"Mom, Dad, I'm ho!"
Around five in the afternoon, Basalt dragged his large suitcase through the door of his ho in Seaside County. The first thing he saw was a table laden with food. His parents had clearly been waiting for him.
"You did good, son." Basalt's Dad walked over and clapped him on the shoulder, giving him a silent, proud nod. Like any father, he wanted his son to be successful. But Basalt's current achievents had far surpassed any hopes he'd had.
Captain of the tro City team. Didn't that basically make him the strongest new trainer in the entire city for the year? The number one trainer of his generation in tro City was his own son? This was sothing he could brag about for the rest of his life.
"Basalt, the training camp must have been so hard. You look thinner," his mom said, her eyes welling up with tears as she fussed over him. In the two months he'd been gone, he had only co ho once. He'd never been away from her for that long before. Although she was proud of her son's accomplishnts, as a mother, her main concern was how much he had suffered during that ti.
"Thinner? I don't think so," Basalt said, patting his stomach. He'd actually developed a tiny bit of a paunch. The training pressure at the camp had been so imnse that he had started stress-eating. It was a valid coping chanism, after all.
"At least this handso face hasn't changed," he thought, glancing at his reflection in a mirror with a sigh of relief.
According to his agreent with Jack, the owner of the J&L clothing brand, as long as he made the tro City team, he would still receive an appearance fee for participating in the Regional Tournant. The exact amount, however, was sothing he needed to negotiate in the next couple of days.
That evening, Drilbur devoured piece after piece of his mom's famous stew, eating until it was completely satisfied. At the sa ti, Basalt's mom's affection returned squarely to Drilbur. Bronzor didn't eat normal food and thus didn't join them for dinner. Otherwise, knowing his mom, she would have definitely favored the Pokémon that looked more valuable on the surface.
Basalt spent the first day of his short break at ho, mainly to be with his parents. He didn't make any training plans. Instead, he helped them with chores in their old fruit orchard behind the house—watering, fertilizing, and letting Drilbur help out by chasing away any pesky Rattata.
On the second day, Basalt bought so gifts and prepared to visit Ms. Anya, Coach Miles, and Headmaster Albright. They were all important ntors who had helped him on his journey, and he would never forget their kindness.
To his surprise, however, the multiple ssages he sent to Ms. Anya went unanswered.
"Why isn't she picking up her phone either?" Basalt muttered, completely baffled.
He had no choice but to call Coach Miles. Thankfully, the coach answered quickly.
"Coach Miles, how have you been? I'm back in Seaside County and wanted to co see you. Are you at the club?" Basalt explained.
"Oh, Basalt! You're back already?"
"The training camp ended the day before yesterday, so I ca straight ho. I have the next two days free, so I thought I'd stop by."
"How did the selections go? What were the results?" It was clear that Coach Miles was anxious to know. Basalt was the leading trainer of Seaside County's new generation, after all. The coach had been following his progress very closely.
Basalt chuckled, not hiding his pride. "Well, you're speaking to the new captain of the tro City team."
"That's my boy! You did it! All the effort Anya and I put into teaching you wasn't in vain. Captain of the tro City team? That's a huge deal!" At first, Coach Miles was ecstatic, but his mood quickly soured. "It's a sha... a sha Anya won't be able to hear this good news."
"Coach, did sothing happen to Ms. Anya?" Basalt's brow furrowed. "I tried calling her, but she didn't answer. And what do you an she won't be able to hear the news?"
"Sigh. It seems she didn't tell you," Coach Miles's voice was heavy with an unconcealable worry. "A week ago, Anya was recalled by the military. I heard they're planning a major operation. She's being deployed to the border again."
"And this ti... it could be very dangerous."
Hearing this, Basalt's heart clenched, and his fists tightened. Ms. Anya was more than just a teacher; she was a ntor and a friend. He wouldn't be where he was today without her. But as he thought about it, he realized there was nothing he could do.
"In the end, I'm still too weak," he sighed.
While he was at the top of his peer group, in the grand sche of the Pokémon world, he was a nobody. The most he had was a lot of potential.
"Hey, wait a second. Is that the faint scent of a blossoming romance I sll?" Basalt suddenly paused. He'd always suspected there was sothing between Coach Miles and Ms. Anya, but he never had any proof. But the coach's reaction now? It was a dead giveaway.
"Don't worry, Coach. With Ms. Anya's strength, I'm sure she'll be fine," Basalt said, offering what little comfort he could. He fully supported that relationship with both hands.
"I hope so," Coach Miles replied, his voice still low and worried. "I'm at the club now. You can co find here."
Basalt headed over to the teor Club, t with the coach, and tried to console him while also giving him an update on his own progress. He was careful not to ntion his involvent with the Weather Bureau. It was best to stay low-key, a lesson he had learned from his father.
Unfortunately, with Ms. Anya gone and without contact information for the old headmaster, his plan to visit him had to be put on hold.
After leaving Coach Miles, Basalt went to the J&L clothing store to find Jack, the owner, and discuss his appearance fee for the regionals.
According to their original agreent, just for making the team, he was due a 200,000 Poké Dollar prize. Unfortunately, their contract had only stipulated what would happen if he made the team, not what would happen if he beca captain.
What a huge loss! Basalt thought, gritting his teeth. By his rough calculations, he'd lost out on a potential fortune.
After a long negotiation with Jack, they finally settled on the terms. Since Basalt was a seeded competitor, his opponents in the preliminaries wouldn't be too strong. They agreed on a lump sum of 300,000 for the entire preliminary stage.
After the preliminaries, the main tournant would consist of three rounds. His appearance fee for the first round would be 500,000. For the second round, 700,000. And for the third, one million. If he managed to win all three main event matches, that ant he would be in the finals.
The appearance fee for the final match was set at a staggering 1.5 million.
And if—just if—he managed to win the championship, he would receive an additional bonus of one million.
In other words, if Basalt won the individual tournant, his total earnings would be a cool 5 million. To the current Basalt, this was an astronomical sum, even though he already had the one million in startup funds from the Weather Bureau sitting in his account.
His breathing had quickened as he calculated the total. But on second thought, he realized the price wasn't high at all. In fact, it was a bargain.
The Jiangnan Regional Tournant was an annual spectacle, broadcast live across the entire region. Nearly half of the region's tens of millions of people would be watching. The entry-level sponsorship for the tournant cost millions. Securing naming rights would add at least another zero to that figure.
In contrast, if Basalt really did win the championship, Jack would have achieved an advertising effect comparable to an exclusive tournant sponsor for a re 5 million. It was an absolute steal for him. And even if Basalt didn't win, Jack wouldn't lose much. The rewards were tiered. With Basalt's current strength, passing the preliminaries was a given. And once he did, with his good looks, he was guaranteed to make a lasting impression on the audience.
Jack was betting that as soon as the cara focused on Basalt's face, he would go viral and gain a fanbase, just like he had on the Seaside County forums.
The 200,000 he originally owed Jack was now perfectly offset by the 200,000 prize for making the team. After leaving the store, Basalt also paid back the 200,000 he owed to Frank.
"It really is a relief to be debt-free," he thought, strolling through the streets of Seaside County. A gentle breeze brushed his face, and his mood was light. If all went well, his participation in the regionals would make him both famous and rich. And if he got really lucky, he might even co ho with a Larvitar. Life was good.
Back ho, Basalt continued to enjoy his long-overdue lazy days. On the third day, he boarded a bus back to tro City. He was planning to visit Dr. Martin at the tro City Research Institute. After all, he owed the existence of his incredibly talented Drilbur to the doctor. Now that he had achieved so success, it was only right to go and thank him.
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