The training hall was finally quiet—until the simulation system powered down. At once, the three so-called "brilliant" students snapped out of their virtual haze, eyes clearing as if they'd just emerged from a deep trance.
Like they'd rehearsed this scene a hundred times, they shouted in perfect unison:
"Use combination skills!"
"…Huh? What are you—"
Before I could finish, Riolu came sprinting toward me, riding on the back of a Growlithe like some bizarre circus act. Yes, a dog riding a dog. I blinked to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.
I barely had time to process before I felt my shoulders sink under a sudden, crushing weight. The culprit was Iron Dumbbell, who had circled behind me in eerie silence and now threw his entire mass on my back at full speed.
A sharp shua of movement—Riolu leapt off Growlithe mid-charge, his body a blur as he triggered Quick Attack. The very next heartbeat, his fist, clad in steel spikes, sank into my stomach.
Pain exploded through me, twisting my insides until my barely-digested breakfast threatened a violent escape. For a brief moment, I swear I saw my late grandmother smiling kindly, waving me toward the light. Then the world spun, and I flew backwards in a perfect parabola.
"We finally got the real body this time!" the trio cheered, already celebrating like they'd just defeated the final boss.
It was only then that I realized I had played myself. The simulation ending so abruptly hadn't given these three the chance to register reality. They were still in "beat the boss" mode—except now, I was the boss.
As the adrenaline wore off, the three finally looked around and realized something was wrong. The virtual Lin Shou they'd fought before had never been this fragile.
"Boss! Boss, are you okay?" They rushed over, their Pokémon trailing behind, all wearing identical expressions of half-guilt, half-curiosity.
I glanced at my health bar—if I had one in real life, it would've been cut clean in half. "No," I thought grimly, "I am not okay."
"Quick! Emergency center!" one of them barked, and before I could protest, I was hoisted onto their shoulders.
The smallest of the three darted ahead, shouting for people to make way, while the other two bolted like a pair of wild Rapidash, jostling me so violently I could practically feel my spine filing for divorce.
Every time I tried to speak, a gust of icy winter air blasted down my throat, stabbing the already tender spot where Riolu's fist had landed.
Honestly, if it weren't for the system's enhancements to my body, I'd probably be bedridden for a hundred days from a hit like that.
"Boss, you know Roost, right? Just use it to heal!" Axuan chirped helpfully.
Oh sure, why not ask me to use Recover while you're at it?
Perhaps because my expression was just a bit too telling, I simply shut my eyes in dramatic silence.
"Boss! Don't die on us!"
Passersby stared openly now, a few even filming on their phones, clearly convinced they'd stumbled onto a bizarre internet skit.
By the time I opened my eyes again, the emergency center's doctors had already scolded the three within an inch of their lives. Their parents were there too, arms crossed, voices sharp.
The girl, Xia Chenxi, got the worst of it—her mother, still in a Union Police uniform, had one hand planted firmly on her hip and the other pointing at her daughter's nose.
"Xia Chenxi, I was still at work when you called to say you'd killed someone! Do you have any idea what that did to me? I was already preparing myself to arrest my own child for the sake of justice!"
Xia Chenxi kept her head down, though the corners of her mouth twitched like she was suppressing laughter.
The other two troublemakers weren't spared either. Axuan, in particular, looked almost happy—he'd once told me his father barely had time to notice him. Now here he was, getting fussed over like a prized Pokémon egg.
I couldn't help the creeping suspicion: had these three planned this?
"Forget it," I muttered to myself. "Once, a monk cut his own flesh to feed an eagle. Today, if my suffering brings joy to three households, so be it."
I glanced at the payment slip on my bedside table. The golden glint of Alliance Coins from their parents was almost enough to make me smile.
"Maybe I should let them hit me again," I thought. "This pays better than running the gym."
The trio returned, grinning like Meowth who'd found a cream stash.
"Boss, you seem in a good mood," one teased.
"Get lost," I waved them off. "The sight of you irritates me."
But they were clingy as gum on a shoe, insisting it was my fault for making the training so realistic, especially for designing my own likeness as a humanoid Pokémon opponent.
"Oh sure," I snorted. "By your logic, the power company that keeps my gym running is also to blame."
We bantered until one of them mentioned my phone had been ringing nonstop while I was out.
A jolt of panic—Latina! Had she been worried? I unlocked my screen, bracing for a flood of her messages.
Instead, I found over a hundred notifications from the game I'd just been playing. My defeated opponent had somehow revived and gone on an unhinged messaging spree.
[Starlight Sparkle][21:03:15]: Rookie, you there?[Starlight Sparkle][21:03:19]: Are you scared?[Starlight Sparkle][21:05:44]: Pathetic little fish~~
My eyelid twitched. Was this person unwell? I closed the game entirely. No Latina messages—disappointing.
After some hesitation, I replied to my persistent tormentor: "Tuition is 100,000 per setup. Guaranteed to teach you until you learn."
Ten minutes later, the reply came: "Are you insulting me? I don't need your charity!"
I stared. "…I asked for a hundred thousand and you think that's charity? Wait…" My grin spread slowly.
"Looks like I've just met another rich woman."