Chapter 14

"Actually, it would be even better if we replaced the Exotic Powder with Breeze Grass. If we use Exotic Powder as a supplementary material, Breeze Grass can..."

"No, in that case, although Breeze Grass can stimulate the effects of Shining Grass more effectively, for Combusken..."

"Then have you considered using Starlight Grass? It's more expensive, but it's a variant of Shining Grass. Its effects are nearly identical, and..."

"If that's the case, it's not impossible, but the auxiliary materials will need to be adjusted…"

"What about Star Mushrooms..."

The two of them became completely engrossed in their discussion. For the most part, Tetsuya did the talking while Brock listened intently.

As a prodigious learner with an analytical mind, Tetsuya had surpassed Brock in certain areas of study. However, Brock's extensive knowledge as the heir to Pewter Gym provided valuable insights.

Tetsuya had a deep understanding of ingredient interactions, thanks to Zero's database. But Zero's knowledge was based on existing research, and many rare materials had hidden properties that weren't publicly documented.

Over the years, Tetsuya had painstakingly uncovered some of these details through trial and study. But Brock, with his background in Gym leadership and Pokémon breeding, had access to specialized knowledge far beyond what Tetsuya had encountered.

Through their discussion, Brock introduced several ingredients and methods Tetsuya had never considered—potentially increasing his resource efficiency and improving his Pokémon training even further.

They spoke non-stop for nearly three hours, only realizing the time when they noticed the restaurant was nearly empty.

Brock laughed, shaking his head. "Man, Tetsuya, you've got an insane grasp of material reactions. Your potion formulas are near-perfect—though they seem tailor-made for your Pokémon rather than being universally applicable."

Tetsuya chuckled. "There's still a lot I don't know."

Realizing how late it had gotten, Brock stood up. "I should head back. Let's add each other as friends. I'm free tomorrow, so we can continue this conversation."

"Sounds good," Tetsuya agreed.

The two exchanged contacts through their PokéGear and parted ways.

Brock returned home to find his father, Wu Neng, seated on the sofa, reviewing reports from his subordinates.

"Did Kintaro have an upset stomach again? Did you change his diaper?"

"Did Wenta take his medicine for his cold?"

"Did Yuzhi finish her homework? Have you checked it?"

As Brock rattled off questions, Wu Neng sighed and set down his report.

"I've handled everything already," he responded, exasperated. "Kintaro was well-behaved today. Wenta took his medicine on time. Yuzhi is still finishing her homework—you can check it later."

Then, sensing an opportunity to shift the conversation, he asked, "By the way, where were you tonight?"

"I met an interesting trainer during today's Gym Challenge," Brock replied. "Same age as me—he's an orphan."

His overall strength is impressive. Today, I used the Rhydon and Dugtrio from our Gym's No. 3 training roster, and he defeated both in a row.

His funding sources seem legitimate—he's been selling Fire Stones and taking on bounty missions. Nothing suspicious, so I decided to get to know him."

Wu Neng nodded absently as he picked up his report again. "Sounds like a lucky kid."

Encounters like Tetsuya's weren't unheard of—civilian trainers occasionally stumbled upon high-potential Pokémon. But few of them ever reached true success.

A single powerful Pokémon wasn't enough. Civilian trainers typically lacked the resources and connections to properly train or obtain additional high-level Pokémon.

Even cases like Tetsuya, who had lucked into two elite-tier Pokémon, weren't unprecedented.

After all, even Chairman Goodshow had started as a civilian trainer—his contract with a Legendary Pokémon being a rare exception.

At best, Tetsuya was a potential investment opportunity.

Brock wasn't surprised by his father's indifference.

For the upper circles of the Pokémon League, trainers like Tetsuya popped up every year. Unless they emerged in large numbers—which was impossible without more high-quality Pokémon in circulation—they weren't considered game-changers.

