Looking Toward the Future

Baimu lay sprawled across his bed after returning from the group dinner, staring blankly at the mottled ceiling.

The overstuffed Aron leaned against his left calf, curling up obediently with its eyes closed for a short rest.

"There's quite a lot to do..."

He glanced at the simulator's countdown. There were still a little over two days left.

Of the rewards he had obtained so far, the clue had presumably already paid off. That left two "gain one level below level thirty" rewards, along with the move [String Shot].

He had yet to use the level-up reward. He had tested the moves on Aron: [String Shot] indicated that it had failed to learn it, while [Endeavor] brought up a [Yes/No] prompt, and he decisively chose yes.

That undoubtedly proved that Pokémon could only learn moves within their own move pools.

What a pity.

It would have been amusing if he got to see an Aron that could use String Shot.

As for its condition, Baimu had already learned about it at the Pokémon Center.

[Pokémon: Aron]

[Type: Steel + Rock]

[Gender: Male]

[Height: 47 cm / Weight: 50 kg]

[Ability: Rock Head]

[Level: 28]

[Moves: Tackle / Harden / Mud-Slap / Metal Claw]

[Iron Defense / Take Down / Iron Head / Dig / Endeavor]

Just like raising cats and dogs in his previous life, Pokémon could be raised with care or simply left to rough it. Proper training methods helped improve their willpower, confidence, and combat strength.

The doctor had also said that it was still young. Its moves, level, reflexes, and other aspects showed that someone had once trained it attentively.

As for why it had been abandoned... unless Aron chose to tell him itself, Baimu would not pry. It was hardly a pleasant subject.

"Come up and sleep."

He got up, carried Aron onto the bed, and used the level reward.

Once it exceeded level thirty, he would no longer be able to use it. Right now was the perfect time to maximize its efficiency.

"Guh?"

Aron froze for a moment, then shifted its body strangely. For some reason, many parts of it felt hot and itchy, and it desperately wanted to kick its legs a few times or roll around.

It felt a little like after a battle.

Baimu asked softly, "Does anything hurt?"

"Guh!"

Aron shook its head, thinking that perhaps it was only because it had rarely eaten its fill. It could not help wanting to get into a fight or something.

But seeing the tired look on Baimu's face, it abandoned the idea of exercising and obediently lay down to welcome the next day.

It had thought that, after being away from humans for so long, it would have trouble adjusting. Yet these past few days had been happier than it expected. That made Aron realize just how easily satisfied it was, and it began looking toward the future.

Tomorrow should be when they fought, right? It had not seriously moved around in so long. It wondered whether it could satisfy Baimu...

As it pondered, Aron gradually fell asleep.

Baimu gently stroked its head. Listening to its faint breathing, he slowly relaxed, and drowsiness began to rise within him.

After reporting to the Sand Group tomorrow, he should find a literacy class somehow. He needed to solve the problem of being half-illiterate as soon as possible, then figure out how to get online and communicate with the outside world. It might give him another path in the future.

He was definitely going to leave the Quicksand Team.

That was one of the small goals he had set for himself. Once he had grown stronger and gained a certain amount of power, he would put it into action.

Too many bloodsucking leeches clung to the Quicksand Team's ship. Forget the upper ranks—even Squad Leaders and ordinary members commonly exploited the people below them. Protection fees, tribute fees, holiday gifts.

They even dared to skim three tons off every five tons of iron ore meant for shipment.

The members were arrogant and constantly provoked other violent groups, making enemies everywhere until they barely had any allies left.

It was hard to understand what kind of development plan the upper ranks had.

Once some time had passed and he became familiar with the process of raising Pokémon, he could start preparing to welcome a second and third Pokémon.

But the most important thing was finding a way to make money. Without money, there was nothing, and nothing could move forward...

Baimu slowly closed his eyes.

The next morning.

Baimu and the others changed into Quicksand Team uniforms and headed for the Sand Group's base.

The style was unexpectedly normal, somewhat like desert camouflage combat uniforms from his previous life. They looked better than the uniforms worn by most evil organizations in the official works.

"By the way, why do you always keep it out with you?"

Cheng Hong looked curiously at the Aron by Baimu's feet. "Isn't that a hassle?"

"The adjustment between partners matters more."

Baimu turned to meet Aron's gaze. Mutual understanding was built through companionship, naturally accumulating through every little part of daily life.

Switching Pokémon was a common habit among trainers in Pyrite Town, but he did not have that habit. The simulator's existence also gave him the confidence to do things this way.

Hearing that, Cheng Hong thought for two seconds before releasing his own coal-ball-like Roggenrola. The others followed suit, and the group suddenly grew much larger with all the Pokémon around them, occasionally drawing the attention of passersby.

As they neared the Sand Group's base, the number of watching eyes abruptly increased. Most belonged to official members wearing the same uniforms.

"Look, the one leading them..."

"So that's him? What incredible luck!"

"Is saving someone really that impressive? I could do that too..."

"Who knows what kind of luck he stumbled into. He sure looks proud, tsk tsk."

Whispers surrounded Baimu, accompanied by all sorts of strange looks.

Cheng Hong frowned in displeasure and was about to take the equally irritated others to settle things with those people, but Baimu reached out and stopped him.

"Ignore them. Reporting in comes first. These people aren't like that idiot Shibata."

He spoke quietly. There were clearly people among the bystanders trying to stir up emotions. They might be connected to Shibata's group, whose family members had gotten into trouble and failed the assessment, so they had come to make snide remarks.

Starting a conflict rashly would only play into their hands and delay their report to the Sand Group.

Cheng Hong and the others obediently nodded. They had always regarded Baimu as the backbone of their group and would not act on their own.

Thus,

under the onlookers' gazes, the group entered the Sand Group's base with their Pokémon—a huge, rusty orange-red building shaped like an egg.

At first glance, the base looked like an abandoned stadium. Inside, it was just as Baimu had imagined: iron barrels, chains, tires, and other objects could be seen everywhere; the floor was blackened, while the walls were mottled and covered in strange graffiti.

The key thing was the motorcycles.

Single-wheeled hovering motorcycles, two-wheeled motorcycles, fully hovering motorcycles—they had everything here. Most were wildly over-the-top biker-gang style, with one parked here and another there, while some had been dismantled into parts. It looked like a biker gang's headquarters.

Cheng Hong and the others let out awed cries, while Baimu met the gaze of the nearest person.

"You're... Oh! It's you! You got here pretty early!"

The man looked around thirty-five, wearing a black tank top with a thick beard and hands covered in motor oil. He turned and shouted inside, "The newcomers are here! Come out and welcome them!"

His voice was exceptionally booming. Most likely, the entire base could hear him.

Then,

a man with messy wine-red hair, glasses, and narrow eyes like Abra's came out.

He looked them over first, then pointed at Cheng Hong and the others. "You lot, follow this path to the end. There's a small room there. Tell them you're here to register."

Only after separating Baimu from the others did he say, "As for you, you're Baimu, right? Come with me. The boss wants to see you."

"The... boss?"

Baimu was stunned.

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