For whatever reason, they'd decided to put Cassius in the middle of the podium this time. Not that it made much of a difference, considering all three of them were stuck facing the sea of eager reporters in the media pit, but being the head of the table wasn't doing much to calm his nerves.

And hey, to his credit, the session had been going pretty well up until that reporter had opened his mouth. "Cassius, how exactly did you train back in Unova?"

He really hoped he didn't look as scared as he felt. It was such an obvious question to ask—these reporters knew next to nothing about him—that he should have expected this question a lot earlier. Still, that didn't help settle the fright in his stomach that had already been stewing well before this specific moment in time.

"Well," Cassius steeled himself, praying he didn't flub his rehearsed answer. "I, uh, as you all probably know, I'm from Lacunosa, but I went to school in Opelucid. Big battling city, obviously. Seventh gym and Iris aside, there are the remade Battle Houses, the abandoned Route 10, all that stuff. Plenty of sights to learn about battling."

His finger tapped anxiously on the podium. "I was always a little shy growing up. I still kind of am. I never felt comfortable going to the gym, or the old Battle House, or Route 10 back when it was still open. Heck, I couldn't even go and train with the other kids from the Village Bridge nearby when they came out to grind on Route 12. But even at my normal school, people were obsessed with battling, and I'd learn so much just by listening to them. So, when I went back home, I'd sneak off into a private spot north of Lacunosa and train in secret."

"To the Giant Chasm?" The reporter asked.

"No, never that far," Cassius quickly denied. His parents would have killed him if he even thought of going near that death trap. Never mind how unbelievable it sounded for a kid to go train in one of the most dangerous landmarks in Unova. "Just to an empty spot of forest. I'd take notes on what I'd hear in class from other people, or from what I'd see out in public, and just... kinda work on my own thing."

The reporter nodded, looking down to his notes. "Thanks. I ask because we looked through your school's public extracurricular club rosters, and there was never a mention of you joining a battling club or anything adjacent. Is it safe to say you're self-taught, then?"

They'd gone as far as to look through his school's club rosters to see if he was legit? He couldn't keep the very unconvincing stutter out of his voice as the realization set in. "Y-yup. Pretty much." He faked a cough as he finished, to make it sound his stutter had been the result of something in his throat rather than abject fear.

"I see. Thank you." The reporter sat down, and Cassius didn't even have a chance to sigh in relief before another one quickly took his place. "Cassius, you labeled your battling style as 'unconventional' when last we spoke. How did your training in your early years play a part in developing such a style?"

His brain was working overtime. "It was just, uh, you know... a lot of stuff, I guess?" Realizing how stupid his answer sounded, he elaborated. "I mean, I'd take a bunch of aspects or traits I liked from trainers I watched, and see if I could, you know, cook up this unique blend of styles that worked for what I liked to do."

"And are there any specific aspects of different trainers that particularly stand out in your style?"

"Yeah, like..." he blurted out the first name that came to his mind. "Cynthia."

The intrigued look on the reporter's face forced Cassius to face how big his claim was. Cynthia was the rare trainer that transcended the realm of Pokémon battling—everyone knew who she was. She was, by all means, the perfect Pokémon trainer. Saying that he tailored his game after her of all people probably brought about ridiculously high expectations for him.

Winning normally was going to be challenging enough. Winning in a way that made people think he was the second coming of Cynthia was probably impossible. He'd be setting himself up for ridicule.

Even facing the massive hole he'd just dug himself, he wasn't out of the woods yet. "Hey, Cassius," yet another journalist greeted. "So, it sounds like you're firmly in the technician camp, but I'd like to hear from you when it comes to how you go about battling. There aren't a ton of devoted technicians left in major Pokémon battling competition, and even less that have made major names for themselves, so I'd like to know—do you consider yourself one, or are you a different kind of trainer?"

A technician? Like, the guys who fixed TVs and stuff? "Uh..."

"I can answer that," Hop jumped in. "He's definitely got a few technician traits, but I'd personally say that it isn't his main calling. I think he's watched a bit too many Palmer videos." That managed a few laughs from the crowd. They probably thought Cassius' sheepish expression was due to an embarrassing secret being leaked, and not due to not knowing what a Palmer was.

Hop's eyes briefly flickered to him, and Cassius nodded minutely as thanks for the save. He'd have to do something nice for Hop later. He'd saved his bacon more times than he could count by this point.

