My Name Is Wang Zihao

Liu Yan was not only unangered by Wang Zihao's behavior; she even felt a measure of admiration for him.

Trainers proved themselves through battles.

Even though Wang Zihao's emotions had gotten the better of him and his tone was unpleasant, Liu Yan's gaze held not the slightest trace of anger.

"You have a point. We're selecting the five strongest people, so naturally everyone has to be convinced!"

After thinking for a moment, Liu Yan said, "Ye Lan will have a match the day after tomorrow, and I'll take the whole class to watch. If you're still unconvinced afterward, you can challenge him yourselves! I'm sure he won't refuse."

For Liu Yan, asking an old classmate for a few front-row tickets to a battle arena was no problem.

As you can see, my name is Wang Zihao, an ordinary student in the elite class of Mianzhou No. 1 High School.

When I was young, I was luckier than most. Both my parents had once been Trainers, so I was able to come into contact with Pokémon early on, and my family had always been fairly well-off.

Until one day, when my father came home reeking of alcohol. He was extremely unstable and smashed up the house in a complete mess. Only after my mother talked him down for quite some time did he stop.

At the time, my father and mother were only college sweethearts. I only learned about this later from my mother.

From that day onward, my father never called himself a Trainer again. He started working, striving to support the family as an ordinary office worker.

My mother was quite satisfied with that change in him. Before, my father had always said, "I'm definitely going to become Mianzhou's first Gym Leader," and often ran into the wilderness to train. He was even frequently late for dates.

Though my mother often complained, she had supported my father's dream.

Later, when my father began caring for the family and became more mature, my mother was delighted as well.

Back then, I asked my mother what was wrong with Dad. She would always say, "Your father has grown up. He's matured."

I was too young to understand, and all I felt was fear toward growing up. Did growing up mean having your dreams taken away? If I could, I would rather never grow up for the rest of my life.

But that day still came—the year I turned sixteen and was about to receive my Pokémon.

Though my father was no longer a Trainer himself, he seemed to still have expectations for me.

Not only did he allow me to attend a Trainer school, but he had also carefully selected my starter Pokémon.

One day after work, my father brought home a purple little Pokémon with large ears and a horn.

At first glance, I fell in love with the little guy.

It was actually a Nidoran♂, a Poison-type Pokémon whose talent was no worse than that of the starter Pokémon!

I still remembered how overjoyed I had been, but my father's words filled me with unease.

"Sigh, this is already the limit of what Dad can do. From now on, you'll have to rely on yourself."

I still remembered the expression on my father's face. It was the heartfelt self-reproach of someone who was not simply smiling and offering words of encouragement.

I hurriedly explained that I truly liked it, but my father asked me whether I would still like Pokémon if I lacked talent as a Trainer and did not have powerful Pokémon.

For someone who had just received his first Pokémon, the question was too profound. I could not answer it right away.

Didn't Trainers all long for victory?

Only then did my father tell me the real reason he had given up being a Trainer all those years ago.

It turned out that on his way back from the forest that day, my father had encountered a young Trainer who looked as though he had received his Pokémon about a year earlier.

The other person claimed to be traveling and preparing for the League Conference, and hoped to have a one-on-one battle.

My father gladly accepted. After all, when Trainers' eyes met, a battle was inevitable.

But considering that the other party had been a Trainer for less than a year, while he himself was already in his third year of college and had reached the middle stage of the Advanced rank, he decided to go a little easy on him.

Until the other party sent out a blue serpentine Pokémon that looked frail and helpless, yet easily defeated him within ten turns.

My father told me that he had gone all out from the moment his opponent used the first move. Even so, he was utterly powerless beneath the opponent's relentless attacks.

Under his opponent's weather move, beneath his opponent's rain, my father's Scizor was helpless despite being a whole major rank stronger.

My father's university had been ordinary to begin with. It was only after he looked up the information later that he learned there was a class of Pokémon born powerful, known as "pseudo-legendaries."

And the one he had encountered that day was Dragonair, the second-stage evolution of the Kanto Region's pseudo-legendary Pokémon, Dragonite.

To use weather-based moves so effortlessly required enormous resources.

My father was lost. As an ordinary person, how could he possibly defeat Pokémon that were naturally powerful and backed by immense resources and training?

After hearing my father's words, I did not know how to face the Trainer's journey I had just begun.

Did I truly have talent as a Trainer?

Carrying that doubt, I came to school. Relying on Nidoran♂'s strength, I easily defeated many of my classmates.

I was not happy because of it, because it seemed to further prove my father's words.

I could win because Nidoran♂ was naturally stronger than their Pokémon.

Then I heard that two students had passed the principal's supposedly extremely difficult knowledge assessment as soon as they entered their senior year.

I was dismissive, because Trainers ultimately had to be judged by their battling strength.

But when I truly encountered that lazy young man with black hair and black eyes in the first week's battle assessment, I experienced for the first time the feeling my father had described.

Two Pokémon whose strength was clearly equal, yet mine was effortlessly one-shot by that little green snake with a single Iron Tail.

After the weekly assessment ended, I was still unwilling to accept it. I went to the training grounds to find the young man named Ye Lan and asked him what he would do if he encountered a pseudo-legendary Pokémon.

Ye Lan first wiped the sweat from his forehead, his face lighting up with excitement. "A pseudo-legendary?! Where is it? What else would you do? Throw a Poké Ball, of course!"

After saying that, his expression suddenly stiffened, as though he had remembered something. He added, "I almost forgot Grass-types don't have any pseudo-legendaries... After catching it, I'd probably trade it for resources."

My face went dark as I told him I was not talking about a wild pseudo-legendary Pokémon, but battling a child from a powerful family who had one.

He thought for a moment, the excitement on his face undiminished. "Of course, you battle seriously once. Win or lose, it's great battle experience!"

Lin Yan, who often trained with Ye Lan, heard our conversation. Though he said nothing, his eyes were also full of anticipation at the thought of battling a pseudo-legendary Pokémon.

Seeing the expressions on their faces, I believed that even if they lost to a pseudo-legendary, they would still wholeheartedly love Pokémon battles and turn their shortcomings from that battle into strength.

So there really were people who purely loved Pokémon and battling like that!

From that day on, I let it go and began training my Pokémon seriously.

Unfortunately, I really did not have much talent as a Trainer. I still failed to make it into the top four of the school team.

I truly believed that someone like Ye Lan had definitely grown even stronger by now. I only needed a reason to battle him again, so he could see how I had changed.

I understood deeply that once some people missed an opportunity, in an incredibly short time, they would grow to the point where others no longer even had the courage to face them.

And Ye Lan was exactly that kind of person.