Joe watched the figures of Yuhiko, Abin, and the others disappear completely at the end of the road. His gaze dimmed for a moment, but he quickly forced out a smile.
He brushed the dust and grass clippings off his school uniform, walked up to Roy's group of three, and bowed deeply.
"Tha—Thank you... for helping me out."
He looked up, the wound on his forehead still bleeding slightly, but his smile was somewhat forced.
"But... Abin and the others aren't actually bad people."
Joe sniffled, whispering as if trying to convince himself:
"They... they're just a bit strict with me. At our Pokémon Technical Institute, there's a very special kind of friendship... called the 'whip of love'."
"They said it's to push me to improve faster, to become a Elite worthy of the Institute's name..."
"whip of love?"
Roy finally finished the last sip of soup in his bowl, placed the empty bowl casually on a flat rock nearby, and chuckled upon hearing this.
He looked Joe up and down—the frail body, the cowardly gaze, and the mix of new and old abrasions on his face and body.
"Student Joe."
Roy's tone was flat, yet carried a hint of amusement:
"You don't happen to... have some kind of special fetish yourself, do you?"
"Huh?" Joe was stunned by the question and hurriedly waved his hands. "N-No! How could I..."
"Exactly! Exactly!"
Misty nodded vigorously in agreement with Roy from the side. Then, unable to contain her curiosity, she leaned into Roy's ear and asked in a low voice, filled with innocence and a desire for knowledge:
"Hey, Roy... what kind of special fetish? Tell me about it."
Her warm breath brushed against Roy's ear, carrying a faint scent of chili oil.
Roy turned his head, glancing at Misty's close-up face, which was practically screaming "Tell me now," and her lips, which looked exceptionally rosy from the spicy food.
The corners of his mouth curled slightly as he lowered his voice, speaking at a volume only the two of them could hear:
"I'll give you a personal demonstration when there's a chance in the future."
"Go and pack up the things."
Roy picked up the empty bowl he had placed on the rock and handed it over.
"Oh... okay!"
Misty wondered in her heart why he couldn't talk about the fetish right now.
But she still reflexively took the bowl, turned around obediently, and went to join Delia, who had already mostly finished packing the hotpot stove.
Roy turned his gaze back to Joe.
To complete the mission, he first had to break the distorted concepts that had been PUA'd into this kid's head.
"You say they are helping you improve."
Roy took two steps forward, closing the distance to Joe. His tone remained flat, yet it carried an invisible pressure:
"Then tell me, today you were forced to run on the treadmill until you fell off, getting a bruised face and scraped knees..."
He pointed at the injuries on Joe's body.
"What exactly did you improve?"
"I..." Joe opened his mouth, reflexively wanting to retort, but the words got stuck in his throat.
What had he improved?
Besides being more tired, in more pain, and more pathetic... there really seemed to be nothing.
"I actually memorized all that knowledge about Pidgey long ago!"
As if to prove he wasn't worthless, Joe suddenly straightened his back and raised his voice, a flicker of weak confidence appearing:
"And... and I don't just memorize books! I've successfully trained a Pidgeot that can reach speeds of Mach 2! That's very rare even in our grade!"
When mentioning his Pidgeot, a bit of light finally returned to his eyes.
"Oh? A Mach 2 Pidgeot?"
Roy raised an eyebrow. That speed was indeed decent in the hands of an ordinary Trainer.
"Then when they asked you about Pidgey's traits and Pidgeotto's skills just now, why didn't you answer?"
Roy continued to press, his tone steady and unhurried, yet acting like a precise scalpel peeling back the fragility Joe tried to hide.
"I..."
The bit of confidence Joe had just mustered deflated instantly, like a balloon pricked by a needle.
He lowered his head, his fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of his school uniform, his voice becoming as faint as a mosquito's buzz again:
"Because... because I only know about Pidgey and Pidgeot..."
"If I answer the questions about Pidgey, they'll immediately ask me about new knowledge points I haven't previewed..."
Joe's voice was thick with frustration and helplessness:
"Those... I simply don't know those things. I can guess correctly or barely answer a few questions occasionally... but I can't keep up with new, harder questions at all."
"If... if I keep failing to answer..."
He looked up, the rims of his eyes reddening, his voice tinged with fear:
"They'll think I'm too stupid, a 'piece of rotten wood that can't be carved,' and they'll give up on me and stop'spurring' me on..."
"Then I... I'll lose this precious 'friendship' with Brother Abin and the others, I'll be isolated in the Elite Preparatory Group, and no one will want to be on a team with me anymore..."
"My mom and dad... they run a small grocery store in Celadon City. They work tirelessly from dawn to dusk, saving for years just to barely afford to send me here for the most basic Introductory Courses..."
"They have high expectations for me... I can't be kicked out, I have to stay here! As long as I stay at Pokémon Technical Institute and get a Senior Graduation Certificate, I can participate in the League Conference and repay them..."
His words were full of humble persistence and immense pressure.