It'd be weird if he let Hop do all the lifting. And suspicious if he didn't answer a question meant for him specifically. "Uh, in all seriousness, I don't really define myself by one singular style of battle. I kind of like to adapt to fights based on what I know about an opponent." That was a professional-sounding answer, right? Still, he was sure the reporters wouldn't like him copping out of the original question. "I guess if I had to pick something... in most matchups, I like to incorporate the environment into what I do."

There. Something that sounded normal, and also technically not a lie. He had been working on his terrain training for weeks now.

"So a terrain general then," the reporter surmised. "Thanks, Cassius." Only once he had finished speaking did Cassius realize that he technically hadn't needed to answer. He'd already dodged questions about his battle style before—now he'd gone and given a trait of his away that was actually true. He'd been a bit caught up in the moment, but that was hardly an excuse.

He sighed mentally. He'd have to get better at not letting reporters disarm him so easily. Even if they were really good at their jobs.

Between his lamenting, Hop had finished a wrap-up question, and the media session had mercifully ended. Wordlessly, Cassius filed out from the podium and into the adjacent hallway, following Hop and Gloria.

"I think they like me," Hop grinned.

"Yeah, in your dreams maybe," Gloria rolled her eyes. "Figure they're just chuffed that you just give better answers than your brother. Lee always did give shite quotes."

Hop shrugged. "Suppose that's one thing I have him beat in already."

"Though, Lee was only barely worse than a certain eejit behind me." Gloria turned to Cassius. "Was half-afraid you'd blow yourself up. Real bang-up job."

"I got nervous, okay?" Cassius defended himself. "What, you think I expected to be asked about archetypes today? What was I supposed to say?"

"Woulda' thought you'd have given a thought to the type of trainer ya wanna be."

"I haven't thought that far ahead," Cassius admitted. He'd been too busy training himself up to an acceptable battling level to think about what kind of trainer he would be in a few years. "What, do you two already have archetypes?"

"Two-way physical fighter," Hop answered immediately.

"Offensive pacemaster," Gloria added.

It took Cassius a moment to process the words that had just been thrown at him. "Two-way... huh?"

"Lest you forget, we've been training since we were much younger," Hop reminded. "In my case specifically, I've been scouted for a long while. There are a million scouting reports about me online, enough to the point where people can easily figure what trainer I am."

"And that's... a two-way physical fighter?" Cassius hazarded.

Hop beamed with pride. "You betcha. A natural disposition toward Pokémon with high physical stats, who can take damage just as well as they can dish it out. Pretty spot-on, I'd say."

"But how do they even know any of that?" Cassius asked. "I mean, if my memory's right, the only Pokémon you had before Grookey was Wooloo. How were they able to tell that about you from one Pokémon?"

Gloria answered this time. "Highly-scouted junior trainers spend plenty of time in front of scouts. Training camps, junior circuits, under-eighteen competitions—there's plenty of places scouts go to learn about young trainers." She gestured to the two of them. "We've been in just about every major junior training event there is. Given our natural talent, and the fact that Hop's brother eventually became champion, figures that we'd have full dossiers on us by now."

"These events typically lend Pokémon, too," Hop added, answering Cassius' original question. "Some competitions only allow certain types of Pokémon, allowing invitees to borrow some from them or bring their own. Ice-types only, or special attackers only, for example." He paled a bit. "Boy, I remember my last special attack exhibition. That was beyond rough..."

Now that Cassius thought about it, he supposed that not everyone who caught Pokémon bonded with them for life. And it would probably be expensive to catch a Pokémon, train it up, keep it fed and nourished, only to use in one tournament or event before releasing it afterward. Renting Pokémon made sense, then. Weird as it was to think about.

He looked at Gloria. "So you're an... offensive pacemaster," whatever that meant. "You're a two-way physical fighter," he pointed at Hop. "And I'm a..." what had they called him again?

"Terrain General," Hop answered.

Yeah, that. "What does that even mean?"

"Oh, well in simple terms, it means you're—"

"Excuse me!" A voice from down the hall had called. It came in the direction they'd just exited the presser from, so Cassius' first fear was that it was a journalist who had snuck past security and had managed to find them.

Turning toward the voice, he first noticed a lack of a press badge, which was good. That fear was replaced by the absolutely massive hulk of a man that was jogging toward. Though he wore a friendly smile, the sheer size of him was easily enough to put him on edge.

As he came to a stop before the trio, something about the man seemed familiar. He noticed that Gloria and Hop were suddenly frozen in place. They must have felt the same.

It finally clicked right before the stranger opened his mouth, and suddenly Cassius was frozen too. "Heya! I'm sure you already know who I am, but I'm Milo. Could I potentially trouble you three for lunch nearby?"

