Chapter Seventy-Five: The Courier Bird—How Trainers Should Properly Handle Double Standards

Zhuyearhan pulled out his phone and took a photo. He had no use for the pictures himself, but they could be used to bribe the raging Gyarados in the academy, who should be able to make sense of them.

“So, in simpler terms, this is a place to strengthen the training of Dragon Rage?”

Uncle Liu shook his head. “That’s just a metaphor. What’s truly useful is the spiritual aspect, as demonstrated by your little Fairy Milk just now.”

Zhuyearhan patted the little Fairy Milk on the head. “So this is a site for weighted training. The Dragon Tamer division will love it.”

“Then here’s the question: why are the Dragon Tamers interested in Gyarados’s training grounds? It has ‘dragon’ in its name, but it’s not a true dragon.”

Uncle Liu and Akju fell into a strange silence. The Messenger Bird snickered on Zhuyearhan’s shoulder.

“Well, the concept of dragons isn’t just about type—it’s about appearance too, right?” Uncle Liu explained. “In Smoke Ink City, you’ll find all sorts of dragons: Gyarados, Charizard, Dragonite. You get what I mean.”

Zhuyearhan:...

Wasn’t this identical to the explanations trainers gave in his previous life?

Akju cleared his throat. “It’s too complicated. Let me give you the simplest explanation: the core of the Dragon Tamer clan has never been dragon-type Pokémon, but themselves.”

“And why are they called Dragon Tamers, not Fire Tamers or Water Tamers? That’s something you’ll have to ask their ancestors.”

Fire Tamers, Water Tamers, Thunder Tamers—the more he heard, the more absurd it sounded.

He imagined the bug-catching kids or the mountain climbers, if they ever made a name for themselves and passed down their preferences through their family lines, might create such distinct attribute clans.

He wondered if there might even be a Foot Tamer clan.

Zhuyearhan shook off the bizarre thoughts. “So the Dragon Tamer clan pays a premium for their Gyarados, and the League profits from the deal?”

“Indeed. We may not understand, but that doesn’t mean the Gyarados clan doesn’t. Gyarados can glean much from the fossilized scale patterns—not just the spiritual abstractions, but even the movements of their ancestors are a valuable inheritance.”

“Besides Dragon Rage, there’s Dragon Dance—a rage dance unique to Gyarados.”

He felt a pang—though the topic was about quadruple weakness to electricity, his mind wandered to quadruple weakness to ice.

Uncle Liu continued, “To put it simply, it’s a combo move. You’ve seen Xu Cheng’s Dragonite—it’s a pure monster. The power of the dragon attribute grants it longevity, and it’s still at its peak.”

“Let me put it this way—have you seen the combo of Extreme Speed and Dragon Dance? Performing Dragon Dance within Extreme Speed, adjusting rhythm and posture, allows for pure physical attacks: Iron Mountain, elbow strikes, spinning side kicks, etc. Xu Cheng was a skilled fighter in his youth, and his Dragonite learned much from him.”

Zhuyearhan responded with a slow question mark.

Uncle Liu snorted. “On this point, I agree with Kikuko: Xu Cheng has become rather lax these past years.”

The Messenger Bird sat silently on Zhuyearhan’s shoulder, plucking a feather to tease Fairy Milk, as if babysitting.

He thought to himself, Trainer, you really don’t blush, do you?

You claim the muscular old man is lax, but you’re hardly any better. Your training only resumed after the birth of this human-shaped Togepi; you two are equally matched!

Any time he spoke, the one under him could understand perfectly, like telepathy.

Forget it, they were family—no need to push Uncle Liu harder.

Akju secretly marveled. He’d always heard the famous Professor from New Town was formidable, but their dealings were mainly in research.

After all, Professor Oak’s championship in the Quartz League was so long ago that even Akju considered it ancient history.

“With things settled here, I should be able to return to the academy, right?”

Zhuyearhan scratched his head. “Doesn’t seem like there’s much fun left here, and with all this commotion, fishing is out of the question.”

“Soon, the camp will send out notices for phased withdrawals.”

Leaving the mine, Uncle Liu waited for Akju to depart before turning to Zhuyearhan.

“Don’t listen to Akju’s nonsense. My expectations for you aren’t to become the Gym Leader of Kaji, nor even the Elite Four or Champion.”

“How you live your life is up to you, just as you told Xu Cheng and me: the past cannot bind you, and the present and future are entirely up to you and your companions.”

Zhuyearhan nodded. “For now, I’m mainly waiting for funds.”

He still had two large sums outstanding, and after returning to the academy, he needed to craft Fairy Milk’s Poké Ball.

Originally, this should have happened immediately, but he’d been suddenly hauled to Lake of Rage by a transport plane for medical support.

“By the way, Uncle Liu, I saw a trainer in the academy with a Dragonair—must be a member of the Dragon Tamer clan you mentioned.”

