The sun was setting as Roy walked through the front doors of the Viridian City Pokémon Center. Tables were scattered randomly around the lobby with sofas pushed up against the walls. A couple dozen people sat making jovial conversation with each other. Judging by their attire, they were all Trainers. In addition to being hospitals, Pokémon Centers were ideal hangouts for Trainers to congregate, exchange information, and even act as places one could spend the night for free (but only if you were a registered Trainer).

    Roy walked across the pale yellow tile to the woman at the reception desk.

    “Welcome to Viridian Pokémon Center,” she said. “How may I help you?”

    Roy set Squirtle’s Poké Ball on the counter. “My Squirtle’s badly burned. Can you fix him up?”

    “Of course.” She took the Poké Ball from the counter and pressed a button on her desk. A door slid open behind her and out walked a Chansey. The pink echidna had an egg-shaped body with short stubby knobs for hands and feet that made it look like it would have an even harder time than Squirtle getting back up if it were to get knocked over. It had small, beady black eyes with a perpetual smile, and it carried an egg in its stomach pouch. There were what looked like three thin floppy ears on each side of its head. The Chansey took the Poké Ball from the receptionist, then returned to the back room.

    “Depending on how bad the damage is,” the receptionist said. “You should get your Squirtle back by tomorrow morning. You’re welcome to use any of the available beds upstairs for the night.”

    “Thank you.” Roy left and took a seat at one of the lone tables. He rubbed at his eyes, feeling stressed and discouraged with no motivation to log his embarrassment. His first official day as a Trainer and already he’d made a fool of himself. Even worse, he’d landed Squirtle in the Pokémon Center. Roy was certain all those years working under the famed Professor Oak would have given him an advantage. Yet all the knowledge in the world didn’t seem to compare to actual experience. Maybe Brayden was right. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for this.

    “Hey,” said a voice. Roy ignored it. “Hellooo,” it persisted. A group of two boys and a girl sat one table over. Judging by the six Poké Balls on each of their belts, they were Trainers too. Each of them appeared to be around Roy’s age. Perhaps a couple of years older. The one who spoke was a boy with thick, wavy blond hair and a suave smile. He smiled with his elbow resting on the chair’s back. He wore a light blue shirt–which he kept unbuttoned–with a white undershirt. The boy and girl sitting across from the blond boy appeared to be an item from how close they’d pushed their chairs together.

    “Yes?” Roy answered.

    “What’s gotcha so down? Let me guess, you get your ass beat by the Viridian Gym Leader?

    “No,” Roy said, looking away.

    “What then? Lose a large wager? Humiliatin’ defeat? Good catch get away?”

    All of the above. Roy sighed. This guy wasn’t going to leave him alone, was he? “What business of yours is it?”

    “Ooo. A lone wolf Trainer, I see.”

    “Oh, Layton, leave the boy alone,” the girl said. “He’s clearly not in the mood to be bothered.”

    The blond boy–apparently named Layton–just waved dismissively at her. He eyed Roy’s belt and seemed to notice Roy had no Poké Balls in addition to the one he’d given the receptionist. “Still just a rookie, aren’t you? Getting’ off to a rocky start?”

    Roy didn’t answer. The boy–ever persistent–moved over to Roy’s table. He pulled out a chair and spun it around, sitting in it backward, his arms resting across the seat’s back. “Let me give you some advice. You’ll fare much better livin’ the hard life of a Trainer with friends and connections.” He held out a hand. “Name’s Layton.”

    “Roy,” Roy said, taking his hand and noticing it was heavily calloused.

    Layton nodded toward the boy and girl he was sitting with. “These two are Travis and Alexa. We just came down from Pewter City on our way to the Indigo Plateau and thought we’d stop in Viridian for some R&R.”

    Roy looked up, meeting Layton’s eyes. “The Indigo Plateau?”

    “That’s right.” Still smiling, Layton pulled out a rectangular case and opened it, revealing eight polished Gym Badges. “The three of us each just got our final badge in Pewter. And as Trainers with a bit of experience, we like to help our fellow man.” He closed the case and stashed it away. “So. What’s your story?”