It made sense that Milo was massive—he ate a ton. Scarfing down his fourth crabcake in as many minutes, he hummed delightfully. "No matter how many times I have this, it's just as good every time. I'm convinced it's magic. Nessa is stubborn about a lot of things, but she was definitely right about jumbo lumps."

Charitably, he offered his fifth to the three teens seated with him. "Care for one? They're delicious, I promise!"

"Ah—I'm good," Hop managed. Gloria and Cassius similarly declined, leaving Milo to shrug and take a bite.

"You kids don't be afraid to order whatever—hrmph—whatever you want now," Milo said between swallowing. "It's on me. I'm certainly not hurting for cash, and it's the least I can do for adding to your already busy schedules."

Cassius took one look at the menu and nearly fainted. The prices were insane. Hadn't Hop suggested they eat here after their battles? Them and what money?

Gloria had taken to looking at the menu as well, apparently willing to take Milo up on his offer. Hop, meanwhile, seemed a bit more hesitant. "Um, Mr. Milo?"

"Please, Milo's just fine. I'm only a few years older than you all anyway."

You certainly wouldn't know so judging by the height disparity. "Right... Milo. Are you sure you should be doing this?"

"I always chow down before a big match," Milo answered casually, moving on to his stuffed shrimp. "Got only one bout today, but it's against that young lady from Spikemuth. Piers' sister, I think. Heard she's tough, so I gotta eat while I can!"

"No, I mean, this." Hop gestured to their table of four. "Like, hanging out with us before a gym battle."

Milo's eyebrow quirked. "Why wouldn't I do this?"

"Is that not, like... not allowed?"

"Not sure why it wouldn't be," Milo shrugged, leaning back into his chair. "I mean, we're just having a quick chat over lunch, right? Nothin' wrong about it."

"I think Hop's more concerned about any rumors that might come about," Gloria piped up. Cassius noticed just how subtle her accent suddenly was. Something she did around new people?

"I wouldn't worry about that," Milo waved off. "I come here often enough. Ownership knows I like privacy every now and again. We won't be listened in on, if that's what you're worried about."

Cassius figured Hop's worry stemmed more from being seen at all, but their position in the restaurant seemed to reinforce Milo's argument. They'd been put up on the second floor of the building, which was free of any other patrons. Given, that might have been because it was a little past noon on a work day, but he supposed that worked out in their favor.

"The way I see it, this has nothin' to do with our battles to come," Milo spoke, dabbing away some crumbs and sauce from his mouth. "It's a friendly first meeting between a local gym leader, and three young, up-and-coming trainers. If you're any bit as talented as Leon says you are, then I'm certain will be seeing plenty of each other beyond this year's circuit. Better to acquaint ourselves now, aye?"

He leaned in a little closer. "Don't worry. I won't intimidate you three into spilling all your battling tips and tricks. I'm only here to give you the proper Turffield welcome, as they say!"

Hop calmed a bit after hearing that. He didn't think for a second that Milo held any ulterior motives (Lee was on the record in saying that Milo was one of the nicest people he'd ever met), but it was nice to know that he took proper precaution in ensuring that they wouldn't be harassed just for eating with him.

Milo moved on. "Anyway, introductions. I'm Milo Yarrow, as I'm sure you're all aware. Turffield's been my home since forever, so you can imagine how much of a dream it is to represent it as it's gym leader! It's very nice to meet all you formally—Leon's told me so much about you three!"

"And same for you," Hop replied, now in a better mood to chat. "Lee's vouched for your character on multiple occasions. Nice to see you're as good a lad as he says!"

"Oh, stop it," Milo grinned. "You two really are brothers. Same penchant for flattery and all. Very nice to meet you, Hop."

Realizing Milo's gaze was on him now, Cassius cleared his throat. "Uh, Cassius Hargreaves. Thanks for paying for lunch." He scrambled for something else to say. "Turffield's lovely, by the way."

"Glad you think so! We may not be big like the other cities, but we do our part." He turned to the last member of the group. "And you must be Gloria, then."

"Mhm," she pointed to something on the menu. "How good's the steamed lobster tail?"

"To die for," Milo answered in stride. "When I'm not eating the Krabbycakes, I'm eating those."

Gloria nodded, thankful for the tip as she turned in her chair. "Waiter? I'm ready to order."

Milo shook his head. "Gosh, you remind me so much of Nessa. I fear for the world when you two inevitably become friends."

He turned to Cassius. "So, you're new in the country, if memory serves. First impressions?"

"Oh, it's—medium well with fries are fine, thank you," Cassius finished giving their waiter his order before turning his full attention to Milo. "It's, well... it's been a lot, but I'm just taking it day by day, I guess. The scenery's cool, though."

