Ding!
You have received a quest!
[Quest: Defeat Marcus Renn]
Marcus Renn has challenged you to battle. As the patron of your system, you are obligated to fight him!
Difficulty: F+
Reward: S-Class Damp Rock
Jack stared at the glowing text floating before his eyes, the way a man might look at a storm on the horizon—calculating not just how to weather it, but how to plunder it for all it was worth.
"An S-Class Damp Rock, eh?" he murmured under his breath, the words rolling like rum over ice. "Now that be somethin' worth wetting me boots for…"
Ding! Update completed.
[Jack Sparrow]
Sex: Male
Age: 15 (New)
Race: Human
Yen: ¥30,000
Pokémon: 3
Reputation: 1,200 (New)
Aura Core: Medium (Foundation Stage) – Dark Black
Proficiency: Water / 10.7% | Ice / 10% | Electric / 10% | Flying / 10%
Attributes
Level: 1 (0.5%)
Trainer: 3
Coordinator: 7
Battler: 2
Hunter: 0
Researcher: 3
Medicine: 0
Attributes
Trainer: Represents Jack's all-round skill as a Pokémon trainer — from designing effective training regimens, to teaching moves, to giving precise commands mid-battle. A higher Trainer score speeds up Pokémon growth, increases obedience, and improves the efficiency of all training methods.
Personal Effect: Heightens leadership instincts, improves voice control for commanding, increases spatial awareness during battles, and strengthens the bond-sense Jack feels through aura.
Coordinator: Measures Jack's ability to bring out the beauty, style, and presentation of his Pokémon. This covers Contest performance, coordination-based battle strategies, and making moves look as impressive as they are effective.
Personal Effect: Improves Jack's charisma, rhythm, and style in both movement and speech; increases beauty gives him a natural "stage presence" even in everyday life.
Battler: The raw measure of combat skill — how well Jack can read opponents, adapt to battlefield conditions, and execute advanced strategies under pressure.
Personal Effect: Heightens reflexes, pain tolerance, and stress management; improves mental clarity during danger; slightly boosts muscle coordination for physical combat.
Hunter: Tracks skill in finding, tracking, and capturing Pokémon in the wild. The higher this is, the better Jack is at luring rare Pokémon, locating hidden items, and avoiding dangerous encounters.
Personal Effect: Boosts Jack's tracking instincts, environmental awareness, and stealth; improves hearing, smell, and night vision over time through aura refinement.
Researcher: Reflects Jack's knowledge of Pokémon biology, history, typing interactions, and environmental conditions. Higher levels unlock better use of specialized equipment, breeding techniques, and move optimizations.
Personal Effect: Expands memory retention, logical reasoning, and problem-solving speed; subtly improves aura perception of patterns in nature and battle.
Medicine: Measures Jack's proficiency in creating, modifying, and applying healing items, medicines, and nutritional supplements for Pokémon. At higher ranks, this includes crafting custom potions, status cures, and battle boosters.
Personal Effect: Enhances Jack's fine motor control, sense of touch, and hand-eye coordination; resistance toward drugs and stats effects.
All those months of training and his best stat is Coordinator?
The third-year high school students bolted for the battlefields like Sharpedo scenting blood.
Jack, meanwhile, would never understand how the hell fifteen-year-olds counted as "third years" in this world, but he'd learned not to question the local brand of madness. Some things, mate, ye just take on faith—like the tide and a drunk man's promises.
The school's Pokémon battlefields sat just beside the main academic building, spread out in neat rows like little arenas of glory and heartbreak. The standard field was about the size of a basketball court, its edges lined with reinforced safety barriers that could handle a Hyper Beam or two—assuming the maintenance budget wasn't "mysteriously" cut again.
Inside each arena, two white trainer boxes marked the starting points. They weren't just paint on the ground; a faint shimmer of protective aura energy separated trainer from Pokémon chaos.
By the time Jack stepped onto the court, a crowd had already gathered, ringed tight around the barrier. Students leaned forward, balancing on tiptoe, trading yen-sized bets and half-whispered trash talk. The air buzzed with the scent of anticipation—spicy snacks from the vending stalls, the faint ozone tang of aura energy, and the smell of Pokémon who knew a fight was coming.
All this for two Rookie trainers?
