Chapter Two
A Challenger Approaches
For the following week, days crept by with little incident. As always, he divided them into 'work days' and 'non work days'. Days where he had to get out of bed, into some semblance of 'presentable' and spend countless hours with the disgruntled locals of Cherrygrove, generally mad over pointless issues And then there were the glorious 'nothing' days where no-one cared if he balled himself up in his bed with only a laptop and games console for company, and spoke to no-one but strangers online.
There was unwelcome news waiting for Paul when he turned up for work on Saturday morning, however. The supermarket had hired two new members of staff and after being introduced to them, Paul already knew they were that irritating brand of 'suck up' that would get on his nerves. Consequently, the hours of many of the staff had been reduced; which quickly became a hot topic in the break room.
"They can't reduce my hours!" one person wailed. "I've been here for six years; they can't do that to me!"
"I'm only part time after school, so it doesn't make too much difference to me," one of the younger employees admitted sheepishly.
"What about you, bro?" Darren nudged Paul in the ribs.
"Doesn't bother me too much. More free time is always good, and so long as I make enough to cover rent and eat, I'm happy."
The other members of staff shared uncertain looks at Paul's answer. Darren chuckled. "That's a very nihilistic view of life, dude." He said grandly.
"And where the hell did you learn such a complicated word? More than three syllables is a bit of a struggle for you normally, isn't it?" Paul retorted, not missing a beat.
A ripple of laughter went through the break room. Darren shrugged. "Whatever, man."
Paul checked the time. He had been fortunate in landing one of the 'golden shifts', an easy 10 till 2. It was a coveted time to be working – starting late enough so that you got a decent sleep and finishing early enough that you still had most of the day free. It was a peak time shift, with lots of families coming in and out, so the time slipped past without even noticing. And just as he expected, it was already over.
It was a pleasantly warm Saturday with a refreshing salty breeze blowing in from the coast. With the rest of the day his to fritter away as he pleased, he turned away from the town centre and headed for a small park just beyond the Pokemon Centre. A group of local kids and trading card game enthusiasts often staked out a corner there and held amateur tournaments; handy for when he wanted something a little more social than online gaming. The people held him to something of a high regard, knowing his reputation as a champion, so the company was normally pleasant, instead of only tolerable.
There were five players crammed around a tiny, fold-up table engrossed in a heated battle. But as he pointedly dumped his bag to signal his arrival, they all paused and turned to face him.
The eldest of the gamers currently present was only fourteen, but he was already taller and broader than Paul. "Hey! The triumphant returns."
Paul chuckled. "So, I take it you heard?"
"Course we did!" the long girl of the group piped up. Coincidentally, she was the only one Paul had actually made an effort to remember the name of. "In fact, we're all kinda annoyed you hadn't showed up earlier. Mark said he saw you at work three days ago."
"Aww, what's the matter, Monica? Did you miss me?" he grinned, tossing her a can of energy drink from a six pack he had brought along.
"Like hell." She caught the incoming can easily. "But battling all these wimps is getting old. Who's better to challenge than the three time region-wide champion?"
"A compelling point." He nodded. "Alright, I suppose we can have a battle if it means that much to you. But we'll wait until the other two finish."
She nodded, satisfied, and plonked herself down on the ground. Paul sat next to her and the two of them slurped from their cans as the young gamers continued their match.
"Where's the other guy?" Paul eventually asked, some five minutes of awkward silence later. "The one with all the hair… and those stupid earrings."
"Oh, him." Monica scowled. "He took off about a week back. He finally got his trainer license through. Kept calling the games stupid and acting like he was better than us because he got a real Pokemon."
"Really? And what Pokemon did he get?"
"…A Hoppip."
Paul nearly spat out the mouthful of energy drink with his urge to laugh. "Oh, don't you worry, Monica. Any idiot who has a Hoppip has no business pretending like he's better than anyone."
Monica chuckled to herself and tucked her knees under her chin. "Perhaps. But I hate people like that, you know? Just cos he got a Pokemon and all… doesn't make him any better than us. Especially when there are some of us who just can't get Pokemon for whatever reason…"
"Mm." Paul murmured, keen to move the subject along. "Hey, look, I think they're wrapping up their battle. Come on, let's get it over with."
The small group played until the late evening hours, Paul easily besting every opponent that sat opposite his table. The time passed quickly. He made the journey back to the centre of town alone, stopping briefly at the supermarket to pick up something for dinner. One of the part time guys was finishing his shift just as he arrived and they exchanged a brief hello. He was being met by his girlfriend who nestled a dopey looking Wooper in the crook of her arm. She kissed him loudly and enthusiastically. Paul grimaced.
