Sticks and Steel May Break Your Bones

I hate the 9th of may, 4 people came to my house at the most random of times to talk to me about all this eco bs, Like bruh, go after oil companies, major food producers, any random factory would work. A normal person barely polutes 0.00002% as much as a single one of them in their entire life.

Anyways, enough with my rant, enjoy the chapter! 

| Rio POV |

The familiar system ping hums through my head as we wave Brendan and Wally off, watching them walk back to the city, a grin lighting Broccoli hair's face as he cradles his Poké Ball.

My mind goes back to how I convinced the Ralts to follow wally... Hopefully he has enough food for him...

[Quest Complete: Babysitter Duty]

+75 EXP

One random item: Wishful Baton

Lucky encounter to be met.

(A/N: Actual random Item.)

Ooooh, yes. Gimme gimme!

The EXP fills up my bar as I watch my level and stats jump up.

[Level Up! Lv. 6 ➔ Lv. 7]

[Name:] Rio

[Race:] Riolu

[Nature:] Adamant

[Abilities:]

Inner Focus (prevents flinching)

Prankster (priority to status moves)

Anticipation (senses foe's move)

[Level:] 7

[Move Set:]

Endure

Quick Attack

Cross Chop

Detect

Circle Throw

Feint

Bullet punch

[Stats:]

HP: 49

Attack: 81

Defense: 52

Sp. Atk: 41

Sp. Def: 46

Speed: 74

[Items:] None

I still had some IV points right? Dump them into Speed! I'm committing to the speed blitz Riolu build!

Speed_IV: 2 → 4

Speed: 74 → 84

Power surges through me, warm and electric, a raw shift rippling through every part of my being. The world seems to slow at the edges, a sharp coldness tightening in my muscles as they coil, compact, ready. For a flicker of a moment, my aura flares to life — sharp, restless, crackling with barely contained energy — before settling, like a storm slipping back behind calm skies.

Damn. Ten points, and I'm already halfway to making the Flash proud.

But the real prize?

The system manifests it with a soft golden shimmer, the glow coalescing in my paws:

Wishful Baton — a slender, silver-white baton, adorned with a winding coil of multicolored gems, like a rainbow snake frozen mid-slither. The energy thrumming through it sends a tingle across my fur, making it stand on end.

I stare at it, wide-eyed.

Then at May.

Then back at the baton.

"…Uh, Rio? What do you have there, buddy?"

A gay baton, you dumb trainer. Don't you have eyes? A literal twirling stick. What am I supposed to do with this — lead a parade? Conduct an orchestra? Tap dance?

[Wishful Baton: Passively absorbs stamina and loose elemental energy from damaged opponents. Transfers to holder.]

I pause.

Then stare at it.

Then stare back at May.

Then back at it.

My neck's already sore…

"When life gives you a stick, you beat bitches with it. I guess?"

Not just any stick, sure — but still. A stick.

My paw brushes over the ribbons, feeling a faint pulse, like a heartbeat. Or maybe… no, more like a quiet, steady hum. Like the baton's just waiting.

I draw a slow breath, letting my aura stretch toward it—and jerk back as a flicker of warmth brushes up against my senses. It's subtle, but it's there: a sponge for loose energy, pulling it in, feeding it to me.

The baton vanishes into Arceus-knows-where. May gives me the kind of look that says she's this close to quitting the journey, then goes right back to prepping Torchic's food like nothing happened.

Okay. Interdimensional vampire stick .That's… actually kind of sick.

I barely have time to flex my legs and take out the baton to give it a couple swings when—

rustle rustle rustle— CRASH!

Something small, fast, and deeply annoying explodes out of the bushes like a spiky missile, barrelling straight for May's bag.

"Zig—!"

Oh. Oh no.

A wild Zigzagoon.The raccoon menace incarnate.And the perfect test subject.

May yelps, clutching her bag as the little gremlin lunges, teeth bared, dead set on our snacks. Torchic squawks in alarm, flapping stubby wings and glaring murder at the mongrel. But I'm already moving.

"NOT TODAY, STRIPES."

A flicker of aura, a blur of motion — my paw shimmers metallic as I dash forward. The Zigzagoon skids, eyes wide — too late. Bullet Punch slams into its flank, sending it tumbling head over paws. 

It scrambles up with an indignant chirp, shaking itself off — and that's when I feel it.The baton humming… somewhere. Do I even have an inventory, or is this just a system thing? Eh, whatever. Back to the energy euphoria.

I hum as the baton does its work, pulling in the faint wisp of stamina from the Zigzagoon as its energy dips. Warmth prickles up my arm.

…Oh yeah.This is going to be fun.

