AN: Pacing may be too fast for you but hey at least I have published a new chapter! For the reasons for why I have been inactive for quite a while is due to school problems, mainly research essays or research papers which are pain in the ass. And most of my writing and priorities have been redirected to my academics unfortunately, though worry not. I will publish new chapters depending how less of an ass my school can be when it comes to assigning us with projects, activities and homework (Also procrastination/laziness). I feel less motivated right now but I still have some juice in me. Also, I enjoy more writing my PMD fic but that doesn't mean I will leave my shameless self-insert to dust lol, trust me, my time trying to be at least a decent writer and being a writer for fun is being screwed over but wont be the end.

Also, I suppose I have to say, "Happy New Year to you all!"

- Genera :D

(I didn't bother to proofread btw)

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon

Ugh, what happened?

As I opened my eyes, everything was blurry. I could hear the steady beeping of some machine—probably a sensor—and the sharp scent of medicine hit me. Sterile. Cold. Yep, I was in a hospital. Must've passed out from exhaustion. My legs still felt sore but much better. At least they weren't screaming in agony anymore.

Huh. That long-ass nap wasn't enough?

How much time had passed since… whatever the hell happened?

As my vision cleared, the shapes around me sharpened. I was definitely lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by white walls and that irritatingly clean smell of disinfectant. A monitor beeped rhythmically beside me—no IVs, just some sensors attached to keep tabs on me. Through the halfway-drawn curtains, sunlight streamed in, enough to tell me it was daytime.

I glanced down at myself. Instead of my usual outfit, I was wearing a white t-shirt and shorts with cyan triangle patterns. Honestly, I looked like someone dressed me for a funeral. What is this? The latest in 'soon-to-be-cremated' fashion? Probably standard patient clothes in this hospital, though.

Band-aid-like patches dotted my legs, and something cold and sticky was plastered to my forehead. I knew better than to pull anything off. Note to self: don't rip stuff off your body when you're in a hospital. Common sense, dude.

A small table next to the bed had a pitcher of water and an unopened plastic container full of papers. A couple of chairs were pushed against the wall, one slightly out of place, like someone had been sitting there recently.

Yep. Definitely a hospital.

I let out a long sigh. "Well… at least I'm not dead."

The door clicked open, and a nurse walked in—not a Nurse Joy, just a regular one. She looked like she was in her late 30s, with brown hair tied into a bun, wearing slightly wrinkled green scrubs. Probably near the end of her shift. She gave the monitor beside me a quick glance, then blinked in surprise when she saw me awake.

"Oh, you're up! Good." She smiled warmly. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore. Like I ran a marathon barefoot." I managed a weak grin. "But I'm alive, so that's something."

She chuckled, pulling a tablet from her pocket to check my vitals. "Good to see you awake. You gave us quite the scare."

I shifted in the bed, wincing slightly as soreness flared up. "So… what exactly happened after the whole Team Rocket thing?"

Her expression softened as she sat in the chair beside me. "You passed out from exhaustion. When the officers arrived, they found you unconscious with the Rocket grunts trying to escape. Medics rushed you here."

"Figures," I muttered. "What about the kid with the Pikachu?"

"They're fine. His name's Ash, right? He was banged up from running into things, but nothing serious. Pikachu's back to full health, thanks to the Pokémon Center."

I exhaled in relief. "Good. And Team Rocket?"

She sighed. "They got away. Took off in their balloon before anyone could stop them."

Of course they did. Those clowns have the luck of gods.

The nurse gave me an amused look. "What you did back there? It's all over the news. People are calling you a hero."

"A hero?" I groaned, rubbing my face. "Hell no."

She grinned. "You saved Ash's Pikachu and stalled Team Rocket long enough for the police to show up. That's not exactly 'laying low.' People are already calling you something like 'The Viridian Guardian.'"

I slumped into the pillows, pulling a hand over my face. "Great. Just what I need—random people calling me a hero."

The nurse laughed lightly. "Well, you didn't exactly make things easy for yourself." She stood and gave my shoulder a gentle pat. "Take it easy. The doctor will check on you soon, but you're recovering well. You should be out of here in no time."

As she reached the door, she turned back, smiling. "And for the record, heroes don't happen by accident."

I gave a half-hearted wave as she left. I wasn't trying to be a hero. I just did what made sense at the time.

But apparently, the world had other plans.

"Curse me," I muttered, earning a chuckle from the nurse as the door clicked shut.

