Jack stood across from me, his hi-vis vest standing out in the shade between hangars. He lowered his stance so he could better focus on the upcoming battle, preparing himself to shout out commands to the Pokémon he’d choose to use.

  From his shoulder, his Swoobat jumped down to land on the concrete between us, designating that space as our makeshift battlefield floor. The bat tried its best to look intimidating, but it struggled to do so given its sky-blue fluff and its pink, heart-shaped nose.

  “The rules for our match?” I asked. Due to Jack’s challenge, this was going to be an official World Coronation Series battle. Trainers tended to have casual Pokémon battles all the time, but when it came to earning points based on performance and moving up in the ranks, more discussion needed to happen before the battle, first.

  “We have a choice,” Jack answered, a confident smile on his face. “Official placement matches tend to be double battles—you choose four Pokémon from your team and battle with that set, using two of them at once. But less organized matches are allowed to be more flexible. As long as both trainers agree, we can shift the rules around to have one-on-one fights.”

  “Hm. A single battle? Works for me,” I replied, my tone light. “I only have three Pokémon on my team, anyway.”

  Despite the humor in my voice, Jack’s smile faltered. He flicked his eyes over to look me up and down in what could only be visible disbelief.

  “Kid, you entered a worldwide tournament with only half a team?”

  “Hey, there’s over six months left,” I said, replying with a shrug. “That’s plenty of time to catch and train a new Pokémon—and don’t call me a kid. I’ve been to college.”

  “...Graduated?”

  “Dropped out on a technicality.”

  After all, it was hard to keep attending classes when you suddenly found yourself in another world.

  Unfortunately, Jack didn’t look like he believed me.

  “Man, you sure you’re not a kid? I’m sorry, but you look like you’re twelve.”

  I felt one of my eyes twitch in response; my face might have been perfectly smooth, but that didn’t mean I was a child.

  “Rotom, help me out,” I said, speaking to where my watch crackled on my wrist. “I want to record this match, but my pack’s with the rest of the luggage. Mind sitting this one out? If you get your drone, we can tape this from above.”

  That faint feeling of static vanished from around my arm. A miniature streak of lightning zipped out of my watch and into the air at my side. There, a bolt-shaped arm of plasma pressed to the head of a tiny, orange lightbulb. Alongside a grin, Rotom responded to me with a salute and then flashed away to zig-zag toward where all the luggage was being pushed.

  Jack looked on with a raised eyebrow.

  “Seriously? You’re sending away a Pokémon just like that?”

  “Hey,” I said. “To beat you, I’ll only need two.”

  “Whatever!” Jack barked. “Just... send out your Pokémon!”

  “I will, but I need a moment.”

  Jack let out a growl at that, but there was nothing he could do. As much as he had lured me into a dark alley, he wasn’t going to randomly attack me, and I was going to participate in this battle—I was just waiting for Rotom to return before we could begin.

  It didn’t take long at all for my Pokémon to return, as Rotom reappeared with his ghostly body possessing a flying orange fan. Due to the amorphous electricity of his species, he could take over any electric device that he willed. His fan was a bright orange, battle-ready fan made standard for any Rotom to use in a fight. However, I had modified it to better serve our purposes. Now, it resembled a horizontal, orange disc with a bit of extra machinery attached to its top.

  Within his fan-drone, Rotom flew down to drop off a white tablet, which I easily caught in my hands. He then returned to hover high in the air, making sure all of the fan’s attachments pointed downwards. The tablet’s screen was already displaying a view of our temporary battlefield from above.

  “And since this is a World Coronation Series battle, we’ll need to submit a record of our match,” I pointed out.

  Jack grumbled, pulling out a thick smartwatch from his pocket. For all he had done to get the spacing of this battle set up just right, we had to walk to meet in the middle, where he tapped his device against mine.

  Both items beeped, signalling that a notice had been sent off.

  Now, Jack couldn’t pretend that this battle never happened if he ended up with a loss.

  Or, when he ends up with a loss, I thought to myself.

  “I’m ready,” I said as I returned to my previous position, placing the tablet under my arm and pulling a Pokéball from my pocket. “You said a one-on-one fight, so...”

  As I tossed the Pokéball into the air, the red-and-white sphere opened up to send out a flash of light. For this Pokémon, as much as I liked sticking to a theme, I possessed the same weakness as everyone else interested in technology:

  Anyone involved with electronics always had to have a cat.