Finishing off his shrimp, Milo seemed to be remembering something. "You're from Lacunosa, right? Can't say I've been. How's that?"

"Uh... not much to do," which was maybe the most truthful thing he'd said since he'd gotten to Galar. "It's really just a big retirement town. I guess there's the Chasm, but no one ever really went there." No one who enjoyed living, anyway.

"Mhm," Milo nodded along. "Sounds like the plan was always to take on the Pokémon League, either here or in Unova, eh?"

The plan had been to go to college like a normal person, actually. "Yeah, for sure."

"So then, how goes it?" Milo continued asking. "The challenge, I mean. You went through the Galar Mine, yeah?"

"We did."

"How was it?" Milo seemed excited. "Oh man, I remember my first time going through the mine. It was awesome! Real wonderful way to start your challenge." He laughed good-naturedly. "Though, I imagine Nessa might object otherwise. She was scared to death!"

Cassius' eyes narrowed. With the way Milo was talking about it, it didn't sound like he knew what was going down in the mine. He might have understood, seeing as Milo had been up to his neck in battles since the challenge had gotten underway, but he'd have figured that as the gym leader in the closest town, someone might have thought to tell him.

But then again, the league hadn't really told anyone about what was happening in the mine. What little was being said by the trainers passing through wasn't really being reported, from what he knew. And even though he'd been down there and had a run in with Bede, he himself didn't know what was actually going on.

"It was fine," he settled on saying. He shared a look with Hop, who seemed to be having similar thoughts as he spoke up next. "This might sound weird, but has the league said anything to you recently?"

"The league?" Milo questioned. "Not in particular. They tend to leave me alone during my turn in the circuit—which is probably a good thing, seeing how busy I am." The big man brightened up. "Oh, but when Chairman Rose was here earlier in the month, he seemed pretty chipper, so I'd assume everything is going well!"

Milo reverted back to his curious expression. "Unless it's not? I'd assume that's why you're asking me about them. Is something up?"

"Not particularly," Hop deflected. "We're just so new to this whole thing. We don't know how the league likes to communicate with their trainers."

Milo seemed to buy it. "Ah, I get it. I've been there. It can definitely be a bit confusing, but that's what we have agents for! If there's any important correspondence to be had, it'll be relayed through your agency most of the time, if not all the time."

"While we're on the subject of the league," Gloria chimed in. She'd been apparently occupied by her lobster tail, which had come out in record time. "What's the deal with the Flapple? That the league's doin'?"

"Gloria!" Hop hissed. Cassius wore a similarly petrified expression—he remembered thinking how he didn't want to get himself wrapped up in another conspiracy, and here was Gloria, diving headfirst into it without any thought to the potential repercussions.

In his alarmed state, he almost missed the small sigh from Milo. "So you already figured it out, huh?"

That quickly got the three's attention. Milo wasn't mad? More than that, was Gloria actually right? "We did?" Hop asked, confused.

Milo seemed almost sheepish, looking both ways to ensure they weren't being watched. "Okay, technically I'm not supposed to tell you any of this, but I guess it's pretty obvious anyway, and I think I can trust you three to keep quiet about it. Especially since I believe you three will be mainstays in the professional scene for a good while." He leaned in closer. "I can trust you not to tell anyone, right?"

Cassius probably would have kept quiet on account of him being generous enough to pay for their expensive lunch. It also helped that Milo seemed like a pretty nice guy. "You can," the three agreed unanimously.

Milo sighed in relief before continuing. "Thanks, you three. Anyway... yeah, the league kinda forced my hand this year," he admitted. "I was at the main office in Wyndon for the pre-circuit meeting we have every year before the challenge starts. Pretty standard stuff—more of a chance for me to catch up with all the other gym leaders than anything else. We went over rules, guidelines, expected turnout, the usual, before we all left. Except I got called aside before I could leave."

He frowned. "Basically, I was told that my gym had been too easy in the last two years. Which... I get it, I know my record's not the best, but I was under the impression that was my job! Where would the fun be in demolishing everyone? Pokémon battling is supposed to be fun and exciting for everyone, fans and spectators included! Even if my record wasn't up to what the league thought it should have been, I knew for a fact I was delivering on the excitement and attention that helps to drive this circuit!"

Milo almost seemed to be pleading his case to them. "And the more trainers that beat me, the more matches they can set up for Nessa and Kabu and the rest, which makes the league more money! I figured that'd be in their best interest!" He deflated slightly, and it almost hurt Cassius to see the massive man not look positive and upbeat. "But I guess not."

