"Let's give a big round of applause for contestant Nathan! His Zeraora once again utterly crushed his opponent with overwhelming power!"
On the fourth day of the elimination rounds, the commentator's voice echoed across the battlefield, immediately setting off a wave of enthusiastic cheers.
Even if some spectators still held lingering prejudice, they simply couldn't control their emotions in the face of Nathan's series of brilliant, crushing victories.
In truth, that was the very reason the audience existed in the first place.
"You did well. Keep working hard,"
Nathan said as he shook his head, looking at the boy kneeling across from him.
The opponent was a contestant about the same age as him.
At this age, his strength was already considered impressive.
But compared to Nathan?
Sorry—there was simply no comparison.
If his Treecko weren't still at a crucial stage of training, Nathan would have let it battle instead.
The defeated boy's face turned crimson, thinking that Nathan was giving a victor's speech.
Which, honestly, he kind of was.
"Contestant Nathan, what are your thoughts on the comments circulating online?"
"We heard your next opponent is Seth Cole. Any thoughts going into that match?"
"Does your silence mean you agree with the rumors?"
…
After the match ended, much to Nathan's surprise, a horde of media reporters rushed toward him.
However, the moment he heard the name Seth Cole, he immediately understood the situation.
Seth Cole — supposedly a three-time champion of a well-known battle tournament.
Somewhat like a famous boxer from his previous life.
At 24 years old, he had graduated from Imperial University.
He was considered a strong contender for the championship in many people's eyes.
However, Nathan wasn't one of those people.
Seth didn't seem to have any particularly outstanding Pokémon, nor any unique qualities.
To put it simply, he was a manufactured celebrity trainer.
He had a huge fanbase, but his strongest Pokémon was only a level 47 Fearow.
"Tch, either they sent him on purpose or…"
Realizing this clearly wasn't part of the Mist family's plan, Nathan immediately lost interest.
He didn't even bother entertaining the reporters, slipping away like an eel using his psychic powers.
By the time Nathan left, the crowded reporters still hadn't realized he was gone.
Back at the hotel, Nathan felt a bit bored.
"Hey, Pangoro, do you want to battle tomorrow?"
He asked, surprised as he watched the Pangoro walk over after finishing its Pokéblock.
Ever since reaching the Elite level, Pangoro hadn't been very battle-hungry.
Its focus had shifted almost entirely toward developing Energy Balls and exploring Sage Mode.
"Gor! Gor!"
Pangoro growled twice and gestured its frustration.
Through Viridian Power, Nathan understood — it wasn't that Pangoro was holding back its fighting spirit.
Rather, it had hit a bottleneck in developing its Energy Ball technique.
Although swallowing the Energy Ball gave Pangoro a massive boost in all attributes,
it struggled to fully control the power.
In other words, Pangoro hadn't even stepped through the door of Sage Mode yet.
At most, it could only see the threshold.
"Sigh, alright. I'll think of something,"
Nathan said, patting Pangoro's fluffy shoulder and sighing.
Although Pangoro's potential was already very good, it was impossible for it to develop new skills completely on its own.
Without the influence of this world's innate adaptation, it would have been pure fantasy.
Skills for Pokémon were like instinct —
just as humans are born with hands and can learn to use chopsticks.
But you wouldn't expect a human to pick up molten lava with their bare hands, right?
Their bones would melt instantly!
Maybe it wasn't a perfect analogy, but that was the reality.
For a Pokémon to develop combo moves or brand-new techniques like Nathan did was normally impossible.
Unless it was a legendary Pokémon.
And not just any legend — it would have to be someone broken like Mewtwo.
"Speaking of which, I wonder if Mewtwo exists in this world?"
"If it does…"
Lost in whimsical thoughts, Nathan drifted off to sleep lying on his bed.
—
The next morning, his phone buzzed with a notification:
[Dear contestant Nathan Vesper, congratulations! Your outstanding record has allowed you to successfully stand out from the tough elimination rounds.]
[Please arrive at the Rock Field in the East District by 9:00 AM today for the Round of 32 qualifiers.]
Reading the message, Nathan wasn't surprised at all.
The tournament rules weren't simple single-elimination —
they also took into account the number of victories and the Pokémon used in each match, compiling all the data.
Maybe a decade ago there would've been shady backstage deals,
but now, with everything transparent and public online, that was basically impossible.
Only the top final thirteen contestants would make it into the official National Tournament held in the capital.
In other words, only one hundred and four elite trainers across the entire country would earn a spot!
At that point, no weaklings would remain.
Only trainers with Elite-level Pokémon could hope to earn a ranking.
And only the National Tournament would boast battles of such high quality, drawing attention from across the nation.
Shaking his head, Nathan first fed his Pokémon and then took care of his own breakfast and grooming.
Finally, he lazily made his way to the battlefield.
There, he saw Seth Cole already standing at one side, expression solemn, body built like a gym trainer.
Judging by the way Seth had been waiting, Nathan subconsciously glanced at his phone.
" Eight fifty-five AM… I'm not late, am I?"
Scratching the back of his head, Nathan asked the referee.
"No, you're right on time,"
the referee assured him.
Hearing the answer, Nathan nodded, then couldn't help but glance at Seth with a weird expression.
If he wasn't late… then this guy was just pretending for show?
Well, it made sense.
It was impossible to become a trending figure without a bit of showboating.
However...
"The Round of 32 has officially begun! Let's see what spectacular battles these young talents from across the country will bring us!"
"First up, we have—eh? Wait, why is contestant Seth Cole already on stage?"
The confused voice of the commentator immediately turned Seth's attempt at grandstanding into a comedy show.
The audience erupted into laughter.
Even his diehard fans struggled to hold back their giggles.
"Hey, I gotta ask — did you hit your head at a fighting tournament or something?"
"Don't you know commentators usually start their introductions right on the dot?"
Nathan teased, struggling to suppress his laughter as he spoke to Seth Cole.
Seth's face turned beet red, like a monkey's butt.
"Mind your own damn business! Today, I'm going to step on you and use you as my springboard!"
Unable to vent his anger elsewhere, Seth Cole directed all his fury at Nathan.
…
"Tch, guess those rumors were true — today's rising star trainers really are pathetic,"
Nathan clicked his tongue and marveled.
The "pretty boys" from his previous life had already been bizarre enough, and it seemed this world had its fair share too.
Not that it mattered much.
Nathan only lightly mocked Seth.
Seth, however, was thoroughly enraged.
"Just a stepping stone should know his place! Don't think having one Elite-level Pokémon makes you invincible!"
he roared.
"Go! Machamp!"
With a loud shout, Seth Cole released a very muscular Machamp onto the field.
"Level 43, trained decently,"
Nathan commented after assessing the Machamp's condition.
Unfortunately, Zeraora had already broken through the Gym Leader level during their time in the mystic realm —
and now it was level 44.
Thanks to the past week's worth of challengers, Zeraora had gained plenty of experience.
While some had been brainless, many were actually smart and well-prepared.
"Come out, Zeraora!"
Taking the Poké Ball from his waist, Nathan crossed his arms and said:
"Teach them a little lesson. Show these little celebrities how things really work."
"Zoar!"
A golden figure burst onto the field.
Zeraora gave a low growl and nodded.