  Within this concrete, alleyway field, the Pokéball’s light coalesced into a sleek, purple-furred feline. Standing at half my height, the cat crouched, its fur decorated in yellow spots and a singularly-colored stomach. The leopard’s ears pressed down in threat on his head, and his scythe-like tail flicked back and forth in preparation for this fight.

  “A Liepard,” Jack named blandly, casually sending a glance to the screen of his watch as tournament officials confirmed the existence of our match. “Makes sense to choose a Dark-type Pokémon against a Psychic-type, but immunity isn’t worth using a species from Route 1!”

  The jab was pretty blatant; Route 1 was where the weakest Pokémon in a region could usually be found.

  With Jack’s taunt, I could see Liepard narrow his green eyes out of indignation. I knew my Pokémon, and I knew he had worked hard to surpass any expectation of weakness. However, here, he didn’t bother to hiss or try to respond.

  Against a jerk like Jack, Liepard didn’t need to do anything. It was better to personally prove just how wrong Jack was than to waste his time with any useless retorts.

  “Just so you know, one of the strongest trainers in Unova uses a Liepard,” I said idly, rocking back and forth on my feet. “You know you just implied that the ace Pokémon of one of Unova’s Elite Four is weak, right?”

  Jack ignored me—he was already annoyed, and he just wanted this battle to get started. As both of our Pokémon were out on this field, he didn’t bother with any countdown and just dramatically threw his arm out to the side to issue a command.

  “Swoobat!” he shouted. “Psychic-type moves aren’t gonna work, so hit it with an Air Cutter!”

  As our battle began, a single flap of Swoobat’s bat-like wings saw it shoot into the sky, and that continued flapping went on to churn the air. Tiny tornadoes formed in front of the flying Pokémon, and the spiraling wind broke apart to hurtle downwards, taking the form of white, crescent blades.

  “Encore. Hone Claws. Night Slash,” I spoke, watching the attack sail toward Liepard.

  I gave three commands for three moves; I knew I didn’t need to say anything more than that.

  Swoobat’s Air Cutter chipped the concrete as Liepard lunged to the side to dodge. He landed on his paws, back arched, and finally let out a hiss at his opponent, but this noise wasn’t aggressive. Rather, it was tinged with praise.

  The sound grew Swoobat’s confidence, causing the bat to fall victim to Liepard’s Encore. Thanks to that move, there was no need to change tactics; Liepard had goaded Swoobat into repeatedly using the same attack.

  Liepard proceeded to circle Swoobat from below, bursting into a dash. Jack tried to shout for an Assurance, but Swoobat ignored him, releasing Air Cutter after Air Cutter that Liepard easily outpaced.

  As he ran, his claws glowed, and it took him little effort to channel energy into his nails to enhance his next attack with Hone Claws. Once he reached the other side of the alley, he jumped up to brace himself on a hangar wall, and dust from the bricks fell to the ground when he flipped over one last Air Cutter sent his way.

  From there, Liepard sailed right toward his foe.

  Against Liepard’s attack, Swoobat had no answer; Encore had limited its options. No matter what Jack shouted, Liepard had already sealed the outcome of this battle when he used his first move.

  His claws swept right through Swoobat, landing a devastating slash colored with the same darkness as night itself.

  That single swipe took less than a moment, and Liepard touched down back on the earth without even the slightest noise. He sat, beginning to confidently lick a paw.

  Eyes spinning in an unconscious daze, the Swoobat hit the earth behind him.

  “That’s Liepard’s win,” I said. “Swoobat fainted.”

  Casually, the big cat sent Jack a smirk.

  “You—!” Jack ran a hand down his face, gritting his teeth, but he breathed out in an attempt to get himself to calm down. “Gah. You weren’t kidding. You’re a lot stronger than you look.”

  He pulled out Swoobat’s Pokéball to recall the bat in a flash of red light. With his first Pokémon having disappeared from the field, he had plenty of space to send out his next choice for this battle.

  However, he didn’t release his next team member just yet.

  “How strong are you?” he asked, looking me in the eye.

  “I’ve been a trainer for about a year, but I never bothered to take on any Gyms or enter any tournaments,” I said, answering truthfully. “We mostly trained through exploration and getting into a bunch of life-or-death fights. But we’ve still fought plenty of other trainers. We’ve had our share of tough battles. Except, our experience hasn’t come through wanting to get stronger. Rather, to do what we wanted to do, we’ve needed to get stronger.”