He elected to pause briefly as a waiter and runner returned with Cassius and Hop's food. He continued after they left. "Sorry, I've only really ranted about this to Nessa over the phone. Guess I've been waiting to get it off my chest in-person," Milo apologized once they were alone again.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Hop offered sincerely.

"Thanks," Milo smiled, regaining a bit of his chipper energy. "I just... I was having fun. And I know the challengers were, too. I'm just a bit lost on why the league wanted to get in the way of a good thing we had going, you know?"

Milo took a quick sip of water. "If nothing else, it was good timing, at least. I caught Flapple as an Applin a little over a year ago. My Appletun's getting up there in age, so my plan was to train Flapple up to eventually take his spot on my Champion Cup squad. As of now, Flapple is roughly the same level of skill as the Pokémon on my circuit team, and I wasn't gonna find any other Pokémon on such short notice, so I had no one else to turn to but him." He rubbed the back of his neck in what looked like embarrassment. "Though, I'm plenty aware that facing a Dragon-type in the first round of the Gym Challenge can be... challenging for some trainers."

Understatement of the year, in Gloria's mind. "And I don't suppose any other gym leaders have been pulled aside for a similar reason?"

If there was any hesitation about revealing potentially sensitive information regarding their future circuit battles, Milo didn't show it. "Don't really know. Nessa didn't seem to share the same problem when I called her about it, and Kabu hasn't mentioned anything like that to me either. I haven't had the time to speak with any of the other gym leaders since the pre-circuit meetings."

While it was an interesting nugget to store in the back of his head, Hop was eager to move in. "Thanks, Milo. Sorry to bother you about all this."

"It's fine! I'm happy to help out the future generation of trainers however I can! Even if it's just explaining how the bureaucracy of the league occasionally works." Milo's smile was infectious, in Hop's mind. They'd seriously lucked out by having such a good guy as their first fight. "And please, don't let the circumstances of this year's circuit affect how you see the league office. I know a lot of the folks there personally, and most of them really do mean well. They want captivating and exciting matches, just like you and I."

He seemed a little embarrassed as he continued. "Really, the attention's just a bit much. I saw something on the tabloids saying Flapple and I are unbeatable this year—hardly! My record is still below .500, even if I've been doing a little better this year."

"I can definitely relate to the media embellishing a bit," Hop related. Cassius and Gloria couldn't help but nod in agreement.

"Comes with the territory, I'm afraid," Milo chuckled, before meeting each of their gazes. "But, in all seriousness, I'm genuinely looking forward to amazing matches with you three. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have these next three days circled on my calendar. I'm so excited to see just how you three were able to impress Leon, and to see what each of you bring to the table." He offered his glass of water for a toast. "To a great few days of battling, win or lose!"

Clinks sounded from around the table, and the three challengers finally got to digging into their food. Cassius gave credit where it was due—the price was definitely worth it. Especially since it wasn't coming out of his pocket.

Food was enjoyed, the bill was paid, and the four prepared to leave. Milo allowed himself a hearty sigh of satisfaction as he stood from the table. "Hits the spot, every time."

"Can say that again," Gloria readily agreed, wiping away what bits of food remained on her mouth. Cassius stared at her from the corner of his eye, a bit awestruck. Her thinner form betrayed her ridiculous appetite. And her arguably worse table manners.

"Oh, here's a thought!" Milo suddenly spoke, an idea coming to him. "I typically come back here after the month is over, to celebrate. You three are more than welcome to join me, if you've got the time and are feeling up for it!" He scratched his cheek a tad shyly. "Well, provided there are no hard feelings, of course."

Hard feelings, and potentially the upending of his entire life as he knew it aside—Cassius wouldn't miss the food here for the world. There was probably even more incentive to agree if he lost, seeing as he'd probably never have the money to eat at a place like this ever again. "Sure, I'd love to," he agreed, perhaps a bit too readily.

"Great! We can all head out when my battle with Cassius is done." The four exited the restaurant, and Milo turned to leave in the opposite direction of their hotel. "Well, wish me luck! Or, uh, don't, if you want Marnie to win I guess!" Despite the slip-up, Milo gave them one last smile as he left. "Again, thanks for indulging me with lunch, and I'm excited for our battles! Hope we can set a good tone tomorrow, Gloria!"

"Bye!" Hop waved, his companions doing the same. After sharing their goodbyes, the three made their own exit, heading back to their temporary lodgings.

"He's nice," Cassius said first.

"Totally," Hop nodded. "I was a bit starstruck when he popped up behind us, but he seems like a really down-to-earth guy!"

