Chapter Twenty-Two: Abi’s Thoughts and Resolve

Abi’s eyes widened. “It worked?”

Steel nodded, feeling as if his mind was struggling to keep up. “It worked.”

The rough prototype was already finished; outlining the shape was a task that machines could easily handle. Succeeding on the first try? That was incredible!

Zhusuihan had already turned off the heat. The fruit sphere showed no deformation or signs of shattering, which was proof enough of success. Yet, it was almost unbelievable—could it really be done so quickly?

Zhusuihan smiled. “Mr. Steel, my technique shouldn’t have any major issues, right?”

Without any recording equipment, Zhusuihan wasn’t sure if his movements had any flaws. He made a mental note to set up equipment next time, so he could review his practice during downtime.

Steel considered. “The technique is a bit rough, but not flawed—more like a kind of rugged perfection. If mine is meticulous, yours is bold and unrestrained. The finer personal differences aren’t worth worrying about.”

Zhusuihan nodded. “Oh, then can we move on to the next step after completing the prototype?”

He had thought this would be something to tackle at least half a month later. He truly hadn’t expected Zhusuihan to be so gifted!

Steel nodded, experiencing a strange sense of emptiness, as if a lifetime of accumulated knowledge had been spent in an instant. “The fire forging—that’s the final refinement. The goal is to fuse the materials hammered just now completely with the fruit sphere.”

Steel explained, “Heavy Ball materials are simple. Just use the machine’s highest heat, and you can set the time too.”

Technology had changed so much. In Steel’s era, controlling the heat was entirely up to personal skill. Succeed, or waste materials—there was no recycling.

Zhusuihan pondered, already grasping the concept behind the fruit ball. However, in modern times, one type of fruit seemed missing—the kind called Cha Ball from the Hisui era. Of course, there wasn’t much point in recreating that one; wasn’t the Silver Poké Ball good enough?

If you dug up an ancient version from the earth, maybe it’d be worth something. If you used more materials, you could make something like the Heavy Ball from the Hisui era, though the weight would inevitably increase.

Zhusuihan had already tested the weight of the rough prototype. His mind began wandering into strange thoughts. Next time he faced some villain, after practicing his throwing technique, what if he brought a giant Heavy Ball as a weapon? Wouldn’t that make for a devastating form of attack?

Don’t ask how he’d throw it. The real question was—could you even catch it?

Of course, there were different ways to play with this idea. For example, Pokémon that could learn the “Throw” move, or muscular types who could hurl giant Heavy Balls like darts. Incineroar, for instance—a single throw, a blast of Dark-type energy to the face, followed by a massive Heavy Ball impact.

That scene would be quite something; a direct hit might just knock the enemy Pokémon out cold, eyes spinning in a daze.

“All right, the Heavy Ball is finished,” Steel announced.

Steel’s words pulled Zhusuihan out of his reverie. He saw the Heavy Ball cooling in the machine, approached carefully for a closer look. Sure enough, the surface had the Poké Ball markings etched by the machine, saving a lot of unnecessary time. After all, during forging, the fruit was already prepared to be “opened.”

The appearance didn’t matter—what mattered was functionality!

“Let me try it,” Zhusuihan said, tossing the Heavy Ball a few times, the solid feel making him smile. This throw was the weight of a true Heavy Ball—could you handle it?

Steel coughed. “Suaihan, you mustn’t use this to hit people.”

Abi immediately remembered the unlucky soul still unconscious nearby; he’d probably panic whenever he saw someone with white hair for the rest of his life.

Zhusuihan became serious. “Of course, Mr. Steel. I’m a law-abiding citizen.”

Steel sighed inwardly. “Give it a try—use the rough prototype you just made.”

“Okay.” At this stage, it was no different from making energy cubes—precision controlled by technology. It had the charm of concocting medicine with an induction stove.

After testing the process himself, Zhusuihan had mostly figured out how the fruit ball worked. In short, it was the carrot-and-stick approach. The materials fused with the black fruit could become both resistance for the Pokémon and nourishment to enhance them.

To put it another way, it was like being in a spooky dungeon—someone’s trying to make you submit, but there’s treasure on the left and beauties on the right. In short, behave yourself, and it’s all yours.

It was a simple, straightforward mechanism.

