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In seven days, the number of Nosepass at Professor Birch's ranch had reached 256, while the Aron population had soared to a staggering 1,300.
They were almost stacked into a magnetic mountain, resembling an Oreburgh mine. All the electrical appliances in the house had been ruined, and Chris found himself trekking to the mountain to feed them.
Sitting at the gate of the ranch, Professor Birch lit a cigarette and sighed, feeling that bringing Chris into the Pokémon world was the result of a momentary lapse of judgment.
Chris hadn't wanted this, but the issue was that Shiny simply wasn't available—not even among the usual Pokémon like Zubat or Geodude. These 1,300 Arons had been easily captured by Chris.
Chris now believed he had been lucky to catch a Shiny Ralts and a Shiny Makuhita.
"Go to jail!" Chris muttered, picking up his phone and checking his bank account.
[Balance of Agricultural Bank: **23.42 million.]
Only this cold, tedious number could soothe his bruised heart.
In the past week, Chris hadn't found any more Shiny Pokémon, but his other catches had been rewarding.
The stolen Pokémon items he sold had netted him over 20 million, including two treasure-level items. One was a Hard Stone with a 23% boost, and the other was a Black Belt that increased power by 25%.
These items offered permanent power boosts—3% for Rock-type moves and 5% for Fighting-type moves, respectively.
The Hard Stone was being saved for a future Shiny Aron, while the Black Belt had already gone to Combusken.
Compared to Makuhita, Combusken was the Fighting Pokémon Chris really wanted to train.
Over the past seven days, his Pokémon had leveled up significantly.
Makuhita reached level 23, while Combusken and Kirlia hit level 26.
Frogadier was a bit higher at level 28, thanks to using Thief to make money, while the other Pokémon leveled up through Exp. Share.
Smeargle, after just one battle, had been brought to level 17 by Frogadier.
"Everyone, gather for a battle!" Chris called out after setting down his handheld.
Frogadier, who had been relaxing in the pool, leapt from the yard to the second-floor balcony, landing beside a sweat-soaked Combusken. The recent intense training had sharpened Combusken's skills considerably.
Kirlia sat across from Chris, alternating between Calm Mind exercises and watching shows with him.
Makuhita finally showed up, with Smeargle perched on his shoulders, wobbling as he walked, giving Chris the feeling the entire house was swaying.
"Don't go upstairs after you evolve," Chris warned, genuinely afraid the floor might collapse under Makuhita's weight.
"Maku~~ㄟ(≧◇≦)ㄏ"
Ignoring Makuhita's exaggerated whining, Chris recalled all his Pokémon into their Poké Balls.
He hopped onto his sonic bike and headed for the battle area.
Today was delivery day for Theodore, but before that, Chris had something else to handle—participating in the new military training competition.
The training event lasted fifteen days. The first three days were for registration, and the next twelve were the actual competition.
Over 300 trainers had signed up, most from the battle department. Fewer than 30 freshmen from the breeding department had joined.
After six days of auditions, the top 64 would move on to the knockout rounds, with one round per day, leading to the final on the last day.
Today was Chris's first audition.
With a screech of his brakes, he drifted around a corner and parked smoothly at the battle area.
The place was packed.
Each of the forty battlefields was filled with competitors. Not only were freshmen battling, but some senior sophomores had also come to watch. Whether they were there to see the Pokémon or just check out their juniors, nobody could say for sure.
"Battlefield No. 24," Chris muttered to himself as he located his assigned battleground from the text message on his phone.
There were exactly five minutes left before his match began.
As he walked into the venue, his opponent, a young man in a blue jacket, was already standing on the other side. Chris glanced at the text message again: his opponent's name was Tyson.
Chris handed his student ID to the examiner, then moved to his seat to wait for the match to start.
"Chris, you got this!" Amy's voice called out from the crowd.
Chris nodded at her. He spotted her immediately after entering the arena, standing next to Victoria and Tyler, whom he knew from before.
Across the field, Tyson was also eyeing Chris. "Hmph," he thought to himself. "Aside from being taller, more handsome, and richer than me, what does this guy have? How could Amy like someone like him?"
Amy, bold and striking, had a charisma that stood out even in military training. She had quickly become the center of attention, and a campus list of freshman beauties had ranked her second before it was taken down. Her popularity extended far beyond her own class, attracting seniors, sophomores, and juniors alike. As her classmate, Shao Dong was one of her many admirers.
His friends, standing beside him, silently groaned. *Maybe you should ask yourself what's better about him than you.*
One of them couldn't resist poking fun. "But didn't Amy once say in public that she wanted to see Chris's 'big baby'?"
Tyson's expression stiffened.
*Big baby… that kind of big baby?* he thought.
"So what?" he snapped back. "It could just be a Pokémon, right?!"
"Oh."
That little "oh" from his friend made Tyson's face heat up with embarrassment. Before he could retort, his friend added, "This is your chance. Amy's watching right now. If you want to impress her, nothing will grab her attention more than winning this battle."
"But just so you know, Chris scored full marks in the practical exam during the entrance tests, so take this seriously, or you'll be in for a rough match."
"You don't need to tell me," Shao Dong muttered. "I'm taking this seriously. I *have* to win, and I'll win cleanly and decisively. Not just for Amy, but for myself."
He snorted twice and added under his breath, "I'm from the battle department. If I lose to someone from the breeding department, I'll never live it down."
Before the military training exams, the breeding department and the battle department might have been on more equal footing. But after a week of intense field battles, the strength of the battle department students had grown significantly. At this point, a fair match between them felt more like a mismatch—like an art student trying to outrun an athlete.
Tyson grinned to himself. *The advantage is mine.*