Wait a second—where's Cyndaquil?!

A few minutes later, the doctor came in and peeled off the band-aid-like patches. Turned out, they weren't ordinary band-aids but some sort of advanced healing tech. They'd sped up the recovery of my legs—something I was immensely grateful for. The sticky patch on my forehead had been monitoring my vitals.

How does a forehead patch measure heartbeats? Technology really is getting weird these days. Thank Pokémon research for that, I guess.

After that, the doctor ran a thorough check-up, both physically and mentally. They asked a bunch of questions to see if I had any lingering trauma or mental issues from the Rocket incident. Apparently, I passed with flying colors—aside from, y'know, the tiny lingering grief for my parents. Physically, everything checked out too.

The doctor looked over a file one more time, tapping at his computer with a slight frown, probably work confusion. "Everything looks... good. No issues, physically or mentally."

"Glad to hear it," I said, rolling my shoulders. "So… I'm good to go?"

He nodded. "Yes, the paperwork is done. Your belongings are in a private room so you can change and get ready. If anything feels off later, don't hesitate to contact us."

"Got it. Thanks, Doc."

He offered a hand, and I shook it. "Take care of yourself, kid. You've been through a lot."

"Yeah… tell me about it," I muttered.

A nurse escorted me to the room where my stuff was neatly laid out: bag, Pokéballs, and personal items—all there. But the best part? My signature outfit was clean and ready to wear.

I grinned as I slipped into my sky-blue jacket, white polo shirt, black pants, and sneakers. It felt good—like I was finally back to being myself.

With my bag slung over my shoulder, I stepped out of the room, greeted by two officers. They gave me a nod, and I followed them through the hospital corridors.

The automatic doors hissed open, and the moment I stepped outside, sunlight hit me square in the face. I squinted, raising a hand to block the glare.

And then it happened.

Reporters, photographers, and bystanders swarmed like a pack of hungry Mightyenas. Cameras flashed, microphones were shoved toward me, and a wave of overlapping voices bombarded my ears.

"Are you the boy who fought Team Rocket?"

"Why did you get involved?"

"Are you planning to join the police?"

"Do you think you can take them on yourself?"

That last question made my jaw clench. Who the hell asks a kid something that stupid?

The officers flanked me, forming a barrier as the crowd pressed closer. On the outskirts, some bystanders gave the reporters disgusted looks, as if saying, Really? Harassing a kid?

One of the officers leaned toward me. "Stay close. We'll get you out of here soon."

I nodded, pulling my hand over my head to shield myself from the cameras. I just want to leave without getting dragged into more nonsense.

This is what I get for stopping criminals? Great. Just fucking great.

The officers guided me through the crowd as the reporters kept throwing questions, desperate for any scrap of information. I ignored them, staying silent. Let the police handle it.

This wasn't how I imagined leaving the hospital, but I suppose being popular results to this.

Eventually, we reached a police car waiting nearby. One of the officers opened the door for me. "We'll take you to the Pokémon Center now. Your Cyndaquil is doing just fine."

I let out a small sigh of relief and climbed into the car. Finally, some peace.

As we drove on, I realized we were in the hilly section of the city, northeast of Viridian. I could see the route into Viridian Forest—Route Two, to be exact.

Ash has probably caught his Butterfree by now, I thought. I wonder if my actions caused any changes. Should I even care? They must be in Pewter City by now.

Whatever…

The policeman driving the car started talking. "You're a very brave kid, but don't pull that stunt again. We don't want any bright, shining kids going out too soon."

His tone was serious. "Uh, yeah, I won't." No promises, I thought. Being friends with Ash is just asking for trouble.

As we pulled up to the Pokémon Center, the building looked… well, rough, to put it mildly. The officers and I walked in, and the aftermath of my fight with James was still obvious, though the floor had been cleared of debris.

Scorch marks stretched across the tiles where attacks had landed. The desk near the entrance was cracked and leaning, almost unrecognizable from the damage. Sunlight poured through the shattered glass ceiling, casting broken patterns across the floor, while the jagged remains of the windows let in a comfortable breeze.

I could feel the eyes of a few Nurse Joys and visitors lingering on me as we entered. Some looked stunned, probably recognizing me from the news. Others looked thankful, and some were whispering, clearly gossiping.

One of the officers nudged me forward. "Let's get you your Pokémon, then you're free to go."

