A month passed in a blur of training, theory, and routines that slowly shifted into instinct. Days bled into each other, and before I realized it, time had passed.
Like a lot...
I woke up early now. It wasn't discipline, not entirely more like necessity. Giovanni had called it a "trial," a vague promise of something to come. I didn't ask for clarification.
It was coming.
But I was ready.
This was an opportunity to train though, so I did a lot of endurance runs and stretches. After asking for some Pokemon and normal gym equipment. It was all set up for future use.
Weights for myself which I'm still young. So just normal body weight exercises and stamina training was enough. I'm young and didn't need to rush anything.
While Kakuna now had some macho braces to increase the weight on his body and to put more weight on the wings. Some targets as well to stab into and increase sharpness.
Every morning, after brushing Kakuna, its shell would get duller in colour.
Which was a bit scary.
Other than that.
I'd head straight for the study or the courtyard and study. Not just books. Not just data. I studied them. The grunts. Their Pokémon. Their movements. Their tells.
I learned how to read battles like language. A flicker in a Weavile's claw. A twitch in an Arbok's tail before a strike. Anticipation, intent, timing.
People in general in the anime just were plain stupid at move selection.
Knowledge was my greatest weapon.
And being a transmigrator?
It was cheating.
Not in the literal sense I still had to train, still had to command, still had to earn every victory. But I had knowledge no one else did. I knew that Salamence was a physical monster. That Gardevoir leaned special. That a Garchomp wasn't just powerful it was fast. A monster that outpaced most things on the field and hit like a truck.
You don't beat that with brute force.
You beat it by keeping your distance, stalling with speed or walls, maybe forcing a misstep. Throw in a Fairy-type in its path with area-of-effect attacks.
Not every trainer knew what each Pokemon did.
Besides me.
I will never go into a battle clueless.
Moreover, I have read the rules.
Yes, there are rules in official battles. In just battles outside with poachers? Not so much.
No attacking during an evolution that was illegal. No faking a faint only to counter-strike Pokémon.
Pretty simple really.
You had to know your Pokémon. Know what it could take, and what it couldn't. Whether it was a special or physical attacker. Whether you should lean into that strength or train the weakness.
I could teach Beedrill to use its speed to deliver piercing stabs or make it pivot in the air and use wide sweeps with [Poison Jab].
By mid-month, Kakuna was stirring more often. A faint tremble in his shell some nights. A faint glow. It was close.
Clara noticed too.
"You've done well with him," she said one morning, observing as I cleaned Kakuna's outer shell with a special salve.
"He's almost ready," I muttered, not taking my eyes off the bug.
"We should take her to the Viridian Pokémon Center," Clara said. "Just in case."
It was my first time visiting a real centre in this world.
Plus leaving the mansion.
Despite the Rocket's presence in Viridian City, the centre looked normal. Warm lights. Neutral colours. A pink-haired Nurse Joy greeted us with a smile that didn't quite mask her curiosity when she noticed Kakuna.
She took the Poké Ball, ran a few scans, and then tilted her head.
"Well, someone's been spoiled," she said, half-teasing. "This is one of the healthiest Kakuna I've ever seen."
I didn't smile, but my chest swelled just a little.
"He'll evolve soon. Maybe a few days. Whatever you're doing, keep doing it."
Thankfully we didn't return empty-handed either way.
...
[PokeCenter - Profile]
Species: Kakuna
CurrentState: Dormant & Extremely Healthy
Type: Bug/Poison
Ability: Run Away
Moves: Harden, Tackle (Locked), Poison Sting (Locked), String Shot (Locked)
...
He had his signature ability! A sure-fire way to get [Sniper] in the future which would increase damage on critical hits.
'This isn't the anime, every hit could be critical.' I thought with a troubling expression.
Clara who saw this just kept silent.
We shortly returned to the mansion before nightfall back with the guarded car.
That night, Kakuna glowed.
I watched, wide-eyed, as his shell cracked. It wasn't violent but with a soft, radiant shimmer. The outer shell split. Wings unfolded. His eyes burned with new life. The transformation was fast, but the presence it left behind lingered in the room like a pressure drop.
Pure silence as I watched with a wide smile.
Beedrill.
His stingers clicked once, twice.
Not aggressively, but as if testing their weight. He hovered. Landed. Turned to me.
And I knew.
He was itching for a battle.
While I was scared of letting him get hurt because you know, would a [Flamethrower] kill him? Being brave is facing my fears even while being scared as a wise dinosaur once said. I'll be battling in the future, why delay it?
The news quickly reached my father. Giovanni arrived that same night.
He didn't speak to me at dinner, but after, he summoned me to the study.
No guards this time.
He stood by the fireplace, holding a wine glass he didn't drink from.
"You've made progress."
Beedrill stood by my side, wings folded, watching him with wary poise.
Giovanni glanced his way. "Good colour and size, very healthy."
"Of course, he's my ace," I respond getting a raised eyebrow from the man.
"What you need is experience," he said, setting the glass down. "You have two years."
I blinked. "Until what?"
"When you're eight, you will join the Viridian Gym as a gym trainer. You'll battle under my name..."
My pulse quickened.
"You'll start with grunts. Then junior gym trainers. Eventually, my subordinates."
"Subordinates?"
He didn't clarify. "You will log every match. Win three hundred battles by age ten. Lose less than a hundred."
I swallowed. "And what then?"
"Win and find out. Do not disappoint me son" He simply states with an amused expression.
His words made me pause, that was the first time he called me son. Or any name that wasn't just describing me already.
He turned toward the window as if already done.
This gnawed at me staring into his back.
"Start tomorrow."
The next morning, I battled for the first time.
It wasn't a League battle. Just a spar. A test against a servant in the
Beedrill versus a Grunt's Machop.