    Roy hesitated. Still unsure if this guy really wanted to help, or just rub his skill in Roy’s face. “I’m from Pallet Town. I just got Squirtle yesterday.”

    “Really? You make good time to be in Viridian already.”

    “I guess. Except I haven’t caught a single thing yet.”

    “Many Trainers take a while to make their first catch. Don’t let that getcha down. The Trainers that make it are the persistent ones.”

    “Maybe, but I don’t think even novices let their partners get so thoroughly trounced by an untrained wild Pokémon.”

    “A wild Pokémon sent you rushin’ here? Must’ve been a strong one.”

    Roy looked away, feeling himself flush with embarrassment. “You may not even believe me, but I came across a Shiny Pokémon earlier. I could’ve caught it, but instead, it made a fool out of me.”

    Layton broke out in laughter. Roy’s anger spiked. Was his disgrace that funny? So, this guy was here just to boost his ego then. “So that’s it,” Layton said. “Now I understand. You got trounced by Viridian’s own Shiny Ponyta.”

    Roy snapped back to attention. “You’ve seen it then?”

    “Oh, that Ponyta’s quite well known around these parts. Don’t feel bad. You’re not the first Trainer to be utterly disrespected by that thing. One of the reasons we stopped by Viridian was to take a stab at catchin’ a Shiny. She sure showed us up. You should feel honored. It’s become sort of a right of passage round these parts for new Trainers to get stomped by that Ponyta.”

    “Speak for yourself,” Travis said. “At least I gave her a bit of a challenge.”

    Roy perked up slightly. He didn’t feel so bad now, hearing that these three who had each earned eight badges had failed just as he had. Then his mind went back to his defeat at Brayden’s hands and his frown returned. Layton seemed to notice.

    “Tell you what.” Layton stood. “Meet us at the arena out back tomorrow mornin’ at seven, and we’ll see if we can’t teach you a thing or two.”

    Roy watched the three of them leave, wanting to say something but not sure what. Layton wanted to… teach him? Roy wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Why? They’d only just met him, and if Roy was being honest with himself, he’d been rather standoffish. The arena out back tomorrow morning at seven. Roy wondered if he should even show up. A part of him craved whatever secrets these Trainers could offer. Another part feared making a fool of himself in front of far more experienced Trainers.

    The arena out back. Tomorrow morning at seven.

 

***

 

Roy sat cross-legged on the ground, alone behind the Pokémon Center on the east side of the arena. About the size of a tennis court, the rectangular battlefield was mostly dirt and grass. A chalk outline of a Poké Ball was drawn in the center of the field and the arena was divided horizontally in half by a white line.

    It was 7:30.

    The provided rooms upstairs had been nothing more than two rows of bunk beds lined up like boot camp barracks. Roy had tried several and they were all equally uncomfortable. Roy didn’t expect much though. Pokémon Trainers were allowed to stay for free after all, and they were still preferable to throwing out his sleeping bag outside–though a part of him did enjoy sleeping under the stars. Pokémon Centers even offered complimentary breakfasts for Trainers.

    Squirtle’s treatment, on the other hand, had not been free. Fortunately, the burns weren’t too bad and it only cost him twenty-five dollars. Though Pokémon Centers had been known to charge far more depending on the required treatment. Considering all the things they offered free of charge, it was a fair deal.

    7:35. Roy still sat alone. Yes, this was exactly how he wanted to spend his Lunday morning. Where were they? Roy should’ve known it was too good to be true. Why would three Trainers who’d already earned eight badges waste their time tutoring some novice who’d only started a week ago? Oh well. Roy would just learn through practice and mistakes.

    Roy stood to leave, when the back doors of the center slid open and Layton strolled out, accompanied by Travis and Alexa. He held a half-eaten muffin in his hand. He raised both arms and stretched, bathing in the morning sunlight. “Gooood mornin’, Viridian!” Layton put his free hand on his hip and took a bite of the muffin. He looked around the field, then spotted Roy. “Ah,” he said with a full mouth. “There he is. See guys. Toldja he’d show. And here you were rushin’ me for nothin’, Alexa.”

    “Afraid you’ll have to get used to this,” Travis called out to Roy. “Punctuality isn’t one of his strong suits.”

