The next three months rolled by like the tide—steady, predictable, but never boring. Jack, being Jack, didn't just feed his Pokémon and call it a day. No, he used every scrap of knowledge from Poké-Jack, Pirate-Jack, and Earth-Jack to build a training program that would've made a Navy drill instructor weep with pride.
Mnemosyne, Calypso, and Nassau each had their own routines—laps, resistance swimming, precision moves practice, even synchronized diving (though Nassau treated that last one like a like an action movie). Jack insisted on it all, and they thrived.
Along with the Universal Water-Type Poké recipe. On paper, it was designed to boost resistance to Electric and Grass-type energy, sharpen Water-type attacks, and add a nice shine to scales. Unknown to Jack, it did far more—quietly raising every base stat his team had, laying the groundwork for monsters-in-the-making.
Next came their personal diet adjustments and move training schedules. Because Jack was still in the Foundation Stage—though he'd already broken into the Dark Substage—there were strict limits on what moves and resources he could assign. Raising a Pokémon's level wasn't quick work; just like training an athlete, it took time to build skills, strength, and endurance.
The Dark Substage allowed him to potentially raise his team to level 22 at maximum, but reaching that cap was going to be a long process.
Mnemosyne, his Feebas, was being groomed as a special-attacker tank thanks to her rare gift—having all three of her species' abilities. Jack planned her training around her future potential rather than her current state, since all of a Feebas's abilities change upon evolution. That evolution, in theory, was easy to achieve—if you knew how. To which Jack does thanks to the games.
What he doesn't know in practice, the exact method wasn't well-documented or researched. Coming from another world, Jack had no way of knowing that most Milotic trainers in history had stumbled upon the method by sheer luck.
Once evolved, Mnemosyne's Marvel Scale would turn her into a formidable wall despite Milotic's relatively low base Defense. Its pure Water typing left it neutral to most common physical attacks, while its naturally high Special Defense allowed it to comfortably switch into many threats. A moveset like Scald—with its burn chance—would cripple most physical attackers (Guts-users aside), and Recover would let her stall and heal against even the strongest bruisers like Darmanitan. Mnemosyne's natural distaste for close combat meant Jack would lean into her ranged offense. Her seafood-and-vegetable diet was tailored to boost Defense, Speed, and HP, while her naturally strong Special Attack and Special Defense stats would grow into monstrous levels over time.
Calypso, on the other hand, was all brute force wrapped in scales. As a Magikarp now, she showed constant signs of her future as a Gyarados—slamming into training dummies and even body-checking Nassau when annoyed. Jack envisioned her as a lightning bruiser with Dragon Dance to boost her sweeping potential, paired with a reliable physical Water-type STAB. Her two strong abilities would make her a dangerous close-range predator. Her high-protein, keto-based diet was designed to enhance her defenses while still pushing her offensive growth.
Nassau, the Totodile, would fill a different niche entirely—a pure physical attacker built for blitz tactics. His role would be to hit hard, hit fast, and respond instantly—whether by blocking, dodging, or countering. Where Calypso was built for drawn-out trades, Nassau would be the hammer that ended a fight in seconds.
[xXx]
It was the seven in morning, Jack after severing breakfast with Mnemosyne, Calypso, and Nassau to their Poké Ball, texted to his parents (mom is still pissed), and rode his bicycle to school.
Pokémon High School, Viridian Branch.
Pokémon High was more than just a school—it was a multinational institution. Branches could be found in every major city across every Region in the Union, each adapted to the local culture but united under the same banner of excellence.
The Viridian branch ranked among the top ten most prestigious in the entire country, producing dozens of Professional Trainers each year—trainers certified at Class C or higher. Many of these graduates went on to become local heroes, tournament champions, or even celebrities whose faces appeared on billboards and in commercials.
A Trainer's prime years typically fell between ages twenty and one-hundred and twenty. With most retiring once their reflexes dulled or the wear of battle caught up with them.
The ranking system itself had been reworked over the years. The original letter-based scale—from Class F to SSS—was considered too bland and impersonal, so names were introduced for each tier. This gave the system more character, made it easier for the public to follow, and, according to some, added just the right touch of drama to an already competitive world.
By the current generation, the letter-based system—from Class F at the bottom to Class SSS at the very top—was still the official Trainer ranking method recognized by the Pokémon League and the Union. Every license, every battle record, every tournament seeding still used the letters.
Class F – Rookies
Fresh license holders, academy students, or complete beginners. They typically had one to three Pokémon under Level 20 and limited resources. Most washed out here.
Class E – Novices
Trainers who had proven basic competence—capable of caring for and battling with their Pokémon consistently. They could handle small tournaments or low-risk contracts but lacked serious experience. Think trainers that battle you at the start of the game.
Class D – Apprentices
Intermediate Trainers, often gym challengers in the mid-stage of their journey. Their teams had the fundamentals down but still lacked the polish and adaptability needed for higher stakes battles.
Class C – Professionals
The first true milestone. Class C Trainers could compete in regional leagues, qualify for certain sponsorships, and take higher-tier contracts. This was where most "career Trainers" peaked, with stable income and respect. Pokémon High aimed to graduate students at this level.