"At first, I just wanted to chat and build a relationship early," Brock admitted. "But after talking to him, I realized he might be a real genius."

Wu Neng glanced up. "Oh?"

"His training methods are good—better than most civilian trainers—but they're still within standard limits. He's not using anything too advanced compared to League-sanctioned techniques."

Brock paused before adding, "But his breeding knowledge is something else."

At this, Wu Neng raised an eyebrow.

He knew his son well—Brock rarely exaggerated anything.

Brock had both talent and passion for Pokémon breeding, having recently passed his Level 5 Breeder Exam, making him an Intermediate Breeder.

But calling someone a potential Master Breeder?

That was a huge claim.

The most talented breeder in recent years, Lillian, had only passed the Level 9 exam at age 21.

There were 10 total levels, and even with her exceptional talent, the League estimated she wouldn't reach Master Breeder status until she was at least 30—which would still make her the third-youngest in League history.

By comparison, Tetsuya was not even 17.

Could he really reach that level?

Brock noticed his father's skeptical gaze and clarified, "I don't mean he's a Master Breeder now. He still lacks the necessary knowledge. It'll take at least five years to fill those gaps.

But when it comes to ingredient reactions, potion formulation, and customized Pokémon care plans, he's already operating at a Master-level standard."

What Brock didn't know was that Tetsuya's learning ability was even more terrifying than he imagined.

Still, Brock's assessment was enough to pique Wu Neng's interest.

Master Breeders were incredibly rare. A true Master could design breeding plans that optimized a Pokémon's growth at every stage, maximizing strength development far beyond conventional methods.

More importantly, every Master Breeder was also a formidable trainer.

Currently, only fifteen Master Breeders were alive in the Pokémon League.

Even for a wealthy Gym Leader like Wu Neng, hiring them was incredibly difficult.

It wasn't about money—Master Breeders didn't want cash.

They demanded rare, high-quality Pokémon breeding materials as payment.

And even if Wu Neng could afford to supply them, that would mean diverting resources away from his own Pokémon.

This was why every new Master Breeder was seen as a valuable asset.

And if Brock was right—if Tetsuya really had the potential to become one—

Then he was worth keeping an eye on.

If what Brock said was true, and this civilian trainer named Tetsuya Tamaki really possessed such talent, then he was definitely worth investing in.

After all, forming a connection with a future Master Breeder would be an immense advantage for their family.

"So, what do you plan to do?" Wu Neng asked, not imposing his own methods on Brock. Sooner or later, Brock would take over as Gym Leader, and he needed to develop his own decision-making skills.

"I spoke with him a lot today. He's definitely keeping some things to himself, but that doesn't matter."

Brock tied an apron around his waist and began tidying up the house as he spoke. "Given his background, I'm certain he's eager to acquire more knowledge. Tomorrow, I plan to speak with him directly."

He continued, "He's a sharp guy. He might not be the most social, but he's incredibly precise with his words. When I dropped hints, his reactions were natural—he wasn't defensive or wary."

"The potential for investment is huge. I'll report my evaluation to the Gym when I return, and they can conduct a more detailed background check."

"Alright. It's your call," Wu Neng replied, eyes still on his report. "Consider this your first investment prospect."

For him, revealing some information to Tetsuya was inconsequential.

"Got it," Brock said, pausing briefly while mopping the floor before continuing.

"Dad, lift your feet. And stop pretending to read that report—it's upside down. Go check on my siblings instead of just sitting here all day! You never pay attention to them!"

Listening to his son's nagging, Wu Neng quickly escaped upstairs with the report in hand.

My son is great at everything—except for how much he nags, he thought with a sigh.

As he climbed the stairs, his eyes narrowed slightly—just like Brock's. Tetsuya Tamaki… Sounds like he has real potential. Interesting.

Meanwhile, back in his Pokémon Center room, Tetsuya remained completely unaware of the conversation between father and son.