  I could see Jack frowning as I spoke; my experiences stood at odds with almost every other trainer out there. Prospective trainers usually went on a “Pokémon journey” to build their team, traveling through a region to take on its Pokémon Gyms and defeat Gym Leaders in fights.

  Usually, defeating a Gym Leader would earn a trainer a Gym Badge, which served as physical proof of that trainer’s victory. Stating the number of earned Gym Badges was an easy way for a trainer to represent their strength, but I didn’t have any of that. I only had me and my team.

  Jack didn’t seem to understand. He watched me, continuing to frown.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “But why?” he asked. “Why bother training like that?”

  “Because I want to see the world, and because I want to see it my way rather than follow an expected path,” I answered. “There’s no point in following someone else’s footsteps when you can just make your own, and it’s more exciting to not know where you’re going, as well.”

  “But you’re... still entering this tournament?” Jack said.

  I smiled, but it was a mixed smile. I was here for so many reasons. Yes, I had come here to compete, but I couldn’t claim it was entirely my decision.

  Still, I planned to reach the top. I planned to gather the strength needed to see the entire world the way I wanted to see it. There were so many restricted areas out there that the people in charge didn’t let trainers visit, and to see them myself, I would need to prove that my team and I had the strength and reliability to be trusted with access.

  At least, that was what I told people when asked what motivated me.

  Though I had been “encouraged” to enter the World Coronation Series, I planned to win it no matter what and on my own terms. Placing first would require my team and me to reach a level of strength that few other trainers could ever reach.

  And we needed that strength. It was the only way we’d be able to defeat the one trainer we so desperately needed to beat.

  “I guess that’s an answer,” came a grumble from Jack.

  I simply continued to smile as he released his next Pokémon.

  Where Swoobat might have been considered “cute,” this Pokémon looked grotesque and grey with muscles that throbbed with bulging, pink veins. A bright red nose sat front and center on the Pokémon’s face, and the sheer strength that this creature wielded was on full display due to the thick, metal beam that it carried in its hands.

  “A Gurdurr, huh?” I said, naming the species. “So you’re using a Fighting type to have the advantage over my Dark type, but I have a question.”

  “What?” Jack all but snapped.

  “Don’t you think it’s a bit stereotypical to be a construction worker battling alongside a Gurdurr?”

  “Gurdurr are used by construction workers for a reason!” Jack shouted, his face turning red. “I’d like to see you carry a thousand pounds of metal at once!”

  “...You know what? Fair point.”

  Looking over the Gurdurr standing on the field, I knew Liepard could take it on. Night Slash wasn’t his only move—given his weakness to the Fighting type, we had made sure he had a counter—but as much as I was sure he’d win, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to drag this out.

  “Second question,” I asked next, “how many Pokémon do you have left on your team?”

  “Two after this. Got me four Pokémon total.”

  “I see,” I said. “And how many Gym Badges?”

  Jack looked more than willing to brag.

  “Me and my team? When we traveled on our journey, I managed to earn almost six!” he shouted.

  Proudly, he thumped his chest.

  So, he earned almost six. Not actually six. Gyms get more difficult the more you manage to defeat, and he only managed to win against five.

  “Alright.” With that reveal, I confirmed my decision. “Then, we’re gonna speedrun the rest of this fight.”

  “What?”

  Jack looked visibly ticked off.

  I gestured for Liepard to pull back—rather than returning him, I recalled him to permanently remove him from the battle. I planned to use my final team member to sweep to the end, and if Jack somehow managed to win against them, then there was nothing Liepard or Rotom could have done, anyway.

  A vein on Jack’s head throbbed almost as much as one of his Gurdurr’s as he watched Liepard casually walk off the field.

  Once the feline was off and sitting at my side, I didn’t wait; I pulled out one final Pokéball and tossed it forward.

  “I want you to know that this is my strongest team member,” I said to Jack. “Between everyone with me, I can solidly say that this Pokémon is my ace.”

  When I first entered this world, I had woken up in a cave. It had been a wondrous cave filled with strange species and towering, glowing crystals, but it hadn’t been a place I had the personal skill to leave.

  So, I asked for help.

  And then, that help decided to stick around.

  My strongest team member, my closest companion, and my very best friend appeared on the battlefield, coalescing from a flash of light that extended out of their ball.

  A second of silence passed.

  “...The heck is that?” Jack asked.

  “What? They’re not familiar?”

  “Look, kid, I know Pokémon, but I’ve never seen any species that looks like that!”

