks, I'll teach you how to put all that newfound precision to very good use."
I then turned my head to look over at where Bastille was going through his own training. At the edge of the pond, he was currently surrounded by a group of Sneasel, locked in a stalemate.
His task was the simplest of the lot on paper. All he had to do was take down the pack of Sneasel that had made their home near the entrance of Mt. Silver. They weren't the strongest of pokemon. In fact, Bastille was a good dozen levels or so above the Weavile that led the pack.
The problem though, lay in the fact that the Sneasel were incredibly fast and small. Over the last half an hour of effort, Bastille hadn't landed a single hit on any of them.
It was also a reminder of the fact that Bastille was a child. Of my three Pokemon, he had the least fighting experience. He'd been going for mindless headbutts instead of using his rock moves to reshape the terrain and make it harder for the Sneasel to traverse. That would simply not do.
Meanwhile, the Sneasel had his number. One would distract him while another would get him from behind. Sneasel claws were sharp, yes, but what they did to Bastille's body could barely classify as chip damage, almost as if they weren't even trying.
Because they weren't. After all, I'd already bribed them to play around with him. How? Well, that was simple.
Damascus's watery rampage wasn't exactly going to be PG13. Sure, he would take some time to land his first kill, but once he did, the kills would keep coming, leaving a lot of delicious fish for a pack of Sneasel who barely ever got to eat any.
The ability to have Pokemon understand me was truly a broken one.
"I'll leave you two to it, then. Do keep an eye out for Bastille when you can. If those Sneasel start to get adventurous, rip them into two." I finished coldly, getting a determined nod from Damascus, whose eyes didn't leave the surface of water.
As I began my walk back to the clearing where the Machamps trained, it was with a smile on my face. If this worked out, I'd have three elite-level pokemon before I left this mountain. I'd asked them for a lot, and while I could now kick back and relax, it would be unfair on them if I didn't also put in the kind of effort that I was asking from them.
Three weeks of training and eating would also do wonders for this dogshit body of mine.
Three weeks of eating, training, and sleeping under the stars. It was the most Zen I'd ever felt in my life. Just an endless train of good days, followed by the most peaceful nights a man could ever hope for.
A month of being in this body, and I was already beginning to forget my old life. The daily nine-to-five was a distant memory, so was the endless nagging of my parents to pick a hobby that wasn't competitive pokemon.
The daily hustle-bustle of the overcrowded city was forgotten as I fraternized with my new Machoke buddies. Sure, they weren't much for stimulating conversation, but neither was I when trying to deadlift a boulder I could swear was heavier than the 100KG scribbled on it with a sharpie.
The difference in my body was also quite noticeable. While there still wasn't much size to speak of due to the lack of supplements, the diet that the Machokes followed, with some addition of my own rations, was good enough to make me stop looking like a complete twig.
There had to be something different about humans in the Pokemon world, man. I'd watched Ash Ketchum, the 10 year old with the strength of a wet noodle, throw a wholeass log like a javelin. I'd lost count of how many times I'd seen Team Rocket jump down a good ten meters without being injured. Now? The fact that I was lifting weights that were already approaching the PBs of my original body, was really putting that thought back in the forefront of my mind.
Either way. After saying my goodbyes to the Machamps and Machokes, I made my way to where I was supposed to meet the rest of the team. We'd decided that the best place to meet would be the Pokemon Center at the bottom of the mountain. And as I walked into the Pokemon center, I was greeted by the sight of Nurse Joy fussing over Damascus, who had seemingly given up in the face of the nurse's insistence on giving him a checkup.
"Oh hi Alessandro! Just give me a minute to check up on this Machamp! I'll get to your pokemon next!" She spoke, spraying a potion at Damascus's face, making him erupt into coughs. I couldn't help but chuckle at the situation, as Damascus gave me a gaze that was halfway between 'I'll kill you' and 'please save me from this woman.'
"Please, continue by all means. Damascus there could definitely use a checkup after the hell I've put him through." I commented, leaning against a wall. The way her eyes widened, both on seeing the physical difference in my build, and also on realizing that the Machamp she was fussing over was my pokemon, was absolutely gold.
"You caught a Machamp? With what?" She asked. Her doubt was understandable. She didn't know that even last time I was here, Ashford could have taken down a Machamp, with some difficulty though.
"Oh you know, just had a heart-to-heart conversation. Damascus is a softie. I promise he doesn't bite!" I commented with a dumb grin on my face. He might not bite, but I was more than sure he'd be more than willing to use his newfound precision and power to blow open a few holes in my torso.
I didn't get to do anything though, as the sliding doors behind me opened, and I felt something wet and sloppy lick the back of my head.
"That's not a very nice way to say hi, Ashford." I spoke, petting his head as he nuzzled his massive face with mine. To the casual observer, not ,much had changed about him since we'd last seen each other, but I knew better. I knew just how much he had grown.
If he'd been a pokemon capable of standing tall in a championship lineup before, he was now the kind of pokemon a Champion would use as his ace.
Yet, I did not ascribe to that philosophy. My team would have no aces, but it would also not have any weak points. A team is only as good as its weakest link, and mine would have none.
"Wow… Ashford sure has grown." Joy spoke, still reeling from shock at the fact that I had a fucking Machamp on my team. Paled even further watching a shiny Arcanine walk in and start begging me for affection.
"Oh, Joy. the best is yet to come!" I gave her a shit-eating grin as I felt the ground under me shake. She felt it too, the way she tensed up as the tremors got closer and closer. The only thing keeping her from calling out her own pokemon was the fact that neither me nor my pokemon were the least bit affected.
As the looming shadow of the largest Tyranitar I'd ever seen covered me, I couldn't help but crack a smile at the goofy look on its face as it caught sight of me,
This was my team now, this was the starting point I'd forged for myself. It wasn't complete. It wasn't yet perfect. With time, though, it would be. Three more members, and I knew exactly where all I needed to go to get them.
"The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. This? This will be ours." I spoke, getting a knowing smirk from Ashford as i did.
"And so will the world."