Down-to-earth? "Was that a farmer pun?"

"It is now!"

Gloria stared off into the horizon, a somewhat contemplative look on her face. "I'm gonna feel a bit bad for kickin' his arse tomorrow."

"Gloria," Hop deadpanned.

"What? Was a compliment, pure jake!" She argued, and it felt like her accent that she'd been masking came back all at once. "Aye agreeable sort, sure, but ahm not gonnae cock up ta'marrah 'coz ah some bloke thae knows some decent scran!"

That was probably the most indecipherable sentence Cassius had heard Gloria belt out yet. "What did she say?" He asked Hop, leaning over.

"She said that while Milo was nice, and does know some good food, she's not going to purposefully lose her battle tomorrow because of it," Hop clarified. "Also, she called me poor."

What part of that rant of hers was supposed to translate to poor? "Aren't we all poor since we all ate on his dime, anyway?"

"Pure woppers, both of ye," Gloria muttered, though she seemed to have gotten the worst of it out of her system. "I cannae stand this fer seven more cities."

"Don't mind her, she's just a little stressed. I think it's only now just setting in for her, now that she's met her opponent," Hop whispered, though not quietly enough so that she couldn't hear him. "She's always like this before a big fight. I believe the word in her tongue is... crabbit?"

"Ahm nae crabbit, ye pure munter!"

Hop snickered. "Oh yeah, totally crabbit."

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully once they returned to their inn. It was only once Cassius got ready for bed that he saw his phone's first notification since the morning—a call, his phone revealed as it vibrated gently. A quick look at the ID showed it was from Caroline. "Hello?" He greeted upon answering.

"Hey, Cassius," Caroline greeted back, voice clear on the line. "Sorry for the late call. Am I bothering you?"

"No, not at all," he quickly assured. "What's up?"

"Saw your press conference today. Wanted to call earlier, but I've been up to my neck in meetings today." She did sound a little tired, but only barely. "How are you? You and the others doing alright?"

From next door, he could hear Gloria shouting in her room about something. "Where's tae fookin' zapper?" She yelled, as Cassius returned to the call. "Uh, yeah. We're all feeling pretty good, I'd say."

"Good! That's great. The reason I'm calling now is actually to say thanks. You three have been doing a great job on these recent press runs. Social media's all over you, and thankfully, not for saying anything incredibly stupid. Good job!"

That was... flattering, but was that really that much of a compliment? "Oh, uh, sure. It's nothing."

"Oh trust me, it isn't nothing. All it takes is one dumb or insensitive comment to drum up a PR nightmare." Cassius could almost feel the exasperation on Caroline's side of the line. She was speaking from experience, clearly. "But, thanks to all that is good and holy, you three are good kids who don't have god complexes, so I really appreciate it. Makes my job a whole lot easier."

That was owed to his parents and upbringing more than anything else, but he'd take the compliment. "Of course."

"Oh, but real quick. There is one thing I should probably mention," Caroline added. "While I do appreciate your being forthright with the reporters about most everything they ask you about, I just wanna remind you that you don't have to answer every question they throw at you."

Oh boy. "Sorry, did I do something wrong?"

"Oh no no no, you didn't, promise," Caroline quickly dismissed. "There was just something specific to you they asked that got my phone buzzing a bit. You remember near the end of the presser, where you kind of alluded to being a terrain general?"

"I do," Cassius replied after a moment of thinking. Not that he'd ever confirmed that to the reporters, he thought, but he supposed he hadn't denied it either. "What about it?"

"Well, seeing as you're still so new to the scene here in Galar, your brand is kind of a blank canvas at this point. Which is a good thing!" Caroline assured him. "But what that means is that any brand that sees any kind of alignment for a potential deal is gonna be hanging onto your every word."

Alignment? "I'm sorry, can you explain?"

"Sure. So, an example—you're familiar with football right? The worldwide version, not the Unovan version."

The one without the pads and pigskin, sure. "I am."

"What would you most closely associate with them, in terms of brands?"

Cassius had to think on that for a moment. "Uh... cleats, athletic wear... sports drinks?"

"Got 'em all. Footballers wear cleats, and will always wear cleats—so naturally, popular players will sign cleat deals. Athletes need to rehydrate during and after games, so they drink sports drinks—popular athletes get exclusive deals to promote big-name sports drinks." Cassius started to get an idea of what she was talking about as she rattled off examples. "See what I'm getting at?"

"Popular athletes will sign deals with major brands that align with their profession?" Cassius guessed.

