"Simon Shaw, male, 28 years old, from Sangoku City, Kanto Region.
Tournament Record:
Participant of the 134th Kanto Conference (eliminated in the first round);
Participant of the 135th Johto Conference (eliminated in the third round);
Participant of the 136th Sinnoh Conference (Top 64);
Participant of the 137th Hoenn Conference (Top 16).
Registered and Main Pokémon:
Blastoise (suspected Elite-level)
Nidoking (Peak quasi-Elite)
Rapidash (Peak quasi-Elite)
Onix (Peak quasi-Elite)
Houndoom (Peak quasi-Elite)
Slaking (Peak quasi-Elite)
Tropius (Peak quasi-Elite)
Honchkrow (Peak quasi-Elite)
Swellow (Peak Advance)
Cacturne (Peak Advance)
Scyther (Peak Advance)
In total, he owns 23 Pokémon above the Advance level.
Evaluation:
A Trainer who returned to his hometown after years of travel and grew quietly stronger. Compared to true prodigies, he isn't fully talent-based, but his perseverance and diligence have allowed his strength to steadily increase. This marks his fifth League Conference after three years of silence.
His three years of seclusion bring both pros and cons.
The advantage is that all of his Pokémon have visibly reached the peak of their respective stages, and his personal understanding of training and command must have improved greatly, making him one of the top contenders for this year's Indigo League Championship.
The downside is that if he had continued competing during those three years and achieved better rankings, the exposure and investment he would have gained might have pushed him closer to the Elite threshold.
At present, only his starter, Blastoise, is possibly near Elite strength — which somewhat limits his long-term growth potential.
Betting Recommendation Index: ★★★☆☆
(A safe, stable investment — but don't expect to make a fortune.)"
This was one of the many reports.
Silas unconsciously licked his dry lips. "Wow… what a monster."
A suspected Elite-level Pokémon, seven at peak quasi-Elite, and fifteen at peak Advance — covering all types and battle environments, land, sea, and air. And that didn't even include the unregistered mid-tier Pokémon he surely owned.
Still, it wasn't that strange. Considering the man had twelve years of Trainer experience, who knew how many Pokémon he'd caught during that time? That number wasn't surprising at all.
Silas's capture style was quite different from most Trainers'. Even among elite Trainers, it was common to capture twenty or thirty Pokémon during a year of travel in a single region.
But him? In an entire year, he had captured only about six.
No wonder people said being a Trainer was a money-burning profession. Just feeding that many Pokémon daily could drain a fortune.
Fortunately, once most Trainers reached a certain level of strength, they rarely raised Pokémon from scratch like Silas did. They would usually capture already strong ones in the wild.
That saved enormous early-stage costs — easily the largest expense in training.
Not everyone was like Silas, who had Zero, his analytical system. Rather than gambling on a Pokémon egg's hidden potential, most Trainers preferred capturing fully-formed wild Pokémon.
The latter had far more battle experience. Their strength wasn't necessarily inferior to carefully raised ones. True, their potential might be slightly lower, and their bonds with Trainers took longer to build but they were cheap.
That alone convinced most people.
For Silas himself, if he hadn't decided to capture and raise his three youngest Pokémon, he could easily have captured a Rhyperior in the wild by now.
Even a team of peak-Advance Pokémon would have been realistic for him.
If he reallocated the money spent raising those three toward daily upkeep instead, he could maintain two full teams twelve Pokémon at the Advance level without issue, even without pushing for maximum growth.
Once his Pidgeot and Blaziken broke through to the quasi-Elite tier, forming an entire quasi-Elite team would just be a matter of time and effort.
With Zero's help, Silas could roughly gauge a Pokémon's strength and plan accordingly — unlike other Trainers, who were often blind, unable to tell whether a wild Pokémon was a newly advanced quasi-Elite or just a peak Advance.
Still, it wasn't worth it. That was like trading the future for the present. Silas thought his brain worked well enough not to make that kind of deal.
Sometimes, though, he fantasized: If only I had a clone technique…
Then he could send one team of "mass-trained" Pokémon out to do bounty missions for money, while his main team focused purely on growth.
He'd even asked Koga about it — but unfortunately, the ninja master had told him that even ninjutsu didn't include anything like a real duplication technique. Shadow Clones were just illusions.