He bought a ready-made curry and a stack of crisps, as well as another 6 pack of his favourite Feraligatr juice and lugged it all home as the skies grew darker. There was a stack of mail lying on the doormat which he kicked to the side as he lumbered in. The curry was less than stellar by the time he finished nuking it; watery, tasteless sauce and stodgy rice. Most of it went in the bin in favour of the six pack of crisps.
There was nothing on the tiny television worth watching. Some cutesy documentaries about abandoned Pokemon, endless repeats of various sitcoms, and bad 80's movies. He flicked through them idly, disinterested, before retrieving his laptop from the room. Just as he sat down again with the aim of signing into PokeMMO, his phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hi sweetheart!" the voice at the other end trilled.
"…Hi mum."
"I was trying to get a hold of you for ages earlier, darling. Where were you?"
"Out."
"Out where?"
"Hanging out with some of the kids in the park."
"Oh, Paul." His mother tutted. "You have to stop that. Those kids are all really young. People might get… suspicious."
"Mum, for goodness's sake, we were just playing Pokemon."
"I see." Paul could sense his mother stiffening even from hundreds of miles away on the other end of a phone.
"What do you want anyway, mum? I thought you were too busy enjoying yourself in Slateport."
"Oh, we've had some wonderful news, darling! Has Kathleen called you yet?"
Kathleen, his elder sister, was a doctor in a private health clinic in Goldenrod City, and was a decidedly stuck-up woman that Paul would struggle finding any sort of affection towards. "Well, no. She hasn't talked to me in ages."
"Oh, I expect she's been that busy, darling." His mother replied offhandedly. "She called me a little while ago. She's getting married!"
Paul blinked. "She's what?"
"She's engaged!"
"To who?"
"That wonderful surgeon that works with her! Dr Inglis."
Paul snorted. "Kathleen Inglis?"
"I think it's quite becoming of her, darling." She replied grandly. Paul could just imagine her puffing her chest up with pride like an overripe balloon.
"Wait, hang on a second. Wasn't Kathleen with that Pokemon co-ordinator?"
"Oh honey, that was a long time ago."
"It wasn't that long ago! I hadn't even heard of this new guy. When did she meet him?"
"She told me he started working with them in January, I believe."
"January? This year?"
"That is what she said."
"But mum, it's only September!"
"Well, perhaps, it is a little quick…" she hesitated. "But he comes from such a wonderful family and they seem very happy together."
Paul groaned. "Well, pass on my congratulations, I guess…"
"I will do, honey. So, what's new in your life?"
"Not much…" he said evasively.
"How's work?"
"It's fine. My hours are getting reduced though."
"Why?" she demanded at once.
"They hired some new people. Had to reduce everyone else's hours to make it work."
"Well, that hardly seems to be solving any problems! Are you going to manage alright?"
"It's fine, mum. I'll still make my rent and so long as I can eat and keep warm, it'll be fine."
"Hmm… You know, Paul, if you'd stayed at university—"
"Oh, mum, no. Not this again."
"Well, it's the truth!" she took a deep intake of breath, a sure sign she was about to deliver another of her infamous lectures. "What was it you were doing? Video game design? It might not be as worthy a profession as say… being a doctor or a lawyer… but oh, honey, you would have been wonderful as a lawyer, you know? You were always such a brilliant arguer. But even with those video games, you would always be guaranteed something. People spend so much of their time on those infernal things, so you'd always be employed."
"Uh-huh…"
"It's still not too late to go back to university, darling."
"Mum, I've got a stack of loans already. I don't need any more."
"Well, your father and I would be happy to contribute—"
"Mum, no. I don't want you and dad to pay for me. Because then I'd just owe you and him money. And besides, what university is going to accept a dropout?"
"But—"
"Mum, I really don't want to talk about this!"
His mother let out a heaving sigh. "Fine. But don't think this conversation is over, Paul. Your father and I are going to discuss this."
"I'm twenty-four, Mum. I don't need you and Dad making my decisions for me." He wanted to add "again" to the end of that statement, but thought it best not to push her any further.
"We're not making your decisions for you. We're wanting the best for you. Kathleen's doing so well and Meghan is graduating next year… We want the same success for you."
"No, you want the same success for you…" he muttered, but not loud enough for them to hear it.
"But anyway, darling. What else is new?"
"Not much. I was at the Pokemon Trading Card Championships. I won, again."
"Did you, darling?" she said distractedly. "Which one is that? The Gameboy one?"
"No…" he grimaced. "First off, it's Nintendo 3DS, mother, and secondly, the clue was in the name. The Trading Card Championship."
