Chapter No.50 The Email That Changed Everything

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•••••••••••••••••

Professor Samuel Oak sat at his desk, the light of the lamp casting a soft glow across the room. His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he sighed, staring at the flood of unread emails piling up like a mountain he'd rather avoid climbing. It had been a long day—no, a long week—but he wasn't complaining. He couldn't. Not when he had seen how far Gary had come.

The psychologist's words from earlier that day played on a loop in his mind, offering the kind of reassurance he hadn't known he needed. Decent progress. The words weren't grand or groundbreaking, but after what Gary and his Pokémon had endured at Mt. Moon, decent felt like a small miracle.

Oak leaned back in his chair, cracking his knuckles before rubbing at his tired eyes. His lips curled into a soft, involuntary smile—the kind only a proud grandparent could wear. Gary had fought through nightmares, emotional breakdowns, and moments when the weight of what happened nearly crushed him. But here they were, making strides. One step at a time. Oak had been there every step of the way—not just as a guiding hand, but as a quiet observer, giving Gary the space to grow on his own terms.

In the beginning, things had been harder. Gary had walked into therapy sessions like they were battles, arms crossed, jaw set, as though determined to beat the process into submission. Oak had seen the cracks early, though, in the way his grandson's fingers trembled when he thought no one was looking or how his voice would falter when he spoke about his Pokémon.

They had all been through hell together—Gary, his Wartortle, and his Nidorina—and Oak had made sure they healed together, too. Most of their days were spent outside, training in the large field behind the lab. It wasn't about honing strategies or preparing for battles. It was about rebuilding trust—between Gary and his Pokémon and within himself.

He watched as Nidorina, once so aggressive and defensive, began to soften, often nudging Gary's arm after a successful training session. Wartortle, who had withdrawn into himself after Mt. Moon, had started splashing around playfully again, even spraying Gary with water when the mood struck. Gary, in turn, had learned to treat them like partners, not just tools.

It was a lesson his father, Blue, had learned the hard way.

Oak leaned back in his chair, thinking about those early years when Blue had been cold and obsessed with winning, seeing Pokémon as mere stepping stones toward becoming the Champion. It had taken his rivalry with Red to open his eyes and teach him that there was more to life than winning battles.

Gary had learned that lesson too, but not from a rival.

Mt. Moon had been enough of a wake-up call.

"I wish you could see him now," Oak muttered, glancing at the picture frame sitting on his desk. It was an old photo of Blue back in his glory days as Champion, his trademark smirk frozen in time. Oak's gaze lingered on it, conflicted.

"Your son has grown, Blue. I just hope you'll be around to see it one day."

He exhaled deeply, shaking off the thought before it could weigh him down. Turning back to the computer, he began scrolling through his sea of unread emails—research proposals, invitations to conferences, requests for interviews. It was endless.

One message, however, caught his attention: Urgent: Pewter City Hospital Report.

His breath hitched for a moment, but when he opened the email, relief washed over him. It wasn't bad news, just a follow-up on Gary's progress and his Pokémon's medical checkups. The words were clinical, detached, but the underlying message filled him with warmth. Things were getting better.

Another notification appeared at the corner of the screen: Blue Oak: Status Update.

Oak's fingers froze. For a moment, he debated whether to open it. Did he really want to know where his son was now? Was he still out there, chasing Red and his endless quest for closure?

He clicked it anyway.

No new leads. Investigation ongoing.

Oak shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Sometimes, the old man wondered if raising Gary had been as much about making up for Blue's absence as it had been about giving his grandson the stability he deserved.

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.

"Come in," he called, clearing his throat and straightening his posture.

Gary stepped inside, wearing his usual red jacket but looking far less polished than usual. His hair was messy, dark circles clung beneath his eyes, but there was something else in his expression—a spark of determination that hadn't been there when he first returned from Mt. Moon.

"You're still up?"

"Old habits," Oak said with a chuckle, gesturing for him to sit. "You've been keeping me busy, you know."