He wasn’t sure how technologically produced Poké Balls would be described, since Zhusuihan couldn’t exactly become a Pokémon and climb inside. But he’d heard that Luxury Balls were quite powerful—almost seduced even Meowth.

That was a true tough guy, a blade for love.

Steel looked at the finished product, so similar to his own, and felt a bit sentimental. He’d thought Xuecheng, someone blessed by the heavens, was already exceptional—not only strong among trainers, but a top researcher after changing careers.

Now, he had someone beside him who was just as remarkable, perhaps even more so in terms of speed of learning. This wasn’t just being blessed—it was like force-feeding! Can’t finish, can’t digest? Doesn’t matter—stuff it in, digest it later, it’ll work out.

After tidying up the machine, Steel went off to rest in the room Abi had prepared for him. Zhusuihan, meanwhile, strolled through the gym’s ecological zone with the young gym leader.

Every gym had such a facility; the type of Pokémon varied by attribute.

“But, Suaihan, do you know why gyms have different specialties?” Abi smiled. “In theory, a gym leader could be a jack-of-all-trades, not someone like us who specialize in one type.”

“Your Pokémon aren’t all single-type anyway—so it shouldn’t be a problem.” There were Bug Types with Psychic, Fighting, Fire, and so on.

If my Ground team has a Rock-type and a Steel-type, is that a crime?

“Actually, that’s not the reason. Because tactics like combined defense or expanding strike range are things trainers learn once they reach a certain level.” Abi smiled, gently stroking the green caterpillar resting on his shoulder.

“The reason gyms have designated types is simple—to showcase the possibilities of Pokémon. So usually, the types are ones with broad appeal.”

“Of course, the Yanmo City gym doesn’t count. That gym is basically a window for the Dragon Masters to interact with the public.”

“To show everyone that, besides the powerful Dragon-type Pokémon, other Pokémon can shine just as brightly.”

Abi’s eyes sparkled. “That’s true for every Pokémon. Aside from my personal love for Bug-types, being a gym leader is about demonstrating their potential to trainers!”

“Bug-types are never a synonym for weakness!”

Zhusuihan couldn’t help but clap—being the affectionate, old scoundrel that he was, he never had a fixed favorite type. As long as it was a Pokémon, he liked it.

But that didn’t stop him from appreciating people like Abi, even admiring them a bit, since he couldn’t do what Abi did.

The applause worked wonders; Abi scratched his head, a bit shy.

“Of course, there are plenty of people who fear Bug-type Pokémon, regardless of gender.”

Zhusuihan was unconcerned. “Just take it step by step. There are adorable and cool Bug-types.”

Just to name a few—Bug Bundle and Cutiefly are the cute ones; Scyther and Armored Warrior the cool ones.

“First, you need to give them a clear understanding of Bug-types. After all, you’re the expert, they’re not. You have to help them overcome their fear.”

As long as you don’t make people hug them right away, it’s fine.

Abi instantly pulled out his notebook. “Then what? Then what?”

“You’re the gym leader—organizing interest classes should be easy. Promotion isn’t an issue. Lowering vigilance and fear is the first step.”

Zhusuihan shrugged. “Bug-types have an advantage—they evolve quickly. You can let participants be involved in the raising process.”

“Sincerity for sincerity; when the Pokémon you’ve raised shines with the light of evolution, revealing a new form, that’s a beauty no one can refuse.”

Pokémon evolution is sometimes a bit abstract in certain interfaces—flashing everywhere, like everyone’s got a set of flashbangs and storms the point together.

It could light up your room like midday in the dead of night.

A University’s metal halide lamp shining straight down—I’m not kidding!

But Zhusuihan still liked watching his Pokémon evolve on screen, seeing them become something new, even if he’d memorized that form countless times.

“Oh, right—one more thing. For those with dust or fur allergies, maybe skip them. You want people to feel the charm of Bug-types, not make them suffer.”

As for using Caterpie or Weedle silk to make crafts or fishing nets, Zhusuihan explained a bit to Abi.

Abi wasn’t clueless, just lacking inspiration. He could easily extrapolate once given examples.

If Zhusuihan remembered correctly, the most popular Bug-type activity was the Bug Catching Contest.

Except for the variable prizes, everything else was routine.

Catching Pokémon in the wild to score points—aside from Bug Maniacs, if someone finds beauty in “ferocious” Bug-types, that’s a miracle.

Just organize some wholesome, accessible activities open to the public and loosen up the rules.