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The sunlight still slanted through the tree canopy. Ash, with a bulging travel backpack on his shoulders, was hunched over, his other hand struggling to carry Professor Oak's briefcase, which felt heavy enough to contain half a ton of research materials.
From the corner store, where an inviting sweet aroma wafted, to the Striaton Gym, the journey seemed much longer than expected.
"Professor, thank you for your trouble, accompanying me all the way to the Gym," Ash panted, taking a moment to catch his breath, truly feeling the strain.
Professor Oak narrowed his eyes contentedly, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, his steps a bit lighter, a look of undisguised satisfaction on his face.
"Ah, it's good to have a disciple," his voice carried an air of self-evident comfort.
"Such a small matter as carrying a bag, I don't have to worry about it at all."
He even exaggeratedly stretched his free shoulder.
Iris, standing beside him, stared wide-eyed, her gaze fixed on Ash, filled with an indescribable envy.
That was Professor Oak, a titan in the field of Pokémon research, if not the world's number one, then certainly among the select few at the very pinnacle. To be accepted as his disciple—just that qualification alone would be enough to stun a multitude of Trainers. As for the resources, knowledge, and connections that came with it, the benefits were simply countless.
She couldn't help but secretly pinch the strap of her backpack, inwardly exclaiming, "I'm so envious!"
"Wait a moment, Ash," Professor Oak's leisurely pace suddenly halted. He looked at the street before him, with its familiar-looking shop signs, and a very bad feeling crawled up his spine.
"Do you—know the way?"
Ash looked up blankly, glancing left and right, his eyes filled with pure innocence, confusion, and even a hint of embarrassment.
"Uh, isn't it just straight ahead? I think there's a fountain at the intersection up there—"
Professor Oak slapped his forehead, a crisp sound echoing.
A miscalculation, a huge miscalculation! He was too careless. How could he have completely forgotten about this kid's notorious sense of direction?
He unhesitatingly raised his hand, curled his fingers, and delivered a forceful 'flick' to Ash's forehead: "Ash, we've passed that fountain twice already."
Ash covered his forehead, smiling sheepishly.
Professor Oak sighed resignedly and pulled out his Pokémon Navigator from his pocket.
The screen lit up, displaying a clear virtual electronic map. After inputting 'Gym,' a prominent blue arrow steadily pointed to the location marked Striaton Gym.
"Follow me!" the Professor's tone was decisive and unquestionable as he strode forward.
When the imposing Western-style building finally appeared at the end of their sight, even Iris secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
She didn't want to walk anymore either.
The Gym stood majestically, its huge archway supported by several thick white stone columns, exuding a solemn and serene atmosphere. Rather than a place of battle, it resembled an ancient grand auditorium.
Ash rushed ahead, the fatigue of the journey and the eagerness for battle instantly dispelling the frustration of getting lost.
He bounded up the steps and forcefully pushed open the two heavy oak doors, adorned with vine patterns. With Ash's characteristic, headstrong enthusiasm, he shouted into the empty interior: "Excuse me! I'm Ash from Pallet Town, here for a Gym challenge!"
The door hinges groaned heavily, swinging inward.
However, the expected empty Gym did not appear.
What greeted them was a soft, soothing piano melody, the dazzling light refracted by crystal chandeliers, and the enticing aroma of premium barbecue sauce mixed with rich coffee.
More importantly, countless gazes—startled, curious, and with a hint of displeasure at being disturbed—focused on him.
The place was brightly lit, with long tables covered in white tablecloths neatly arranged. Elegantly dressed gentlemen and ladies gracefully held their knives and forks, their plates holding exquisite food.
Ash's words, like a stone dropped into a calm lake, instantly froze all the clinking of cutlery and murmured conversations, shattering the entire atmosphere.
"Hi, welcome!" "Welcome!"
Two enthusiastic voices rang out almost simultaneously, breaking the abrupt silence.
Two young men, dressed in crisp waiter uniforms and remarkably similar in appearance, quickly approached. The only difference was their hair: one a fiery, flamboyant red, the other a calm, deep-sea blue.
The red-haired youth's smile was highly infectious, while the blue-haired youth appeared more reserved and gentle.
"I..." Ash opened his mouth, but before he could explain, he was enthusiastically guided by the red-haired youth (Burt) and the blue-haired youth (Cress), one on each side, and seated in an empty chair near the door.
Iris was also a bit bewildered by the situation and was haphazardly seated next to Ash.
Only Professor Oak, a world-class scholar accustomed to great storms, maintained his characteristic scholarly composure.
He slowly strolled in, surveying the well-disguised Gym restaurant with interest, before calmly taking his seat at the reserved head of the table, even adjusting the collar of his lab coat.
"So, esteemed guests," Burt bowed slightly, his smile as bright as the midday sun, "What would you like to order?" His speech had a rhythmic quality that was hard to interrupt.