Up in the stands, a few of the big-name upperclassmen watched like judges at an execution. Jack caught Marcus sneaking glances toward Momoyo Kawakami, who sat with her arms folded and her expression unreadable. Her eyes flicked between the two trainers like she was already measuring them for their graves.
Jack, of course, just tipped an invisible hat and grinned at the crowd as if he'd just arrived to collect rent. Always give 'em a show, mate.
Marcus stepped into his trainer box, chest puffed out like a Pidgeot showing off its tail feathers. With a smooth, practiced flick, he pulled a Poké Ball from his belt.
"Go, Marill!" he barked, hurling it forward with enough force to impress anyone who didn't know throwing technique barely mattered.
Jack, leaning lazily in his own trainer box, rolled a Poké Ball across his fingers like he was deciding whether to toss it or use it as a paperweight. Finally, with a smirk, he gave it a casual underhand toss. "Nassau, mate—show 'em your teeth."
Two bursts of red light flared almost at the same time.
From Marcus's ball, a round, blue-bodied Pokémon landed with a bounce, its rubbery tail thumping the ground like a drum. "Marrrill!" it chirped, puffing itself up to seem more intimidating.
From Jack's ball, a small, crocodilian figure landed in a squat, tail swishing and mouth split in a wide grin full of sharp little teeth. "Toto~dile!" Nassau clapped his claws together like he'd just been promised dinner.
The crowd whooped, their cheers bouncing off the safety barriers. A few teenagers in the back were already calling out bets, and someone shouted, "No way that Totodile can take a hit from a Marill that fat!"
Jack just smiled wider, because nothing pleased him more than people underestimating him.
Around the edge of the battlefield, students from Class 3-A pressed against the railings, eager for blood—or at least bragging rights. Almost none of them were on Jack's side.
The consensus was simple: Marcus's Marill looked like a tank, while Jack's Totodile was barely big enough to bite through a thick shoe.
Most rookie battles were blunt-force affairs. You threw out the few moves your Pokémon knew, they slammed into each other until one dropped, and the trainer with the tougher monster walked away smiling. Nobody in that crowd expected anything different here.
Those were luxuries for later, when you could afford to train like the pros.
At least, that's what the crowd thought.
The ref's voice cut across the field. "Battle begin!"
The volunteer referee swung his arm down.
"Marill, Tackle!" Marcus's command was sharp and confident, the kind of voice you used when you'd already decided you were going to win. The Water Mouse Pokémon burst forward with surprising speed for its size, round body bouncing with every step, eyes locked on its smaller prey. His Marill had the ability Huge Power which doubles its physical strength. One hit and it will be over Jack.
The blue ball of muscle chirped sharply and hurled itself forward, stubby legs churning. For all its bulk, it was surprisingly quick—but not quick enough.
Jack, still leaning back with one foot hooked lazily over the trainer box rail, tipped his hat."Dragon Dance into Aqua Jet, mate."
A ripple of confusion passed through the crowd—Dragon Dance? In a rookie fight? But on the field, Nassau's entire demeanor shifted.
The little gator's grin turned sharp, his pupils narrowing. A faint crimson energy—raw, unstable Dragon-type power—coiled around him like smoke before sinking into his limbs. His stance tightened, weight balanced perfectly.
Then water burst from his form in a sudden surge, wrapping him like a living torpedo. The air cracked with the sound of impact as he tore across the field in a blur of blue, spraying a fine mist in his wake.
Gasps rippled through the watching students. This wasn't the clumsy, slow-footed charge they'd expected from a level-five starter. This was speed born from countless hours of training against sisters who could outswim and outpace him without breaking a sweat.
Normally, when a Pokémon used a contact move, it just threw its weight forward and slammed into the opponent, letting the energy of the technique do the rest. No flair. No style.
Jack, being Jack, had taught the little water gator something entirely off the beaten path. Nassau's training regimen included weight training and those ridiculous "Master Roshi" workouts from the original Dragon Ball. On his breaks, the gator watched fight anime, wrestling highlight reels, and whatever random combat clips Jack could dig up from the internet.
Oh—and Judo.
Something that didn't technically exist in this world. Sure, there were martial arts here, but they were usually modeled after Pokémon themselves, not "real" martial arts with stances, throws, and body mechanics that made sense to a human skeleton. Not that Jack knew if Judo would actually be effective here. Nassau didn't either or cared in the first place. He wasn't exactly fact-checking.