“Quite normal—a young man, right? The Dragon Tamers are building him up, introducing him early.”

Uncle Liu said, “I think his name is Lance. He’s already well known among trainers and gearing up to challenge this year’s Quartz League.”

Oh, starting at the Elite Four level, huh.

Zhuyearhan was curious. “Has he challenged you?”

“Yes, he has. His system is solid, but the gym battle rules limited his performance.”

Uncle Liu pondered. “He seems to possess extraordinary powers, but I couldn’t discern their nature.”

Zhuyearhan was surprised. “You can’t identify his supernatural abilities?”

“It feels strange—different from the usual powers, like there’s a mix of something else.”

Uncle Liu shook his head. “It could even be two types.”

Two types?

Zhuyearhan grinned, thinking that Lance in this timeline might have received an epic upgrade.

He had both the Evergreen Power and the Dragon Tamer’s Power.

“Next, I’ll return directly to Kaji Gym to deal with some League troubles.”

Things were already better—the League hadn’t sent his friends to persuade him.

If another gathering happened, Uncle Liu would have to consider freezing Xu Cheng.

He had no choice—Xu Cheng’s health made freezing him feasible.

“I almost forgot, I ought to return this to you.”

Back at camp, Uncle Liu led Zhuyearhan to his tent and uncovered a rain tarp.

Beneath it was a pure black stone monument inscribed with white letters, taller than Zhuyearhan himself.

“I cleaned up the grime on this monument. I’d meant for Messenger Bird to return it to you, but now it’s convenient to restore it directly.”

Uncle Liu patted the monument. “If you’re interested in your past, I suggest finding a trustworthy institution to investigate the geological composition of this stone—see if you can locate a similar area.”

“Bailey.”

Messenger Bird rolled its eyes—thank goodness it was Zhuyearhan this time, or it would have been pure exploitation.

“Thank you.”

Zhuyearhan touched the monument. There was no dramatic glow or the emergence of a mythical beast cub from within.

He simply felt the stone was cool to the touch, and whoever wrote the inscription had remarkable calligraphy—he could see the true brush strokes.

“This inscription—I had Xu Cheng help search ancient texts across regions, but found nothing.”

Uncle Liu said, “In my view, that Dragon Tamer boy is even more legendary than you. This year, he’ll at least win the tournament championship.”

“As for whether he’ll leap straight to the Elite Four, that’s up to him.”

Zhuyearhan placed the monument inside the incense burner, planning to visit Hoenn and investigate its ‘origin site’—like dating an antique, perhaps he could pry a piece from the stone chamber.

Uncle Liu sat in his chair; the Messenger Bird, perceptive as ever, flew over and poured him a cup of hot tea.

“How’s academy life?”

“Fine, except Lapras and Fairy Milk can’t understand much.”

“That’s normal.”

Uncle Liu smiled. “Human and Pokémon knowledge are two separate systems.”

“By the way, are you planning to enter the regional tournament?”

“Unless something unexpected happens, the Quartz League will split into Kanto and Johto in the next couple of years.”

Uncle Liu sipped his tea. “If you enter the regional tournament now, you might earn a limited title in your records—everyone will know you’re a veteran.”

Zhuyearhan:?

Classic case of selling a skin and adding ‘limited’ for a price hike, huh.

“Never thought you’d make such a joke.”

“Just learning to understand the younger generation’s way of thinking.”

Uncle Liu said, “Oh yes, that kid called Dou came to Kaji Gym looking for you. His Chikorita has evolved into Bayleef—and is even more fond of jumping.”

Zhuyearhan was surprised. “That kid—has he already qualified for the regional tournament?”

The rule for gym challenges—collecting eight badges to enter the regional tournament—was actually the second version of the tournament rules.

Previously, the Quartz League allowed direct entry through open qualifiers.

In short, you could encounter the flower shop lady with a Bulbasaur or the swim trunks boy with a Gyarados in the qualifiers.

Later, to emphasize the importance of gym badges, the rule was added that collecting eight badges guaranteed entry.

It was like the world championships in esports—even the teams who made it there were impressive.

Even the underdog ‘point-giving’ teams had overcome countless obstacles to qualify.

There were countless matches in the regional tournament, but the most memorable were those few: the awakening of the master, Greninja’s fierce battle with Mega Sceptile, and the finals with the Water Absorb Charizard.

Ash’s first Quartz League match was interesting too—after drawing the Water field, he temporarily had Professor Oak send over his Kingler.

It was the plot of an emergency substitute saving the world.

That loudmouth magician didn’t even compete before opening champagne—far more excessive than a halftime celebration—only to be utterly crushed by Kingler, who was sent in moments before.

Kingler even performed an on-field evolution, becoming a Giant Claw Crab and single-handedly defeating the magician.

Truly, Professor Oak’s backyard was the real hidden paradise.