Chapter 46: The Second Lesson

When devising moves, one must always consider their area of effect and counters; it stands to reason that tactical choices require even greater deliberation. The traits of a team are one thing, but the unfolding of tactics is another entirely—the degree of success depends chiefly on the coordination between trainer and Pokémon.

Zhu Suihan jotted down several key points; these lessons were quite straightforward for him. He possessed particular insight regarding weather phenomena. If the Three Dragons of the Unova region embody the union of spirit and Pokémon—symbols of belief, ideals, and the paradoxical unity of truth and dreams—then the two fools of Hoenn, along with the supreme Sky Pillar insect soaring above, are incarnations of nature’s force. Whether weather or terrain, the ultimate aim of cultivation is the Primal Sea and the End Land—much like how every parent tells you to strive for those few prestigious schools, to ascend the peak of life.

Even Rayquaza, which sounds harmless enough, is far from benign. The circulation of ocean currents and the shifting of monsoons can be seen as manifestations of natural weather and terrain. If Rayquaza were to unleash its air lock—what could be called the “purification” power—Zhu Suihan surmised it could even suppress these phenomena. They are nature itself; every action they take bears the hue of catastrophe.

Thus, when performing field medicine or disaster relief, every Joy must attend to one crucial detail: the protection of medical equipment. Though the topic was weather and terrain, the lesson ultimately led back to medical practice. For instance, in verdant terrains where plants grow excessively, medical instruments must be placed carefully and steadily, lest they topple mid-treatment. In torrential rain, tents and shelters must be erected first, and the Pokémon's attributes must be considered when preparing for treatment. Water-averse Pokémon, for example, require drying before any procedures.

The teacher offered an example. On the slide, a video played: a lab-coated doctor wielding a mighty hammer, striking the back of a Rhyperior with considerable force. Were this not at Joy Academy, Zhu Suihan would have suspected it was some damnable abuse footage.

With a resounding cry, the Rhyperior collapsed, spewing muddy water from its mouth in great gulps. “This is a very typical medical case,” the teacher paused the video. “When a flood struck, Pokémon from the mountain sought human aid. Local doctors and Joys responded at once.”

“This Rhyperior chose to block the breach with its own body, buying precious time for its companions in the forest.” “As a result, torrents of muddy water flooded into Rhyperior’s body, and debris clogged the crevices in its rocky shell, impeding its joints.” The teacher resumed the video: “Though Rhyperior gained precious time, it was swept away by the flood.”

Zhu Suihan: … Understood. Unable to move its joints, forced to swallow mud—Rhyperior was like a turtle weighed down with iron, sinking and drifting with the current.

The video’s conclusion confirmed Zhu Suihan's suspicions. Besides the doctor and patient, there appeared a Venusaur with a look of deep suffering—it was evidently the doctor's partner, and most likely the one who dragged the iron-laden Rhyperior from the flood.

Truth be told, this must have been a stern test for Venusaur's vine whips. The treatment continued onscreen: the doctor’s relentless strikes forced the Rhyperior to expel the remaining dirty water.

Afterward, Venusaur used its vines to bring over a hose, swiftly cleaning debris from Rhyperior’s shell in concert with the doctor's tools. Only then came the drying process, followed by medicine and nutrients, and finally Venusaur applied Sleep Powder to the patient's face, sending Rhyperior into slumber to recover.

“Joy Academy will teach you battle skills, and the reason need not be elaborated. As for encouraging you to train your bodies, you’ve surely seen why.” The teacher indicated the video: “It isn’t just for your own health, but also because of the Pokémon.”

“Not all Pokémon are soft-bodied. When treating those with sturdy builds and large sizes, physical strength is essential.” “To treat them, you must possess the corresponding physique.” Zhu Suihan instinctively compared himself—the doctor’s hammer on screen was the construction-site variety, demanding considerable endurance. With minor adjustments, it could easily serve as a skull-crusher.

Moreover, this is treatment—urgent, life-saving treatment, allowing no time for rest. Eighty consecutive strikes are a responsibility to the patient. It means the physical toll of such a procedure is even greater.

So, Joy Academy teaches not only needlework, but also heavy lifting. Rhyperior’s build is moderate, but if it grew a few sizes larger, perhaps Regigigas could use it as a fitness ball, spinning it in its hand. If faced with a Steelix, Zhu Suihan could scarcely imagine how the treatment would unfold.

