Happy vacations are always short. When the last trace of summer's sweltering heat was swept away by the cool breeze of early autumn, the bell for the new term rang right on schedule.
Magic City First Pokémon High School, silent for an entire summer, was once again filled to the brim with the clamor of voices.
The air was saturated with that uniquely youthful, slightly restless hormonal buzz.
After a holiday of wild-field training and a flood of family resources, nearly every returning student had an uncontrollable excitement written all over their face.
Strength is everything for a Trainer.
And vacations are the golden time for widening the gap.
At this moment, the classroom of Year 2, Class 1 had basically turned into a miniature "showing-off convention." The noisy chatter was so loud it felt like it might blow the ceiling off.
"Hahaha! Guys, look what I caught!"
A tall boy, his face flushed with excitement, slapped a Poké Ball heavily onto the desk. With a flash of red light, a sleek-coated Ponyta appeared at his side, proudly raising hooves wreathed in flame.
"Elite-rank potential! I went through three different wild field zones to find a specimen this perfect!"
He announced at the top of his lungs, practically spraying spit.
A chorus of exclamations filled with envy and sourness rose up around him.
"Elite rank? That's nothing!"
Another boy, decked out in name-brand clothes, curled his lip in disdain and lazily released a sharp-eyed Growlithe.
"My dad called in a favor from inside the Pokémon League just to get me this Growlithe. Its bloodline is completely pure. Once it evolves into Arcanine, its Speed is going to be absolutely top-tier!"
Those words triggered another wave of low whispering.
Family background, connections, resources—these invisible assets were being laid bare on the table without the slightest restraint.
"You're all small-time!"
A voice drowned everyone else out. A very average-looking boy stood up smugly and lined up three Poké Balls on his desk with three crisp taps, like he was displaying military medals.
"Three. I already have three Pokémon now!"
The moment the words left his mouth, the entire classroom fell still for a beat.
All eyes locked onto the three Poké Balls in a row, full of shock.
At this age, most students were still struggling to raise their very first main battler. Anyone who already had a second Pokémon was considered top of the class.
And three Pokémon was practically the exclusive configuration of study prodigies and elite students.
The number and quality of your Pokémon formed the simplest and crudest strength hierarchy at this age.
In the corner, Sunada Kaoru was quietly polishing a Luxury Ball with a piece of chamois, wholly focused, the corners of his mouth curved in a confident arc.
On the other side, Agano Roka leaned against the window, gaze drifting toward the distant skyline. The aura around him was even calmer—and sharper—than last term.
They didn't join in this low-level verbal flexing, but their overflowing confidence silently declared that what they had gained over the vacation far outstripped these loud classmates.
Just as the atmosphere in the classroom was about to be pushed to yet another climax—
"Creak—"
The classroom door was pushed open.
The racket was as if gripped by an invisible hand; all sound cut off in an instant.
Kudo Shiba walked in together with Takai Yuko.
In that moment, the gaze of the entire class—and even the students passing by in the hallway—locked onto Shiba as if they were iron filings drawn to a magnet.
He still had that same calm, indifferent look, as if all the noise of the outside world existed in a completely different dimension from him.
Takai Yuko followed at his side, a faint smile on the girl's face making Shiba's aura seem even more unfathomable by contrast.
"Kudo Shiba's here…"
"Man… after just one vacation, even his aura feels different."
"No kidding. He's the Battle Tower's Rookie King. Who knows how terrifying he's become after this break?"
Murmurs surged up like a tide, then quickly receded.
No one dared to speak too loudly. That bone-deep sense of awe born from absolute strength had already taken root in them.
Shiba ignored all the attention and walked straight to his seat.
He pulled out his chair and sat down. The entire process was smooth and unhurried, not a single wasted motion.
The calmer he was, the more the surrounding students felt an invisible pressure.
Finally, one boy who had a decent relationship with Shiba, under the relentless goading of his friends, plucked up his courage and shuffled over.
He rubbed his hands together, a fawning yet intensely curious smile plastered on his face.
"Um… Shiba-nii."
"Yeah?"
Shiba lifted his eyes and responded faintly.
"Shiba-nii, you must've gotten a ton stronger over the vacation, right? Now… now how many Pokémon do you have? Could you… y'know… let us see?"
That question was like a stone dropped into a tranquil lake, instantly kicking up waves.
It voiced what everyone else was thinking.