But both of them thought it would be awesome, and that was enough reason to try.
Also WWE moves as well.
To the shock of Marcus—and even a few onlookers who actually followed school battles—Nassau didn't just smash headlong into the oncoming Marill. At the last moment, the gator twisted his body, hooked his short arms under Marill's side, and used the momentum to roll the Water Mouse clean over his own shoulder.
Using the momentum, Nassau launched himself about twenty feet. He was pretty sure it was twenty… twmenty? Whatever. The gator was not a numbers Pokémon. For him, the jump felt "light." Nassau slammed the Mouse into the ground with a clean throw.
To Marcus's shock—and the surprise of a few battle nerds in the crowd—Nassau didn't just smash headlong into the oncoming Marill. At the last moment, the gator twisted his body, hooked his short arms under Marill's side, and used the momentum to roll the Water Mouse clean over his own shoulder.
Crack! The dirt split in a spiderweb pattern as Marill hit hard, coughing up spit from the impact but still not out. Before Marcus could even open his mouth to shout an order, Nassau blasted forward in an Aqua Jet, feet first, driving both heels into the poor Water Mouse and knocking it out cold.
Landing in a wide stance, Nassau struck a pose like he'd just won a championship belt. He threw his arms wide, chest puffed, and bellowed at the crowd.
"YEEEAAAH, BROTHER!" He roared mid-spin, voice booming like a stadium mic. "THE GATOR'S COMIN' DOWN FROM THE SKYYYY! DIG IT! OHHH, YOU FEEL THAT, LITTLE Phat-BOI? THAT'S THE STORM HUNTIN' YA!" His tail whipped out behind him like a living rudder, shifting his angle for maximum impact. "WHEN I LAND, THE EARTH GON' REMEMBER MY NAME! AND SO WILL YOU, YEAH!"
The crowd erupted in a chorus of disbelief. This wasn't a move from any Pokémon handbook. This was… weird. Effective, but weird.
When the result of the battle was clear, the crowd went dead silent.Well… most of the boys did.
The girls? Screaming their heads off for Jack like he'd just proposed marriage.
It wasn't that Jack and his Totodile were that amazing. Okay—sure, having Aqua Jet this early was already broken, and Dragon Dance—even fourth rate half-baked—was pushing it into "unfair" territory. But that wasn't what had the boys frozen.
It was the fact that the gator wasn't even breathing hard.
You have to understand—at this stage, all third-year Pokémon are still in the basic stages of their life. Trainer Aura Cores are are tiny, still forming, still in the foundation stage. Aura size decides how much raw power a Pokémon has, and more aura means a stronger connection to their Trainer. That connection? It lets Trainers send aura through commands, items, and strategies to boost their partner's attributes in ways Pokémon can't do alone.
Jack's Core was Medium. Foundation Stage, yes, but dense—dark as the depths of the ocean. That kind of core let a trainer shove far more aura into a command than rookies should be able to handle.
Not that Jack cared.
And Nassau? He soaked it up like a sponge. That bond between them wasn't polished or pretty—it was raw, instinctive, and utterly unshakable. The moment Jack barked an order, Nassau didn't just hear it. He felt it ripple through his muscles, sharpen his instincts, and push him past the limit he thought he had.
Which was why, when Marill went limp on the dirt, Nassau was still standing tall, tail lashing, eyes bright, chest heaving with adrenaline—not exhaustion.
Marcus was the first to break the silence."You—what the hell was that?"
Jack just tipped his invisible hat again, eyes glittering with the kind of mischief that made sailors nervous."Mate, that was a lesson. You can write it down, but you won't forget it."
The ref's flag went up. "Winner—Jack Sparrow and Totodile!"
"Marill actually lost?"
"It lost, but not because Totodile was stronger—it was dirty tactics!"
"Yeah! At this level, it shouldn't even know Aqua Jet, let alone Dragon Dance!"
The copium was strong.
Since Jack didn't exactly get along with the other boys, most of them started throwing around accusations—doping, illegal training, anything to make themselves feel better.
Jack didn't care. Not even a little.The man lived by a simple philosophy: the world doesn't hand out wins for fighting fair.