    “It’s all these other strong suits Arceus gave me,” Layton said. “There just wasn’t room left over for punctuality.”

    “Or humility,” Alexa said.

    “Is negativity all you two ever focus on? You’re givin’ the kid a bad impression of us.” Layton approached Roy. “So’d they fix up your Squirtle?”

    “Yeah. He’s fine. That Ponyta burned him pretty badly yesterday, but he’s good as new now.”

    “That’s Pokémon Centers for you. You won’t find a better place to take your injured Pokémon.” Layton took a final bite of his muffin before crumpling the wrapper and tossing it into a trashcan roughly six meters away, making the shot. “Let’s start with some sparin’, dig?” Layton moved across the arena, grabbing a Poké Ball at his side, and doing an about-face. “Let’s see what you got.”

    Roy sent out Squirtle. Layton threw his own Poké Ball, releasing a Hitmonchan onto the field. The Fighting Pokémon had a humanoid shape with tan skin. It wore a light lavender tunic and shoes with a pair of red boxing gloves. It had five flat rectangular protrusions sticking upwards in an arced row on top of its head and its shoulders had what looked like shoulder pads, though they were clearly part of its body. “Hitmonchan!” it cried, shuffling on its feet and giving several rapid warmup punches at the air.

    “Don’t hold back now,” Layton said. “Come at me with all you got.” Roy did just that. He sent his Squirtle attacking with every move in its arsenal. Layton had his Hitmonchan mostly dodge or take the attacks with only occasional counters of its own to see how Roy and Squirtle reacted. Unlike Roy, Layton obviously was just trying to see how Roy and Squirtle battled rather than try to win, which Roy was grateful for. He didn’t doubt Layton’s Hitmonchan could KO Squirtle in a single punch if it wanted.

    The sparring went on for three minutes before Layton called back his Hitmonchan to take a break. The fighter retreated off the field with a leap backward, landing at Layton’s side. Squirtle plopped down on the ground, breathing heavily.

    “You only used Water Gun, Tackle, and Withdrawal,” Layton said. “Does your Squirtle know any other moves?”

    “No. Just those three.”

    “Ah. Well then, that’s the first thing we’ll fix.” Layton craned his neck back to Travis and Alexa standing behind him. “Travis. You’re up. Get out here.”

    “What’re we doing now?” Roy asked.

    “We’re gonna teach your Squirtle Skull Bash,” Layton said. Roy’s eyes widened slightly. That was an advanced move that required a lot of physical strength and resistance. Most Squirtle didn’t learn it until later.

    “Skull Bash?” Roy said in disbelief. “Already?”

    Layton shrugged. “Why not? Sure, you’re battlin’s a bit rough, but I’m seein’ a lot of potential. You lack experience, but are obviously knowledgeable in Pokémon and strategy. You do a lot of studyin’ before you set out?”

    “I worked under Professor Oak as an assistant for six years.”

    “Really!? Knowledgeable indeed then. Let’s see if your Squirtle can put the same intellect into learnin’ a new move.”

    Layton retreated off the field and Travis stepped up, Poké Ball in hand. He looked down at Roy’s Squirtle and smiled. “Ah, Squirtle. Boy, does that bring back memories.” Travis threw his Poké Ball, releasing the creature within.

    “Blaaaastoise,” the Pokémon bellowed in a bass voice.

    Roy’s eyes widened, whispering a, “Woah,” to himself. Blastoise was the third and final stage in Squirtle’s evolution line, and if Roy kept training, it’s what his Squirtle would become one day. It was similar to Squirtle in appearance, but with a much larger and bulkier body, standing over two meters tall. Its skin was a darker shade of blue, it had a pair of pointed ears, and two cannons protruded out of its shell at the shoulders.

    “Are you from Pallet Town?” Roy asked.

    “No,” Travis answered. “I come from Vermillion City. I caught my Squirtle in the wild.”

    “You must’ve trained hard to get it to evolve all the way to a Blastoise.”

    “Indeed. And I don’t intend to stop there. After taking on the Elite Four, Alexa and I plan on visiting Kalos. Once there, I plan on discovering their secret methods so I can evolve my Blastoise even further.”