"I figured. Did the psychologist say anything good today?"

"They said you're making decent progress," Oak replied. "You've come a long way, Gary. Don't underestimate that."

"...I still get the nightmares."

"I know." Oak resisted the urge to reach out and pull him into a hug. Gary wasn't the type to appreciate gestures like that, at least not openly. They'll take time to fade. But you've been facing them head-on, and that's more than most people can say.

"I think Nidorina knows when I'm having them. She always sleeps right next to me now."

Oak smiled. "She's looking out for you, just like you've always looked out for her. That bond doesn't break easily."

Gary hesitated, his voice softening. "Gramps… do you think Dad's ever coming back?"

The question hit Oak like a weight to the chest, but he didn't let it show. Instead, he offered a warm, reassuring smile. "I don't know, Gary. But I do know that you're not alone. You have Daisy, your friends, and you'll always have me."

"I know. I just… needed to hear it."

Oak stood and placed a hand on Gary's shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. "You're already stronger than you think. The fact that you're here, asking these questions, proves that."

"Thanks, Gramps. I'm gonna check on Wartortle before I head to bed."

"Good idea. He's probably waiting for you."

Gary lingered by the door for a moment, then turned back. "I'm glad you've been here for me. I don't say it much, but I mean it."

"You don't have to say it, Gary. I know."

After he left, Oak sat back down and stared at the open email about Blue.

Maybe one day, his son would stop running long enough to see the remarkable young man Gary had become.

But until then, Oak would be here, making sure Gary had someone to lean on.

•••••••••••••••••

[ An Hour Later ]

Professor Oak let out a tired sigh as he scrolled through the seemingly endless list of unread emails. Most were mundane—requests for research collaborations, updates on grants, reports from field researchers cataloging the biodiversity of various regions. As he opened the most urgent ones, he jotted down a few notes for follow-up.

There was a proposal about cataloging the behavioral differences between regional Tauros variants, a promising field study from Johto on the nocturnal migration patterns of Hoothoot, and an inquiry from the Pokémon League asking him to moderate their next conference panel on Genetic Anomalies in Evolved Pokémon.

He considered that last one before muttering to himself, "They're probably still arguing over the Eeveelution genetic pathways." He sighed, knowing this topic was even more prevalent now with the news of the mysterious evolving—and devolving—Eevee of Mt. Moon.

His cursor hovered over the next email, and his breath hitched slightly when he saw the subject line:

"Ash Ketchum has made a scientific breakthrough."

He stared at the screen, rubbing his eyes just to make sure he wasn't imagining things. Ash? Scientific breakthrough? Was this a prank? His assistant, Jeremy, wasn't one for jokes, but the subject line was absurd enough to make Oak question whether someone had tampered with his inbox.

With a sigh, he clicked on the email, his curiosity outweighing his skepticism.

•••••••••••••••••

Subject: Ash Ketchum's Scientific Discovery

From: Jeremy Ross, Assistant Researcher

Time: 6:32 AM

Dear Professor Oak,

I know you're busy, but you'll want to see this. Early this morning, I received an email from Ash Ketchum—yes, that Ash Ketchum—detailing a hypothesis he's been working on regarding Magikarp and whether it can learn Dragon Rage before evolving into Gyarados. At first, I thought this was a fluke, but after reading through his process and reviewing the evidence he's provided, I believe Ash may have stumbled onto something truly groundbreaking.

He's included a voice recording explaining his hypothesis and a video of his experiment. I've attached everything below. This could change our understanding of how evolutionary biology and move inheritance work in Pokémon.

Best,

Jeremy Ross

•••••••••••••••••

Oak sat back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the wooden armrest. He couldn't help but chuckle.

"Ash, what are you up to now?"

The boy had always been brimming with energy and intuition, but scientific breakthroughs weren't exactly his forte—or so Oak had thought. Still, if his years as a researcher had taught him anything, it was that breakthroughs could come from the most unexpected places.

Science wasn't about who delivered the information—it was about whether the evidence held up.