  The Pokémon I released carried the traits of the ever-famous Gardevoir, but they also carried plenty of elements from that evolutionary line’s alternative final form, Gallade. My Pokémon stood on two legs, wore a dress-like robe that protected their back half, possessed a helmet of green hair, and even had a large spike coming out of their head past that.

  However, Gardevoir and Gallade were fleshy, biological Pokémon, and the Pokémon I had just released was made completely out of metal. Their entire body was robotic, looking as if they were made out of white aluminium, and their eyes glowed a dark, neon pink.

  Their very form was a threat in and of itself; from the bend in my Pokémon’s arms, crystalline blades of that same pink extended out. However, those blades did not stay in place. By slamming their fists together, my Pokémon caused them to pop out. However, those crystal edges telescoped out to connect, and by the end of it, they had formed a weapon.

  Taking up a fighting stance, my Pokémon readied themself to fight, wielding a dual-sided polearm that they held in one hand.

  “This is Iron Valiant,” I said to Jack. “I call them ‘Valiant’ for short.”

  Jack was left momentarily speechless before a scowl overtook his face.

  “Doesn’t matter what kind of Pokémon you send out!” he snapped. “Gurdurr and I are still gonna win—use Hammer Arm!”

  The arms of Jack’s Pokémon visibly inflated. With rippling muscles, the Gurdurr charged, bringing its metal beam back above its head to prepare a powerful swing.

  Valiant, meanwhile, just crouched to bring their stance lower toward the ground, readying their sharpened polearm in one hand. Without me needing to say anything, Valiant casually waited as the Gurdurr crossed the field.

  Then, right when Jack’s Pokémon arrived, I spoke a single command.

  “Dazzling Gleam.”

  Almost in an instant, Valiant moved with such speed that it was like they disappeared just to reappear right behind the Gurdurr. The Gurdurr was nowhere near as quick enough to respond in time, and it had already started to bring its metal beam down, locking itself in place due to the momentum of its weapon.

  That meant Valiant had free rein to swing, and the blade of their polearm slammed right into Gurdurr’s lower back. However, that impact was not their attack; rather, the crystal edge of their weapon exploded with pink, searing into the Fighting type, and blasting the Gurdurr far away to skid over the concrete.

  It quickly came to a stop, completely unconscious.

  “Bisharp!” Jack shouted next, not hesitating to recall his fainted Pokémon and send out his third team member.

  Bisharp was not robotic, but its arms were a pair of metal blades that almost matched Valiant’s. However, Jack had made a horrible mistake by sending it out.

  “Poor choice,” I said. “Bisharp is a Steel and Dark type, and Valiant is Fairy and Fighting."

  Jack’s eyes widened; due to type effectiveness, a single Fighting-type move from my Pokémon would deal four times damage against his Bisharp.

  “Get back!” he shouted quickly.

  Unfortunately for him, Valiant was already charging.

  Jack’s Bisharp brought up its bladed arms in an attempt to deflect, but nothing like that was ever going to work against a fighter as skilled as Valiant. Before the Bisharp could even process what was going on, Valiant was right there, positioned as close as possible to forsake all forms of defense. That raw offense caused their crystalline blade to gain an orange-red hue from the Fighting-type energy channeled into it for this move, and Jack’s Pokémon was struck.

  A visible groove was carved into the Bisharp’s chest, and the Pokémon immediately collapsed.

  “One Pokémon left,” I said as Jack let out a pained cry.

  Truly snarling at this point, Jack pulled his fainted Bisharp back into its Pokéball. As rough as its injury looked, it was nothing that a Pokémon Center wouldn’t be able to treat and fix—without a cost, most importantly. For multiple reasons, the Pokémon world’s medicine was truly impressive.

  “...Fine, then. I have a team of four, but mine’s just as unbalanced as yours,” Jack said, speaking with an acid to his words as he retrieved a new Pokéball. “My last Pokémon is also my ace! They’re my strongest. So it doesn't matter how powerful your ‘Iron Valiant’ is—I still have faith that my Pokémon can win!”

  “Good.” Even now, I found myself smiling. “I’ve been enjoying our battle so far. Don’t let us down.”

  Staring at his last Pokéball, Jack sent it a nod of his head, and he drew his arm back just to throw the sphere forward. In a flash of light, a brand new Pokémon appeared in the air above the field. This one lacked wings like Jack’s Swoobat, but it hovered due to a strong, telekinetic force.

  “Reuniclus!” Jack named.

  This was a creature that resembled a cell, a developed zygote with a small creature inside a green membrane. A transparent, jelly-like substance let its interior be visible, and I could see the fragmented bones that supported the Reuniclus’s massive pair of arms.