    Even further? Pokémon weren’t supposed to evolve more than twice. He’d heard Kalos had discovered a way to evolve some Pokémon a third time. Looked like the rumors were true.

    Travis took another Poké Ball from his side and released a Golem. Another fully evolved Pokémon. Its body was a spherical collection of rocks. A tiny head poked out of the center, sporting red eyes and a pair of fangs on its lower jaw. It had short arms and legs with claws. Stubby as they were, those legs must’ve been abnormally strong to support its over three-hundred-kilogram body.

    “Golem here is one tough customer,” Travis said. “He’ll be a good sparring partner to practice Skull Bash on.”

    The Pokémon growled its name in a voice like grinding gravel. It sounded confident it could take whatever punishment they dealt.

    “Let’s get started. Blastoise, Skull Bash.” The giant turtle took a firm stance and tucked its head. It didn’t attack immediately though. Blastoise stood firm to build up strength for roughly ten seconds. Then it yelled and charged toward Golem, who retracted its head and limbs, curling up into a defensive ball. Blastoise plowed into the Golem headfirst. The Golem rolled back from the powerful blow, then reemerged from its curled position without a scratch on its rocky outer shell.

    Travis turned to Roy. “Now let’s see your Squirtle try.”

    Roy nodded at Squirtle. The turtle, planted his feet in the ground, imitating the stance Blastoise had made. Squirtle tucked his head with gritted teeth. His body tensed and his face turned red as he broke into a sweat. Roy figured Squirtle was trying to build up as much energy as he could, but couldn’t help think he just looked constipated.

    Squirtle screamed and ran at the Golem, head butting it with all the strength his tiny body could muster. The Golem didn’t budge. It didn’t even bother to curl into a defensive position. Squirtle barely landed on his feet. He staggered around like a drunkard, holding his dizzy head, having hurt himself more than Golem.

    Sitting on the bench to the side, Layton laughed. “It’s a start, I guess. Ideally, though, your opponent is supposed to take the damage.” Alexa elbowed him in the side.

    Travis rubbed his chin. “Your Squirtle seems to have the physical part down, but if it can’t learn to focus its energy into the blow, it’s just going to hurt itself.”

    “So, what do we do about it?” Roy asked.

    “Let me ask you. Tackle. Scratch. Peck. Headbutt. Stomp. Why do we label these as Pokémon ‘attacks’? Surely, any living creature can simply tuck its head and rush the opponent? Any bird can jab with its beak? It’s because (at least in battle) these aren’t normal actions. All Pokémon have energy in their bodies that allows them to use certain powers as well as empower basic actions. Your Squirtle needs to learn to channel this energy as a Pokémon. Otherwise, the Trainer may as well tackle the opponent themselves; it’d be no different. Using this energy on a basic level usually comes naturally to a Pokémon. Your Squirtle must still be young.”

    “He certainly has the impulsivity of a child.”

    Squirtle slumped to the ground and hung his head. Travis walked out onto the field and took a knee before Squirtle, rubbing his head. “This is good though. Raising a Pokémon from a young age helps the Trainer develop a deeper bond with their Pokémon. We’ll make a competitor out of him yet.” Travis stepped back off the field. He crossed his arms and seriousness returned to his face. “Again.”

 

***

 

The training continued throughout the afternoon. Squirtle showed improvement and could now pull off a basic Skull Bash, though he still lacked the standard power of the move. They took few breaks to rest, only stopping once at noon for a quick lunch. At one point, Travis switched with Alexa for an hour so she could teach Roy a few things about catching wild Pokémon. Roy mentioned some of the things he was struggling with and when he brought up how Squirtle had been knocked on his back and been unable to get back up, all three of them couldn’t help but laugh. Apparently Squirtle was supposed to use his tail to right himself. He was definitely young.

    In addition to Skull Bash, Travis taught Squirtle to use Bite and Rapid Spin, which proved easier to learn.

    It was twilight by the time they finally decided to call it a day. Squirtle sat on the ground, taking heavy breaths. Roy returned him to his Poké Ball so he could get some rest. Roy himself felt like falling asleep where he stood. While Squirtle practiced Skull Bash. Layton had made Roy do sit-ups, push-ups, and squats. Roy had questioned the purpose of such exertion and Layton insisted it was equally important for a Trainer to be as fit as possible, physically and mentally, if he was to make it traveling, and he should train alongside his Pokémon if he wanted to earn their respect. The only breaks he got were the times he paused to jot down notes of their progress in his journal or register the other Trainers’ Pokémon in his dex. Layton laughed at his “nerdy” behavior, and Roy responded by flipping him the bird.