The air in the classroom seemed to thicken. Everyone held their breath, ears pricked, eyes shining with anticipation, curiosity, and even a faint, unrealistic trace of challenge.
They wanted to know just how high this acknowledged Number One now stood.
Under dozens of focused gazes, Shiba's fingertips tapped lightly on the desktop twice.
He seemed to be thinking.
That brief pause pushed everyone's tension to an all-time high.
At last, he nodded.
"Why not."
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly to every ear.
"It's been a while since I let them come out for some air."
As his words fell, Shiba slowly raised his arm and, from the tactical belt at his waist, took off one—
Two—
Three—
…a full six Poké Balls.
He had no trace of showiness in his movements; he set them down as casually as if they were just a handful of ordinary marbles.
Six Poké Balls, which he lined up on the desk in order, forming a straight line that made hearts pound.
In that instant, every pupil in the room shrank violently.
Six!
He had already filled out a full squad of six Pokémon!
And that was only the beginning.
Under everyone's suffocating stare, Shiba extended a finger and, from left to right, pressed each Poké Ball's central button in turn.
His movements were unhurried, carrying a rhythm all their own.
"Vmm—"
"Vmm—"
"Vmm— Vmm— Vmm— Vmm—"
Six intense beams of red light erupted at once!
The blinding radiance swallowed the entire classroom in an instant, turning everyone's vision stark white for a heartbeat.
The next second, the light faded.
Six Pokémon, each radiating crushing pressure and overwhelming power, stood in the already crowded classroom!
The temperature, humidity—even the air pressure—all shifted dramatically in that moment!
A Dragonair with a noble, elegant bearing, its serpentine body coiled in midair. Its pearlescent scales shimmered with a dreamlike luster, and in those violet eyes was a still, bottomless majesty. The aura of a Gym Leader-level peak washed over everyone like an invisible mountain pressing down on their hearts!
Next was a savage, defiant Gabite. Its heavily muscled limbs braced solidly against the floor, and its dark-blue hide seemed to roil with molten power beneath the surface. Golden eyes blazed with pure brutality and fighting spirit, and the low growl rumbling in its throat made the desks and chairs tremble. It too… was a Gym Leader-level peak!
The third was an overlord resurrected from ancient times—Aerodactyl! Its vast leathery wings nearly blocked out the sunlight from the windows, casting a huge shadow. A roar like shattering steel dragged everyone back in their minds to a Jurassic world where only the strong survived. The elite-rank-peak pressure of an ancient predator made the students' Pokémon shrink back into their balls in fear!
The fourth was a gleaming, metallic figure—a shiny Metang. It floated in silence, three sharp claws flashing with cold light. Its single crimson eye swept the classroom without a hint of emotion, like the sensor of a precision war machine. The frigid killing intent of a solid elite-rank Pokémon dropped the room's temperature by several degrees all on its own!
The last two were still small in stature, yet the bloodline power pulsing through their bodies was just as noble and suffocating. Two baby pseudo-legendaries!
One, a Bagon overflowing with scorching draconic presence.
The other, a Ralts wrapped in a mysterious psychic field.
Six in total!
All six!
Dragonair! Gabite! Aerodactyl! Shiny Metang! Bagon! Ralts!
Every last one of them was either a pseudo-legendary or an ultra-rare top-class Pokémon with Champion-level potential!
In that moment, the entire classroom—no, the entire school peeking through windows and cracks in the door—seemed to have its mute button pressed, sinking into absolute, graveyard-level silence!
The boy who had just been bragging about his Ponyta watched the color drain completely from his face, his expression frozen into a ridiculous statue.
The boy showing off his Growlithe and family prestige gaped, his throat working as it produced a strangled "guh guh" sound, yet not a single word managed to come out.
The boy who had treated his three Poké Balls like precious heirlooms dropped one to the floor with a "clack." It rolled into the corner, but he didn't even notice.
They stared blankly at that dreamlike "pseudo-legendary army," minds completely wiped clean, every thought scoured away by the sheer, world-ending weight of that collective aura.
Envy?
No.
When the gap grows big enough, emotions like envy can no longer form.
All that remains is an endless, speechless shock—like mere mortals gazing up at a god.
This… is effort.
This… is talent.
This… is family power.
This is everything—everything they could never catch up to, never comprehend, never even imagine…
A chasm to the heavens!
(End of Chapter)
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