The Intermediate Breeder assessment was held once a month in Jubilife City, and today was no different. Wayne walked into the lounge to find ten other candidates already waiting, bringing the total to eleven participants. This was just one city—the sheer number of aspiring Breeders spoke volumes about how competitive the field had become.
At seventeen, Wayne was by far the youngest in the room. The moment he stepped through the doorway, curious eyes turned toward him. He couldn't blame them for staring. His Master-level presence naturally drew attention, and it wasn't every day someone his age attempted the Intermediate Breeder exam.
What really set him apart, though, was that he carried nothing with him. While the other candidates clutched study materials and practice guides, racing through last-minute reviews, Wayne simply found an empty chair and sat down. He closed his eyes, resting calmly as if he had all the time in the world.
The others didn't mock him. They probably assumed he was just here for the experience—a young kid testing the waters before the real attempt next year. Since the Intermediate Breeder assessment had no cap on how many could pass, there was no reason to see him as competition. No point in creating unnecessary tension.
One person did approach him, however. A tall, burly man with a gentle smile extended his hand.
"Hello. My name is Alan."
Wayne had noticed him immediately when he first entered the lounge. Alan was impossible to miss—standing even while seated, he looked like a human Machamp. His arms were thicker than Wayne's thighs, and his muscular frame gave off an intimidating aura. Yet his smile was warm and genuine, creating an interesting contrast with his imposing physique.
"Hello. I'm Wayne," he replied, shaking the offered hand.
"You look pretty young to be taking the Intermediate Breeder exam already," Alan said with genuine curiosity. "What's your background?"
"My family runs a Breeding House."
Alan's eyes lit up with interest. "Oh? What's it called?"
"Jubilife Breeding Center. It hasn't officially opened yet—the sign goes up tomorrow."
Alan launched into his own story with easy enthusiasm. He'd been a professional Pokémon boxer who retired after a leg injury and was now transitioning to become a Breeder.
"I always wanted to be a Breeder when I was younger," Alan explained. "But because I was so strong, a teacher scouted me and convinced me to become a professional boxer instead. My partner is Incineroar." His eyes burned with passion. "A real man must bond with Incineroar!"
Wayne couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm.
"After I get my Intermediate Breeder certificate, I'm planning to find a Breeding House to work at," Alan continued.
"Our Breeding Center will be hiring soon. You should come by and check it out," Wayne offered, pulling out his phone to exchange contact information.
Alan grinned widely. "I'll definitely take a look."
Just then, a young woman in a crisp uniform entered the lounge, her professional smile firmly in place. "The written test is about to begin. Please follow me."
Alan's eyes darted curiously between Wayne and the staff member. "Did she just specifically address you?"
Wayne responded dismissively. "You must have seen wrong."
"Impossible," Alan protested with conviction. "I can track Incineroar's fastest punches in the ring. I definitely saw her looking at you."
The staff member's smile faltered slightly, a hint of disappointment crossing her features. She'd fought hard to get this position, but Wayne seemed completely uninterested in her attention.
Maintaining her professional demeanor, she explained with practiced sweetness, "The written test is one hour long. You may submit your paper early if you finish before time."
When Wayne stood up, he was reminded just how tall Alan truly was—a genuine six feet eight inches. Wayne's head barely reached the man's nose.
The written test was conducted on computers. Wayne found his assigned seat and settled in, waiting for the others to do the same.
Ding-a-ling—
"The exam begins."
Wayne glanced at the first section: Pokémon types and abilities.
Question 1: What are Champion Cynthia's signature Pokémon Garchomp's type and its biggest weakness respectively?
A. Dragon/Ground; Ice
B. Dragon/Steel; Fairy
C. Ground/Dark; Dragon
D. Dragon/Flying; Rock
Question 6: In which weather condition does Abomasnow's Blizzard have higher accuracy?
Question 10: How does the Intimidate ability affect Pokémon in battle, and which abilities are immune to its effects? Please list them.
The second section covered evolution and hatching knowledge.
Question 1: Which of the following items does Sneasel need to hold to evolve into Weavile?
A. Razor Claw
B. Dusk Stone
C. Grip Claw
D. Quick Claw
Question 10: How can specific moves be inherited by a newly hatched Pokémon through strategic breeding?
Part three focused on health management and status condition treatment.
Question 1: Please list the various status conditions Pokémon can experience and their common treatment methods.
Question 2: Please explain in detail the proper usage rules for vitamins and other nutritional supplements.
While the other candidates were still carefully reading through the questions, Wayne's fingers flew across the keyboard. In less than forty minutes, he raised his hand to signal completion.
The computer displayed his score immediately: 97 points.
The other test-takers were still wrestling with the more difficult questions, some furrowing their brows in concentration.
The young staff member glanced at Wayne's score, and her smile grew even warmer. She leaned in slightly, her voice soft and helpful. "There will be a second round of assessment later. Please wait in the lounge."
"Thank you," Wayne replied politely before quietly leaving the testing room.
Gradually, those who passed began filtering back to the lounge. Alan looked up in surprise when Wayne entered. "I thought you'd already left!"
His sentiment echoed what everyone else had been thinking. After all, Wayne had submitted his paper in under forty minutes—most assumed he'd simply given up after finding the test too difficult. Why else would someone finish that quickly?
The fact that Wayne returned to the lounge meant only one thing: he'd actually passed.
The girl with neat short hair and glasses pushed her frames up thoughtfully. He passed even after answering that quickly? Maybe he's not just another pretty face after all.
Now that the written test was over, the remaining candidates finally relaxed enough to discuss their performance. Six people had left without even reaching the passing score of sixty points.
From the original eleven, only five remained: two men and three women.
"That test was quite difficult," one candidate commented. "There were even tactical analysis questions."
The girl with glasses nodded in agreement. "That's normal, actually. Excellent Breeders need to be able to give strategic advice to Trainers."
Another girl groaned in frustration. "I can't believe I got the true-or-false question about whether Gligar can learn Aerial Ace wrong! I'm so annoyed with myself!"
Alan raised an eyebrow and smiled proudly. "I scored seventy-three points. Not bad, right?"
Wayne's response was rather lackluster. "Not bad."
Alan immediately complained, "You're being way too perfunctory about it."
A woman with a confident, almost haughty expression smiled smugly. "Only seventy-three points? What's there to be proud of? I scored eighty-one."
Wayne glanced at her with mild concern. Did she really just say that? Didn't she notice Alan's build? The man could probably flatten her with a single punch if he wanted to.
To Wayne's surprise, Alan's temper proved better than expected. He didn't get angry at all. Instead, he simply yawned.
"You're not upset?" Wayne asked, genuinely curious.
Alan shrugged casually. "Why would I get angry with an old woman?"
The confident woman's face flushed red with fury. She turned sharply to the girl with glasses. "Old woman? I'm only thirty years old, and I take excellent care of myself! Can you even tell my age?"
The girl with glasses hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. She wanted to say, Yes, I can definitely tell. I'd believe you if you said thirty-five.
Before the situation could escalate further, a staff member pushed the door open.
"Next, I will announce the scores," he said clearly.
At the bottom of the score sheet, there was a small note that read: Universe's Number One Incineroar Fan