Silas had then given up asking whether the man's clan had chakra refinement techniques passed down as family secrets.
Looking at the intel broker's analysis of Simon Shaw, Silas could understand the man's three-year retreat quite well.
For any Trainer, a League Championship wasn't just a title — it was an honor.
Many joined simply to achieve the semifinals required for quasi-Elite certification, but most had only one goal: the Champion's throne.
Many gave up partway through that pursuit, but clearly, Simon wasn't one of them.
However, just as the analysis stated, those three years of silence would somewhat impact his future prospects. Three years was an invaluable amount of time.
For an investing family, that usually meant reduced future returns and that kind of projection made them very cautious.
Silas had deep respect for Trainers who held on to their ideals and never stopped chasing them — probably because he wasn't sure if he could have done the same in their position.
His gaze finally fell on one statistic where he surpassed Simon — the Betting Recommendation Index.
His own was about four stars.
"Worth betting on — with a chance of a big win."
Put simply, everyone knew he could grow much stronger in a single month — it was just a question of how much.
Reaching the Top 32 was entirely possible. If he made it to the Top 16 or even the Top 8, those who bet on him would make a killing.
As for the odds? Gamblers never cared about probability — only payouts.
Multipliers several times over were enough to drive anyone crazy. Though, he doubted anyone would be crazy enough to bet on him as Champion. He certainly wouldn't.
For a competitor like Simon Shaw winning the championship wasn't even considered a long shot — getting eliminated in the Top 64 would be. So it was natural that Silas was rated higher in that respect.
After all, once the main tournament began, the League would always tweak the bracket a little — just enough to keep powerful Trainers from clashing too early.
If the Champion could be predicted by the quarterfinals, what fun would that be?
This was all for the sake of keeping the matches exciting. Fairness was important, but so was spectacle.
The other five Trainers whose strength ranked alongside Silas all had similar evaluations.
After reviewing them, Silas concluded that Simon Shaw still had the best chance of taking the championship. In both team strength and résumé, he outshone the rest.
"Steady Progress." Such simple words — yet so incredibly hard to achieve.
The phrase 'not a true prodigy compared to real geniuses' was clearly written because this year's tournament included young prodigies like Silas and Yezo.
Reaching the main tournament at twenty, and contending for the championship at twenty-eight that kind of talent already surpassed 80–90% of all Trainers.
Most people couldn't even guarantee entry into the main stage by age thirty.
Under the table, Silas's foot tapped uncontrollably. Being surrounded by so many powerful Trainers was thrilling.
It wasn't that Trainers like Nobuhiko, Agatha, Professor Oak, Sabrina, Lance, Bruno, or Lorelei weren't strong — they were almost too strong, to the point of being untouchable. It didn't give the same feeling.
"How about it?" Silas grinned as the temperature in the room rose. "Don't you want to battle them too?"
"Blazeee!"
Blaziken stood beside him, holding back the flames shooting from its wrists in excitement.
Pidgeot perched nearby, one wing propped against its body, the other resting on the floor. It sighed wordlessly at the childish Trainer-and-Pokémon pair.
Still, the subtle twitching of its tail feathers betrayed that it wasn't as calm as it looked.
For most Pokémon, a fierce, exhilarating battle was also something to crave.
Silas carefully analyzed the profiles of the six Trainers ranked highest in strength. That would be enough for today — five or six more tomorrow.
By the time the preliminaries ended and the main tournament began, he'd have analyzed at least the top 200 Trainers in the competition.
Know your enemy, know yourself, and you'll never lose a hundred battles.
Besides, once he entered the main stage, there was always a chance he'd face one of those top-tier Trainers. When that happened, he had to be ready to give his all.
Silas had already prepared himself for that — anything was possible.
"Alright, enough for tonight. Time to sleep — tomorrow's the draw!"
Finishing his work, Silas closed his laptop, pulled Togetic out of midair into his arms, and leapt onto the bed.
Among all his Pokémon, only Togetic could still do this. He sighed wordlessly — once it evolved, he'd have to get used to sleeping alone again. That would take some adjusting.
The Togetic, forcibly held in his arms, looked utterly defeated. It had been planning to go rest on the sofa with its companions instead.
Before long, as the room lights went out, the only thing left was the sound of steady breathing.
Silas and Togetic lay on the bed, surrounded by his Pokémon, each resting in their own posture.