"[String Shot] now!" I command.
With a burst, a white line escaped both of Beedrill's drills heading towards Machop. The grunt not wasting any time has his Machop run forward to close the gap.
The string hitting the Pokemon simply wasn't strong enough to hold it back. My eyes widen as he closes the distance.
"Machop [Low Kick]!"
"Beedrill, fly up then use [Fury Attack]"
The Machop now in front of Beedrill with a glowing leg, sweeped at it with the attack missing. Quick on its wings, the poison bee Pokemon was now before it.
*Pak-pak-pak!*
A quick three-hit combo landed cleanly. One to the knee, the other two to the body.
Machop felt the attacks, he couldn't dodge at all but was still holding up well.
"[Rock Smash]!"
With that simple command, Beedrill couldn't dodge as the glowing fist hit its head.
Straight up making the Pokemon's head shake.
'Oh shit.' I thought seeing my Pokemon looking holding its head perplexed.
Well... That was a critical hit.
I wasn't able to command Beedrill further as any words I spoke wouldn't work. Machop quickly took advantage and that was my first battle lost.
"Not bad with that opening young master," Clara says emotionlessly. Was she trying to comfort me?
With other servants and guards watching I spent most of my time battling them.
Losses kept on stacking.
Trying to hit and run? Beedrill's wings couldn't handle the stress after a while.
Using complex strategies? How will you say your instructions before the opposing Pokemon attack before you can finish, there's a golden balance.
I now understand why some people battle so straightforward, but I won't let that stop me from using strategies from earth.
It was like these battle were a forge and I was the sword.
Slowly getting moulded and adapting.
...
And just like that, two years pass.
Beedrill grew. Not just in strength, but in presence. Now at a terrifying 145cm, he was taller than me and at a size his average species could never compare to as they were just 100cm normally.
A menace he was.
Now everything was different.
Almost every grunt and servant in this house was beaten by me, besides five.
A supposed Rocket Captain I've heard from gossip, Clara, the two bodyguards at the gates and my father.
It was certainly an improvement.
'I need TM's.' I thought a little frustrated at my Ace's movepool.
Despite asking, my father never allowed me to gain anything such as that.
His explanation was for me to be more creative in battles which I had to admit worked.
Training equipment and high-quality food were the only things allowed, which in itself was extremely useful. But moves such as Defog, Aerial Ace, Brick Break, Facade and Roost would really help.
Over the two years, he has mainly spent his time with a macho brace and small weights for his wings. Plus the agility drills and training his thrust power, he becomes a monster.
It was literally a nightmare.
A fast-growing bug type training with body weights and weights for his wings.
"Young master, it's time to go." The familiar voice of Clara hits my ears.
We arrived at the Viridian Gym just past noon.
The town was quiet in that Kanto sort of way. Older buildings, trimmed hedges, dusty sidewalks where the League's influence hadn't quite drowned out the past. But the Gym was a different story.
It loomed like a fortress at the edge of the city. Steel-gray doors. Stone-carved statues of Nidoqueen and Nidoking flanking the stairs. Above the entrance, bold black letters read:
"VIRIDIAN CITY GYM – OFFICIAL LEAGUE SANCTIONED."
And underneath, a freshly hung banner in red:
"LIMITED CHALLENGE WINDOW OPEN — TRAINERS WITH 3+ BADGES MAY ENTER"
A crowd had gathered. Not massive, but enough.
Trainers read the new bulletin posted by the side gate, murmuring among themselves. Some wore the telltale vests of the League. Others were backpackers, wanderers with worn shoes and eager eyes.
"Yo, is that Giovanni?"
"No way, seriously? That's him, the Gym Leader?"
"He never shows up in public unless there's a challenge week. Who's the kid with him?"
My name wasn't said. But I felt the eyes. Their stares. Some speculative, some dismissive.
Good.
Let them wonder.
I wore a black Rocket-cut training jacket. Not the grunts' gear. No insignia. No emblem. But the material and tailoring made it obvious. I wasn't a civilian. Beedrill was still in its Pokeball as there was no need for my protection.
The strongest Kanto Gym Leader was next to me after all.
Giovanni didn't slow his pace as we walked. Unbothered by the ever-growing crowd.
The guards at the gate opened the doors as soon as they saw him. One gave me a curt nod.
"Welcome back, Boss. Young Master."
Inside, it was cooler. Dimmer. The halls were lined with metal tiles and training mats. Some sections had open arenas. Sparring rings.
He led me past the main floor to a chamber in the back. A training wing. A private gym. This was where I'd be stationed, for now.
"This wing's yours," he said simply, turning slightly. "No one comes in here unless I allow it. You already saw the main battling area where you fight."
There were automated feeders, a rest area, and a locker wall. And most importantly a ring. Size-regulated. Elevated. Scuffed from repeated battles. I could already picture Beedrill in it, wings thrumming, stingers gleaming.
Giovanni pointed toward the back room. "That's where we keep logs. Register your matches. Review footage. Start tomorrow. The first match will be against a Junior."
Then he paused. Looked at me.
"You look eager... make me proud," he says giving me a nod. After the years he's sort of reminding me of someone like Fugaku Uchiha. While not shown much in the show of Naruto, this is how I would imagine his personality.
Ya know just without the political prowess, business acumen and overall intelligence looking at the bigger picture...
I didn't respond. Just clenching Beedrill's Pokeball.
He turned and left, the echo of his boots sharp against the floor.
"Hmph you disappoint me," I say more in sarcasm for practice. My smug demeaning look stayed on my face.
Pretending to be a jerk will be fun.
Who said rage-baiting wasn't a strategy.
I picked up a few tricks here and there...
'Let's lean into the games Silver a bit more hehe.'