The Pyrite Colosseum Battle Open arrived as scheduled.
Despite being an annual event, its popularity far exceeded Kashiwagi's expectations. The reason, of course, lay in the lavish prizes. Aside from the fact that simply qualifying earned you a Pokémon as a reward, there were various Evolution Stones and rare items on the line—more than enough to drive the trainers of Pyrite Town into a frantic scramble to participate.
The qualifying rounds followed a one-on-one format. With only a single Pokémon required, anyone had a shot at a satisfying payoff.
When Kashiwagi arrived, the main hall was buzzing. The roar of the crowd threatened to blow the roof off. Silk banners and colorful ribbons hung everywhere, and the interior was packed with a motley crew of characters, all accompanied by their Pokémon.
They cursed and grumbled as they waited in long registration lines, occasionally barking at the person in front to move faster. Remarkably, few tried to cut the line or rush the counter. Regardless of which faction they belonged to, everyone waited their turn from start to finish.
This peculiar sight gave Kashiwagi a renewed sense of the deterrent power held by Duking, the master of the Colosseum.
A fair number of Team Snagem members had chosen to participate as well. Unfortunately, he didn't see a single familiar face. After all, the number of people he actually knew in the organization could be counted on his fingers and toes.
The registration moved quickly. Before long, Kashiwagi had his participant ID card in hand. Once the tournament officially began, he would only need to tap it at the entrance to check in.
"I hope this tournament provides the catalyst for your evolution..." Kashiwagi sat on a long bench, stroking Lairon's head. "But is less than a month a bit too short for you?"
"Lair-on?" Seeing its trainer looking both expectant and worried, Lairon tilted its head curiously.
It was common knowledge that evolution could affect a Pokémon's personality. A gentle, cute Charmander becoming aloof and arrogant was a classic example, and there were cases of Pokémon going on rampages because they couldn't adapt to their new bodies.
Kashiwagi was worried he was rushing things, potentially affecting Lairon's overall development. The doctor had mentioned that Lairon was still quite young; what kind of anomalies might occur if a "child" underwent rapid, successive evolutions? As someone whose experience was limited to game mechanics, he didn't truly understand the biological implications.
Maybe I should ask Professor Rowan. He specializes in Pokémon evolution, he thought, pulling out his phone.
A phone in this world was much like playing a game without a translation patch—even with a language barrier, you could eventually brute-force your way through. Not to mention, Kashiwagi had mastered a significant vocabulary over the past month. He had already downloaded various apps unique to the Pokémon world.
For instance, the one he was opening now—PokeLine, a messaging app similar to WeChat or WhatsApp. There was also PokeSearch for browsing, and PokeBlog, which functioned like Twitter or Facebook. There were even e-commerce platforms.
Kashiwagi had to admit, coming into a Pokémon era with a fully developed internet made it nearly impossible to make money using ideas from his previous life.
He opened PokeBlog. The front page was dominated by a selfie of Raihan, the Hammerlocke Gym Leader from Galar. The man was incredibly narcissistic, uploading photos even while brushing his teeth. The key was that his fan base was massive; every post was flooded with likes.
Kashiwagi tapped the search bar, found Professor Rowan's profile from memory, and navigated to the private message interface.
"Still no reply..." Kashiwagi sighed. He had been pondering Lairon's evolution for a while and had sent a message to the Professor early on, hoping for a reaction. Even a reply from a student or staff member managing the account would have sufficed.
But his message had vanished into the void. It was understandable; researchers of that caliber were always buried in work, let alone a world-renowned figure like Professor Rowan. A reply would be a lucky break; no reply was no loss.
He turned off his phone. Before a few guys with their noses in the air could swagger over to force him out of his seat, he withdrew Lairon and stood up to leave.
It was time to battle.
----
The qualifiers consisted of three matches. Winning all three secured a spot in the main tournament.
While Lairon, with its two quadruple weaknesses, wasn't ideally suited for one-on-one combat, Kashiwagi's goals were to prove his strength and find that evolutionary spark. He intended to let Lairon handle at least one fight.
Passing through a long corridor, Kashiwagi tapped his card and entered the designated area. A familiar, semi-enclosed battlefield came into view.
He had battled at the Colosseum frequently over the last two weeks. He had fought on standard flat ground and had even been lucky enough to experience special rocky and pool-based terrains a couple of times. The only mode he hadn't touched was "Wager Battles," where both sides agreed on a price. Those matches involved too much risk; for famous trainers, bookies would set up outside, and the sight of gamblers going wild during a match—only to turn into a snarling mob against the loser afterward—remained vivid in his memory.
Round One.
The opponent came from a third-rate organization wearing a uniform Kashiwagi didn't recognize. Usually, these groups were subordinates to larger factions. Team Snagem had several of these sub-branches to manage territories with little profit or to handle tasks the main organization found inconvenient.
The situation was complex, but irrelevant to the current match.
As the red light on the wall turned green, Kashiwagi released Mawile.
"Ma-wile!"
"Ice Punch!" He barked the order as soon as he identified the opponent's Pokémon—a Sandshrew.
Mawile's legs pushed off with a bang, launching her like a missile. The icy blue glow on her right fist trailed behind her like the tail of a comet.
The opponent and his Sandshrew had never seen such a blindingly fast assault. The trainer barely got out, "Roll—"
BOOM!
The Sandshrew was sent flying through a cloud of white smoke, slamming into the wall with a thwack before sliding limply to the ground, its eyes spinning in circles.
A clean one-shot.
"The level in the qualifiers really isn't that high," Kashiwagi noted, seeing the shocked expression on his opponent's face.
While the Battle Open was popular, it was impossible for High Executive-level trainers to participate. Though they lacked the official title of an Elite Four member, they possessed temperaments that rivaled—or exceeded—them. They wouldn't deign to join such a small tournament. Executives were likely the highest rank present, and even then, probably only a few.
Kashiwagi just needed to see who he lost to and who he beat, then cross-reference those people with their standing in their respective organizations. That would give him a clear picture of where he stood in the hierarchy of Pyrite Town.
"Keep it up." He patted Mawile's head, and she leaned into his touch with a smile.
Ever since Lairon had grown stronger and more durable, Mawile had actually become better behaved. Part of that was also due to their growing bond. A few nights ago, she had even snuggled up with Chansey on his bed. In Kashiwagi's understanding, when a Pokémon is willing to sleep defenselessly near you, it's the ultimate sign of affection.