Chương 48: No Easy Matchups

Rine knew Brock's likely team. That made preparation worse. In his old world, Pewter's first-badge roster had been one of the most familiar battles in Pokémon history: Geodude, then Onix. Levels varied by game, as did moves, but the lesson remained simple. Rock and Ground punished players who chose Fire and rewarded Water or Grass. Rine had Veyra. Dark, Fire, and Electric met Rock/Ground with one useful attacking route—Bite—and several terrible defensive interactions.

Ground threatened her cores at fourfold resonance. Rock struck the Fire expression super effectively. Electric moves did nothing. Morrow possessed Levitate and immunity to Normal attacks. Geodude and Onix could still hit him with Rock techniques, and his recovering core lacked the durability for repeated impacts. The matchup was ugly. Rine enjoyed the problem. He spread notes across a study table: Geodude — likely Level 12–14. Defense Curl. Rock Throw. Rollout possible. Onix — likely Level 14–16. Bind. Screech.

Rock Tomb. Ground technique probable. Brock — patient. Builds information. Punishes obvious line. Morrow drew a skull beside Onix.

"Useful." Veyra placed one paw over the Electric column.

"Yes. No lightning." Gold flashed in protest.

"Ground typing does not negotiate." The challenge rules prohibited outside tactical coaching once the match began, but preparation with Gym staff was encouraged. Brock did not hide species-level information. He only refused to confirm his selected roster and moves.

"A challenger should understand common first-badge standards," he said.

"Surprise is not the skill being tested."

"Then it is Geodude and Onix."

"I did not say that."

"You didn't need to." Brock's gaze lingered on him.

"Modern knowledge?" Rine's skin tightened. Vale had noticed. Brock had now chosen the same phrase without knowing its weight.

"Something like that." Brock did not press.

"Knowledge becomes dangerous when you mistake probability for certainty." He assigned Tessa to build three practice combinations. The first used Niko and Pebble. Geodude's Rock Throw forced Morrow to evade while maintaining Night Shade. Morrow could shape the technique strongly or move quickly, not both. Every dodge distorted the spectral image.

"Stop rebuilding from nothing," Rine said.

"Keep the core shape." Morrow reduced Night Shade to a jaw no larger than his own body. Pebble threw. Morrow moved. The jaw stretched but survived. On the third pass, it struck. Pebble rolled backward and cheered for the attack that hit him. Niko objected to his partner's priorities. The second exercise used an apprentice's Onix at Level Twenty. The Pokémon was too strong for direct practice, so it moved at quarter speed and wore padded segments. Veyra learned to target joints rather than the thickest stone.

Her first Bite found only rock armor. Onix flexed. She lost her grip and fell.

"Between segments," Tessa said. Veyra circled. Onix used a slow Bind. Its body curved around her without closing fully. Veyra's old response was to discharge electricity. Useless here.

"Roar forward," Rine said. Her sound struck the Onix's head. The pressure did not force a Pokémon four times her size to flee, but it interrupted alignment. One gap opened. Veyra escaped through it. Roar mastery: Novice, 8% Directional control developing The third exercise was switching. Tessa allowed only two seconds between recall and release. Rine practiced ball placement until his wrists hurt. Morrow entered high to avoid ground-level attacks.

Veyra entered moving, never standing where the previous Pokémon had been. They failed repeatedly. One release placed Veyra backward. Another put Morrow directly into a training pillar. Gastly passed through it and blamed Rine anyway. By evening, their safe exchange took two-point-three seconds. Not fast enough.

"Again," Rine said. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Veyra lay down. Morrow displayed the rest schedule. Rine looked at both.

"Right." He ended training. That choice had become easier. The challenge fee consumed nearly half his Guild earnings. Rine paid without reaching for Rocket solutions. Brock's Gym waived medical staffing costs for provisional challengers but not registration, arena operation, or League recording. The receipt joined the one from Mt. Moon. Proof that ordinary dreams generated paperwork. The following morning, Rine watched another first-badge challenger. Selene Ward was fifteen and traveled with a Bulbasaur.

She entered smiling, greeted Brock, and defeated his Geodude with Vine Whip in less than a minute. Onix lasted longer. Leech Seed drained its stamina while Vine Whip exploited fourfold weakness. Selene won without either Pokémon entering medical danger. Brock awarded the Boulder Badge. The gallery applauded. Rine felt envy. Not hatred. Not resentment toward Selene. The bitter recognition that her path matched the old games more closely than his ever would. Selene found him afterward.

"You're tomorrow's challenger."

"Day after."

"What's your Water or Grass type?"

"I don't have one." She looked at Veyra and Morrow.

"Oh." The single syllable contained an entire prognosis.

"You could catch an Oddish outside Cerulean," she offered.

"Or borrow one."

"Borrowed partners aren't permitted on my provisional conditions."

"Then catch one." Rine could. His restriction had lifted. An Oddish would give him a clean tactical answer.

"Not for one badge." Selene frowned.

"Why not?"

"Because it would still be with me afterward." She looked down at Bulbasaur. The idea of capture solely for coverage had never troubled her. It did now, at least enough to consider.

"That makes the battle harder," she said.

"Yes."

"Good luck." She meant it. An hour later, Selene found him in the public practice court.

"Bulbasaur wants to help," she said. The Grass-type stood beside her with his head raised. Rine suspected Selene wanted the rematch with her own assumptions as much as Bulbasaur wanted exercise. They agreed to a five-minute control drill—no direct elemental strikes, no win condition, immediate stop on distress. Bulbasaur would protect three marked stones. Veyra and Morrow had to touch all three. On paper, Bulbasaur was the answer Rine lacked. On the field, he was a living opponent with preferences.