I nodded, doing my best to ignore the growing embarrassment as I walked up to the front desk—or what was left of it. A Nurse Joy with a tired smile nodded at me and handed over my Pokéball, though her gaze flickered to the broken parts of the Center.

"Good to see you're on your feet," she said, a hint of humor in her voice. She looked relieved, though maybe just a little exasperated. "But take it easy on the furniture next time, young hero."

"Right, sorry," I mumbled, glancing around at the mess. "I'll… try."

I released Cyndaquil from his Pokéball. He sniffed the air, then turned and spotted me, instantly jumping up to hug my neck.

"Big bro! You're back!" he said, hugging me tight, almost choking me.

I patted his head and gently placed him on my left shoulder. "I missed you, bud, but damn, you were choking me!" I laughed.

"Oh, um… sorry…" he said, looking embarrassed.

"Ahem." Nurse Joy interrupted our reunion. "Before you go, your friends left something for you."

She led me down a hallway to the Pokémon Center's cafeteria, where a small, neatly wrapped box sat on one of the tables. She gestured to it with a smile, and I walked over, a mix of curiosity and caution brewing inside me.

Undoing the ribbon and lifting the lid, I found… bananas and a packaged chocolate juice. I blinked, taking in the sight of the random snacks.

"Uhhh… thanks, Ash," I muttered, barely holding back a grin. Only he would think this was the perfect recovery gift.

Nurse Joy couldn't hold back her laughter, her soft chuckle filling the room. Her amusement caught the attention of a nearby Chansey, who waddled over to see what was so funny. When Chansey peeked into the box, his eyes widened before he broke out in laughter at the simplicity of the "gift."

Shaking my head, I sighed, grinning despite myself. "Of course, Ash would go for something like this," I said, half-joking.

Chansey gave me a friendly pat on the back. "You're lucky to have friends like that." And, as much as I wanted to pretend I couldn't understand tempted I rolled my eyes, I couldn't disagree.

Cyndaquil giggled and nodded in agreement. "He's an awesome friend, big bro!"

I looked back at the contents of the box and noticed a piece of paper under the bananas, folded. Picking it up, I unfolded it and started to read.

Sorry for leaving you behind, Genera. This angry girl named Misty kept insisting I continue my journey to pay her back for her bike, and I couldn't argue with her. We tried to visit you in the hospital, but the doctors wouldn't let us see you, I guess it's for your safety. Anyway, thanks for protecting us! This is the best I can give you I'm not rich, so forgive me. I hope you catch up with us!

– Ash Ketchum =D

I snorted at the smiley face at the end of the letter, feeling oddly touched. For all the trouble he caused, he was surprisingly kind and polite. Miss Delia really raised him right.

"Nurse Joy, can I call someone in the computer section in the lobby? Assuming I didn't… break them" I rubbed my neck in embarrassment.

Nurse Joy looked amused and nodded. "Go ahead. They're still working. The mess is mostly cleaned up now."

After placing the banana inside my bag, I bowed to Nurse Joy, who chuckled and said there was no need to be formal.

In the lobby, I immediately went to the computer and called Mrs. Gardner.

Surprisingly, she picked up right away, and not only that—Professor Oak was there too!

"Genera! Thank Ho-Oh you're okay!" she said, her face appearing on the screen, eyes full of concern. "I saw the news, Genera! What were you thinking?!"

Behind her, Professor Oak gently placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down. "Ahh, let's maybe save some of this discussion for later. Genera, please don't scare us like that again."

I blinked in surprise. Wait… they're both in the lab?

"Sorry," I said sheepishly. "I had to help everyone—especially Ash—get out of danger. His Pikachu wasn't in good shape, and I had to buy them time to escape."

Mrs. Gardner's expression softened, a small, proud smile replacing her worry. "You're a young hero, that's for sure. But please, don't go stepping into battles with Team Rocket again. They're dangerous!"

"Indeed," Professor Oak nodded. "Anyway, I was discussing your encounter with Mrs. Gardner…" He gave me a wink, a glint of pride in his eye.

Mrs. Gardner shook her head, smiling. "You must have been blessed by Ho-Oh! No wonder you made it through against Team Rocket. But really, Genera, there's a lot ahead of you. You have a bright future—and a long life. Don't throw it away."

"I know, I know," I sighed, smiling a bit despite myself. "You both keep telling me that. But… why's Mrs. Gardner in your lab, Professor?"