"Your family isn't rich?"
At this point, Misty, who had finished packing and walked back, overheard the latter half and couldn't help but interject, her face showing clear confusion:
"Then why did you come to this kind of aristocratic Institute? The expenses here..."
"You don't necessarily have to be rich to study here!" Joe snapped his head up as if some core belief had been poked, retorting with some agitation:
"The Institute has regulations—as long as you pass the basic written test and interview and pay the tuition, you can enroll! This is an opportunity for all talented commoner Trainers!"
Seeing that Roy's group was dressed simply, he reflexively categorized them as the 'commoner Training Faction,' and his tone even carried a faint defense of 'you don't understand our Institute's Elite system.'
However, these words of his were practically walking right into a trap.
As the daughter of a Gym, Misty knew the ins and outs of so-called 'aristocratic academies' perfectly.
She stood with her hands on her hips, a beautiful eyebrow arched, as she spoke like a rapid-fire cannon:
"Yes, it's true you don't necessarily have to be rich to come here."
"And a Senior Graduation Certificate is universally accepted, allowing entry into the League Conference without having to challenge Gyms."
"But do you know how much the tuition for your 'most basic' standard is?"
Joe's face paled. Of course he knew; he remembered the heavy, weary expressions on his parents' faces every time they sent money.
"That amount is enough for an ordinary Trainer to take their starter Pokémon and travel, train, and challenge Gyms in the Kanto region comfortably for at least five years! That covers all basic expenses, with enough left over for a few nice meals!"
Misty's speech was fast as she continued to dismantle his logic:
"Then there's the 'Intermediate Standard,' which involves 'friendship battles' with aristocratic academies from other regions, inviting famous Gym Leaders or even League Elites to give lectures or serve as honorary consultants... The sponsorship fees, invitation fees, and venue fees for these activities—which one isn't astronomical? Do you think the Institute pays for these out of the goodness of its heart? In the end, isn't it all split among the students?"
"And the most ridiculous 'Senior Standard' provides high-potential Pokémon directly and conducts closed-door combat training to guarantee a recommendation for the League Conference..."
Misty looked at Joe's increasingly pale face and ruthlessly exposed the bloody reality:
"Which of these isn't built on a mountain of money? Are you sure your parents working themselves to the bone at that little grocery store can really afford to put you through the entire'senior course'?"
"Even if you're exceptionally talented and survive the introductory or even intermediate stages on scholarships... once you reach the senior stage, your classmates who pile up resources will have rare Pokémon, use top-tier Pokéblock, and hire Elites as private tutors... What do you have to compete with them?"
"In the end, you'll likely have spent your parents' life savings, endured countless 'whips of love,' only to struggle at the bottom of the Institute and end up with a diluted graduation certificate to find an ordinary job."
"Or you'll just have to go back to challenging Gyms and collecting Badge anyway."
"This... this..."
Joe was left speechless by Misty's string of realistic interrogations, his body trembling slightly.
It wasn't that he hadn't thought about these issues at all; he had just been numbing himself with fantasies like 'hard work brings rewards' and 'friendship conquers all.'
Now that Misty had laid it bare, he only felt a wave of icy despair.
"You... you're a Trainer from the Training Faction, how do you know so much about the inner workings of an aristocratic Institute?"
Joe looked at Misty again, as if grasping at a final straw.
A simple T-shirt and jeans, not a single brand name on her—she looked like just another energetic, ordinary beautiful girl on a journey.
She looked nothing like the Institute's young ladies in his memory, who arrived in luxury cars, wore custom dresses, and held their chins high in the air.
However, Misty really was a girl from a wealthy family; it was just that her values were well-developed, and she lacked the common arrogance of the rich second generation who wear nothing but designer labels.
Furthermore, her family had initially decided to send Misty to an aristocratic Institute as well.
Their family ran a city representative Gym and had a partnership with the Institute, allowing her to enroll for half the cost.
But Misty had looked into the Institute's curriculum, found it mechanical and rigid, and thought it was boring. Moreover, she learned that the best result from the Kanto Academic Faction in ten years was only the Top 16.
After all, at an aristocratic Institute, money could raise your level, and reaching the senior level granted entry to the League Conference.
To the wealthy, money was the least of their problems.
Consequently, the strength of those who went straight to the League Conference was generally not as high as those from the Training Faction.
Therefore, Misty, whose goal was to become a Water-type Pokémon Master, naturally didn't want to choose that path.
"Why do I know? Because I'm the daughter of the Cerulean Gym!" Finally, Misty confidently revealed her identity.
Joe's eyes instantly widened.
"So—So you're a young lady too!"
Joe stammered as he looked Misty over again:
"But—But you look... you don't have that... that elegant, arrogant temperament of the young ladies at our Institute at all!"
He had just finished speaking.
He saw the little bit of pride on Misty's face instantly freeze.
Then, at a speed visible to the naked eye, it transformed into a "kindly" smile.
Her fists were clenched!!
۞۞۞۞
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