With a deep breath, he clicked on the attached voice recording.

Ash's voice crackled to life, warm and familiar, with that unmistakable enthusiasm he carried everywhere.

"Hello there, Professor Oak!"

Oak chuckled softly. Ash's greeting was an endearing attempt to mimic his own, though the boy sounded more like a kid on the verge of revealing a big secret.

"I know you might be thinking, 'What's this boy doing pretending to be a scientist?' But trust me, I think I've found something important, and I wanted to share it with you first."

Oak paused the recording, leaning back in his chair and shaking his head in disbelief.

"Of all the people," he murmured with a smile, "Ash Ketchum, thinking like a scientist."

He hadn't expected this, but he reminded himself that science demanded an open mind. And if Ash had taken the time to form a hypothesis and conduct experiments, Oak owed him the courtesy of hearing him out.

He resumed the recording.

"So, I bought a book on the scientific method to help me organize my ideas properly. I figured that if I was going to do this, I needed to do it right."

Oak blinked, genuinely surprised.

"He's using the scientific method? Well, I'll be."

He scribbled a quick note in his notepad: Check Ash's methodology carefully—he's maturing.

"First, here's my hypothesis: Pokémon that evolve into stronger forms with different move sets may have latent biological structures—like vestigial organs—that could allow them to access certain moves before evolving if properly stimulated. In this case, can Magikarp, which evolves into Gyarados, learn Dragon Rage before evolving?"

Oak nodded slowly. Ash had identified a specific question, framed it within a biological context, and tied it to move inheritance mechanics. That was more thought-out than most of the proposals Oak received from graduate students.

"I started by reviewing what we already know. Gyarados can naturally learn Dragon Rage because of an organ called a 'Dragon Core,' located in its whiskers. I found references to this in an old 1940s study from Sinnoh that described Dragon Cores as energy-conducting structures capable of channeling life energy. The study mentioned that in many species, these organs remain dormant or vestigial until triggered by evolution."

Oak raised a brow. He's cross-referencing historical research. Impressive.

"So, I thought, if Magikarp has those same vestigial structures in its whiskers, could they be activated early using external stimuli—like a Technical Machine?"

Ash's voice grew more excited as he continued.

"I used a TM for Dragon Rage and applied it to a Magikarp. The idea was simple: if the TM could 'awaken' the dormant Dragon Core, Magikarp might be able to produce the move without needing to evolve."

Oak paused the recording again, his mind racing. If Ash was right, this could redefine how researchers understood TM compatibility and the biological changes triggered by evolution.

Ash's thinking wasn't just intuitive—it was disruptive.

Oak hit play again, leaning in closer.

"I conducted the experiment at a pool with Misty's help. Here's what happened."

Oak clicked on the attached video file. The camera quality wasn't great—it was clearly recorded using a Pokédex—but he could make out Ash standing by the pool, Misty beside him with an expectant expression.

"Magikarp, use Dragon Rage!" Misty commanded.

The little fish Pokémon's eyes narrowed with surprising determination. It opened its mouth, and, to Oak's astonishment, a red-orange fireball formed and shot across the surface of the water, creating a steaming splash.

Ash turned to the camera, grinning ear to ear. "Well, I think my experiment is a success. Magikarp can indeed learn Dragon Rage. So, Professor, call me when you're free. I want to talk to you about all the stuff I've discovered."

The video ended, leaving Oak sitting there in stunned silence. He hadn't expected this—not from Ash, not from a Magikarp—but here it was, staring him in the face. A boy who once charged headfirst into everything was now approaching problems with thought, research, and experimentation.

Professor Oak sat there in stunned silence, the video still playing in his mind even after the screen had gone dark. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, trembling slightly. He wasn't sure if it was excitement or disbelief—or maybe both. His heart was racing so fast he could feel it pounding in his throat, a sensation he hadn't experienced in years.