Class B – Advanced Professionals
Recognized names in their regions. These Trainers could lead competitive teams, serve as gym lieutenants, or run high-profile exhibitions. Their Pokémon were well-rounded and battle-tested.
Class A – Elites
Often Gym Leaders, frontier specialists, or high-demand mercenaries. They had large fan followings and access to rare resources. Few made it here without years of focused training.
Class S – Champion
Exceptional Trainers who could go toe-to-toe with Elite-tier opponents on their best days. Their names were spoken with awe, and their teams were feared on the battlefield.
Class SS – Masters
The pinnacle for 99.9% of Trainers. They shaped the competitive scene, trained the next generation, and often acted as political powerhouses within the League.
Class SSS – Grandmasters
So rare they were almost myths. These Trainers' influence spanned nations; their battles were historical events. Champions might spend a lifetime trying to reach this level, and many never did.
By the time Jack stepped into his new classroom, Nassau padded in beside him, tail swishing like he owned the place. Most students were already seated, each with a freshly assigned baby Pokémon at their side. The air was thick with bragging rights and friendly competition.
Nassau hate's being in a Poké ball for long periods of time.
Front and center was Marcus Renn, the kind of kid who could turn "good morning" into a personal achievement speech. His Pokémon, a chubby, deep-blue Marill, bounced on its tail like it had springs.
"My Marill hatched knowing four moves," Brent declared, loud enough for the back row. "From a League-certified champion bloodline. Dad had to cash in a few favors just to make sure she was registered under my name."
Marcus's family owned a Pokéball production plant in Saffron—something he never failed to remind people.
A ripple of impressed murmurs passed through the room.
"Four moves from birth?!" one boy said. "My Spearow's stuck with just Peck and Growl."
"Cry to someone else," another added. "My Geodude's got only Tackle, and that's it."
Marcus's best friend, who was basically his hype man, grinned. "Come on, you can't compare. That Marill probably cost more than the tuition for this whole school year."
This wasn't much of an exaggeration. Good Pokémon—those with rare abilities, exceptional genetic potential, or champion bloodlines—were expensive. A high-grade Marill from a licensed breeder could easily run between ¥12.2 million and ¥26.5 million, depending on its inherited moves and certified IV ratings. That was the sort of money only well-off families, corporate-backed students, or future pro trainers could throw around.
For most students at Pokémon High, owning a partner like that was a badge of status just as much as a battle advantage.
Marcus soaked in the admiration like sunlight, then leaned back in his chair with a smirk. "Who wants to go first to fight a monster like me?"
The idea sparked interest right away—Pokémon battles were practically currency here. And while Marcus's Marill was clearly strong, there were plenty of students itching to test their skills.
Now despite being from a well-off family Jack received nothing his family and was a known as a notorious merchant to others. In reality many boys were envious that Jack is making ¥37.2 million a year from all his business.
Sure they are far richer from the Jack disgrace status as heir from the Sparrow doesn't mean they are not jealous of him having his own money and not worry about parents. Unlike Marcus's parents most just give them Pokémon found in the daycare.
Speaking of Jack, Marcus's grin shifted into something sharper. "Well, well. If it isn't our transfer prodigy. You didn't say a word in chat last night, Jack. So… what's your starter? Or did the school have to loan you a Rattata?"
Jack Sparrow was also very chill guy, and worst of all handsome. The rare and natural color of his made stand out among the boys. The color of his skin, the exotic color of his eyes. The girls and some boys just ate it up like candy. He forever earned his nickname: Handsome Jack
This made Jack even more hated among the boys and few girls that were into the other team. The group of boys lead by Marcus often tried to bully Jack but he never cared to respond to them. This made Marcus hate Jack even more.
A few chuckles rose from the room. Everyone knew Jack was cuff off from his wealthy family, and Marcus was clearly setting up a show.
Jack shrugged and stepped aside so Nassau could be seen. The Totodile bared his teeth in something halfway between a smile and a challenge.
Rejoice humans, elves, dwarves', and other humans! Nassau learned many things being around Jack. One of them is that there way too many human looking creatures.
After learning what Ogres where the alligator didn't bother to learn the rest of the species.
Marcus did not believe this waste of space actually a Nation Stater. The Sparrow's while are the lowest among the wealthiest families in the Viridian Providence. But they are not very powerful trainers and few connections towards a Pokémon League and even if they did Jack would not receive any support from his family.
A girl in the second row gasped. "A Totodile? Those are super rare here in Kanto!"
That earned Jack a few curious looks—and wiped some of the smugness off the rest of Marcus's group.
Trying to recover, Marcus leaned forward. "Rare or not, how about we see what it can do? Friendly battle. After class. My Marill versus your… Totodile ."
"Sorry, mate," Jack said, shaking his head with a tone that left no room for argument. Nassau could barely survive a full-on Tackle from Calypso during their sparring sessions, and there was no way Jack was going to throw the little guy into a pointless match just to satisfy someone else's ego. More importantly, Marcus simply wasn't his type—Jack could read people well enough to see when someone's interest went beyond casual competition, and the boy's constant hovering, sidelong glances, and overeager invitations told him exactly what he needed to know: Marcus was more than a little obsessed with him.
