"I want to ask you... how can I beco a Pokémon Trainer?" After a brief mont of hesitation, the boy spoke seriously, his voice carrying a hint of nervousness.
Sato didn't answer imdiately. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, gazing toward the distant Lingua Town. It was peaceful and serene, a place of quiet prosperity.
"Why do you want to beco a Pokémon Trainer?"
"Huh? Well... Trainers are amazing! They can command all sorts of powerful Pokémon in battle. I want to be a Trainer too. To beco a super-strong Trainer like Mr. Lance and defeat bad guys!"
The boy beca increasingly animated as he spoke, even waving his fists in excitent, as if he would step onto a Champion's battlefield any second.
Sato suddenly recalled that, once upon a ti, his own reason for becoming a Trainer had been just as simple... and just as naïve.
"Lingua Town is a great place. You'll never go hungry, life is peaceful, and you don't have to venture into dangerous mountains. There's no risk," Sato said calmly, stroking the Spinarak that clung to his chest.
"What's so great about it? Lingua Town is boring! Everyone's life is already set in stone. If I don't go out and see the world, I already know exactly what I'll be like ten years from now!"
The boy pointed toward the orchard, where his elders were busy working. His voice carried far more conviction than before.
"Do you have a starter Pokémon?"
"No..." The boy looked disheartened. He knew how important a starter Pokémon was, and he didn't want to just pick a random Butterfree from the orchard.
"Do you have the money for your journey?"
"...No." He clenched his fists. It was an obstacle no child could overco alone. His family could provide a comfortable life, but they had no extra funds to send him on a Pokémon journey.
"How much do you know about Pokémon?"
The boy suddenly hesitated. He didn't want Sato to think less of him, so he bit his lip and answered, "I think I know quite a lot."
"Alright, then... when would a Psychic-type move be effective against a Dark-type Pokémon?"
"...Huh?" The boy froze. He had morized the type effectiveness chart long ago, but Sato's question completely contradicted the basics he had learned. For a mont, he was at a loss, unable to answer.
Sato let out a quiet sigh. The question wasn't difficult. Anyone with even a basic understanding of Psychic Pokémon would know about a move called Miracle Eye.
"Do you see this?" Sato raised his bandaged right hand and shook it slightly. "I got this injury during my journey. And this is one of the lighter wounds. I have personally seen human corpses in the wild, torn apart and eaten by vicious Pokémon."
The boy's face turned pale as a sheet. Words like "corpse" and "devoured" were far beyond what a child his age could comprehend.
"And among those who were killed... the ones who died the most were young, inexperienced Trainers, people who had little skill and no survival knowledge."
The boy was too frightened to speak. His legs trembled slightly, he was scared. He had never imagined that becoming a Pokémon Trainer could be so dangerous.
Seeing his reaction, Sato didn't push any further.
He casually tossed Spinarak forward, and the little Pokémon skillfully shot out a string of silk, latching onto a tree branch. It swung back and forth, happily playing.
After the young boy ran off, Sato absentmindedly assigned Zoroark to train Larvitar and Spinarak's evasion skills, while he himself stepped aside, lowering his head with a sowhat forlorn expression.
The underground research facility incident, along with the boy's actions, forced Sato to once again seriously contemplate the true nature of the Pokémon League.
In order to purge underground organizations, the League had no qualms about saring Team Rocket's na, dragging them deeper into the abyss.
Not long after, news of a sudden massive collapse near the National Park spread, catching dia attention.
Just as Sato had predicted, although this research facility hadn't been exposed at the most opportune mont, every news outlet's reports were already shifting the bla entirely onto Team Rocket.
In an instant, Team Rocket beca the pri target of public outrage, condemned by all. Opposition voices filled every corner of Johto, growing louder by the day.
With the rise of Pokémon Trainers as a profession, countless young trainers set out on their journeys daily, much like an endless stream of travelers crossing a vast river.
The young boy from earlier, including Sato's past self, had all been influenced by the League's propaganda.
With so many young prodigies erging, the number of trainer deaths in the wild each year also continued to rise.
To mitigate these casualties, the Pokémon League introduced Pokédexes and starter Pokémon, using various thods to promote their importance and shift aspiring trainers' focus toward obtaining them.
Through a series of screening processes, only a small number of exceptionally talented trainers were granted access to a starter Pokémon and a Pokédex.
As reckless travelers dwindled, the Pokémon League further cented its influence by providing free starter Pokémon, Pokédexes, and complintary Pokémon Center treatnts, securing the loyalty of high-potential trainers who would likely align with the League in the future.
They were ruthless in achieving their goals yet dedicated to nurturing talent. Among the League's upper ranks, there had to be more than one ambitious strategist or visionary leader.
Pushing these concerns aside, Sato focused entirely on training his Pokémon.
His imdiate goal remained Goldenrod City. In a short while, sothing significant would take place there, and if he could seize the opportunity, his Pokémon's strength would see considerable growth in a short period.
Since his injuries hadn't fully healed, Sato decided to remain in Lingua Town a while longer.
The elderly couple, Takeno and Masanobu, treated him well, and he found himself unexpectedly enjoying this peaceful life.
However, just as Sato assud the young boy wouldn't return, he appeared before him again the very next day.
"I want to be a Pokémon Trainer! I want to beco stronger...! I don't want to be a farr for the rest of my life."
"Aren't you afraid of dying?"
"I am. That's why I have to beco stronger! I've seen death before. Once, a rampaging Nidoking attacked the town. I saw it kill Uncle Iwakō, and in the end, it was Grandpa Masanobu who drove it away. The adults didn't let us near, but I hid and saw everything with my own eyes."
The boy was slightly out of breath, clearly having rehearsed that speech in his mind for a long ti.
Sato didn't recognize Iwakō, but Masanobu was Takeno's husband.
At this point in life, the only Pokémon he had left was a Jumpluff, which was relatively long-lived and easy to care for. His stronger partners, including his once-mighty Heracross, had long since passed away.
Glancing at the boy, who stared up at him with large, dark eyes full of determination, Sato asked in a calm voice, "What's your na?"
"Takeshin!"
"I'm Sato. You can watch train, but whether or not you beco a Pokémon Trainer is a decision between you and your parents, not ."
"I understand! I'll work hard!"
Sato said nothing more and turned back to training. Spinarak stared blankly at Takeshin, puzzled by how much darker he was compared to Sato.
'How can soone be this dark?' Spinarak didn't understand.
For the next few days, Sato selectively displayed basic training thods in front of Takeshin without explaining anything, leaving it up to the boy to figure things out on his own.
One morning, after training for nearly half an hour, Sato noticed that Takeshin hadn't shown up yet. Just as he was beginning to wonder why, the boy suddenly ca running toward him, looking elated, clutching a Hoppip in his arms.
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