Indeed, Pokémon are indispensable in the treatment process. Consider Brock, for example: when Ash and his friends encountered him in the mountains, Brock attempted to catch a giant Onix. He personally rescued a Sandshrew trapped in its rocky crevice—something no ordinary person could accomplish. The standard approach, as shown with Venusaur, is to rely on Pokémon's strength.

As for even larger ones, Zhu Suihan thought it unlikely; encountering a Steelix was frightening enough. Typically, “large Pokémon” refers to the likes of Nidoking or Aggron.

Suddenly, Zhu Suihan understood why people in the Pokémon world possess monstrous constitutions. Trainers, for instance, deepen their bonds with Pokémon through repeated interactions, sometimes massaging them for relaxation.

Take Rhyperior in the video—as “ordinary” as its flesh may seem, it is no easy task. To give Machamp a full-body massage, you must first be strong enough to press its muscles. Over time, even without striking musculature, your physical abilities would undoubtedly improve.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class. Zhu Suihan reviewed his notes and suddenly thought that Floatzel would make an excellent medical assistant. Compared to Volcarona—once revered as the sun and notoriously hard to find—Floatzel was easy to pair and widely used at weather research institutes.

Should severe weather arise, one could use attribute resources to help Floatzel change form, ensuring a stable climate in the treatment area. Though it might cost more, a reliable environment allows doctors to treat patients without distraction.

Of course, Paldea is another matter. Zhu Suihan found no information about Paldea, so he couldn't be sure what conditions prevailed there. Was it the power of that disk-shaped turtle in Area Zero, or was Paldea truly a paradise, teeming with rare Pokémon?

Speaking of which, when Zhu Suihan first saw the image of the disk turtle, the segments of its shell gave him a peculiar feeling.

Mr. Arceus, or perhaps Mrs. Arceus, do you have any relatives who wear stone tablets as turtle shells?

Even now, Zhu Suihan suspects the terrain of Area Zero was formed when the original form of Terapagos descended, smashing the land as it did so.

The first class left a good impression. Thanks to the explosive technological prowess of the Pokémon world, the greatest challenge Joys face is dealing with severe injuries. Minor wounds require no intervention, but serious injuries are a nightmare.

Who can predict how urgent the next trainer entering the Pokémon Center will be, or from which region their injured partner hails? Not only must you memorize the details of nearly every Pokémon, as a humanities student, but you must also possess the precision of a science student—where a single digit can spell disaster.

It is, admittedly, a grueling task, but fortunately the centers are equipped with computers and Pokédexes. If all else fails, you can connect remotely for help.

Too many people seeking experts? No problem—call a young person. If they can’t solve it, then the experts will step in.

“The classroom for the second period, found it.” Thankfully, his previous life’s experience had not faded entirely; locating classrooms, a basic passive skill, still served him well.

Unlike the first class, which blended theory with practical cases, the second was pure history. Zhu Suihan sensed little difference, however.

The history of the Pokémon world is crudely divided into three stages.

The first, the Mythic Era—some call it the Era of Creation. The name alone reveals its connection to legendary and mythical Pokémon. Tales of Arceus’s creation, the Pillar King dragging continents, all belong to this epoch.

The second stage is more absurd, reminiscent of the most dramatic special chapters—the Age of Chaos, also known as the Dark Era. Humans enslaved Pokémon, Pokémon enslaved humans, kingdoms and empires rose and fell.

It sounds a bit like the Pokélantis Dynasty, or the time of Orudran, the era of Aura Guardians, when all Pokémon still bore the label of “monsters.” The prevailing theme was mutual destruction—no alternative outcomes.

Within this, the classic narrative unfolded: the righteous and orderly faction, and the oppressed Pokémon and humans, united to overthrow the reign of darkness. Justice triumphed over evil; heroes slew the dragon.

Fortunately, in the era handed down to us, the hero has not become the dragon. Perhaps his blood was not pure enough; at most, the hero is a half-blood, with some distance yet to grow into a dragon. Such things need not be tested by sacrificing a younger brother.

Thus began the third stage: the history that persists to this day, the world emerging from darkness and bloodshed.

The Era of the League.