    After the trio congratulated Roy on the progress he and Squirtle made, Roy went back inside the Pokémon Center, climbed up the stairs, and collapsed on the bed, falling asleep in less than a minute.

 

***

 

When Roy awoke, it was nearly noon. After getting something to eat, he decided to walk downtown. He’d been to Viridian City a couple of times before, but had always been busy running errands for the professor. He’d never actually explored the city. None of the buildings stretched higher than five stories, but it was certainly larger than Pallet Town. They even had a Pokémon academy for beginning Trainers. But what he really wanted to see was the Pokémon Gym. Roy would need to defeat all eight Gym Leaders throughout Kanto if he was to challenge the Elite Four. He still hadn’t caught a new Pokémon or won a single battle and knew he wasn’t ready to face the Gym yet. But there would be other challengers, so he may as well scope out the competition. Perhaps he could learn through spectating.

    Roy located the nearest tourist map board and found the Viridian Gym. It was nearby. Just over a kilometer north. Roy made his way there, passing a drunk old man lying in the middle of the street on the way. Even small cities, it seemed, had their fair share of loons.

    The Viridian Gym stood out amongst the ordinary buildings. A large brick structure with a rounded roof. A fountain sat between two sets of stairs that led up to the entrance. But a mass of people blocked the way. Gyms normally received daily challengers, but a crowd was unusual, and these people didn’t look like Trainers. They mumbled among themselves in anxious whispers. Roy guessed it had something to do with the four police cars parked along the street. With several uses of “excuse me” and “pardon me,” Roy pushed his way through until a line of police tape stopped him at the foot of the stairs. A police officer stood in front of the entrance, conversing with a tall, messy haired man in a brown trench coat, who rubbed at his chin in concentrated thought.

    “What’s going on here?” Roy asked the gentleman next to him.

    “The Gym’s under investigation.”

    “What for?”

    “They won’t give us the details. All we know is the Gym Leader is suspected of criminal activity.”

    Criminal activity? Roy’s mind went back to the increasing number of news reports covering the growing amount of Pokémon thievery around Kanto this last year. Did this have something to do with that? Gym Leaders were normally respected, reputable Trainers. Why would one be suspected of criminal activity?

    Well this was fine basket of lucky eggs. What would they do if one of the Gym Leaders ended up being arrested? Roy didn’t suppose the Pokémon League would drop the required badge number to seven. Who knew how long it would take to clear he Leader’s name, or–if he was found guilty–find a replacement? Either way, Roy wasn’t going to be challenging this Gym anytime soon.

     Fuck. It looked like there was nothing he could do but wait. There was no telling hw long it would take for this situation to resolve. Perhaps he should go challenge the other seven Gyms first, then return. From Cinnabar, he’d need to come back through Viridian on his way to the Indigo Plateau anyway.

     Roy watched the police officer and man in the trench coat converse. He leaned as far as he dared over the police line, straining his ears in frustration, but they were too far away to hear. Damnit. A Gym Leader under investigation? The idea seemed ridiculous. Where was the Leader now? Come to think of it… who was the Viridian Gym Leader? Roy could name the other seven. (Well, okay, nine if you counted the Sensational Sisters as three.) They tended to maintain a good public image, but Roy rarely heard anything about the Viridian leader.

    And then he remembered. Didn’t the Viridian Gym have a reputation of frequently being closed? Perhaps there was something suspicious going on.

    “Where’s the Gym Leader now?” Roy asked.

    “Arceus knows. Sounds like he fled when the police came knocking.”

    Fled? Well that was a funny way to make yourself look innocent. This would be headline news across Kanto. He would have to read up on this later after giving time to let the facts gather. For now, it looked like there was nothing he could do. He may as well spend the rest of the day around Viridian then stay at the Pokémon Center again tonight. He could set out for Pewter City in the morning.

