He returned to his seat with the Dark-type still on his shoulder, and I revised my assessment slightly.
Silver was harsh, probably too harsh, but there was potential for a genuine partnership there. Unlike Damian or Hunter J, he seemed to recognize his Pokémon as a living being rather than an object.
"Paul," Oak called.
The purple-haired trainer from Sinnoh stood and walked toward the habitats with his arms crossed. His narrow eyes moved across each Pokémon with clinical detachment, and I saw his gaze linger on several before moving to the next.
He stopped in front of Chimchar's habitat.
The little Fire-type shrank back immediately, flames flickering with anxiety. Something about Paul's body language and his cold assessment triggered an instinctive fear response in the Pokémon.
"Small," Paul observed aloud. "Weak-looking. Low defense, probably poor stamina. But Fire-type has strategic advantages against Bug, Grass, Ice, and Steel opponents."
He wasn't talking to Chimchar. He was evaluating it as if it were a piece of equipment.
"The evolutionary line includes Monferno and Infernape," he continued his analysis. "Final form is Fire and Fighting dual-type. High attack potential if trained correctly."
Oak stepped forward, his voice carrying a warning. "Paul, that Chimchar is young and—"
"I'll take it." Paul's tone brooked no argument. "I'll train it properly. Make it strong enough to be useful."
The way he said "useful" made my skin crawl.
I brought him the Pokéball, and he registered it with the same efficiency Silver had shown.
When Chimchar materialized outside its habitat, the little Fire-type looked up at its new trainer with obvious trepidation.
"Char...?" The sound was small and uncertain.
"Stop cowering," Paul said flatly. "You're my Pokémon now. That means you'll train harder than you ever have before. No weakness. No excuses. Understood?"
"Chim..." Chimchar's flames dimmed slightly, and the little Pokémon seemed to shrink further into itself.
Paul recalled it without waiting for a real response. "It'll learn."
He returned to his seat, and I saw Ash's hands clench into fists. Even Lyra looked angry, and Cheryl had tears gathering in her eyes.
'He's going to break that Pokémon's spirit,' I thought, remembering the anime arc where Paul's brutal training methods nearly destroyed Chimchar's will to battle. 'Constant demands for power, punishment for failure, no positive reinforcement at all.'
'And there's nothing I can do about it without proof of actual abuse. The League won't intervene based on harsh training alone.'
Gible growled softly beside me. 'That human is poison. He will destroy his partner's spirit before he realizes what he's lost.'
'I know. But some lessons have to be learned the hard way.'
"Janine," Oak said, his voice subdued now.
The purple-haired ninja moved from her position in the shadows without a sound. One moment she was against the wall, the next she was standing in front of the Skorupi habitat, and I hadn't seen her cross the distance.
She crouched before the glass, studying the Poison and Bug-type with professional interest. Skorupi emerged from its own shadows in the habitat, and the two regarded each other with what appeared to be mutual understanding.
"You move well," Janine said quietly. "Quietly. Like a proper shinobi."
Skorupi's tail twitched once.
"My father leads the Fuchsia Gym. Poison-type specialist. I intend to follow in his footsteps." She slowly extended her hand, palm up. "Will you walk that path with me?"
The Skorupi approached the glass and tapped it once with a claw.
Janine accepted the Pokéball from me without breaking eye contact with her new partner. The registration was completed, and Skorupi materialized outside the habitat. It immediately moved to follow her as she returned to the shadows, its movements perfectly silent.
I felt a measure of relief seeing that partnership form. Janine was serious, disciplined, and clearly respected her Pokémon.
That was at least three trainers now—Silver, Janine, and potentially the remaining ones—who might actually form genuine bonds.
"Samurai," Oak called, some warmth returning to his voice.
The armored trainer stood and bowed formally before approaching the habitats.
He moved with grace despite his equipment, and his examination of each Pokémon was respectful and thorough.
He knelt before the Nincada habitat, watching the Bug and Ground-type burrow through the substrate.
"I seek a partner for the warrior's path," Samurai said formally. "One who understands discipline, patience, and the gradual mastery of technique."
Nincada's antennae emerged from the dirt, swiveling to focus on the human.
"Will you walk this road with me?" Samurai asked. "Train beside me? Grow stronger through dedicated effort rather than shortcuts?"
The Nincada clicked its mandibles once, then twice.
Then it burrowed up completely, emerging onto the surface to regard Samurai directly.
"I am honored." Samurai bowed to the Pokémon before accepting its Pokéball from me.
When Nincada materialized, it crawled onto Samurai's armored shoulder and settled there as if it had always belonged. The warrior gently touched its shell, and I saw a genuine connection forming between them.
'That's what it should look like,' I thought. 'Mutual respect. Shared goals. Partnership in its truest form.'
"Cheryl," Oak said gently.
The green-haired girl practically floated toward the habitats, her attention fixed entirely on the incubation chamber containing Togepi's egg.
The shell was rocking intensely now, cracks spreading across its surface with each movement.
"Oh!" Cheryl pressed her hands against the glass. "Professor Oak, it's hatching!"
"So it is." Oak carefully moved to open the incubation chamber. "Sometimes Pokémon choose their moments. Would you like to be there when it emerges?"
"Yes! Please!" Cheryl's eyes were bright with tears.
Oak lifted the egg carefully and placed it in Cheryl's waiting hands. She cradled it gently, providing warmth and support as the shell continued to crack.