He seeded the center lane with Leech Seed, then used Vine Whip to pull one marker behind cover. Morrow's Levitate avoided the seeds, but a leaf snapped through his outer gas and redirected him. Veyra circled wide. Bulbasaur smelled the heat of her Fire core and shifted his body between her and the nearest stone before she committed.

"He reads intention," Rine said. Selene smiled.

"He reads shoulders." Veyra feinted toward the marker. Bulbasaur's vines moved. Morrow slipped beneath them and touched the opposite stone. One. Bulbasaur answered with Sweet Scent. The practice court filled with a warm, heavy fragrance. It did no damage, but Veyra's concentration softened and Morrow's outline became easier to track where the particles clung to his gas. Rine changed the objective.

"Stop chasing stones. Make him move them." Morrow threatened the left marker with three illusions. Veyra used a narrow Roar against the right. Bulbasaur protected both by withdrawing the center vines. That opened the middle. Veyra touched it. Two. Time expired before they reached the third. Bulbasaur had won a game designed around defending terrain, yet he finished panting. Veyra's current remained stable. Morrow had learned that harmless powder could reveal his core as effectively as sand.

Selene knelt to offer Bulbasaur water.

"Type advantage didn't solve that."

"It rarely does here."

"But it helps."

"Also true." Rine thanked Bulbasaur directly. The Pokémon accepted the praise, then tapped Veyra's nose with one vine and retreated before she could bite it. Selene laughed. So did Rine. There were no easy matchups. There were only advantages entrusted to someone capable of using them. That afternoon, Veyra reached Level Fourteen during a controlled endurance circuit. No burst of light announced it. Her body completed an adaptation accumulating over days.

Level: 14 Mutation Stability: 66% Current Potential: Blue — stable Roar: Novice, 11% Bite: Proficient, 18% Morrow remained Level Twelve. His medium-slow growth rate and recovery limited progress. Rine refused to grind wild encounters for numbers. Instead they sharpened what he knew. Night Shade. Mean Look. Hypnosis. Payback. Movement. Five techniques before accounting for Lick and Confuse Ray. The old four-move limit had never existed in this world.

Mental load, physical compatibility, and practice determined how many techniques remained usable under pressure. Knowing a move's shape did not mean mastering it. On the final evening before the challenge, Lyra arrived. Rine met her outside the Gym.

"Sabrina assigned you another convenient inspection?"

"No."

"Iron Talon case?"

"No."

"Then why are you here?" Lyra looked offended.

"You have your first Gym battle." The answer struck harder than it should have. She had come because it mattered to him. No mission. No investigation. No leverage.

"Thank you," Rine said. Gastly—Morrow, he corrected internally—appeared above them with fireworks.

"He has a name," Rine said.

"Finally." Morrow wrote it across the Gym wall in violet light. Lyra bowed.

"A pleasure to formally meet you, Morrow." He crowned her. Veyra accepted Lyra into the group with one quiet call. Dinner became an unofficial strategy council. Niko arranged bread rolls into an Onix and used two peas to represent Veyra and Morrow. His opening proposal required Morrow to possess the arena floor, Veyra to run through Onix's mouth, and Brock to forget every rule governing a first-badge match.

"Elegant," Lyra said.

"Thank you."

"Impossible." Niko removed the bread Onix's head and ate it. Lyra turned to Rine.

"What do you actually expect?"

"Brock will test whether I rely on typing information more than observation. He knows I expect Rock and Ground. He will make the obvious answer incomplete."

"And your answer?"

"Morrow controls tempo. Veyra targets joints. We switch before either is trapped." Veyra stared at him on the final sentence.

"Before," he repeated. She accepted that provisionally. After dinner, Lyra helped him inspect the balls and medical cards. She did not offer battle commands. Her experience with Psychic teams would have encouraged solutions his partners could not imitate. Instead, she asked what each one feared.

"Morrow fears dispersal he cannot reverse," Rine said.

"Veyra fears restraint and losing control of her Electric core."

"What do you fear?" He almost answered failure.

"Wanting the badge more than I want them safe." Lyra closed the case.

"Then remember you named the fear before entering." At the dormitory door, she touched two fingers to his wrist. Not a kiss. Not a promise. A pulse check that lingered after she found the beat.

"Sleep," she said. Rine obeyed. Before turning out the light, he placed both Poké Balls on the blanket rather than the desk.

"Tomorrow is optional," he told them. Veyra's ears angled forward.

"The challenge. Not training in general. We can withdraw before registration closes. No penalty beyond the fee." Morrow formed an image of the Boulder Badge, added fangs, and made it chase him around the room.

"That is not an answer." The illusion vanished. A complete circle appeared. Safe. Willing. Veyra gave one bark, then a second after a deliberate pause. Ready, but listening. Rine touched each ball without recalling either of them.

"If I stop hearing you, Tessa stops me. If the referee misses it, Brock stops me. If all of them fail, you leave the field. Winning does not outrank that." Morrow drew the surrender tab. Veyra placed one paw over it and looked at Rine until he understood. He covered her paw with his hand. The promise would be tested precisely because he meant it. Someone knocked softly. Niko stood in the corridor wearing sleep clothes and carrying a flat piece of shale painted grey and silver.

"It's a practice badge," he said.

"For visualization." The paint had run around one edge. BOULDR, without an e, crossed the back.

"You made this?"

"Pebble helped." Geodude fingerprints marked the wet paint. Rine accepted it with appropriate ceremony. Niko looked toward Veyra and Morrow.

"If you don't get the real one, I need that back."

"Why?"

"I only had one good flat rock." The condition prevented the gift from becoming pity. Rine promised to return it after the match, victorious or not. The challenge waited one day away. For that evening, Rine laughed enough to forget the scoreboard. That might have been the most useful preparation of all.