Fresh out of the shower, he sat on the sofa, replaying his earlier discussion with Brock in his mind.

One thing was clear—Brock hadn't mentioned anyone named Ash.

At least, not yet.

Tetsuya wasn't exactly disappointed. He just wanted to confirm it—after all, Ash had been a major part of his childhood memories from his past life.

But in this hyper-realistic Pokémon world, the absence of Ash wasn't surprising.

Everything here was vastly different from the anime.

Especially the tournaments—there was no way a rookie trainer like Ash could randomly make it to the quarterfinals in a real League competition.

Still… maybe it wasn't completely impossible, Tetsuya mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

The League's Competition System

Although Tetsuya had never personally participated in a tournament before—he had been too focused on making money and studying—he had done plenty of research.

The Pokémon League operated under two different competition formats:

1. The Two-Year System (Novice Tournament)

Designed specifically for new trainers.

Trainers aged 16-18 could register.

Only Pokémon caught and trained for no more than two years could be used.

To qualify, trainers still needed eight Gym Badges.

The average strength level of participating Pokémon was low—some Elite-tier, but mostly beginner and intermediate Pokémon.

2. The Unlimited System (True League Tournament)

No time restrictions on Pokémon training.

No age limit for competitors.

Trainers typically ranged from Elite-level to Quasi-Champion-level.

King-level trainers moved on to the Elite Four Challenges.

Ordinary trainers had no chance of even making it past the preliminaries.

The Novice Tournament had only 200-300 participants per year, and was mostly made up of civilian trainers fulfilling childhood dreams.

Few serious trainers even bothered with it.

The Unlimited Tournament, however, was where real competition happened.

For most trainers, the Novice Tournament was just an ego boost—a way to claim they had "competed in the League." The top eight were almost always made up of trainers from well-established families.

Within the trainer community, the Novice Tournament was mockingly referred to as the "Baby Cup."

The Pokémon League was already considering overhauling the system to make it more meaningful.

But it couldn't just be canceled outright—doing so would leave new trainers with no structured way to gain competitive experience.

Tetsuya wasn't too concerned about these changes—his goal was the Unlimited Tournament.

To secure a sponsor and gain access to better resources, he needed to prove his strength against real competition.

The Novice Tournament offered no real credibility in that regard.

Exploiting the Loopholes

Over the years, some trainers had abused the Novice Tournament system.

There had even been cases of trainers bringing King-level Pokémon into the two-year format—

And legally, they couldn't be stopped.

Why? Because their capture record showed the Pokémon had been "caught" within the last two years.

One infamous case involved a trainer from an elite family who entered the Novice Tournament with a King-tier Pokémon.

When questioned, he technically hadn't broken any rules.

It turned out his Pokémon was the offspring of his father's Semi-Champion-tier Pokémon. The trainer had raised it since birth, but didn't officially capture it in a Poké Ball until he turned 16.

By the time he entered the tournament, he had only "owned" it for one year—meeting the eligibility criteria.

And so, he destroyed the competition.

The League later investigated the loophole, and while they found the trainer's actions questionable, they couldn't retroactively disqualify him.

Of course, his future in the competitive scene was ruined—the scandal made sure of that.

This loophole wasn't easy to exploit:

You needed a powerful Pokémon to begin with.

You had to raise it completely in secret.

If someone else captured it before you did, it was legally theirs.

Most trainers didn't have the patience or resources for such a scheme.

As for simply borrowing a parent's high-level Pokémon?

Not only would that be pointless—since Pokémon wouldn't obey someone they didn't respect—but most parents would outright refuse.

The League had also implemented strict measures to ensure trainers couldn't enter the Novice Tournament using Pokémon they hadn't personally raised.

At the end of the day, Tetsuya had no interest in cheating the system.

His goal was to rise through the Unlimited Tournament, proving his strength in the toughest arena possible.

He smirked to himself, settling into the sofa.

It won't be easy.

But it'll be worth it.