The girls clearly didn't care either—half of them were looking at him like he'd just pulled off the most romantic gesture in history. One of them, Momoyo, wasn't even trying to hide it—she was staring like she could drink him straight out of his uniform.
Jack just grinned. Life was good. Nassau had won his first battle. They'd scored a 10% discount card. And now he had an entire fan club of screaming girls.
Nassau? He was still in the middle of the battlefield, striking victory poses like the fight hadn't ended."YEAH! You step up to me—you better be ready to hit the dirt, brother! I'm the storm, I'm the wave, I'm the SLAM THAT WASHES YOU AWAY!"
The crowd roared, even if half of it was rage.
Then the school bell rang. Everyone jolted like they'd been shocked and bolted for class.
[xXx]
After Jack recalled Nassau to his Poké Ball, the crowd was still buzzing from the upset. Marcus stood frozen, staring at his knocked-out Marill, disbelief written across his face.
Jack sauntered back toward the classroom, grinning like he'd just won the Caribbean seas. That's when the classroom door swung open, and the teacher entered.
She was a woman in her mid-twenties with smooth, slightly sun-kissed skin and delicate but striking features. Her long, black hair fell in soft waves down her back, framing her sharp red eyes that seemed to pierce through the room. But what caught most eyes—especially the boys'—were her ample curves. The subtle sway and jiggle of her figure seemed almost hypnotic.
The jiggle physics was on point.
She had striking dark eyes that seemed to scan and weigh every student before settling on Jack.
The woman's voice cut through the buzz, clear and steady. "I'm Rina Stone, your Pokémon Practical Combat instructor for this year."
She folded her arms and faced the room squarely. "This year, I'll be teaching you how to train your Pokémon properly and fight alongside them. But don't mistake me for easy—I expect discipline and hard work."
The boys whispered excitedly, their eyes lingering a little too long on Rina's figure. The girls, however, sensed a strict professionalism beneath her beauty.
Rina raised a hand, silencing the chatter instantly. "Before we begin, I need to set some ground rules."
Her tone grew serious. "Your Pokémon are still young and fragile. Their bodies are not fully developed; rushing into battle too soon risks serious injury."
She glanced at Marcus and Jack. "Not just the body—their minds can suffer too. Losing battles at this stage can leave deep scars, turning Pokémon timid and afraid of fighting."
"That fear can be permanent."
Marcus looked away, his earlier confidence fading.
"In our country, the weak do not belong in the Trainer path. If a Pokémon becomes too timid, trainers must take a reassessment test to receive another Stater Pokémon."
Rina's voice softened just a touch. "That tests can take up to six months. You're all third years. Next year is your college entrance exams. Time wasted on counseling can ruin your chances."
She paused, letting it sink in. "Abandoning a Pokémon is a crime punishable by law. And novices are only allowed one Pokémon—you can't just catch another."
Her gaze locked on Jack, who simply smiled cheekily back. The beauty resisted the urge the smack the smirk on the teenager face. The boy not once taken his eyes off her chest and clearly mocking her.
Everyone besides the students knew of Jack's Aqueducts. How can they not notice with that much land and construction on that property nearly twenty four seven. The sheer amount of elemental energy and Repel Towers made it even more obvious that Jack built a private base for his Pokémon. For the love of all things that is good and holy Jack bought a mountain....
"Jack..." Rina voiced was like as steel. She finally snapped.
"Yo lass?"
"STOP STARING AT MY CHEST!"
[XXXX]
Girl Data Base: Rina Stone
Rina Stone (リナ・ストーン)
Measurements: Height: 168 cm | Bust-Waist-Hips: 92-60-90 cm
Birthday: April 12 (Age: 26)
Hair: Long, Black, Wavy
Eyes: Sharp, Red
Skin: Smooth, Slightly Sun-Kissed
Body: Curvy, Athletic, Feminine
Personality: Strict, Disciplined, Professional, Sharp-Witted, Caring (underneath), No-Nonsense, Commanding Presence
Hobbies: Martial Arts Training, Strategy Games, Reading Battle Tactics, Cooking, Hiking, Meditation
Rina Stone — Instructor Stats
Trainer: 90
Coordinator: 40
Battler: 80
Hunter: 40
Researcher: 70
Medicine: 50