"First, we recommend our restaurant's special welcome drinks to our two young friends!" Cress's voice was clear and steady, like a mountain stream, seamlessly picking up the conversation.
Burt immediately followed, "If you prefer a cold drink, I highly recommend 'Frozen Breath' – it's refreshing and perfectly complements the main course!" He gave a thumbs-up.
"Or, consider our special lunch today, an excellent value and absolutely delicious!" Cress spoke again, his gaze sincere.
The two spoke back and forth, their words rapid and perfectly synchronized, blocking Ash's several attempts to interject with their smooth lines.
Just then, another figure joined the sales pitch. He had vibrant, short green hair and a gentle, professional smile, holding a thick menu book.
"Three of you," the green-haired youth (Cilan)'s voice carried a convincing steadiness. He bowed slightly, "Allow me to specially recommend this season's chef's masterpiece—the 'Unova Trio.' Featuring select local farm... wait a moment, are you Professor Oak?"
"That's right, and he's here for a Gym challenge."
Professor Oak's voice wasn't loud, but it was like an invisible sharp blade, instantly cutting through all the enthusiastic sales pitches.
This calm sentence had the effect of pouring a ladle of cold water into boiling oil.
The entire restaurant fell into a deathly silence.
The five words "Gym challenge" seemed to carry some forbidden magic.
Knives and forks hung suspended in mid-air, and no one noticed napkins slipping from laps.
The expressions on all the diners' faces froze, from surprise to bewilderment, then to an indescribable shock, finally dissolving into an unbelievable silence. Time seemed to be frozen for a few seconds.
Then, whispers rose like a tide from every corner, converging into a buzzing hum.
Their eyes instantly lit up, sparkling with immense excitement, as if they had seen some rare treasure.
A challenger! A Gym challenger! They could watch a Gym challenge again!
The green-haired youth, Cilan, his professional smile quickly receded like a tide.
A very sharp glint flashed in the depths of his eyes, like a sleeping swordsman awakened.
He straightened up abruptly, his movements fluid and powerful, and snapped his right fingers with a crisp sound.
"Your wish," Cilan's voice suddenly rose, filled with a dramatic sense of declaration. At the same time, he executed a flamboyant, almost exaggerated spin, the hem of his waiter's uniform cutting a sharp arc, "we will help you fulfill it."
As the snap of his fingers faded, a dull grinding of gears and the sound of hydraulic mechanisms activating came from deeper within the restaurant.
The wall, originally adorned with large landscape oil paintings and exquisite fireplaces, now had a perfectly straight crack appearing right in its center.
The thick walls, like stage curtains, slid open slowly and silently to both sides, revealing a completely different scene—a huge, empty, modern battle arena with a standard combat floor, surrounded by transparent energy shields!
The lights automatically focused, illuminating the center of the arena as bright as day.
"Since he is a challenger, we must treat him with the most ardent enthusiasm! Like a scorching flame that burns everything."
The red-haired Chili stepped forward excitedly, clenching his right fist and pounding his chest, while winking forcefully with his left eye towards Ash—a standard, electrifying wink.
"No,"
The blue-haired Cress immediately shook his head, refuting calmly,
"Facing a challenge requires more composure and rationality, like still water in a deep pool." His gaze was like a frozen lake, unruffled.
Ash watched, a vein throbbing in his forehead, his temples aching.
These exaggerated lines, these flamboyant gestures... did the three of them secretly take acting lessons from the Team Rockets trio?
At this point, if Ash still couldn't tell that these three young men with different hair colors and distinct personalities were the Gym Leaders, then he really should go back to Pallet Town to re-study.
"We, the triplet brothers," Cilan stood at the entrance of the open battle arena, the lights outlining his clear silhouette, announcing loudly, "are the Gym Leaders of Striaton Gym!"
"Show time!" The three of them exclaimed in unison, their voices echoing in the now vast, empty space.
Cilan, as the leader, formally introduced the three to Ash: "I am Cilan."
"The fiery Chili is here!" The red-haired young man, Chili, pounded his chest again, his red hair seemingly even more dazzling.
"The calm Cress." Cress simply stated his name, his tone steady.
Cilan's gaze returned to Ash, scrutinizing him: "So, challenger Ash, according to the rules, you can choose any one of us three as your opponent. Please make your choice." His gaze swept over the Poké Ball belt at Ash's waist.
Almost simultaneously, three lights lit up at the side of the arena. A monkey Pokémon with a blazing flame at the tip of its tail and an untamed gaze—Pansear—leapt onto Chili's shoulder, baring its teeth at Ash; a monkey Pokémon with a large broccoli-like leaf crown on its head and a gentle expression—Pansage—squatted quietly at Cilan's feet; finally, a monkey Pokémon covered in short aqua-blue fur and with a serene gaze—Panpour—appeared beside Cress, seemingly enveloped by a faint mist of water vapor.
Ash's gaze swept over the three monkey Pokémon in turn, then slowly lifted, falling on the distinctive red, green, and blue hair of the three opposite him.