The boy had done it. Not only had Ash Ketchum presented a theory that was sound enough to raise eyebrows, but he had also conducted an experiment that proved his idea.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly to steady himself. The implications of this discovery weren't just exciting—they were monumental. His mind raced through the possibilities, the questions tumbling over each other like dominoes.

Why had the TM worked on Magikarp at all? The standard understanding was that TMs worked by transferring move data—memories, if you will—into a Pokémon's brain or nervous system. But Magikarp wasn't supposed to have the mental or physical structures necessary to interpret that data, at least not before evolution.

Was the TM stimulating the vestigial Dragon Core in the Magikarp's whiskers? That could explain why the organ "activated" early, but the question remained: What exactly was the mechanism behind it? Did the TM bypass normal neurological pathways and directly interact with the organ, or did it awaken dormant genetic sequences tied to evolution?

And if this was tied to genetics, then what else could be unlocked in other Pokémon?

Oak leaned forward, jotting down notes as fast as his hand could move. There were so many angles to consider, so many variables to test.

The scientific ramifications were enormous. But beyond the world of labs and research papers, this discovery could change society's perception of Magikarp entirely.

He leaned back in his chair, letting the weight of that realization sink in.

Magikarp had long been seen as the joke of the Pokémon world—weak, helpless, and frustrating to train until it finally evolved into a Gyarados. Trainers often abandoned them out of impatience or frustration, and those who did persist were rewarded with a Gyarados that, more often than not, struggled to control its destructive instincts.

But now?

If Magikarp could use Dragon Rage before evolving, it would be seen as a viable battler in its own right, not just a stepping stone to a stronger form. And if trainers could bond with Magikarp early on—before evolution—maybe they could help prevent the violent, uncontrollable outbursts Gyarados were notorious for.

Fewer abandoned Magikarp meant fewer rampaging Gyarados in the wild.

"This discovery could change everything," Oak whispered to himself. "The battle landscape, the way trainers approach evolution, even how society treats certain Pokémon."

He allowed himself to imagine the chaos this revelation would cause. Gym leaders, tournament organizers, and even the Pokémon League itself would need to reconsider their strategies. Gyarados could become a far more common sight in competitive battles, shaking up the meta entirely. Trainers who once scoffed at Magikarp might now flock to catch them. Specialized Dragon Rage training programs could emerge, and breeders would start refining Magikarp lines to maximize their battle potential.

He let out a breath, shaking his head. "One step at a time, Samuel," he muttered. "First, we need to study this more thoroughly. We'll need controlled experiments, peer-reviewed studies, and proper documentation before we release anything to the public."

His gaze drifted back to the computer screen, and he couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

A ten-year-old had just rocked the foundations of Pokémon biology.

Ash hadn't even been a trainer for half a year, and here he was, making waves that could ripple through the scientific community for decades.

"I don't know if I should call you a prodigy or the luckiest trainer alive," Oak said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Maybe both."

The laugh that escaped him was loud and sudden, filling the quiet of the study.

Fairy-type Pokémon in Kanto, Dragon Rage Magikarp, and now this? Ash was a walking storm of chaos and brilliance, constantly defying expectations in the most spectacular ways.

He glanced at the clock. It was late—too late to call him tonight—but tomorrow, he'd make sure to contact him first thing.

There was too much to discuss.

They would need to plan the next phase of research, conduct follow-up experiments, and collaborate with specialists in the field. Jeremy would help coordinate with the lab, and Oak would reach out to a few trusted colleagues in Sinnoh and Unova.

The last thing they wanted was for this discovery to be dismissed as a fluke or, worse, exploited before they fully understood its implications.

He could already imagine the debates at conferences, the heated discussions over whether this discovery challenged established evolutionary theory or merely expanded upon it. There would be skeptics, of course—there always were—but the evidence was undeniable.

A storm was coming, one that would shake the world of Pokémon research to its core.

And at the eye of that storm was Ash Ketchum, a boy with more heart, intuition, and luck than any scientist Oak had ever known.

"Buckle up, boy," he said softly, closing his notebook. "This is only the beginning."