Silas walked through the forest as if nothing were unusual.
How many times had this happened in the past month already?
He wasn't sure anymore.
Either way, the guy following him was definitely no good—just like the ones before.
Although Silas couldn't clearly see the stalker's appearance, he could sense the general direction, which was enough for him to judge.
No normal Trainer would skulk around and tail people like this.
And if the stalker had been a handsome guy, that wouldn't make it any better.
Silas sighed.
Even though the largest illegal trade hub—the black market—had been shut down, as long as humans and Pokémon existed, illegal poaching and trafficking would never completely end.
Those poachers and their teams never relied solely on black markets anyway.
They all had their own secret trading channels.
Judging by the way this one was acting, it was probably another guy eyeing his Mareep and Togepi.
That wasn't surprising. The Viridian Forest was full of all kinds of people.
For all he knew, that polite gentleman who brushed past him in the city could secretly be some scumbag poacher making his fortune in the wild.
And really, looking at him now, he probably did resemble an easy target—like a fat sheep ready for slaughter, dripping with oil.
As Silas's thoughts wandered, he and his three Pokémon eventually reached the riverside.
"Talk about a lucky start," he muttered.
Right as he approached, he spotted three or four stalks of Bulrush Grass growing sparsely nearby.
He carefully dug them up with their roots still intact, then placed them into a box.
Looked like his luck had finally turned around.
He instinctively ignored the Togepi in his arms.
"First part complete. Now for the next… let me think, which one would be best?"
His dull-looking eyes swept around the area.
A group of Poliwag, a group of Venonat, a group of Psyduck, a group of Meowth, a group of Rattata, and a group of Bellsprout.
On both banks of the narrow river, aside from himself, six different species of Pokémon had gathered.
The Viridian Forest's ecosystem really was extraordinary.
Of course, calling them "groups" was a bit generous—at most there were seven or eight of each.
All the Pokémon watched the sudden intruder and his three companions with sharp vigilance.
Since they lived nearby, they had already formed a kind of unspoken truce: when gathering for water, none of them would attack.
Even if they competed for territory or prey elsewhere, they wouldn't fight here.
Otherwise, it would just lead to endless conflict and mutual ruin.
Except for vicious Pokémon like Ekans and Arbok, most Pokémon obeyed this unspoken rule.
And Trainers respected it as well.
Silas smiled warmly. Pokémon were very good at reading human expressions.
The gathered Pokémon relaxed slightly, though their wariness didn't fade.
"Hey there, everyone," Silas said, his voice making the Pokémon tense up again, some preparing to fight, others ready to flee.
"Take it easy, I mean no harm. This little one here was just born, and I'd like to find her a sparring partner. Do any of your groups have someone suitable?"
He picked up the Mareep beside him and addressed the gathered Pokémon.
Of course, they understood him. Still, their bodies stayed stiff as they exchanged glances among themselves.
"Meow."
A Meowth, clearly the leader, stepped forward.
Its sharp claws scored lines into the dirt.
Meowth was usually a quadrupedal Pokémon—though rare exceptions like Team Rocket's Meowth could walk on two legs.
They resembled small cats, with light cream-colored fur that darkened to brown at the tail tip and back paws.
A shiny golden coin gleamed on its forehead, while its large eyes stood out against its face.
And of course, Meowth didn't have an externally visible nose.
That made Silas wonder again: did Meowth even have a sense of smell?
He already knew the answer, but his mind had a habit of wandering like this.
"Meow~ Meow."
The Meowth continued speaking in Pokémon language.
Meowth were known to be highly intelligent. In cities, they often existed in large numbers as strays.
This one was clearly the leader of its group—and apparently capable of speaking on behalf of the others nearby as well.
"So, you're saying there's one just-out-of-youth Pokémon in both the Poliwag and Bellsprout groups?" Silas confirmed.
Wild Pokémon speech often had dialect-like quirks, making it a little hard for him to catch every nuance.
The Meowth sat elegantly in front of him, licking its paw before nodding.
The reason for such calm cooperation was obvious: resting on its body was a small, shiny glass marble.
A human-made trinket from modern civilization.