Professor Oak chuckled. "Well, actually, we were just about to call you. Hoping to check in, see how you're feeling, and maybe ask if you'd be up for a little something…"

Mrs. Gardner nodded. "We were both concerned when we heard you'd woken up and immediately left the hospital. As you can imagine, I was a bit shocked when I found out about… well, your encounter."

I rubbed the back of my neck, grinning sheepishly. "Heh… yeah, I get it. But as you can see, I'm perfectly fine. Right, Cyndaquil?"

Cyndaquil cheered. "Yeah! We won!"

I grinned and ruffled his fur. "Yeah, Cyndaquil. We really did."

Professor Oak smiled warmly. "It's always nice to see the bond between a trainer and their Pokémon. But, on another note… let's talk about something else, Genera."

Mrs. Gardner's expression brightened. "Yes, we left a little data package for you in the Viridian Bank, whatever that is. Don't worry; Professor Oak set it up so you'll just need to get your trainer card scanned to access it."

I blinked, trying to remember our earlier conversation. "Is this the twenty thousand Pokédollars you mentioned before?"

Professor Oak chuckled, eyes twinkling. "Ah, no… it's a little more than that. It's actually a surprise. You'll see soon enough. But I think we've kept you long enough."

Mrs. Gardner nodded. "Right, you have a journey to focus on! Go take on those gyms, make us proud! Whatever path you choose, we're here to support you."

I swallowed, feeling my throat tighten as I tried to hold back tears. "Thank you… both of you."

The screen went dark, ending the call, and I sat there for a moment, taking it all in.

I wonder what the surprise is. Can't wait!

"We're here," I said as I took in the exterior of the bank.

"Woah," Cyndaquil marveled at the glowing, color-changing lights inside. For a Pokémon, he'd probably never seen LED lights before.

"Well, let's head in," I said.

Inside, a security guard checked us for anything dangerous or illegal but found nothing.

"You're good to go, kid," the guard said.

I nodded, heading further into the building. The interior was impressive, with carved pillars that seemed like they were imitating the Viridian City Gym, more like Roman architecture.

"Ah, you must be Genera," someone said behind me.

I turned to see a man in his thirties, dressed in a black suit. Businessman? Politician?

"Oh, um, hi, sir. I'm here for something Professor Oak told me to pick up," I said, introducing myself.

"I know, young man. Professor Oak told me to give you this data package! Oh, my apologies—I haven't introduced myself. I'm Mayor Henry of Viridian City. Nice to meet you, young man."

Ah, a politician, then. He seemed friendly. "Uh, nice to meet you, Mayor," I replied, awkwardly bowing as he chuckled.

"No need for formalities, young man. I'm sure the hero of Viridian is eager to get his data package."

I rubbed the back of my head, embarrassed. "Uh, I'm not in a rush, Mayor."

"Feel free to call me Henry. Hold on, I'll get the package for you," he said, rushing off.

I looked at Cyndaquil, amused.

"What's up with him, big bro?" he asked.

"No idea," I replied.

The mayor soon returned with a small rectangular box, a bit larger than my palm. "Now follow me, young man."

He led me back to the bank's lobby and began explaining. "This is the trainer license upgrade."

Curious, I asked, "What does it do?"

"It upgrades your trainer card, allowing you to field eight Pokémon. Not that it'll matter much in battles, which max out at six versus six, but it gives you more options," he explained.

We sat in the soft chairs as he set the package on the glass table. "See this?" he said, pointing to a narrow slot. "You'll insert your Pokédex here to update it with new software, extra funds, a fully updated Pokédex, and more."

I was in awe, while Cyndaquil looked lost, clearly not following a word.

The mayor smiled at me. "Alright, if you could hand over your trainer card, we'll get it upgraded."

I passed him my card, and he inserted it into the slot on the machine. Lights flickered, and the machine hummed softly.

"This won't take long," he assured me. "Once finished, you'll be able to field up to eight Pokémon—a rare privilege."

Watching the lights, I felt a rush of excitement. Eight Pokémon would give me so much more flexibility.

After a few seconds, the machine beeped. The mayor removed my card, which now had a faint golden tint on the edges, and handed it back with a satisfied smile.

"Congratulations, Genera, you're now a bright young researcher!" he said. "With this upgrade, not only can you carry more Pokémon, but your trainer status is now recognized at a higher level."

I looked down at the upgraded card, speechless. "Thank you, Mayor—uh, I mean, Henry."

