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Watching the young couple gradually walk away, Sato turned his head back and looked thoughtfully at the sign-up information on the large screen.

"What, thinking of giving it a shot?" Joseph imdiately saw through Sato's intentions and asked directly.

"I don't really have a place to train my Pokémon, and Sharpedo's about to break through anyway. It's a good opportunity to get so practice," Sato nodded, turning to head toward the registration area.

Before long, Sato had finished signing up and was inford that he could check the battle schedule on-site after dinner.

The two continued to wander around the cruise ship, taking note of a few key locations. After not finding anything particularly interesting, they returned to their room together.

Sato released the eight Pokémon he had brought this ti and officially introduced Ralts to the team.

Several of them had already seen the evolved Gardevoir before, so there was still a bit of reverence in the air toward her.

During the process, Sato keenly noticed Zoroark looking sowhat downcast. He didn't even need to guess, Sato imdiately understood what was going on.

As Sato's starter, Zoroark had always been the de facto "big brother" of the team, consistently ahead in strength and leadership.

When Weavile joined the team, Zoroark felt the pressure of holding the position, so its already intense training had only beco more extre.

Just recently, Zoroark had finally managed to surpass Weavile, and thought it could finally breathe easy.

But now, Sato had suddenly captured a Pseudo-Elite Four-level Gardevoir, and that left Zoroark feeling completely disheartened, because it couldn't even see the possibility of catching up.

"What are you doing over here, not chatting with the others?" Sato sat down next to Zoroark and gave its furry head a good rub.

"Zoro~"

Zoroark rested its head on Sato's lap, showing a rare, pitiful look as if silently asking for comfort.

That one gesture instantly reminded Sato of the unevolved Zorua... that mischievous yet tough little rascal.

Now, Zorua had evolved into the dashing and powerful Zoroark, with strength far surpassing others of the sa age. But in terms of age, it was still just a kid.

"You've already surpassed 99% of Pokémon your age. All you're missing is ti... it's a slow and steady grind," Sato gently petted Zoroark, then leaned in to whisper quietly into its ear.

"You know how old Ralts is? At least several hundred years," Sato said in a super soft voice.

"ZOOO?"

Zoroark looked up in shock, staring at Sato in disbelief before turning to glance at Ralts.

'That little loli's been alive that long? No way.'

"Shh... don't let her know we're talking behind her back... we can't beat her," Sato whispered again just as quietly.

Zoroark nodded obediently. Compared to Ralts, it really was just a baby... losing to her was totally normal. Beating her? Now that would be strange.

With that thought, Zoroark's mood finally lifted. It was still the boss, and Ralts was a "senior"; that made it different.

-----

Ti passed quietly, and before they knew it, it was already 8 PM. Sato and the other two had arrived at the battle tournant venue early.

Mark had spent the entire walk complaining that they hadn't told him ahead of ti; if they had, he would've signed up too.

But Sato and Joseph, long used to Mark's constant nagging, completely ignored him. No way they were going to tell him he could still register tomorrow.

By 8 o'clock, the spectator seats were already full. The atmosphere in the venue was electric, stirred up by the enthusiastic female host.

As a rookie participating in this type of tournant for the first ti, Sato was assigned to one of the opening warm-up matches.

Which actually suited him just fine, no need to wait.

Of course, Sato wasn't the only first-tir, so it wasn't until the third match that it was finally his turn.

Most participants assigned to the warm-up rounds were newcors or contestants with extrely low win rates, so the betting odds were nearly always 1:1.

To many seasoned gamblers, the warm-ups were more like gas of chance; since no one really knew either side, the uncertainty made things exciting.

For that reason, warm-up matches never lacked for bets. Sotis, they even drew more attention than the main tournant battles.

From the sidelines, Mark and Joseph, full of confidence in Sato, had already placed a large wager on him.

If there's money to be made, why not?

Soon, Sato entered the arena, and the roar of the crowd swept over him, stirring his blood despite himself.

But to prevent the audience from being caught in the crossfire of Pokémon moves, the battlefield was completely enclosed by a transparent barrier.

All the noise was instantly muted, and only then did Sato begin to focus on his opponent.

A scruffy-looking middle-aged man, cigarette dangling from his mouth...

Sato didn't relax in the slightest. He actually grew even more alert, because of the man's age.

Up until now, most of Sato's opponents had been around his age, at most three or four years older.

But now, his first opponent was a "grown man". When it ca to experience, Sato had almost no advantage at all.

And indeed, most of the betting odds were skewed in favor of the man.

Many of those who bet on Sato had done so simply because of his looks... placing fun bets just for the thrill of it.

After all, his age didn't inspire much confidence. Even having elite-level strength at his age was considered exceptional.

But in this place, prodigies were the easiest prey.

Leaving the crowd's reactions aside, as soon as the referee gave the signal, Sato's first match aboard the cruise ship officially began.

"Each side will use three Pokémon. The match ends when all Pokémon on one side lose the ability to battle. The battle begins now!"

Boom Boom!

Two bursts of red light flashed across the field.

Sharpedo and Manectric appeared at the sa ti. The mont the two Pokémon showed up, the crowd erupted in a mix of sighs and cheers.

"Lost money!"

"This one's in the bag!"

"Kid, not your lucky day," the scruffy man chuckled, revealing a row of yellowed teeth stained by cigarettes as he mocked Sato.

Sato couldn't be bothered to respond. He issued a command imdiately. "Sharpedo, Agility!"

The field was a standard battle arena, aning there was no water. So when Sharpedo suddenly shot into the air, it caused a wave of gasps from the crowd.

"A flying Sharpedo?!"

One wealthy lady who had already thrown away her bet slip on Sato now discreetly bent down to pick it back up.

This battle... might not be so simple after all.

And it wasn't. Faced with the unexpected aerial Agility, the scruffy man's surprise only lasted a mont before he issued his own command.

"Manectric, Odor Sleuth, then use Thunder!"

Manectric suddenly lowered its body and twitched its nose, then snapped its head toward a spot in the air and unleashed a powerful bolt of lightning.

Within the crackling thunder, a dark blue figure could faintly be seen.

In the stands, the wealthy lady threw her betting slip away again. This ti with a curse under her breath. "Waste of emotions..."

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