"Meow."
The Meowth rolled the marble across the ground with a paw, eyes gleaming.
Round, shiny objects were irresistible to Meowth—and if it had been a coin, even better.
"Careful with that. It's fragile," Silas warned, rising from his crouch.
The Meowth nodded almost imperceptibly and batted the ball more gently.
It had never seen anything like this before.
"Meow~"
Three more Meowth padded up, drawn by the sight of the toy.
Their eyes and their forehead coins glittered with longing.
But under their leader's strict presence, they dared not touch it—only gaze longingly.
In the wild, the rule was simple: treasures always belonged to the strongest. Unless the leader grew bored, the underlings never got a chance.
"You all heard my conversation with Meowth, right? Would you be willing to let them battle? Here's the payment."
Silas turned to the Bellsprout group, placing two Oran Berries on the ground as an offering.
Bellsprout, the unevolved form of Weepinbell and eventually Victreebel, had yellow bell-shaped heads.
Tiny black eyes and pinkish lips framed their mouths, while their brown roots served as feet. Their bodies were small and frail-looking.
He didn't choose the water-type Poliwag (the pre-evolution of Poliwhirl, eventually Poliwrath or Politoed).
At such a low level—around six or seven—the elemental matchup would be brutal.
Electric beats Water. Mareep's chance of losing to a Poliwag was basically zero.
And in these early stages where most attacks were still physical, high potential meant better physical stats, which gave a huge advantage in battle.
For Mareep, a guaranteed win wasn't particularly meaningful.
On the other hand, battling a Bellsprout had its merits. Grass resisted Electric, which gave the opponent a chance, and Mareep would actually get useful training.
There were six Bellsprout in the group, which was a fairly large number compared to the others present.
They chattered among themselves briefly before nudging forward a small, newly-grown Bellsprout.
"All right then. Thanks in advance," Silas smiled.
Proposing this sort of sparring match was usually met with agreement.
Pokémon parents also wanted their children to get used to battling early.
But in the wild, such safe "practice battles" were rare.
Most wild battles were life-and-death struggles. Against a Trainer, though, they didn't have to worry about being killed.
And the wild Pokémon understood this very well.
"Okay then, Mareep—are you ready?"
Silas cradled Servine and Togepi in his arms, brimming with fighting spirit as he spoke to Mareep.
One of the rules of being a Trainer: always treat real battles with passion.
Even Champion-level Trainers, when training young Pokémon, upheld this principle.
It was the bare minimum respect one could show their partner and also their opponent.
"Miee~!"
Mareep bleated back with determination, facing off against the small Bellsprout.
The wind blew softly across the riverbank.
The two Pokémon dashed at each other at the same time.
At only around level 6 or 7, neither could rely on sophisticated strategies—close combat was the only way.
Bellsprout could only use basic moves like Vine Whip and Wrap, but at such a young age its range was short, meaning it had to get close.
Mareep, meanwhile, had inherited some good moves, but using them consumed a lot of energy and stamina.
It wouldn't be wise to rely on them now.
Naturally, the only attacks it had comfortably mastered were Tackle and Thunder Shock.
Against a Grass-type like Bellsprout, Thunder Shock wouldn't do much damage
so Tackle was by far the more effective choice.
In short, this was a "battle of beginners."
…At that moment, Silas felt the Poké Ball on his belt shake slightly.
He ignored it.
"Mareep, sidestep left and use Tackle!"
When the distance between the two shrank, Silas gave his command.
Right now, the coordination between him and Mareep wasn't smooth enough that he could simply call a move and expect it to execute flawlessly.
That would come with more battle experience, and Silas was patient.
Mareep lowered its head slightly, charging toward Bellsprout's right side.
At the same time, a thin vine lashed out from the left Bellsprout had used Vine Whip.
But Mareep's angled rush happened to avoid the attack entirely.
"Brrriii!"
Bellsprout cried out in panic.
It couldn't understand why its opponent had dodged so easily, even launching a counterattack before it had properly struck.
"Bell~! Bellsprout~!"
Behind it, Bellsprout's parents called out, urging it not to panic.