He chuckled. "No problem, young man. You've earned it. Professor Oak wouldn't have sent you here otherwise."

I glanced at Cyndaquil, who tilted his head at the shiny card. "So… does that mean we get more friends?" he asked.

"Looks like it, little buddy," I said, grinning.

Henry watched us, amused. "One more thing, Genera. Just remember, you're one of the few trainers with a team this size. Use it wisely."

I nodded, feeling the weight of the responsibility.

"Now, time for the Pokédex."

I handed him my Pokédex, and he inserted it into the slot. The machine hummed and beeped as it applied the updates.

As it left the slot, the screen turned on itself, now showing updated software as it loaded up, as it finished, it started listing the new additions of the Pokédex, improved map services, and even a function suggesting diet plans for my Pokémon.

Then, at the bottom of the screen, a number appeared, ticking up fast: 500,000 Pokédollars.

My jaw nearly hit the floor. "No freakin' way… 500,000?" I muttered, staring at the Pokédex in shock.

Even the mayor's eyes widened, but he quickly composed himself and laughed. "Looks like Professor Oak has some serious faith in you, young man! Or maybe he expects you to burn through a small fortune on your journey."

I looked at Cyndaquil, who seemed even more lost, his mouth forming a little "o."

"This is… insane!" I said, still processing it. "I could buy half the Poké Marts with this!"

The mayor chuckled again, clearly enjoying my reaction. "Well, Genera, you're in a unique position. Not every trainer gets this. Make sure to use it wisely."

I shook my head, half in shock, half in gratitude. "I'll do my best. Professor Oak… he really didn't have to do this."

The mayor patted my shoulder, his expression softening. "Consider it an investment in the future. You're already making waves, kid. I think the professor sees that."

"I guess so," I said with a sheepish laugh.

"Well, I wanted to give you a gift too," he added with a nervous laugh. "You're definitely getting special treatment, young man."

I broke a slight sweat, feeling like a spoiled kid. "What is it?"

He reached into his pocket and handed me a card. "Here, a Northward discount card."

My mouth dropped open again. Northward sells high-quality accessories and equipment for trainers—even premium bikes! Durable, but probably not Pikachu-proof like Misty's bike.

"I believe we've spent enough time here. After all, a hero deserves rewards. Too bad Gym Leader Giovanni isn't here—busy life of a Gym Leader, I suppose."

I frowned slightly at his mention, though I quickly forced a smile. "Thank you so much, Mayor—uh, I mean, Henry."

He chuckled. "No big deal. You've got a bright future ahead of you. I wish you the best of luck!"

"Really, thank you, Henry. I can't thank you enough."

"Just doing my job. Well, it's time for you two to go."

"Alright, Cyndaquil, let's head out," I said, giving him a gentle pat on the head.

"Yay!" he cheered.

Placing my trainer card and Pokédex to their secured places, inside pocket and bag, we headed out for...

Shopping!

Walking towards the nearest Pokémart was quite enjoyable. The people were nice, and the view of the skyline was great. We were pretty close to our destination, and both Cyndaquil and I talked about becoming legends ourselves—a team full of powerhouses. Mmm… It makes me drool just imagining my future team.

"We arrived, Cyndaquil," I said, shaking my shoulder to stop his distraction.

"Is this the Pokémart you talked about, big bro?" he asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

"Yep," I replied as I stepped inside and was greeted by a cold breeze from the air conditioning. It felt great against my sweaty skin, cooling me off instantly. "Ahh, feels nice. Now, let's look for some food for my future team."

"Okay."

On the list: a damn bike (they're real expensive, but this discount card gives me 60% off—a massive steal. I really wonder how Mayor Henry got this. Did he ask Northwards for a favor?), pokéchow and berries (generalized pokéchow for now, since I don't have a complete team yet; buying all types without knowing their preferences would be stupid), and some unique-looking Pokéballs. Oh, and TMs, for versatility and convenience in battles or any situation.

But first—items, then the bike.

"So, what are we buying first, big bro?" Cyndaquil asked.

"Let's start with the berries," I said, scanning the aisles for the colorful displays that always screamed "fresh produce." Pokémarts always had this distinct smell in the berry section—a mix of sweetness, tanginess, and earthy undertones. It felt like walking into a garden.

Cyndaquil perked up immediately. "Berries first? Do I get to try some?" His eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Of course," I replied, chuckling. "You will be the first taste them all out. We'll figure out what your favorites are."