"Do you have confidence!?"
"Toge-toge!"
"Do you have confidence!?"
"Toge-toge!"
"Do you have confidence!?"
"Toge-toge!"
Early the next morning, along the main road of the Trainers' Village, a rare Togetic floated in the air, repeating a heated call-and-response with its Trainer.
The other Trainers, who had also woken early to draw their match numbers, cast envious looks at the Togetic—a Pokémon rarely seen even in major tournaments.
And as they watched, they could feel their own blood boiling with excitement too.
"So, I'm counting on you for the draw, Togetic! You'd better use that 'lucky aura' of yours to the fullest!"
Silas said eagerly, eyes full of anticipation.
Suddenly, all the surrounding heat and enthusiasm cooled in an instant. It was as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water over the crowd.
Wait, your 'confidence' is for the lottery, not the battle?
The other Trainers secretly groaned at this famously eccentric young Torch Runner.
As expected of a young man—his way of thinking really was unusual.
With a straight face, Silas walked toward the contestants' hall with Togetic by his side.
The hall was already packed, a long line of people shoulder to shoulder.
He quickly found a relatively shorter line and joined the queue.
Silas wasn't the only one with his Pokémon beside him; many Trainers had brought their own partners, each of varying strength.
The belief in "lucky Pokémon" was widely held. Even among Pokémon, there were "unlucky" and "lucky" ones—trusting your Pokémon's luck wasn't mere superstition.
But Silas's Togetic clearly outshone the rest.
The surrounding Trainers looked at it in disbelief—no matter where you went, Togetic was always a rare and eye-catching presence.
Floating beside Silas, Togetic crossed its tiny arms and raised its head proudly, glancing down at the Pokémon below with disdain.
A bunch of rookies think they can out-luck me? Don't they know all my snack money comes from finding loose change for my Trainer?
When it came to pure luck, its entire species was blessed. Even Pokémon like Murkrow, Absol, or Pidove—who could also have the Super Luck Ability—couldn't compare to the sheer absurdity of Togepi's evolutionary line when it came to fortune.
The line moved forward slowly.
Having woken early, Silas finally reached the counter after about forty minutes.
"Please scan your Trainer Card or Pokédex."
Nurse Joy repeated the standard instruction.
Togetic, being clever as always, stretched out its small hand. It already knew how to do this. The Pokédex Silas had placed in its grasp earlier beeped with a confirming chime.
"Trainer Silas Alaric, Battle Field B, Match No. 34. Your match starts at 10:00 AM. Please arrive at least thirty minutes early to prepare."
Nurse Joy reported smoothly.
Silas's face lit up. "Knew it! That's my Togetic for you—the arena number's the same as my room number! You really are my lucky star."
"Thank you, Nurse Joy."
Calling Togetic to follow him with the Pokédex in hand, Silas left without delay—there were still plenty of people waiting behind him, and he didn't want to get yelled at.
Togetic flew along holding the red Pokédex proudly in both hands. Not to brag, but when it came to luck, it had never met its match.
It was now 8:20 a.m.—still some time before Silas's first preliminary match.
For his first time participating in the League, he had come early to observe the other Trainers' battles.
The more he watched, the more relaxed he became.
As expected, even in a major tournament, there were still plenty of rookies.
Silas visibly loosened up.
He had every right to think so. In many nearby arenas, he could see ordinary-level Pokémon pecking at each other. His Pidgeot could crush them without even trying—let alone now, after its recent training.
Time flew by, and soon it was time for his first official match.
"From Kanto's Viridian City—Silas Alaric! Versus—Anonymous Trainer from Aokiri City! The battle begins!"
At the referee's signal, both sides sent out their Pokémon.
"Go, Weepinbell!"
"Go, Blaziken!"
Thirty seconds later, the completely scorched Weepinbell was recalled to its Poké Ball, and the referee declared Silas the winner.
A Normal-level Pokémon versus a pseudo-Elite-level one—what a "balanced" match indeed.
As Silas walked off the field, the corner of his mouth twitched.
He'd been so nervous earlier and for this?
It felt like a battle theme was automatically playing behind him.
Sure enough, he still couldn't completely hide his strength.
He smirked a little to himself. "Alright then, let's keep it simple for the prelims—goal: ten straight wins!"
.....
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