"Bingo. It doesn't even have to be based on profession, either—I'm sure you've seen commercials for gaming equipment that features popular athletes that like to play video games in their spare time. Or commercials for car dealerships that have cameos from athletes that play for the city they're located in. They can be based on hobbies, or on location."

Admittedly, this was helpful information, but Cassius wanted to get back to how this related to him. "So, what about the brands here? What got your phone buzzing?"

"When you didn't deny being a terrain general, I got calls from a ton of brands looking to get a deal with you. Brands that would align with you being that type of trainer."

Cassius' brow furrowed. "What brands out there would me being a... terrain general align with?"

Caroline actually laughed. "Lawn care companies, turf brands, environmental activists. You'd be surprised."

Cassius paled a bit. All that from some offshoot label he hadn't bothered denying? "That's... I didn't know that."

"And no one's blaming you for it," Caroline eased. "Granted, a lot of it is just you being so popular at the moment. Honestly, I'm getting calls nearly every day about you and the other two about brand deals you could sign as soon as you're eligible post-third gym. Your presser today just kinda built on top of that."

That was equal parts flattering and overwhelming. "Oh. I'm sorry," he apologized reflexively.

Caroline laughed again. "You're sweet to care about my workload, but don't worry. This is a good thing! I think we'd both prefer too many calls for brand deals than too little."

That was true, Cassius conceded, nodding along as Caroline continued. "I just wanted to remind you that your words carry a lot of weight, now that you're famous. I know you wanna make your own brand last forever, so in order to make sure we get you into deals that are not only lucrative, but highlight your style, interests and beliefs, we need to reflect that in how you carry yourself. And in how you answer—or don't answer—reporters."

"Mhm," Cassius agreed. "I think I get it."

"Glad you do. Please don't think I'm telling you to not answer anything any reporter ever asks you. You three have actually done a good job in answering questions so far. A part of me was debating some basic media training for you all, but with how busy you three are with the circuit, I'm not sure we'd have any time to squeeze it in anyway. And after what I've seen so far, I'm not sure you'd really need it."

That remained to be seen, but he appreciated the confidence she had in them. Though, Gloria might have needed a bit of convincing to come around on what was, in her words, the "goody-goody publicity shit."

"Thanks, Caroline. I'll keep what you said in mind."

"No, thank you, Cassius. You've got a good head on your shoulders, so I know you'll keep up the good work. By the time this year's circuit wraps up, I'll have made your name as big as Leon's." He could feel the confidence in her tone. "And hey, I still promised you a spot in the U.B.L. celebrity game."

Feeling a little better, Cassius managed to laugh a little. "I'm surprised you remembered that."

"It's my job, Cassius. And I'm a woman who doesn't go back on her word." He heard her stand up from wherever she was. "Good chatting with you, and I'm glad to hear you're doing okay. I'll leave you three alone during the days of your battles, so you probably won't be hearing from me until the first of October at the earliest. Best of luck, Cassius."

"Sounds good. Thanks, goodnight." She hung up, Cassius reclining back into his bed. That went reasonably well, he concluded. There were certainly worse outcomes to be expected from having your agent spontaneously call late at night.

Aside from having put his foot in his mouth that one time today, he seemed to be handling the media relatively well so far. That only reinforced his plan going forward—don't say anything stupid. Sure, people might have eventually gotten annoyed if he kept giving boring quotes, but what were they gonna do about it? Like Caroline said, how he did and didn't answer was important. It was his right to choose how much or how little he gave.

Concluding his thoughts on the matter, he thought he'd finally get to sleep before a knock at the door once again took his attention away from his bed. A glance through the peephole revealed Hop in casual wear. Cassius opened the door, nodding to his companion in greeting. "Hey, Hop."

"Heya," he smiled. "Mind if I come in?" Cassius opened the door and stepped aside, Hop letting himself in. He took a seat by the nearby coffee table, stretching as he did so.

"Something up?" Cassius asked. Hop shook his head. "Nah, nothin' really. Just bored. Heard you on the phone when I got near your door, figured I'd let you wrap up your call before botherin' you."

Nice of him to wait. "It wasn't anything super important. Just Caroline checking in. She saw our conference today."

"Oh yeah? What'd she think?"

Cassius shrugged. "We apparently might not need media training."

"That's good!" Hop sighed in relief. "Doubt we'd have time for it anyway. As long as we keep it cordial and don't say anything dumb, I think we'd be okay anyhow, yeah?"

"That's almost literally what she said." And also his exact thoughts on the matter, too. "Oh, but she did mention one thing." Cassius explained the one tidbit Caroline offered him, Hop nodding along as he listened.