"Oh, darling, they're all the same to me, you know I don't understand it. I barely understand why people keep Pokemon other than for work, let alone all those silly games."
"Well, at least that's something we do agree on…" he conceded.
"Of course, darling. Well, listen, we better go. Your father and I are going out to dinner in that lovely little five-star restaurant to celebrate Kathleen's news. I think that celebrity chef, what's his name…oh, I can't remember it right now, owns it."
"Is that right? Well, have a good time, then."
"Take care of yourself, darling. I'll talk to you later."
"Bye mum."
He waited for her to hang up and then dropped the phone on the arm of the chair. All of a sudden, he felt exhausted. Talking with his mother always left him feeling drained, especially when there was any mention of anything too personal. His sisters had always concerned themselves with success and ambition whereas he never cared. So long as he was warm, fed and entertained, he was content. Perhaps it was a case of the proverbial 'middle child' syndrome, but his parents had always preferred to encourage and devote time to his sisters.
Alone with his thoughts, he sat still for some time, the television flickering lazily in the background. The buzz of unfamiliar voices wasn't enough to fill the emptiness of the flat. He wanted his DS, to absorb himself in the repetitive, safe actions of chain breeding, but it was hidden under the pillow in his bedroom and the short walk seemed to stretch to a journey of a thousand steps.
His sister was getting married. He supposed it was hardly surprising. She had always received a fair amount of male attention and she was absurdly intelligent, but socially adept enough to mask it. A non-threatening kind of intelligent that appealed to most brands of men. She was a walking success story, one which their parents enjoyed bringing up over wine-filled dinner parties. Perhaps even more so after this. It wouldn't be long before Meghan would follow in her footsteps, qualifying as a high school maths teacher in a matter of months. And where would he be? A dropout with no career prospects, no relationships, and hobbies his parents could barely identify let alone care about.
He hated the effects his family had on him. His life ticked along just fine normally. Unremarkable, but just fine. He had no lofty ambitions but found he never needed those. But now and again, after the inevitable conversation with someone from his family, the reminder of his comparison stung and lingered painfully. He likened it to a papercut – it never seemed to hurt until the attention was drawn to it.
Don't think about it, he chided himself, reaching for his laptop and booting it up. There wasn't much activity on IvyTrain, most of the members were teenagers and with school just starting up again, they didn't have a lot of free time. He browsed through some old posts, researched a little about some rumoured upcoming Pokemon game and played a couple of unexciting matches on PokeMMO. When he checked the time, it was only a little after eleven o'clock. Bored and uninspired, he actually considered going to bed.
Bleep!
He glanced at the top of the screen. 'Inbox(1)' was flashing back at him. He hovered the cursor over the icon.
"One unread message from DestinationOverload"
"Dude, finally!" he cried, sitting up straighter and hammering the button.
"Hey bro, sorry I never replied earlier. Last week's been pretty crazy. You know that great aunt I got down in Azalea Town? Yeah, she died. My mum's quite upset, so we all went up to the house to sort everything out. Then check this. My great aunt had a Smeargle, you know cos her late husband was some famous painter or something? Well, they've been trying to figure out what to do with it cos my aunt didn't want it to just go to a centre or be released since they've been together for like fifteen years or something like that. My great aunt knew I was the only one in the family who was into Pokemon and that, so guess what? She left it to me. You are now talking to a real, bona fide Pokemon trainer!"
"A Smeargle? Dude, I get that you're excited about having a Pokemon and it's pretty cool that it's something as unique as a Smeargle, but it's got the attack stats of an average towel."
"Yeah, it's not the best. Can't even run any cool sets on it, because it just doesn't have the power to use any decent moves. I'm taking it to the breeder's in Azalea sometime tomorrow, have it appraised and whatnot. I've Googled some basic breeders guides and I think it has a Relaxed nature. Considering it spends half the time just sleeping, it sounds about right. Then again, its owner just died so it could just be depressed or something."
"Relaxed nature Smeargle? You've basically crippled its only worthwhile stat. Can't you trade it for a better one?"
"I thought about it. Regular breeders don't deal with Smeargle cos they're so Zubatshit rare, you know? You need to go to a specialist. Besides, mum caught me checking the GTS earlier and gave me an earful about trading away my inheritance."
"Unlucky, bro. So what you gonna do with it?"
"Like I said, I'm bringing it to the breeders to check it over and have it appraised. It's not like Online when you can get all the IVs and the stats in easy values just like that, there's apparently a lot of observation needed and even then they can only give you an estimate of what they think could be their best aspects. I'll probably go and pick up my license for it tomorrow as well."
