"Anyway, I don't think this school is all that great," Misty huffed, crossing her arms with a pout.
Relying on nothing but theory to measure a Trainer's skill? That only created students with stiff, predictable tactics and no ability to adapt when the heat of a real battle hit.
"If they ever faced an actual opponent," she continued, "they'd crumble the moment things didn't go by the book. Even if they graduate, they'll just end up as cannon fodder at the Indigo Plateau Conference."
"Only someone who's never studied here would say that." Joe's brows furrowed, his pride stung by her words. "Even if I'm at the bottom of my class, my strength is equal to a Trainer who's already earned two Gym Badges. I wonder what level you're at?"
"Me?" Misty shot back without hesitation, her eyes narrowing. "I'm the Gym Leader of Cerulean City. If you want to talk like that, then let's have a real battle. Let me see how strong this so-called two-badge Trainer really is."
Joe's lips curled into a smirk. "Cerulean Gym? The weakest Gym in Kanto? I beat it easily in a simulation match." He spun the monitor toward them, loading a battle record. On the screen, his Weepinbell launched two sharp Razor Leaf attacks and cleanly knocked out a Starmie.
Misty's forehead twitched with a comical pound-mark vein. "You're seriously comparing a canned computer program to the real thing?! That's not even close to a real battle!"
Joe gave a shrug. "It's not that different…"
"Wait, Joe, was that a simulated battle you just ran?" Ash suddenly cut in, curiosity flashing in his eyes.
Joe blinked, confused by Ash's excitement. "Uh, yeah. Why?"
"You can set levels, items, even Abilities however you want, right?" Ash leaned closer to the screen, his voice rising with enthusiasm.
"That's right."
Ash's eyes practically lit up like stars. "Can I try? I've never seen something like this before!"
In his group chat with the other versions of himself, the veterans had told him about these kinds of battle simulators. Compared to real combat, they were stiff, turn-based systems, "I go, you go", that lacked the unpredictability of a live fight. But they were great tools for refining tactics.
One of the seniors, Tactician Ash, was said to have developed countless strategies in simulators before testing them with real Pokémon. No wonder even Champion Ash couldn't match him when it came to raw theory.
So although Ash knew simulations weren't "real battling," the chance to finally see one in action made his fingers itch with excitement.
"Of course! I'll teach you." Joe brightened, happy to have someone take genuine interest. "Here, you set the difficulty… this lets you adjust the Pokémon's stats… and here's where you pick their held items…"
Brock and Misty exchanged looks. Ash? The same Ash who charged headfirst into every fight, the guy who lived for the thrill of real battles… suddenly interested in a simulator? 『Σ(ﾟдﾟlll)?』
After Joe's detailed explanation, Ash slid into the computer chair. His fingers fumbled over the keyboard for only a second before he confidently navigated the menus. He set up his team, then, without hesitation, clicked straight to Elite Four difficulty.
"Eh?!" Joe nearly fell out of his chair.
On the simulator, Trainers could freely select Pokémon, adjust levels, assign moves, and even add held items. After building a team, they picked a difficulty level, each one modeled after different ranks of real-world Trainers. Elite Four mode was no joke: the opponents were AI programs built from the strategies of actual Elites from across the regions, with Pokémon all above level 70 and battle tactics tuned to near perfection.
Of course, you couldn't just cheese the system by slapping Level 100s on your team, the simulator capped them to match the opponent's strength. Still, this gave ordinary Trainers a chance to see what it was like to battle at the highest levels, and more often than not, it humbled them fast.
Countless Trainers had stormed in, convinced that the only thing separating them from the Elites was a level gap. "If my Pokémon were just as strong, I could totally win!" they said. Then the AI wiped the floor with them, showing the true difference wasn't only raw power, it was command skill, timing, adaptability.
That was the whole point of the program. To shatter arrogance. To remind everyone that battling an Elite or Champion wasn't just about stats, it was about mastery.
And Ash… had just challenged it with this team:
Two Hippopotas (Level 1, Sand Stream, holding Smooth Rocks).
Two Aron (Level 1, Sturdy, holding Shell Bells).
One Ferrothorn (Level 70, Iron Barbs, holding Leftovers).
One Gyarados (Level 70, Intimidate, holding a Choice Scarf).
Joe gawked. "Hey, hey, hey! Did you mess up the settings? That's Elite Four level difficulty! Pokémon in that bracket start in the seventies. And you… you picked two level ONE Hippopotas and two level ONE Aron?!"
Gyarados and Ferrothorn stood tall on the simulator's roster, both at level 70, but the other four slots made Joe's jaw practically hit the floor. Two Hippopotas. Two Aron. All at level 1.
Joe rubbed his eyes, wondering if the monitor was broken. "This… this has to be a mistake, right? Who in their right mind would enter an Elite Four-level battle with four Pokémon that faint from a sneeze?"
Moreover, Joe had only vaguely seen the six Pokémon Ash chose. Besides Gyarados, he didn't know the others. Those Pokémon didn't seem to be from Kanto.
"Whether I can win or not," he said, voice steady and filled with that familiar reckless bravado, "I'll only know after I try. Just watch."