Hearing its parents cheer, Bellsprout steadied itself but Mareep was already closing in.
Thud!
Mareep's body slammed into Bellsprout at an angle.
It wasn't a deafening crash, but Bellsprout's small body was knocked off its feet, tumbling backwards across the ground.
It had taken heavy damage.
Yes—serious damage. A couple more Tackles like that and it would faint.
"Thunder Shock."
Silas issued his next command.
Since the earlier Tackle wasn't powerful enough to keep Bellsprout stunned for long, he wanted to press the attack.
Bellsprout was just managing to push itself up on its leafy hands when a thin golden bolt of electricity crackled straight at it.
"Brrrii!"
It squeezed its eyes shut in fear.
The jolt was sharp and tingling, painful but nothing compared to that heavy Tackle earlier.
Opening its eyes again, Bellsprout regained some confidence.
Thud!
But by then Mareep had rushed in once more—this time with its full body.
Bellsprout was sent flying, flipping twice in the air before crashing down, rolling along the dirt, and finally collapsing with swirls in its eyes.
"Mareeeep!"
Mareep bleated proudly, as if to say, Who's next?
Silas smacked his forehead.
He suddenly realized he'd need to let Mareep experience failure sometime.
It wasn't that constant victories were bad—winning certainly built confidence.
But confidence could easily tip over into arrogance, which wasn't healthy.
Back when his Blaziken had been undefeated, it had never shown this kind of cockiness.
Every Pokémon was different, it seemed.
Silas became more cautious.
Not that Mareep had to lose—but the battles couldn't be this easy.
"Next time… maybe a Magnemite would be a good opponent," he decided.
Something like Sandshrew wouldn't work—Mareep was smart enough to realize its Thunder Shock wouldn't affect a Ground-type.
That wouldn't teach it much.
But a match against another Electric-type would make it easier for Mareep to learn humility.
"Being a Trainer is really like being a parent," Silas sighed.
"Maree~p!"
Mareep trotted back, circling around Silas's legs to show off. See? I won again!
"Yeah, nice job."
Silas crouched down, rubbing Mareep's head in praise.
Even if he was worried, a victory still deserved recognition.
Thankfully it was winter—he was wearing long pants.
Otherwise, Mareep's static-charged fleece brushing against him would've made him spark.
"Alright, let's go!"
Beaming with pride, Silas led his three Pokémon onward toward the next river.
"Hmph. Typical kid… so happy just because a weak Pokémon won one battle."
From a distance, a middle-aged man muttered to himself disdainfully.
"Patience. Stay patient. What if it's a trap? Better keep watching."
Even though he was convinced Silas was just a rookie Trainer, he still wanted to observe more of his ability.
Silas traveled along the rivers, collecting stalks of Grass, while letting Mareep battle now and then.
Thanks to careful matchups, Mareep's visible arrogance gradually faded through these tough fights.
It remained confident when it needed to be, but learned caution.
Its temper was still stubborn and headstrong, but it was becoming more attentive.
It was still young, but Silas was satisfied—it was clear progress.
After another hard-earned victory, Mareep returned to his side, panting.
"Great work," Silas encouraged, patting its head.
"Maree~p!"
Mareep lifted its head proudly, still full of confidence.
Silas smiled. Pokémon really were simple, innocent, and adorable creatures.
Then, with his back to the trees, his ears and senses picked up sudden movement.
"Well, finally making your move, huh? I almost thought you were just some kind of stalker," Silas muttered inwardly.
The man had been tailing him for over three hours—nearly until dinner time. His patience was impressive.
Silas grumbled in his mind, but his vigilance spiked sharply.
If someone could follow for that long without acting, they were surely an experienced poacher.
And poachers often carried dangerous weapons.
It wasn't the opponent's Pokémon strength Silas feared—he had Pidgeot, so even if he couldn't win, he could always escape.
What worried him were lethal human weapons, like guns.
The League did regulate such things strictly, but smuggling still existed.
Not every country was as tightly controlled as the one Silas remembered from his past life.
At the end of the day, people in this world were still flesh and blood.
Even if powerful Pokémon could fend off bullets, humans could not.
...
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