"You're actually gonna get a license for it? Is it worth it?"
"Dude, I'm pretty sure it's the law, lol."
"No, I mean, is it worth training?"
"Well, who knows? It's not a great starter Pokemon by any means, but hey."
"Whoa, hang on. Starter Pokemon? What do you mean?"
"Yeah, that's another thing, dude. I think I'm gonna take some time out from the forum. Give this whole training thing a shot, see what like."
"So… this is actually happening? Great DestinationOverload is abandoning his fame and fortune and setting out on a Super-Special-Snowflake Super-Inspiring Pokemon Journey? Dude, you've gone soft."
"Dude, one thing I have not gone is soft."
"But your Pokemon is most likely pretty shitty Natured, stats and trained. You don't even know what level it is. Why bother having any Pokemon that hasn't actually got a bit of potential?"
"Arceus, you don't get it. EV training, stats, nature… even battling online, that's all so goddamn easy. Input the values into a machine and it does it all for you. Even in the games, if you've got Synchronize, the Destiny Knot and Everstones, that's it. It's too easy. And it's getting too boring. I'm 25 now, maybe it's time I moved on from the games and got a little reality."
"That doesn't sound like the Dest I know. That sounds like that girlfriend of yours. What, she been telling you to 'grow up' and 'get a life' again? She doesn't understand."
"Hey, don't you dare bring Lily into this. I'm serious, dude. Perfect Pokemon and all that… yeah, that's easy in-game, but not in real life. I wanna try doing this in real life. I'm fed up of staring at a screen all the time."
"Dude, you're making a serious mistake."
"You're just saying that cos you're too much of a coward to do it."
"You take that back!"
"No, I won't take it back! You're always saying that I hide behind my fame and fortune, yet you're even worse than I am! You swan around that forum like you're the authority on every last little thing! You seem to think winning all these contests and competitions is so great, but I got news for you, buddy. It's not. You're just a sad little boy stuck playing with imaginary friends cos you scare off every normal person you go near!"
"You're a real bastard, you know that? I'm not sad and I'm not a coward!"
"Then prove it. Get a Pokemon and get out there. Do it for real."
"Well, if we're gonna do that, how about we make it interesting?"
"I'm listening."
"Well, how about this. First person to find four Pokemon with an Ideal nature and a judge's appraisal on ideal stats. Like, having a Pokemon suited to attack show some physical attribution that shows their attack stat is ideal."
"You're on, pal. Let's meet, say… at Mt Silver in a month, to assess?"
"Mt. Silver? What are you? A walking cliché? Make it somewhere interesting."
"Fine, fine. How about the Lake of Rage?"
"That's more like it."
He turned away from the laptop, mind reeling, when another message popped up on-screen. He grinned to himself, thinking that his friend had just chickened out of the whole thing or had sent back a "Dude, just kidding!" The real message, however, managed to elicit a rare snort from him.
"Bro, you realise we've literally just done a 'Fite me, IRL', right?"
He sat back in his chair and allowed what just happened to wash over him. Panic threatened, ice crystals erupting over his skin. He gripped the desk firmly, his knuckles almost bursting from his hands. What had he just agreed to?
His mind ticked all night, restless and intrusive. His temper, coupled with a definitive competitive streak, had been the doorway to many a problem in the past, but this was perhaps the rashest of them all. A real life Pokemon journey? His skin prickled at the thought. An inestimable amount of time spent trekking through mud, grass and weeds as you looked for Pokemon that might be only passable at best. His opinion was as staunch as it ever was – why go through all that effort and pain on the off chance something might be good? Online and in-game meant that it was all there at the click of a button, or maybe an hour's worth of work. All of the satisfaction and none of the problems. All of the value, and none of the effort. He didn't consider himself a lazy person, not by any standard; just an efficient one.
On the other hand, he was never one to say no to a challenge. And he had noticed a distinct frostiness in DestinationOverload's behaviour towards him ever since he had told him he was going away for the Pokemon Trading Card Championships. Perhaps he was jealous? He seemed to take it as a personal insult when members would come to Paul instead of him for comments or queries or opinions, especially as Dest had been a moderator far longer than Paul had. Perhaps this was his way at getting back at him for all the times he had bested Dest.
If this was the case, perhaps he had better things to do than indulge some jealous little boy. He had work to think about, after all. He couldn't afford to take that much time off.
Unless… there was a way to win the bet with almost no effort on his part?
A wicked smile burst over Paul's face and he cracked his stiff fingers, already confident this would be one more competition win to add to his ever-expanding repertoire.