    Roy stopped by a Poké Mart to buy more Poké Balls, called his mom to update her on how he was doing, leaving out as many of his failures as possible, then returned to the Pokémon Center.

 

***

 

“There he is,” Layton called out as Roy entered the center. “We thought you’d left without sayin’ goodbye.”

    “No. I just wanted to take a day off I guess and explore the city.”

    “I assume you stopped by the Gym?” Travis asked.

   “You guys heard about that then?”

    “News like that spreads pretty quickly between Trainers. Especially in Pokémon Centers.”

   “Do you think it’s true? Do you think he’s guilty of… whatever criminal activity he’s been accused of?”

    Layton shrugged, and for the first time since Roy met him, he looked serious. “It wouldn’t surprise me. The Viridian Leader’s always been a shady figure from what I’ve heard.”

   “But you three have collected all eight badges. So you must have battled and defeated him? What was he like?”

    The three gave each other a look. Alexa was the first to speak. “We didn’t actually meet him. When we challenged the Gym, we battled against a temporary stand-in.”

    “A stand-in? What, is this guy always off sipping lemonades in Alola?”

    “There’s nothin’ against it,” Layton said. “Gym Leaders are busy people. They’re allowed to entrust the Gym to anyone they trust to defend it. But most Leaders prefer to just close the Gym until their return.”

    Roy slumped back in his chair. “Except now, the Gym doesn’t even seem to have that. From what I saw, they looked ready to shut the place down.”

    “No way they’d do that,” Layton said. “The Pokémon League needs that Gym active or they can’t accept new challengers. More likely, if the current Leader has their position revoked, they’ll just find a replacement.”

    “Regardless,” Alexa said, “Viridian isn’t a Gym you’d want to be your first challenge anyway. They say it’s one of Kanto’s toughest, second only to Saffron’s. We only fought a stand-in and even he was more challenging than most of the other Gym Leaders.”

    Roy let out a sigh and craned his head back to look up at the ceiling. Simultaneously, he tipped his chair back, balancing it on its back legs. “Guess I’ll head to Pewter City and challenge the Leader there.”

    “Pewter’s an excellent Gym for beginners,” Layton said. “Brock’s no pushover, but his fightin’ style is best suited for new Trainers. And as a Leader who specializes in Rock-Type Pokémon, your little buddy will have an advantage.”

    “Your Squirtle still has more to learn,” Travis said. “But he showed a lot of progress on that Skull Bash. Keep practicing and your Squirtle should have it down by the time you get through Viridian Forest.”

    “Assumin’ you don’t get your assed kicked by any of the Trainers that like to hang around those parts,” Layton said with a laugh. Roy felt a brief spike of concern. It must’ve shown, because Layton slapped him on the shoulder. “I’m kiddin’. Those Bug catchers are a joke. I saw you battle yesterday. I’m sure you’ll give any amateur in that forest a run for their money. Honestly, I’d be more worried about the wild Pokémon. Beedrill are dangerous, even deadly if you don’t know what you’re doin’, but with all we taught you, I have no doubt you could probably catch one.”

    All Roy heard was “deadly.” Again, his worry must’ve shown on his face, because Alexa said, “Layton, stop scaring him. You’ll be fine, Roy. Beedrill attacks are rare, and most victims are people stupid enough to disturb their colony.”

    That didn’t give Roy much consolation. Based on the thrashing he received from that Shiny Ponyta, he certainly felt stupid.

    Silence followed. Layton was the first to break it. “Let me tell you a story, Roy. One I think you need to hear. It’s about a young boy who grew up in the slums of Saffron City.” Roy focused on Layton, his interest grabbed. Any story of living in the slums of a place like Saffron was sure to be a riveting one.

    “It was a terrible place,” Layton continued. “Especially for this child whose father walked out and whose mother was raped and killed in front of him when he was only five years old. No home or family, the boy lived on the streets, diggin’ through trash cans to find enough food to survive, strugglin’ to find water that hadn’t been polluted by Grimer, scared to fall asleep every night outta fear he’d freeze to death and never wake. Constantly lookin’ over his shoulder to ensure he wasn’t bein’ stalked by any of the city’s many psychopaths and criminals that wanted to take his smallest crumb of bread, or his ten cents he’d been lucky enough to find in a coin return slot, or perhaps just to take his life for whatever reason. Indeed, it was a tough life. But this boy wasn’t alone. He had one friend that helped him get through it all. A Pokémon named Tyrogue. The boy and the Pokémon were inseparable. Perhaps the Tyrogue was the only thing that kept the boy from losin’ his sanity.”

