Jason stared at the Pawmi that popped out of the Poké Ball and was baring its teeth at him—and the rock hanging in his chest finally went thunk and dropped.
Wait… that's it?
The little orange electric mouse looked fluffy and feisty, its tiny fists clenched like it was saying "come at me, bro." But it was still just an unevolved Pawmi.
Which meant, in this point of the timeline…
This perky upperclassman Nemona hadn't finished the Champion's path yet. She might've only just become a trainer.
In that case—no problem.
Jason instantly felt confident again. Even if he couldn't win against a newbie trainer, getting away should be easy enough, right?
While he was busy with his inner drama, Nemona had already gone full battle mode. Her high ponytail swayed in the breeze, a healthy flush spread across her cheeks from excitement, and battle light flashed in her bright eyes.
She stepped forward and swept her arm, shouting at a volume that could blow the roof off:
"Alright! Ditto, quickly use Transform!"
"…"
Jason froze.
A giant question mark—the manifestation of his mental state—seemed to float over his jelly body.
Uh, ma'am, who even are you?
You haven't caught me yet. How are you already giving orders?
This is like starting the dinner and realizing you forgot the rice—vibes-only participation, huh?
Looking at her "I'm so brave" face, his brain's nearly overheated. He seriously suspected that even if he turned tail and ran now, this girl would chase after him cheering him on.
This wasn't just an unconventional thought process—that was a full-on missing brainstem.
Forget it. Sparring with her won't make me stronger.
If she wants a transform, I'll show her a transform.
And I'll show her what real "tech" looks like.
His body flashed—not into a Pawmi like she expected, but into a blue crystal Pokémon hovering in midair.
Glimmet. The very entry he'd logged before climbing out of the crater.
"Pawmi, use—uh… huh?" Nemona started to call an attack, then stalled. Her pretty brows knit; you could almost see the question mark over her head. She blinked, eyes flicking between Glimmet-Ditto and her Pawmi, utterly baffled.
According to her Naranja Academy textbooks, Ditto's Transform should copy the opponent exactly. So what was with the Glimmet? A failed transform?
But even a failed transform shouldn't turn into some other Pokémon…
While she was stumped, Jason seized the opening. No breathing room for the opponent!
"Now!"
He roared inwardly. As Glimmet, he immediately channeled energy. His crystalline petals trembled, a faint halo spread, and his outline seemed slicker and swifter.
Rock Polish! Speed up!
"Not good!" Nemona snapped back to reality as his buff finished. She realized she'd underestimated this talking Ditto. Whatever the reason for the Glimmet form, it had just used a setup move right in front of her. You don't zone out mid-battle!
"Pawmi! Don't be afraid! Use Quick Attack!"
"Bring it on." Jason wasn't fazed. With boosted Speed, he was sure he could dodge and then counter with Rock Throw.
He had the whole script in mind: dazzle them with speed, land a stylish ranged attack to seal the deal, then make a cool exit under admiring gazes…
Yeah, no. Reality is cruel.
As Pawmi streaked in like a white bolt, Jason's brain yelled "dodge left!"
But his body might as well have been set in plaster—half a beat slow.
"I'm dod— I'm dodging! Move! Legs, move! …Right. I don't have legs!"
He screamed internally, but the Glimmet body just couldn't keep up with his thoughts. No executing the legendary "Just Dodge™."
Only then did he realize the fatal oversight.
Real battles aren't video games.
In a game, you press a key and the character performs the perfect animation. In reality? You have to control yourself, coordinate your body, and nail the timing.
It's like a keyboard racer being tossed into a real car—can't even tell the gas from the brake.
Jason was that keyboard guy. Top-tier Pokémon tactics, zero experience piloting this temporary body.
He could run. Fighting? Not so much.
"Bang!"
No suspense—Pawmi's Quick Attack slammed him cleanly. The impact sent Glimmet-Ditto spinning a few times; he nearly fell apart midair. Thanks to Toxic Debris, he scattered a field of Toxic Spikes across the ground.
"Damn it!"
Gritting through the pain, he grabbed a small rock and hurled it at Pawmi. But he was off-balance; the Rock Throw went wide, grazing Pawmi's ear and punching a small crater in the dirt beyond.
"That's it?" Nemona eyed his "outline-tracing" aim, and her tension vanished, replaced by pure confidence. She flicked her hand and called, "Don't move—there are Toxic Spikes everywhere. Use Electric Shock!"
A weak current zapped straight into Jason.
"Urrrgh—!"
Paralysis flared through him. He couldn't hold the transformation any longer; with a wet splut, he reverted to the familiar purple jelly and hit the ground hard, bouncing twice.
Defeated. Fast, clean, and embarrassing.
Staring up at the blue sky, he sighed long and deep.
"Welp… guess I'm getting caught after all…"
But…
His eyes shifted to the girl, hands on hips, grinning triumphantly. Sunlight rimmed her hair in gold; the spirited look actually suited her.
Fine. If the trainer catching me is Nemona, I can live with that. I could even try the Champion's path that way.
"Heh-heh!" Nemona puffed her chest, basking in victory. "I knew it! I am a genius trainer!"
She pulled a fresh Poké Ball from her belt, slid a finger across it with dramatic flair, struck her coolest pose, and hurled it at Jason on the ground.
"Go! Poké Ball!"
He watched the red-and-white sphere whistle through the air in a graceful arc—sailing perfectly over his head.
Whoosh—
He could even feel the breeze as it passed.
Then it smacked into a distant tree with a dull thunk, dropped limply to the ground, and rolled twice before coming to rest.
Silence fell.
Nemona froze mid-throw. Jason froze in his "ready to be caught" pose.
Uh… what?
You can miss that?