I grin, eyes locked on the wild raccoon as it twitches, ready to pounce. The world slows, every movement stretching out — a twitch, a shuffle — and I'm already there.

One heartbeat.

I'm on him. My boosted speed making me nothing less than a yellow flash in his eyes.

My leg crashes down on its head just as it curls into a panicked ball.

[New move learned: Rock Smash]

…HUH?!

—BOOM!

Dust kicks up as I stare down at the poor Zigzagoon, its face halfway buried in the dirt, a muffled whimper leaking from the crater as it lies there like roadkill.

Yeah.Uh.I might be a little stronger than I thought. 

Also, where did that move come from? Did I do something special? I just wanted to use my energy without actively using a move, so can I learn moves outside of the system's help?

I glance back at the Zigzagoon, who's now shaking dirt out of his face, his eyes wide and frantic. His body spasms, trying to recover, but honestly?

He's more my new punching bag than anything else, right now... How many moves can I squeeze out of you, I wonder?

The Zigzagoon stumbles back to its feet, dazed but clearly not willing to back down. Its tiny eyes narrow at me with all the determination of a raccoon who's missed lunch.

I crack my knuckles, feeling the pulse of energy already building again, ready to surge.

I let out a low growl, testing the air around us. I can feel its frantic energy. So much wasted potential. It's like a live wire — and I'm the lightning.

"Not bad, Stripes," I mutter, my aura flickering as I size up the next move.

The Zigzagoon makes a half-hearted charge, but I'm already on him, dashing forward in a blur of motion.

I know it's going to be over in an instant, but I need to savor this moment. I need to get a feel for just how many of these moves my body can pull off now. How quickly can I turn the tides without letting it go completely to my head?

I flick my paw and hit him with another Bullet Punch. It lands with a solid thwack, sending him skidding across the dirt like a discarded toy.

Not even a challenge.

I look down at him, waiting for the inevitable squirming or retreat attempt. Instead, I just get another wild, panicked charge.

Seriously?

"Is that all you've got?" I taunt, feeling my confidence swell. My paws heat up with the buildup of energy again, and I brace for impact, ready to—

BANG!

The Zigzagoon slams into me — or, well, tries to. His tackle barely makes a dent in my defense. He's small. Weak. It's almost cute.

I use his momentum to disengage from his tackle, and spinning into a brutal backfist aimed at his side.

[New move learned: Counter]

Shooting off like a sad pinball, the Zigzagoon lies down on the grass for a couple seconds, his movements weak as he tries to breath past whatever broken ribs he has.

It looks like he has had enough. He's stumbling, barely awake from the barrage of quick hits, and for a moment, I think he's about to run.

But then, something flickers in his eyes. He digs in his paws, his body tensing like a coiled spring.

Oh. He's not done yet?

I tilt my head, a grin creeping across my face. This little guy's got heart. I respect that.

The Zigzagoon growls, gathering all the courage it can muster as it digs its paws into the dirt. It's all or nothing now — and I can see it in his eyes.

He's got that wild, frantic energy again. His body's trembling, probably more out of fear and pain than anything else, but there's a desperation there too. He's not backing down.

"Alright then," I mutter, flicking my tail. "Let's see how far you're willing to go."

He charges again, but this time it's different. There's more force behind it, more speed, but also a cautiousness driving him forward. He's giving it his all, learned, and adapted. Maybe the little guy's not so useless after all.

I side-step his charge, letting him sail past me. I watch as his momentum carries him forward, and in the split second he's vulnerable, I strike.

[New move learned: Iron Tail]

With a flick of my tail, now glowing white with energy, I smack the top of his head.

The Zigzagoon doesn't even have time to react. His body jerks upward from the impact, his eyes spinning as he drops to the ground like a sack of potatoes, knocked out cold.

I stand over him, feeling the heat of my aura settle.

"Better luck next time, Stripes," I say softly, almost like a compliment.

He's out for the count, no more fight left in him. I let out a breath, looking down at the little raccoon.

+48 exp

Yeah. I'm stronger than I thought. And that Baton? It's definitely worth it, I don't feel any tiredness at all!

I turn away, giving the unconscious Zigzagoon one last glance before heading back to May, who's just watching the whole thing unfold with a look somewhere between exasperation and disbelief.

"Am I even needed here..."

Don't worry my dumb human! Your job is most important indeed! Now go back to making our food!

Word count: 1631

Need more comments and reviews! Also to the one guy that got mad because the mc wasn't immediately some Chad powerlifter that makes women cream from a look, its not that type of book my guy, and we need some space to see proper character development, not Immediate Mary Sue syndrome.