    Layton seemed to lose himself in the story as he told it.

    “The boy and his Tyrogue lived in the attic of an abandoned fightin’ dojo. It was a terrible place, but it had one perk. It was located high up on a hill and had an excellent view of the Saffron Pokémon Gym, which is an open stadium. Every night, they’d watch the Gym Leader take on dozens of opponents, winnin’ many, and losin’ only once in a blue moon. The boy and his Tyrogue promised each other that one day, they’d become strong Trainers just like the ones in that stadium. Then they’d never have to suffer again.

    “So the boy n’ his Tyrogue trained hard every day, getting’ stronger n’ stronger. They’d ask stronger Trainers that came through the city if they’d help em’. Course, no professional Trainer could be bothered by a brat too young ta be an official Trainer and his pathetic Tyrogue. And who, bein’ from the Saffron slums, most likely just wanted ta pick their pockets. With no one ta train em’, the two watched the matches in the stadium instead, studyin’ n’ learnin’. They had battles with wild Pokémon much stronger than they were, and they lost… Again n’ again n’ again. They near died, several times. But they kept tryin’. Kept trainin’. Cuz that’s the cool thing about consistent failure. Ya learn. By the time the boy turned eighteen, he registered as a Pokémon Trainer, n’ the first thing they did was challenge the Saffron City Gym.”

    “And…” Roy prompted.

    “They lost,” Layton continued. “Got their asses beat hard. But they didn’t give up. They kept trainin’, n’ eventually, they defeated that Gym and went on ta challenge the others as well.”

    “And where is that boy now?” Roy asked, though he was certain he knew the answer.

    Layton took a deep breath to compose himself. “Today, the boy and his evolved Tyrogue travel Kanto with a full team of strong Pokémon. In addition to his Pokémon, the boy travels with his two friends he met along the way, and occasionally he likes to help out new Trainers, givin’ them the encouragement and trainin’ he only ever received from himself.” Layton smiled warmly at Roy. “Don’t ever get discouraged, Roy. Every new Trainer struggles, but you can get through it. Trust me. No one knows better than I do.”

    Roy smiled back at Layton and sat up a little straighter, feeling his confidence return a little. He opened his mouth, about to say something, when he heard the jingle of the front door opening. Layton looked past Roy, and whatever he saw at the door made him almost gasp. Travis and Alexa also had their gaze fixed on the front door, faces showing equal uneasiness. Roy turned around and when he saw the person at the door, he felt the same hit of surprise. Roy didn’t know the man standing at the door, but he did recognize him as a Towlese man. He had short black hair, and a thick, closely trimmed beard. He wore a brown vest with a dark green undershirt and pants. As well as tall boots, gloves, and a belt that all looked made from abnormal leather.

    There were no Poké Balls on the man’s belt, but a Pokémon walked at his side. Standing a meter and a half tall, the bipedal mantis eyed the crowd with a fierce glare, a murderous look in its eyes accentuated by the deadly scythe blades that were its forearms. Scyther had an aggressive reputation, but this one specifically had the look of one that had killed before. And not just out of self-defense. Perhaps not just other Pokémon either.

    Seeing a Towlese man in Kanto brought Roy a little unease, but perhaps that was unfair. He shouldn’t jump to conclusions and judge a man on his race. Then again, it wasn’t technically the race. It was the beliefs of that race.

    All across the world, Pokémon were more than just animals. They were companions. Teammates. Friends. However, on a small, remote island far south of Kanto–past even the Sevii Islands–the population of Towli had a different mindset. Towli had a reputation as the poaching capital of the world. Home to a culture of people who sought rare Pokémon, sold them on the black market, and were notoriously cruel to the Pokémon they took. The Towlese didn’t capture Pokémon, they hunted them. Needless to say, they got along with the rest of the world about as well as Groudon and Kyogre.

