...
Three days later.
"Sorry, our club does not accept sparring trainers for the time being, you scrawny." At the entrance of a very fancy battle club in downtown Saffron City, the receptionist at the front desk said to Natsu very politely. Her smile was so sweet it gave him cavities.
"Okay, thanks." Natsu bowed, a practiced courtesy, and turned away with his Weedle.
It wasn't the first time he'd been rejected by Pokémon battle clubs, big and small, across Saffron City.
After three days of hellish training, both he and his Weedle were looking pretty damn sharp, considering their starting point. His brilliant plan was to snag a sparring job in one of these clubs.
Saffron City, being the biggest goddamn city in the Kanto Region, was crawling with trainers. Some rich bastards had set up these clubs, offering a whole range of services—battles, leisure, training, you name it—to various Trainers.
Too bad Natsu, dressed like a homeless man and armed with only a Weedle, kept running into brick walls. He was never accepted anywhere.
He was getting used to it, though. The social beatings he'd taken in his past life were far worse than this. At least these people were still polite while telling him to go screw himself.
"Don't give up, buddy. There's one last place today. If that doesn't work, we'll pack our bags and hit another city tomorrow," Natsu reassured Weedle.
The Weedle hung his head a little reproachfully. He could clearly feel that he was a big reason why Natsu kept getting turned away. Yeah, I know, I'm a freaking Weedle, not a Dragonite. Get over it.
"It's not your fault, you little shit. They don't know how hard you've worked. They're just making assumptions because you're a Weedle, thinking you're weak. But you can't lose confidence, not after we went through three days of hell training! We might not be outstanding, but we're definitely not weak anymore!" Keeping a Pokémon confident was a mandatory course for any Trainer.
A Trainer who bitched at and blamed his Pokémon for every setback wasn't going to amount to anything.
"Woo!!" Natsu's certainty gave the Weedle a much-needed boost. He nodded heavily, confidence flashing in his eyes once more.
Natsu was pleased with the change. They walked through the streets, finally arriving at a club on the fringes of Saffron City. The Silph Pokémon Battle Club. This place was part of the biggest company in Saffron City, hell, the biggest company in the entire Kanto Region: Silph Co. He'd put this place last on his list because the chances of success were basically zero. It was like trying to win the lottery with a single ticket.
He took a deep breath. Steeled his mind. And walked in.
Anna, the receptionist at the front desk, saw Natsu stride in. Her eyes scanned his rags and the Weedle on his shoulder, and she immediately knew what he wanted. She was speechless.
'How the hell does a beggar even have the balls to come to our club?'
However, her professional training kicked in. She plastered on a professional smile and stood up. "Sir, may I help you?"
Natsu stepped forward, cutting straight to the chase. "I wonder if your club is still recruiting sparring partners?"
Sure enough, Anna thought to herself. She was about to give him the usual canned rejection, but then, she caught a glimpse of the Weedle on Natsu's shoulder. She hesitated, then, with an apologetic little shrug, said, "Please wait a moment, I need to ask our director."
"Okay. Yes, no trouble at all." Natsu was a little surprised. 'What? Not an outright 'fuck off'? This is new,'
He watched Anna disappear into the staff passage, then took in the club's hall. Dazzling curtains of beaded lights, glossy tiles that reflected an unnatural orange glow, inlaid with unknown, expensive metals, huge stone pillars with intricate patterns, and murals that probably cost more than his entire past life.
The whole damn place screamed two words: Filthy Rich.
Inside the Director's office.
"Director Rotto, someone outside is asking if we're still hiring sparring trainer s. That person... seems to be relatively short on funds." After a moment of careful thought, Anna finally settled on the most euphemistic phrasing she could manage.
Rotto, the Director, a typical corporate drone in an expensive suit, put down his report. "I have to deal with this kind of problem now?" His calm appearance and cold eyes made Anna, who was staring at him, tremble. Her eyes darted around nervously.
"I, uh... I'll just tell him to go," Anna muttered, mentally cursing herself for bothering him.
"Wait." Rotto stopped her just as she was about to flee. "What Pokémon is that person using?"
"A Weedle," Anna whispered back.
"So it is." Rotto mused, deep in thought. "One of the clubs uses Weedle as a sparring partner. Has his Weedle evolved?"
"Mmm." Anna was terrified of this stoic supervisor, even though he wasn't usually overtly vicious.
The Silph Pokémon Battle Club boasted a unique feature that other clubs couldn't even dream of: it claimed to provide any Pokémon from the Kanto Region as a sparring partner. From a weak little Weedle or Caterpie to a powerful Quasi-Legendary Dragonite. Using a Dragonite as a sparring partner? The appearance fee alone would bankrupt most people. It was all designed to highlight one thing: sheer, unadulterated arrogance.
Of course, there was a secret others didn't know, but Rotto, the director, did. The real reason for having every type of Pokémon available was to provide Silph Co., their parent company, with constant data on various Pokémon for use in the production of their characteristic Poké Balls. Business, baby.
"In that case, arrange for him to fight a match. Notify the technical department to collect data. If he wins, he can stay," Rotto waved his hand, dismissing her.
"Okay, Director Rotto," Anna responded, practically flying out of the office.
Back in the lobby, Anna looked at Natsu standing patiently, admiring the club's opulent decor, and couldn't help but sigh. Lucky bastard.
"Sir, our director says to let you fight one game. If you win, you can stay," Anna announced.
Natsu's eyes lit up. "Okay, thank you!" This was a goddamn miracle!
Then, led by Anna, he entered a fairly enclosed battle room deep within the club. A research-looking staff member, complete with glasses, special equipment, and a small computer, stood nearby, seemingly preparing to measure and collect battle data.
On the opposite side of the room, a Rattata, its eyes a little dull and lifeless, remained perfectly still.
Seeing the Rattata's vacant expression, Natsu couldn't help but frown. The club wasn't making it difficult for them; a Rattata as a Weedle's opponent wasn't exactly bullying him.
It was just… the dull, quiet Rattata looked like a tool, devoid of the cunning and agility a Pokémon like a Rattata should possess. It seemed soulless.
The Weedle on Natsu's shoulder also had a sympathetic look. Different Pokémon facing different people, their fates could be vastly different.
"The rules of the battle are one-on-one. The battle ends when one side completely loses its ability to fight. If you win, you can stay, but if you fail, we can only apologize," Anna explained.
Natsu nodded and said to his Weedle: "Look, we can barely take care of ourselves right now, so don't have unnecessary sympathy in this battle. Fight hard and win. That's the real respect we can give him."
"Woo!" The Weedle agreed, jumping off Natsu's shoulders. This would be his first official battle, and Natsu's first battle since landing in this screwed-up world. And it was all about whether they could survive.
"Start!"
Anna, now doubling as a referee, dropped her arm.
The battle began.
...
(End of this chapter)