Seeing that Iwama was in no mood to elaborate, Senmu suppressed his questions for now. After taking his leave, he headed toward the training grounds with his Pawniard.
He carefully fastened a slightly worn set of training gear onto Pawniard's body.
The equipment looked old—ill-fitting in places—but appearances were deceiving.
Even if Senmu worked another three months, he still wouldn't be able to afford a full set of proper training gear. These had once belonged to Iwama's Nidorino. After it evolved into Nidoking, the change in body structure rendered the equipment unusable. Iwama had passed the entire set down to Senmu, saving him a considerable sum.
"Pawniard, same routine as usual. We'll start with shuttle runs to build endurance."
"Pawn!"
Feeling the familiar weight settle onto its body, Pawniard stretched and rolled its bladed arms, signaling readiness.
Senmu removed his Team Rocket uniform, revealing a physique that was finally beginning to fill out. Three months of steady meals had slowly corrected the malnutrition he once suffered. When he first joined, he had been little more than skin and bones.
"Warm up first. Run to the horizontal bar and back—five sets. Think you can handle it?"
"Pawn!"
Despite the added weight, Pawniard shot forward with impressive speed.
The first three rounds were clean and sharp. By the fourth, its pace began to falter.
Ten minutes later, all five sets were complete. Pawniard collapsed onto the ground, panting, staring at Senmu as if to say, I can't go on.
Senmu sighed inwardly.What can I do with you?
From his backpack, he took out a bottle of Moomoo Milk and waved it teasingly in front of Pawniard.
"Not bad. You broke your personal record today. One more lap, and you get your favorite Moomoo Milk."
The words echoed like temptation itself.
Pawniard's gaze locked onto the bottle. Driven by thirst and pride—and Senmu's encouragement—it forced itself upright and completed the final lap.
Senmu handed over the milk.
Pawniard uncorked it and gulped greedily.
"Pawn!"
Seeing how much it loved Moomoo Milk, Senmu couldn't help but smile. After all, he had captured Pawniard with nothing more than a single bottle of the stuff.
During the break, Senmu took out the spatial bracelet Iwama had given him.
It resembled a fitness band from his previous life, bearing a subtle R insignia. Upon close inspection, he noticed faint traces of dried blood lodged within the inner seam.
From prior observation, he knew that Team Rocket's spatial bracelets required fingerprint authentication. Three failed attempts would trigger an internal explosion.
When Iwama handed it to him, the original print had already been wiped. After registering his own fingerprint, Senmu stored a few personal belongings inside.
Then, with a thought, he activated his system.
Scan.
A three-dimensional holographic projection—visible only to him—materialized before his eyes.
Pokémon: PawniardType: Dark / SteelLevel: 14 (Growth Stage)Gender: MaleAbility: Inner Focus (Prevents flinching through mental discipline)Moves: Scratch, Leer, Fury Cutter, Metal ClawHeld Item: NoneEgg Moves: Sucker Punch, Quick GuardIndividual Value: 22TM / Tutor Moves: None
Two egg moves. An individual value of 22.
Exceptional.
(Note: Individual values in this world are no longer separated into six stats. The maximum is a flat 31—the higher the number, the greater the innate talent.)
The moment he obtained Pawniard, the system had awakened—startling him badly at first. Only after confirming that no one else could see the holographic interface did he relax.
The system's layout resembled the interface of the modded Emerald version he once played. It had two primary functions: a personal status page and a detection page.
The detection function allowed him to view Pokémon levels, potential, and certain item information.
It might not grant items or cheat-like advantages—but it was far from useless.
In this world, becoming a trainer was brutally difficult.
Ordinary trainers who wished to evaluate a Pokémon's aptitude had to pay a significant fee at a Pokémon Center for a full diagnostic examination. The cost far exceeded that of simple healing—and the data would be recorded in the Center's system, carrying the risk of information leaks.
No wonder everyone longed to become League-certified trainers.
Free treatment at Pokémon Centers. One complimentary comprehensive checkup every six months. These benefits alone were immensely attractive—especially since others had no system like Senmu's to privately assess their Pokémon.
The Pokédex was therefore invaluable.
While it could not reveal aptitude, it provided basic data—name, height, weight, and approximate energy levels.
There were two official ways to obtain one:
The first required parents to pay annual League taxes from the child's age of eight until fourteen—a total of 500,000. Provided the family had no criminal record and no ties to anti-League organizations, the child could receive a Kanto starter Pokémon and Pokédex from Nurse Joy at a Pokémon Center, becoming a registered trainer entitled to League benefits.
In truth, this was already a favorable price. A Kanto starter egg from a certified breeding house could cost millions.
The second method was to participate in League missions or competitions organized by Pokémon Centers, earning contribution points that could be exchanged for a Pokédex and other rare items.
Becoming a formal League trainer granted free healing at every Pokémon Center and complimentary lodging at League facilities—just like the carefree protagonist from Pallet Town in the anime.
There was, of course, a third path:
Buy one from the black market.
But if discovered, one would face League investigation.
"Pawn!"
Pawniard extended the half-empty bottle toward Senmu, urging him to drink.
Senmu chuckled and accepted the shared bottle.
"Break's over. Time for movement drills."
He led Pawniard to a massive boulder marked with countless blade scars—their past training sessions etched into stone.
"Pawniard. Use Metal Claw."
In an instant, silver light enveloped its twin blades. It dashed forward and slashed.
Shhk!
Two deep cuts gouged into the rock.
"Not bad. Your Metal Claw is getting sharper."
"Pawn!"
"Next, Fury Cutter."
Fury Cutter increased in power with consecutive hits, capping at tremendous force—but missing would reset its strength. Precision was everything.
Senmu picked up a soda can.
"Watch carefully. Your task is simple—don't let a single can slip past you."
He threw.
"Pawn!"
The can split cleanly in two.
Pawniard struck a triumphant pose.
"Not bad. But remember my real requirement."
"Pawn?"
Realization dawned.
The objective was not merely to cut—but to maintain continuous Fury Cutter strikes, increasing momentum and control.
Pawniard tapped its head sheepishly.
"It's fine. We'll run it again."
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the training ground glowed in amber light.
Under that fading sky, Senmu and Pawniard continued—blade flashing, cans flying, discipline hardening into strength.