"Middle-Part, use Discharge!"
"Hm?"
On the bank, Natsume, who had been fiddling with his Ultra Ball, looked up toward the foam platform where Middle-Part was standing.
It actually learned Discharge? That means Middle-Part must be at least level 32.
Tsk tsk tsk, no wonder Ash is such a battle maniac—even with two Pikachus, they're leveling up fast.
Over level 30 already… looks like it's time to make the third-grade Celebration Chair.
BOOM!
Five minutes later, Middle-Part landed with flair, while Staryu on the other side was blasted away by a surge of intense electricity and lost its ability to fight.
"Pika! Pika?!"
For some reason, even though it had clearly won, Middle-Part felt a chill run down its back.
"Alright, let's keep up the momentum—wait, Middle-Part, why are you coming back?"
"Pikapi."
(Translation: I'm done.)
Yawning, Middle-Part returned, gave Pikachu Prime a high-five, and took its place behind Ash—one on the left, one on the right.
"Sigh, I get it…"
Ash tugged at the brim of his cap, helpless.
Natsume's Pikachu was just too lazy. Unless Natsume gave a direct order, there was no way it would fight more than once in a row.
Moderation is key. Even Pokémon need rest.
Middle-Part was a firm believer in the art of healthy living. It pulled a small blanket out of Ash's backpack, curled up on Pikachu Prime's tail, and promptly fell asleep.
"Hmph! Without Middle-Part and Pikachu, let's see how you plan to win now!"
On the opposite side, Misty once again tossed out a Poké Ball:
"Go, Starmie!"
Cha—!
A starfish-shaped Pokémon with a gem in its center—resembling Ultraman's timer—appeared on the water's surface.
[Starmie: Water + Psychic type. The evolved form of Staryu. A Pokémon with no distinct gender.]
"The evolved form of Staryu, huh? In that case—go, Butterfree!"
Ash's voice rang out, and Natsume raised an eyebrow as he turned to look at the battle.
"Rotom."
Rotom responded and scanned the Butterfree on the field:
[Butterfree, LV 16]
Seeing its general level, Natsume rubbed his forehead.
He almost forgot—he'd planned to write a thesis on the relationship between evolution levels and a Pokémon's will to evolve.
Ah, well. Since he was traveling with Ash, there would be plenty more chances.
That guy's team evolved mid-battle all the time. There had to be a link between battle fervor and the desire to evolve.
Still, Natsume found it a bit unfortunate—this kind of paper, even done well, probably wouldn't get into more than a second-tier journal.
And ever since he published that article summarizing Rotom's Poké Ball optimization theory, he hadn't had time to write anything else.
A pity to waste, but not satisfying enough to keep.
As he thought this, Natsume turned his gaze to Brock, who was still lying on the floor.
"Brock, training and research go hand-in-hand. Interested in becoming a researcher?"
Natsume leaned over, still thinking this paper was second-tier at best.
But if Brock could publish a few such papers, he could easily get into a city-level research institute.
"Well…"
Brock glanced at Natsume, then quickly got up and shook his head solemnly:
"I want to be a Pokémon Breeder. My dad's getting old—within a few years I'll need to return and take over the gym. I probably won't have time to be a researcher."
"I see…" Natsume looked down and stared at the Ultra Ball in his hand again.
Hmm… maybe it's time to take on a student?
He had lots of ideas, most of which weren't well-developed. He lacked motivation, but giving them to a student? That could work.
BOOM!
Suddenly, the wall of the Cerulean Gym exploded, and a tank-like machine came crashing through with a thunderous roar.
"It's Team Rocket!"
Ash and Misty, who had just finished battling, tensed up instantly.
"To protect the world from devastation—"
"Jessie!"
"James!"
"That damn researcher isn't here, right, Meowth?"
"Meowth, stop ruining our intro!"
BAM! Jessie punched Meowth on the head.
"Meowth, I just—"
Before Meowth could finish, a beam of red light engulfed him.
"Return, Meowth!"
Natsume's thrown Poké Ball struck Meowth dead-on, capturing him inside.
The red-and-white ball shook violently on the ground. James and Jessie stared blankly, minds frozen.
A few seconds passed before they snapped out of it and screamed at Natsume:
"You brat! What do you think you're doing?!"
"Meowth is a proud member of Team Rocket!"
"Huh?" Natsume shrugged. "I know. But he's also a wild Pokémon, isn't he?"
"I'm outta here, Meowth's back!"
The Poké Ball shook wildly again, and Meowth burst out in a flash of light.
The moment he saw Natsume, he went rigid with terror and clung to Jessie's leg:
"Let's get out of here, fast!"
"Meowth, don't give in to him! Remember our mission!"
Jessie yanked Meowth off her leg.
"Exactly! We're here to rob every Water-type Pokémon in this place and deliver them to Boss Giovanni!"
James pulled out a rose from who knows where, eyes sparkling.
"That's right, Meowth! Activate the device!"
Meowth hit a button on the tank.
A huge pipe extended from the back of the machine and plunged into the battlefield pool, sucking water like crazy.
"This is bad! Stop them!"
Ash reached for a Poké Ball—only for Brock to grab his shoulder.
"Wait—what exactly are they doing?"
"Except for the ones being used in performances, all our Pokémon are at the Pokémon Center."
"So they're… just sucking up water?"
The Cerulean Sisters walked over.
"That machine looks like it's about to explode. Quality's terrible," Misty said, clutching her backpack and edging away.
"Actually, the machine isn't half bad," Natsume commented as he examined the tank. It reminded him of this morning's theft involving old water pipes and a pumping engine.
For Team Rocket to build something like this in under a day—that was some serious hands-on ability.
"Tch, stop giving them credit," Misty muttered, glancing at Natsume.
Natsume didn't respond—his eyes were fixed intently on Team Rocket.
Tsss—how could I forget about these three?
Based on the anime, their hands-on ability was off the charts. They were practically born to be lab assistants!
"Wh-why is he looking at us like that, Meowth?"
Meowth couldn't stop sneaking glances at Natsume, clearly traumatized.
"Something's wrong, Meowth! Shut the machine off!"
Jessie and James finally noticed something was off—the pool didn't seem to contain any Pokémon!
"It's fine, Meowth!"
In his panic, Meowth pressed the wrong button. The machine didn't stop—instead, it started sucking water even faster.
"This is bad, Meowth!"
BOOM!
With a massive explosion, the tank erupted, and Team Rocket used Fly!
"Ah! My bag got soaked!"
"Ugh! Middle-Part bit me just because I woke you up, Natsume!"
"Wait—where did Natsume go?"
Brock realized Natsume had vanished. But his attention involuntarily drifted back to the Cerulean Sisters…
Cerulean City outskirts.
Three people dressed as Mankey hung from a tree branch.
"Meowth! This is your fault for pressing the wrong button!"
"What?! James, you hooked up the wrong pipe!"
"Yeah? Then why aren't you blaming Jessie?! She didn't do anything!"
"What did you just say?! Who drew the blueprints?!"
Jessie grabbed James by the collar, spitting in his face.
In James' eyes, Jessie seemed to reflect a divine figure.
"Alright, enough squabbling. Look at me."
A voice came from behind them—Natsume's voice.
They turned to see a face bathed in holy light, smiling gently.
"My dear trio… would you like to become my research assistants?"