    The Towlese man glanced around the room. “Everywhere I go it’s the same. Are you Kantonians all so inhospitable?” He clomped across the floor in his boots, approaching the front desk.

    The receptionist kept a calm and friendly expression, but the look in her eyes betrayed it. “I think you’re lost, sir. This is a center where Pokémon are cared for.”

    “That’s exactly what I’m here for. My Scyther and I have had quite a long journey, and we could use a good place to rest for the night. Or do Pokémon Centers no longer offer free beds to Trainers?”

    “To Trainers, yes. Last I checked though, Trainers keep their Pokémon inside their Poké Balls.”

    “Are you going to treat my Scyther, or shall I take my business elsewhere?”

    The receptionist seemed happy to let him leave but reluctantly pressed the button on her desk to call the Chansey up front and take the Scyther to the back.

    Racist much? Roy thought. But for someone working at a center focused on Pokémon care, it made sense that she’d take issue with a culture that treated Pokémon as merchandise to be abused, hunted, and sold. Sure, there were places all over the world that sold Pokémon as pets, and no country was a stranger to working with Pokémon on something like a farm or construction site. But the Towlese methods were…

    Of course, just being from Towli didn’t mean this man shared all of its common practices and beliefs. But based on his outfit and gear, Roy wagered the odds of that being the case were about as likely as Roy catching Mesprit in the pond out back.

    “Thank you,” said the Towlese man. “Now if you’re willing to be polite, perhaps you can help me. Pokémon Centers are good places of information, no? I’m here in Kanto for sightseeing purposes.”

    “If you’re here to see rare Pokémon,” the receptionist said, “you’ve come to the wrong city. You’ll find little around here.”

    “Perhaps.” The Towlese man gave a slight smile then turned to the lobby of Trainers. “Although… I hear there’s one particularly rare Pokémon around these parts.”

    Rare Pokémon? Did he mean the Shiny Ponyta?

    The Towlese man’s eyes moved around the room as if expecting an answer from someone, but the lobby remained silent. He frowned at the lack of response. “Hmm. What a friendly lot.” His eyes met Roy’s. Roy looked down. “Hey, there. Boy.” The boots stomped along the floor, growing louder as they approached. Roy raised his head as the Towlese man sat across from him. “What’s the matter? Can’t say hello to strangers?”

    “I can.”

    “There’s no need to be nervous. I know what you’re thinking. You see that I’m Towlese and immediately assume me to be a poacher. Am I wrong?”

    Roy didn’t answer.

    “What’s your name, boy?”

    He hesitated to give it. “Roy.”

    “My name is Liren. Now, as I said, Roy, I’m here for sightseeing. Not to cause trouble. I hear there’s a Shiny Pokémon around these parts. Perhaps you’ve seen it?

    Roy knew he shouldn’t assume this man meant harm just because he happened to be Towlese. But then Roy remembered the eyes of that Scyther. They’d been the eyes of a killer. Roy looked Liren up and down, getting a closer look at his gear, which Roy could now see with certainty was made from leather. Specifically, Charizard skin.

    Black Charizard skin.

    Such a strong Fire-type dragon didn’t go down easy. Roy gritted his teeth as he wondered what suffering that Charizard must’ve endured to make this man’s outfit. Just looking in Liren’s cold eyes, Roy could see this man’s intentions. And not even Roy, who’d been humiliated by that Ponyta, would sell her out to this poacher, who would do Arceus knew what with her.

    “No. I haven’t,” Roy answered.

    Liren held his gaze, staring deep into Roy’s eyes as though he saw straight through the bluff. But he must not have thought it worth the trouble to press further, because he shrugged and stood.

    “Oh well,” Liren said. “It seems I’ve overestimated the knowledge of the Trainers here. Guess I’ll just have to find it myself.” He made his way to the entrance.

    “I trust you’ll take good care of my Scyther,” Liren said to the receptionist. “I’ll be back for it first thing in the morning.” With that, he left, the doors sliding shut behind him. Roy’s fist still trembled beneath the table. He didn’t like that Ponyta, but if this man laid so much as a finger on that innocent creature, Roy might just battle him with fists instead of Pokémon.

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To be continued...

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