We walked over to the shelves lined with neatly organized berries. Oran berries came in bright blue containers, Pecha berries in soft pink ones, and Sitrus berries in deep yellow. There were others too: spicy Tamato berries, sour Grepa berries, and bitter Aguav berries. Some of these I'd never even seen in person before.

I grabbed a small basket and started loading it with the essentials. "Alright, we'll take the basics—Oran, Pecha, Sitrus—and these berries I have never seen before, for now. But let's add a few others to see if you're into something unique."

Cyndaquil sniffed the air as I picked out a few Tamato berries. "That smells spicy! I think I might like that one."

"Figured as much. You're a Fire type, so spicy seems like a safe bet." I added a few more spicy berries, like Cheri and Roseli, into the basket. Then I grabbed some sweeter ones—Custap, Mago, and Watmel—for balance.

"What about those green ones? They look weird," Cyndaquil pointed at the Aspear berries, their pale green skin standing out against the rest.

"Weird, huh? They're good for curing freezing. You might not need them, but who knows? Maybe you'll surprise me and like the taste." I threw a couple in the basket anyway.

By the time we were done, the basket was halfway filled with medium-sized plastic packages, just enough to fit in my bag. I could already imagine the cashier giving me a weird look. Who buys this many berries at once? Someone on a mission, that's who.

"Alright, let's check these out. But no tasting yet—we've still got other things to buy," I said as we headed for the checkout.

"Aww, come on!" Cyndaquil whined, but the teasing grin on his face gave him away. He was just excited to try them, and honestly, I couldn't blame him.

"Patience, buddy," I said with a laugh. "After we finish up here, we'll do some experimenting to find out which ones you love, hate, and which we can use for the rest of the team later."

"Fine," he sighed dramatically, though his tail flame flickered with amusement.

With the basket in hand, we moved on to the other aisles. Next up: generalized pokéchow, then TMs, and finally the big-ticket item—the bike. This shopping trip was just getting started.

The next aisle was lined with bags, boxes, and tubs of pokéchow, each boasting colorful designs and bold claims on their packaging. Some focused on specific Pokémon types, while others were general-purpose blends. The variety was overwhelming, to say the least.

"Alright, Cyndaquil, let's see what we're working with here," I said, stepping up to one of the shelves.

The first brand I noticed was FlareFuel: For Fire Pokémon That Burn Brighter! The bag was bright red, with a cartoonish Charizard breathing flames across the front. Beneath the slogan, it added, 'Unleash the inferno within!'

I smirked. "Unleash the inferno? Really? That's so cheesy it could've come from a bad action movie."

Cyndaquil craned his neck to look in curiosity. "I think it's cool! Maybe we should try that one and what's a movie?"

"I'll explain later what a movie is and maybe," I said, though I doubted I'd go for something so… theatrical.

Next to it was HydroBites: Keep Your Water Pokémon Flowing Strong! The bag was blue and had a Lapras elegantly swimming under a rainbow. Its tagline read, 'The tide of victory begins here!'

"Yeah, no. Too much drama for a bag of kibble," I muttered. "Also, unless you secretly shoot water from your back, this isn't for you."

Cyndaquil snorted in laughter. "What's next, food that promises to make me glow?"

"Well, funny you should mention that," I said, pointing to a bag labeled RadiantGrub: For Pokémon Who Shine! It was a metallic gold package featuring an Ampharos standing under a spotlight, its light bulb tail glowing. The tagline was, 'Brilliance in every bite!'

"Okay, that one takes the crown for cringe," I said, laughing. "Who comes up with this stuff?"

"I dunno, but I like the Ampharos!" Cyndaquil replied, still giggling.

The pokechow aisle was a mix of practicality and absurdity, but I managed to settle on the general-purpose AllBreed Bites. With a medium-sized bag in the cart, it was time to move on to the TMs—the next big-ticket item on the list.

"Big bro, what are these?" Cyndaquil asked, tilting his head at the glowing discs neatly lined up in glass cases.

"These are TMs," I said, leaning down to point at the small descriptions beneath each one. "They teach Pokémon new moves instantly—no training needed, though you still need to master it. Still pretty cool, huh?"

Cyndaquil's eyes widened. "Whoa, that sounds awesome! Can I learn something?"

I chuckled. "Let's see what we've got first. These things aren't cheap."

