Ash turned his head and glanced at Gary, who was still frozen in shock. He frowned slightly and called out sharply,
"Gary, don't tell me you're this shaken just because you lost one match."
"No matter what, your Fletchling is injured. As a proper Pokémon Trainer, your first priority should be taking it to Nurse Joy for treatment."
Gary finally snapped out of it when he heard Ash's words. Seeing the concern in Ash's eyes, he gave a wry smile.
"I've always seen you as my rival. I thought we were equals… I didn't expect to lose to you in just two moves the very first time we battled."
"It's really frustrating… and hard to swallow."
Still shaking his head in disbelief, Gary stepped onto the field and gently picked up his unconscious Fletchling.
"So what now? I'm better than you. Are you scared?" Ash grinned, teasing him with a smirk.
"Scared of you? You're kidding, right? I just got caught off guard. Next time, the one who wins will definitely be me! Hmph!" Gary snorted as his usual pride returned. Holding his fainted Fletchling, he turned and strode confidently toward the temporary Pokémon Center Nurse Joy had set up outside the training grounds.
"Professor, I can't believe Gary actually lost to Ash. That was… really unexpected," said Thorne, Professor Oak's assistant, standing beside him with a tone full of surprise.
"It was unexpected to you," Professor Oak replied with a calm smile, his hands behind his back. "But I already predicted this outcome before the match even began."
Far from disappointed that his grandson had lost, the professor looked rather pleased.
"Yes, yes, of course, Professor. You saw it coming all along," Thorne nodded sheepishly.
"But Ash really is just like you said. He's got incredible talent as a Trainer. He'd barely had Froakie for half an hour, yet he managed to command it perfectly—and even creatively use its Frubbles in battle."
"And that calm and composed aura he had when giving battle orders… it's hard to believe he's just six years old. He didn't seem like a beginner at all—more like a veteran Trainer with years of experience."
Thorne adjusted his glasses as he observed the young boy with short black hair and a naturally sharp but youthful face standing in the arena. His words were filled with disbelief.
"Haha… actually, it wasn't just you. Even I was taken aback by Ash's composure in battle."
"Ash's talent as a Trainer is truly frightening. Even someone like Lance, who had formal training from his clan at that age, was only barely at this level."
As one of the older members of the League, Professor Oak had seen far more Trainers and knew what true talent looked like.
"Lance? You're saying Ash's talent compares to Champion Lance?" Thorne's eyes widened. "But Lance is a Champion-Tier Trainer—"
"It's not that Ash is just equal to Lance," Oak interrupted with a bigger grin, "It's that he's even more gifted."
"Hard to believe, huh? Well, I might be an old man, but I still know how to recognize potential."
"No, no, I definitely believe you, Professor," Thorne replied quickly, scratching the back of his head. "It's just… so hard to accept, that's all."
Oak gave a thoughtful nod. He understood how difficult it was to believe such talent could exist in such a young boy.
"But no matter how gifted someone is, talent still needs time to grow. If it can't be turned into real strength, then it's all meaningless."
"Still… with Ash, I truly believe he has a brilliant future ahead."
Back in the training field, Ash, full of momentum from his recent win, scanned the crowd and raised his voice:
"I'm Ash from Pallet Town. Anyone else up for a battle?"
"I'll go!!" came a booming voice.
A burly, well-built boy stepped forward.
"I'm Puff, from Moonview Town in the Kalos region. My partner is Machop! Let me be your next opponent!"
With confidence, Puff released his Pokémon. A bluish gray-skinned, humanoid Fighting-type appeared—Machop!
Ash's eyes lit up. This opponent had a stronger aura than most of the other campers.
"Nice. Let's do this."
"System, scan that Machop's info."
[Pokémon: Machop]
Level: 5
Type: Fighting
Nature: Hasty
Ability: No Guard
Potential: Green
Moves (Copyable):
· [Proficient]: Low Kick (27/500)
· [Novice]: Leer, Focus Energy (9/100)
The scan revealed Machop wasn't especially powerful. Like the others, it was at level 5 and only knew three moves. However, compared to Froakie, its skill proficiency was lower overall.
Ash didn't feel pressured in the slightest. Even if others didn't think highly of Froakie, he knew what his partner could do.
With both Pokémon now ready, the staff member acting as the temporary referee called out:
"Let the match begin!"
Machop's move pool consisted mostly of supportive techniques, but Puff didn't seem like the type to use status moves at all.
Or maybe, like many kids his age, he only knew how to attack and would instinctively ignore non-offensive strategies.
"Machop, charge in and use Low Kick!" Puff shouted without hesitation.
"Machooop!!" The gray Pokémon roared, stomping heavily as it dashed toward Froakie with impressive momentum.
This time, Ash didn't bother using Growl to reduce the opponent's attack power. Instead, he calmly waited a moment, letting Machop get within range of Froakie's long-distance move.
As the campers held their breath, Ash's voice rang out, steady and full of command:
"Froakie, use your Frubbles to glue down its feet!"
"Froaaa!" Froakie, who had been crouched still on the field, reacted instantly.
Reaching behind its neck, it grabbed two sticky balls of Frubbles and flung them at Machop—not at its face, but directly at its fast-moving feet.
Just like hurling cakes in a birthday food fight, Froakie's gooey projectiles sailed through the air…
Only, these weren't for fun—Ash was about to turn the tide of battle again.
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T/N:
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