  “Reuniclus, you know what to do!” Jack shouted, confidence returning to his voice. “Take it out with Hammer Arm! This guy pulled all his other Pokémon out of the fight! We only need to beat this thing, and then we’ll win!”

  Almost alongside his shout, his Pokémon let out a piercing cry as it used its telekinesis to fling itself forward.

  Meanwhile, my own command was much simpler.

  “Valiant, use Fury Cutter,” I said.

  Equidistant between the two trainers here, the pair of Pokémon collided at the exact center of this makeshift field.

  Despite telekinesis being its specialty, Jack’s Reuniclus didn’t bother to utilize any Psychic-type moves. Instead, it swung its arms with wild abandon, and the sheer power it wielded meant it actually put up a decent fight.

  But Fury Cutter was not a strong move.

  In this clash, Valiant’s blade turned an off-yellow that hinted at the Bug-type energy being channeled through it. They swung it as hard as they could, but all it managed to do was hit one of Reuniculus’s swinging arms. The attempt to strike failed, but both weapon and limb were bounced back.

  Then, that clash happened again.

  And again.

  And again.

  Valiant used both hands to wield their weapon, spinning and bouncing it to hit and match every possible blow while Reuniclus swung its arms to do the same. At first, Reuniclus’s Hammer Arm onslaught saw Valiant struggle with their Fury Cutter defense, but every bounce backwards was translated into a building momentum. Every use of Fury Cutter saw its power build.

  Like a growing swarm of insects, Fury Cutter became that much more biting. A strength built behind Valiant’s blows.

  It might have started weak, but Valiant was skilled, and Fury Cutter was special. It might be the weakest move Valiant had access to, but the more a Pokémon repeatedly used it, the more powerful Fury Cutter would become.

  “R-Reuniclus!” Jack suddenly shouted when Reuniclus’s arm was knocked back significantly further than before. He’d seemed to realize just what was going on. “Throw it away with a Psychic! Quick!”

  Unfortunately, he’d picked up on Valiant’s building momentum far too late. It was a good choice for him to try to break the ongoing chain, but Valiant had already gathered the power needed to secure us this win.

  “Strike,” I commanded.

  Reuniclus pulled back its arms to focus its attention, and its entire body gained a blue, Psychic-type glow.

  That same glow formed around Valiant, and space itself almost threatened to collapse. However, rather than let themself be thrown back so easily, Valiant pushed through for a single jab.

  And that jab was what ended this match.

  Filled with Bug-type energy, Valiant’s blade ate right through Reuniclus’s telekinetic focus. The blue glow vanished from around them as their blade stabbed right at Reuniclus’s chest. Upon landing that strike, the floating, cell-like Pokémon gained a look of utter shock. Its spongy exterior bent inwards from the blow, and though not truly pierced, Bug-type energy continued inwards, creeping through and eating away at the vitality contained within.

  Reuniclus let out a horrible cry—I couldn’t imagine that this was comfortable, and the Bug-type move was super effective against a Psychic-type Pokémon like it. Squirming from the damage, the Reuniclus dropped from the air just to hit the ground. There, it began to roll, but nothing else needed to be done.

  Before too long, Reuniclus was exhausted, fainted, and unable to get up.

  In short, for our very first battle within Unova, we had won.

  Later, I sat in a small Mistralton café with my team. One comfortable fact about trainer battles was that the loser was expected to pay the winner. Prize money was how many trainers supported themselves, but when the average person had a rough 50-50 win-lose ratio, winnings and losses tended to balance out. Truthfully, most trainers needed to earn funds through taking on odd jobs with their Pokémon or accepting money from a sponsor.

  My sponsor was the only reason I’d been able to afford all my neat electronics. And, in all honesty, that need for money was likely why a trainer like Jack was working for a construction company.

  But even with that spare bit of extra cash, my team and I tended to quickly burn through every dollar we’d get. Thankfully, it wasn’t often that we lost our matches, especially when challenged by a trainer far under our level—but I wouldn’t have called Jack weak. We were just stronger. After all, when it came to battling, my entire life philosophy revolved around the same idea behind how I had played through the Pokémon games:

  Power begot freedom.

  Strategy wasn’t as important if you massively outleveled your opponents. Battles were made simple when you could overwhelm and then overcome.