I scanned the display, quickly realizing that my earlier comment about TMs being expensive was a massive understatement. Each one had a glowing tag showing its price, and they weren't messing around. Protect: 30,000 Poké. Light Screen: 30,000 Poké. Will-O-Wisp: 50,000 Poké. And these were some of the more affordable options—other moves like Hyper Beam or Earthquake were easily double or triple that price.

I winced. "Yikes. These prices are ridiculous."

Cyndaquil glanced at me. "Are they that bad?"

"Oh, they're bad," I muttered, doing quick math in my head. Even with the 507,432 Poké I had, dropping this much on just a few TMs was going to sting. Sure, I could afford it, but it wasn't exactly sustainable and the greedy part of me screamed.

Then I thought about Gary. The smug fucking bastard had bought tons of TMs in the anime, using his grandfather's mountain of wealth to his advantage, stacking his Pokémon's movesets to crush his opponents that may be more skilled but lacked the moves to counter a specific move or strategy. That habit of spending of his makes me jealous. "No wonder Gary was such a money-draining monster. He bought these things like they were candy."

Cyndaquil, not understanding anything, asked, "Does that make him bad?"

"Oh, he is," I said with a sigh. "And now I know why he had such an advantage. Buying all these TMs gives you a ridiculous edge in battles."

After a moment of contemplation, I decided to be strategic. If I was going to spend this much, I had to pick moves that were versatile and worth every Poké. I tapped the screen to make my selections.

"Alright, first up: Protect. A solid defensive move that can buy time or block an opponent's strategy." I confirmed the purchase, and the glass case unlocked with a soft beep. A small robotic arm slid the TM into a tray, and I picked it up.

"Next: Light Screen. Great for reducing damage from special attacks. This'll come in handy for team defense." Another beep, another 30,000 Poké gone.

Finally, I hovered over my last choice: Will-O-Wisp. The glowing description read, 'Engulf your opponent in flames that sap their strength over time.' It wasn't just flashy—it was tactical, perfect for crippling physical attackers. I sighed as I hit the button, watching another 50,000 Poké drain from my funds.

With all three TMs in hand, I glanced at the total on my receipt: 110,000 Poké. "Damn," I muttered. "That's… a lot. And I thought I was loaded." I glanced further at the receipt to see, 'Please show the receipt to the cashier to confirm legitimacy of purchase.'

Must be because of the fact that the purchasing system got bypassed a few months ago by organized crime. First, some criminals would go to the store to 'buy,' then another group from a different location hacked into the purchasing system to make the items free. The criminals would then take them and escape with their Pokémon that could teleport.

Though, I wasn't sure how showing the receipt to the cashier could help when criminals could still teleport away with stolen goods. Did they actually fix the security breach? A thought for another day.

Cyndaquil looked up at me, his flame flickering. "Are we broke now?"

I laughed. "Not even close, but this definitely puts a dent in my wallet. From now on, we're being careful with our spending. TMs are awesome, but they're also massive money-suckers."

As I tucked the TMs into my bag, I made a mental note to budget more carefully moving forward. Sure, I still had plenty of Poké left, but if I wasn't smart about it, I'd end up a brokie. If only I had the infinite money supply like Gary, I would have spent it with no care but I suppose that is enough spoilery for me.

"Alright, buddy, let's move on. The bike's next on the list," I said, ruffling Cyndaquil's head.

"Can I ride it with you?" he asked, his tail flicking with excitement.

"We'll see," I said with a grin. "First, let's see if we can afford it after all this."

And with that, we left the TM section, my wallet significantly lighter and my resolve to outsmart Gary's dickass massive spending soaring high.

I walked up to the cashier, holding the receipt and the case with the TMs snugly inside. The counter was sleek and high-tech, with a scanner embedded into the surface.

"Good morning! Confirming a TM purchase?" the clerk asked, her tone polite but brisk.

"Yeah," I said, handing over the receipt.

She took it, scanned it across the device, and the TM case in my hands emitted a soft click as it unlocked. Carefully, I opened the lid to reveal the glowing discs inside. Each one had a faint, hypnotic glow, as if holding a piece of raw power in my hands.

"That's pretty cool," I said, genuinely impressed. "The case locks until you confirm the purchase?"

"That's right," the clerk replied with a small smile. "It's a new security measure. We implemented it after the string of TM thefts a few months ago. Even if someone steals the case, the TMs won't activate unless it's purchased legitimately and unlocked like this."