"Makes sense," Hop said after Cassius was done. "Guess we can't go tellin' everybody anythin' we want when we're so new to the scene. Can't say I'm a fan of deep-sea diving when I can't swim!"

Was that an actual Galarian saying, or was that a fun fact? "Can you not swim?"

"I can, but I quite dislike the ocean." He shivered a bit. "Terrifyin' place. Did you know that eighty percent of the ocean is currently unexplored?"

Eighty? "Wow. That's a lot."

"Right? And who knows what's all down there."

Cassius tilted his head in thought. "Pokémon, probably."

"Eldritch abominations, more like," Hop shuddered, before laughing a bit. "Maybe I can make that part of my brand. Hop Dande—champion, friend, and unwilling to enter a body of water deeper than five metres."

That actually got a laugh out of him. The joke got him thinking, however. "What would you want your brand to be like? In the future, I mean."

"I dunno," Hop admitted with surprising quickness. "Definitely wouldn't want it to be related to my brother, though. Don't figure that I'd be able to escape the constant comparisons to him if I had the exact same deals, ads, and public image."

That was valid, Cassius thought. Hop quickly turned the query back on him. "What about you?"

Cassius had to think for a moment. "Well... I'm not sure, I guess I'd have to kinda think about—"

A thump next door cut off that train of thought, and the slew of curses from a familiar foul tongue put the entire conversation to rest. Hop laughed, not bothering to translate whatever it was she'd said. "I see she's well-prepared for tomorrow."

Cassius snorted softly, glancing in the direction of Gloria's room next door. "Yeah, she had an outburst or two during my call, too."

"She's probably nervous," Hop gathered, drawing from experience. "I know you won't believe me, but Gloria puts a lot of thought into her battles. Maybe a bit too much. It's part of what makes her so good, I think, but it also makes her a bit crazy leading up to her bouts."

He could believe it. For as nonchalant as Gloria came off, Cassius wasn't stupid enough to believe she got to where she was by coasting along on talent. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't poke fun at her. "You're telling me her normal self wasn't already crazy?"

"Touché," Hop conceded. "Crazier, then."

Her cursing and thumping about in her room finally died down after a moment. Hop eyed the wall with a knowing look. "I make fun of her for it, but I figure we're all pretty nervous. Don't suppose I'll be much better tomorrow night. And something tells me you might be the worst off of us three, when it's your turn."

Cassius' form slumped. "Don't remind me."

"Aye, don't worry," Hop stood up from his seat and patted him on the shoulder. "We'll all be here for you. And more than that, we'll all be rooting for you with everythin' we've got."

Cassius' brow quirked. "Even Gloria?"

"Even Gloria," Hop smiled. "Honestly, I think she's comin' 'round to you, mate. She hasn't gone off on you in any serious way in a good handful of days. Progress!"

"Progress," Cassius cheered half-heartedly. Maybe by the end of the circuit, he'd manage a high-five or a compliment if he was lucky.

"I should go check on her, make sure she actually gets some sleep before tomorrow." Hop opened the door, saluting as he left Cassius' room. "See ya tomorrow, mate. 'Night."

"'Night," Cassius offered, and the door closed. With presumably no more interruptions, he finally crawled into bed and prepared himself for another nice night in an actual bed. He'd certainly enjoy it while he could.

Gloria, nervous. The idea was almost foreign to him. But he supposed even she wasn't beyond one of the most feelings a human could experience. And weren't nerves a good thing, anyway? It drove people to prepare accordingly, or something.

Cassius discarded the thought. Gloria would be fine. She'd more than likely win, and be back to her usual self by this time tomorrow. And so would Hop, after his fight. And hopefully, so would he, when it was all said and done. It was as comforting a thought he could muster as he let himself drift to sleep, anxious over someone he'd never thought to feel anxious for before.

Two apologies—one, for the lengthy delay in this chapter. No excuses this time, should have gotten it out sooner, that's on me. And another apology for my likely very rough implementation of British/Scottish vernacular thus far. If it wasn't already obvious, I'm but a simple-minded American with no in-person sources of knowledge for either dialect's specific slang and customs, and thus my only reference is the internet. It only just hit me now, when I was writing Gloria's little rant, that I should maybe look into a more concrete understanding of Hop and Gloria's respective regional dialects beyond writing down words and quips from The Boys' Billy Butcher. If any of you have any references that could help, that would be greatly appreciated.

Good news—next chapter is already well underway. It certainly won't take three months to upload, that's for sure. And we'll be diving right into Gloria's battle. Here we go, folks.

Thanks for waiting, and for reading. And a very happy 4/20, to all who observe. See you soon.

~Slalem