An extremely clear correspondence was instantly established in his mind.
He was silent for a full five or six seconds. The remaining diners in the restaurant, including Iris, held their breath, watching him, unsure what this silence meant.
Then, Ash, in a tone of sudden realization, serious to the point of almost innocent, clearly and unmistakably uttered his observation:
"So, you choose your Pokémon based on your hair color, huh?"
"Pfft!"
In the best viewing seat, Professor Oak, who had been respectfully invited by the three brothers, was holding the black tea a waiter had just served.
Hearing Ash's inspired remark, he suddenly choked, almost spitting out a mouthful of tea.
He quickly put down the teacup, clamped his mouth shut, his shoulders shaking violently, his old face flushed red, and his other hand frantically slapping his thigh, laughing so hard he almost slid off the chair.
That brat! This damnable, naturally sharp tongue!
In the center of the arena, the expressions of the three Gym Leader brothers instantly became a spectacle.
The perfectly composed expression on Cilan's face showed its first crack, the corner of his mouth twitching uncontrollably.
Chili's signature brilliant smile froze on his face, as if someone had pressed a pause button.
Even the calmest Cress's eye twitched noticeably several times, a rare trace of choked helplessness flashing through his ice-blue pupils.
For a moment, the three, who had been so imposing just now, were rendered speechless by Ash's simple yet devastatingly honest remark, and the scene became extremely awkward.
It was Cilan who recovered first. He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the absurdity, and sternly recomposed himself, regaining the solemnity of a Gym Leader: "Ahem! Challenger Ash, please formally state your choice! Which one of us do you wish to challenge?"
He deliberately emphasized his tone, trying to steer the derailed conversation back on track.
Ash's gaze instantly sharpened like a knife; all the teasing and lightness vanished, leaving only pure fighting spirit.
He straightened his back, his voice resolute, echoing clearly in the now silent arena: "What I'm challenging is the advanced Gym battle."
"Advanced battle."
These three words were like a bomb dropped into deep water, stirring up a furious storm in the hearts of Cilan, Chili, and Cress!
The pupils of all three simultaneously constricted.
Advanced battle!
The cameras on the edge of the arena, which had been on standby, buzzed to life instantly with a subtle gesture from Cilan, their myriad red indicator lights illuminating, their cold lenses like countless eyes, Lock-On Ash from every angle.
This was the Alliance's highest-grade mandatory regulation.
Once a Trainer proposes and successfully completes an advanced challenge, their name and battle data will go directly to the Alliance's core database, becoming a key observation target.
This was a stepping stone to a higher hall, and also an incredibly heavy trial.
"Watch, Iris," Professor Oak stopped laughing, but a gleam of pleasure still lingered deep in his eyes. He picked up his teacup, his tone carrying a hint of imperceptible pride, "Perhaps, today you'll see this kid's true colors."
Cilan gazed at Ash, the unwavering flame in the boy's eyes making him realize this was no joke.
His voice deepened, carrying an unprecedented gravity: "Ash, I must reconfirm your intention and inform you of the rules.
In an advanced challenge battle, you will face the true guardian power of our Gym—Elite Four-level Pokémon bred and left behind by the previous Gym Leader.
They... battle autonomously, by the Pokémon themselves."
His tone on the last sentence was complex, implying a hint of helplessness and reverence. The old Gym Leader had passed away, and they, the younger generation, were not yet capable of wielding those partners imbued with terrifying power.
Ash didn't hesitate at all; he nodded forcefully: "I understand!"
"Very well!" Cilan waved his hand abruptly.
At the edge of the arena, a Poké Ball transmission device with flashing indicator lights slowly rose. "Please use this transmission device to retrieve your stored Pokémon! The Striaton Gym's advanced battle rules allow the use of any Pokémon registered under your name."
Ash strode forward, his fingers quickly operating the control panel. The familiar red-and-white orb, glowing with transmission light, landed in his hand.
He gripped the Poké Ball tightly, turned, swept his gaze over the three brothers at the side of the arena, and finally settled on the center of the arena, his voice not loud, but resolute, clearly reaching every corner:
"I choose to challenge all of them! Come on!"
"Boom!"
The entire viewing area erupted! Gasps, sharp intakes of breath, and waves of incredulous discussion instantly broke the last vestiges of order.
"Round 1!" The referee's voice boomed through the loudspeaker, cutting through the din,
"Challenger Ash, battles Striaton Gym's guardian Pokémon, the Elite Four-level Simisear! Battle start!"
Chili's expression was solemn as never before, even carrying a hint of tragedy.
He carefully took out a heavy Poké Ball, entirely crimson and inscribed with patterns on its surface—this was certainly not a mass-produced item.
He used all his strength to throw it high into the center of the arena,
"Go! Simisear! Show the glory and power of the previous Gym Leader!"
Red light burst forth! Like a volcanic eruption!