I nodded, though my thoughts immediately went to how criminals might bypass it anyway. Forcing the case open seemed like an obvious workaround, but I didn't voice it. Maybe they had a countermeasure for that too—or maybe they didn't. Either way, not my problem.

"Thanks," I said, tucking the TM case into my bag.

"Anything else today?" the clerk asked, looking expectantly at the items I was carrying.

"Yeah, these," I replied, placing a box of assorted berries and a bag of Pokéchow on the counter.

The berries were neatly packed in small containers, with labels indicating they were fresh. The Pokéchow, while a basic brand, looked decent enough to cover Cyndaquil's meals and my potential future teammates for a while.

For a moment, I was distracted by the X500 Northward bike I'd seen in advertisements on TV. I couldn't help but drool at the thought of riding it. Cyndaquil, of course, slapped me on the head to snap me out of it and laughed at my expense. Not funny.

The clerk finished scanning the items, and the total came up: 17,000 Poké.

"Wait a second," I said, stopping the clerk from finalizing the transaction. "I just realized I should grab something else. Give me a moment."

The clerk nodded, looking slightly impatient but polite. "Take your time."

I quickly headed toward the drinks section. I wasn't about to leave without stocking up on my favorite drinks—nothing like an energy boost on the road, especially when exploring or training. As I scanned the shelves, I could already taste the cold, refreshing citrus fizz. Just as I grabbed a few bottles and started heading back to the counter, a loud boom shook the store.

The sound of shattering glass and distant screams made me freeze in my tracks. What the hell was that? My heart pounded as another explosion echoed through the building. Dropping the drinks back onto the shelf, I sprinted toward the cashier.

When I arrived, the scene hit me like a punch to the gut. The sleek display area near the bike section was now shrouded in smoke and littered with debris. Busted metal frames and shattered glass covered the floor, and the centerpiece—the X500 Northward bike I'd been eyeing earlier—was nothing more than a heap of destroyed parts.

Behind the counter, the clerk was cowering as three thugs—definitely not Team Rocket, just a bunch of opportunistic robbers—ransacked the store. They were dressed in plain dark clothes, wearing ski masks that obscured their faces. One of them held a baseball bat, while the others carried what looked like cheap homemade explosives. All three had only one Pokéball on their belts.

Convenient, I guess, I thought bitterly.

My stomach twisted when I noticed what was in their hands: my TMs. The glowing discs that had cost me 110,000 Poké were now clutched tightly by the guy with the bat, who was barking orders at his accomplices.

"Grab everything useful and let's move!" he barked.

Another thug smashed a display case filled with Potions, stuffing as many as he could into a bag. The third one was busy threatening customers and staff, making sure no one tried to interfere.

I clenched my fists, anger bubbling up inside me. 110,000 Poké down the drain in a matter of minutes, not to mention the bike I'd been considering was completely destroyed. My chest tightened as I struggled to keep calm. Think, Genera. You can't just charge in. These guys have explosives.

I glanced at Cyndaquil, who had hopped onto my shoulder, his flames flickering nervously. "Stay calm, buddy," I whispered. "We'll figure this out."

"Bi-big bro, are you sure about this?" Cyndaquil asked nervously.

I didn't reply as I was too pissed off. Those TMs weren't just expensive—they were mine, and I wasn't about to let these assholes walk out with them. Still, I needed a plan. One wrong move, and this could get ugly fast.

Suddenly, I remembered something from earlier today.

"You're a very brave kid, but don't pull that stunt again. We don't want any bright, shining kids going out too soon."

Sorry, officer. I'm about to get myself in trouble again. I took a deep breath and looked at my partner. "Cyndaquil, listen carefully."

Information for my memory issues:

Name: Genera Jenson

Age: 10

Birthday: April 13

Money: 397,432 (110k on TMs spent but his purchase on other items was not finalized due to the robbers interrupting)

Pokemon: 1/8 (Now a roaming Researcher)

Cyndaquil - Tackle, Ember, Smokescreen, Quick Attack

AN: Oh my, trouble seems to be brewing in this chapter. I wonder what will happen next in the new chapter...

Anyway, hopefully my dear readers that this chapter is satisfactory and well... Ignore any errors you have seen but at least mention it to me.

Me when sleep deprivation

?: Took you long enough

Author: School fella

?: Surely commiting arson or shooting will fix that?

Author: Too bad, I still have a functioning sense of humanity and morals in me

?: This is way more logical trust me

Author: I am logical and I am a mentally stable human being

?: Doubt it

Author: Real