Unfortunately, while the sea can be calm on most days, this was not one of those days. Jack had no interest in locking horns with a man whose eyes said battle but whose pride whispered other intentions entirely. The fellow didn't want him in the romantic sense—no, Marcus's wounded ego had pushed him into something far more tedious. He felt it absolutely necessary to beat Jack down in front of the whole class, prove he was nothing more than a pretty face with no real skill, and—while kicking Jack's arse—draw the eyes of every girl in the room.
A win-win situation, as far as Marcus's addled mind was concerned.
As he mulled over his imagined victory, Marcus's gaze swept the classroom until it landed on Momoyo Kawakami—one of the most dangerous beauties in the school.
Momoyo, with her waist-length black-brown hair and eyes the color of fresh blood, carried herself like a queen who needed no crown. The "megalopolis-style" bust, as the boys liked to call it, was just the garnish—her real allure was the power in her stride and the ease with which she commanded a room. Draped in the winter uniform of the Kawakami Dojo, her jacket hung loosely over her shoulders like a cape, a black vest beneath and black boots grounding her in authority.
Her lineage was as formidable as her presence—granddaughter of Tesshin Kawakami, one the world's strongest martial artist, and the child of two fighters, one bearing the famed Kawakami bloodline. The family was legendary for their Fighting-type Pokémon, and Momoyo embraced that legacy with relish. Rich, beautiful, and—according to the long list of women she had seduced—dangerously amorous, she carried a reputation as sharp as a katana.
There was a family rule, too: if a man defeated a Kawakami woman in battle, she became his woman. Not that Marcus cared about that bit. Ok he cared a lot but he wasn't foolish to think he can beat Momoyo right now.
What gnawed at him was the way Momoyo looked at Jack—the same way she looked at the prettiest girls.
It was infuriating.
Can't let this stand, Marcus thought, grinding his teeth.
He strode toward Jack's desk, where, as usual, Jack sat sprawled like a pirate king with his boots propped up, the very picture of irreverence. Marcus hated that too—the way Jack seemed able to do whatever he pleased without so much as a slap on the wrist.
More than hate it, he envied it.
Marcus reached into his bag, pulled out a sleek, jet-black Pokémon Department Store VIP card, and dangled it just out of Jack's reach. Leaning in close, he whispered, "This here's a Pokémon Department Store VIP card. Twenty percent discount on every purchase. Win against me, it's yours. Lose… no penalty."
Jack's eyes narrowed, a slow grin curling his lips like a sail catching wind.
A twenty percent discount meant serious long-term savings—something he could make excellent use of. Now that school kept him from personally running his ventures, he'd been forced to hire staff, pay insurance, set up business accounts, and maintain a small fleet of trucks and ships. Most of his profits were already tied up in Rum & More Rum, Caribbean Seas Shipping, a handful of other small enterprises, and his latest acquisition—a studio apartment complex, every room and surrounding parcel of land under his name.
Then there were the Sparrow Aqueducts, a marvel of engineering in his eyes but in dire need of expansion. A Wailord has to fit into that thing and was not remotely big enough for that.
He planned to make after two locations in Toriko: The area where Toriko fought his dad and area where Sunny and Toriko travelled to Death Falls and that one area in Indiana Jones III.
Jack also needed space for private affairs, and the wonders one could order online these days were enough to tempt even a saint—if only he had the capital. The forest property alone had cost ¥20.5 million, and that was just for a section.
Thank heaven he stockpile used to make the Aqueducts. It was bound to happen. You can't just steal--he means buy rare and valuable materials before someone caught on. Well most like he blamed on the Pirate Guild and they are currently hunted in mass but they will bounce from this.
Jack was sure of it... maybe...
So yes, the card was useful. Very useful. Especially since his system didn't have an item mall and there was one particular piece of kit he couldn't get through his usual channels—a Pokéblock machine.
Pokéblocks in this world worked like energy cubes, providing a Pokémon's body with the nutritional fuel it needed for battle. While his Pokémon were fed well, they still needed those concentrated energy blocks or, by the time they reached higher levels, they'd spend all day eating just to meet their daily requirements.
And then there was the quest from the system.
[Xxx]
Girl Data Base: Momoyo Kawakami
Kawakami Momoyo川神 百代O
Measurements Height: 173cm, Bust-Waist-Hips: 90-58-88cm
Birthday: 31 August (15)
Hair: Ahoge, Black, Long, Ponytail, Sidehair, Spiky Bangs, Straight, Waist Length+
Eyes: Hosome, Red
Body: Big Breasts, Pale, Slim, Young-teenager
Personality: Arrogant, Carefree, Charismatic, Competitive, Confident, Funny, Loyal, Pervert, Protective, Selfish, Sharp-tongued, Watashi, Womanizer
Hobbies: Calligraphy, Cooking, Flirting, Flying, Martial Arts, Singing, Swimming, Teasing, Unarmed Fighting