  “It’s nice to start with this bit of extra cash,” I said to my team as we reclined and relaxed. “I hope this is a good way to begin our time in Unova—and consider this my apology for needing to keep you in your Pokéballs for the entire flight here.”

  My team made noises of approval around me. All of them were easily bribed with food. Liepard lapped at a saucer of milk and cream, and Rotom was letting the plasma of his arms soak in a cup full of bright green battery acid. Valiant, meanwhile, didn’t technically need to eat—their robotic body meant they could passively gather energy from the environment around them. However, just because they didn’t need to eat didn’t mean they didn’t have a mouth.

  Due to their eyes being a display on a screen rather than actual, physical eyes, Valiant’s expression did not change. They were awake and on high alert, serving as a guard as they always tended to do, but they were still occasionally bringing up tiny spoonfuls of berry sorbet.

  “While I do want us to relax, I kind of need to talk about our plans,” I said to everyone, sitting up. “Unlike our time in Paldea, we aren’t exactly here just to casually explore. We were ‘encouraged’ to participate for a reason—there’s a lot riding on the World Coronation Series. If you remember, there's going to be a tournament between everyone in the Master Rank at the end of the year, and that means the Champions, the toughest trainers in the world, are probably going to be the ones to compete.”

  Every region had a Champion, and the World Coronation Series was the World Coronation Series for a reason. The toughest trainers around the entire world were involved in ranking up to try to reach that tournament, and just about everyone from every walk of life would be fighting to see how high they could place.

  But I needed it to be me who stood at the top alongside all of those other, impossibly strong trainers. If my team and I could win this tournament, then we could beat anyone. It didn’t matter who we faced; my team would be able to win.

  “Except... we might have a problem,” I continued, the volume of my voice lowering so much. “As much as I hate to say it, we currently don’t have much of a chance of making it to the top.”

  Liepard looked up from his bowl of milk out of annoyance, an ear flicking to the side. Not looking pleased, he let out a sharp “mrow,” but he didn’t do anything more than that.

  Unfortunately, I could tell that he knew I was right. Valiant’s strength surpassed even his own, and there had been times in which Valiant had lost in the past.

  “We need to get stronger,” I said to everyone, and the full attention of my Pokémon was on me. “That means we need to train and expand our team. Competing in the Series itself is a decent way to get experience, but climbing up the ranks will eventually see us hit a wall that we won’t be able to beat.”

  Looking over all of my Pokémon here, I eventually locked eyes with the smallest being at this table.

  Rotom was only about as big as my palm.

  “Rotom, if you will?” I asked.

  With a grin, he disappeared from his spot above his cup just to zap himself into my backpack. However, calling it just a “backpack” was a bit of a misnomer given how it was half the size of my body.

  A bit of rustling came from within that canvas monstrosity until Rotom came back out, looking a bit different.

  A white tablet shot onto the table with Rotom’s smiling expression prominent on its screen.

  “The map, please,” I asked.

  Using his electronic control, he changed the display to show a topological view of Unova.

  “Right now, we’re here, all the way on the western edge of the region. But our target is here, way closer to the region’s eastern side,” I said, making sure to tap both locations. “We have six months until that Master Rank tournament comes up, and that means we have six months to rank up and train. As much as I want to travel, we need to get stronger sooner rather than later—So you see this whole chunk?”

  I circled most of northern Unova, sending my team a grin as I paused for dramatic effect.

  “We’re skipping it,” I said outright. “I already have bus tickets purchased for tomorrow. Mainly, we need to head somewhere with strong Pokémon that we can train against and catch, so that means our first goal is to head straight to Lacunosa Town.”

  Liepard’s ears perked up at the familiar name.

  “Specifically, we’re heading to this area just to the north of it,” I said, tapping one last location. “It’s going to be freezing, difficult, and full of tough Pokémon. In other words, it’s the perfect location to train.

  “So, ready yourselves, everyone,” I continued. “Together, we’re going to take on Unova’s Giant Chasm. There, we’ll practice and expand our team, but most importantly, we’re going to face a certain challenge while we’re there. And believe me, I plan for us to win.”

  Flying drones within a major airport is extremely illegal. However, the rules get blurrier when that drone is technically a Pokémon.

  Schedule-wise, a chapter will be posted every weekday until the end of next week, save for next Thursday, which is Thanksgiving. Once next Friday’s chapter is out, I’ll be posting a chapter twice a week on Wednesdays and Fridays.

  I will see you tomorrow!

  Pokémon mentioned in this chapter:

  Bisharp

  Nick’s Team:

  Iron Valiant