"Big brother Red, battle with me!"
Gary put away his Pokédex and Poké Balls, his eyes burning as he stared at Red, his voice thick with a fighting spirit he couldn't hide. To him, having a match with Red was the only proper way to start his journey.
Red blinked, then glanced at Hora. Seeing Hora nod with a smile as if to say "it's fine," Red also stowed his gear. A spark of excitement for battle flickered in his eyes. "Alright. Let's start our journey with a battle!"
"There's a specialized battle court in the backyard. I'll take you there," Professor Oak suggested with a smile.
As a core area for Pokémon research, the Pallet Town laboratory had excellent facilities. The backyard court featured standard red-and-white boundary lines and basic protective gear—more than enough for rookie trainers to spar.
Once they reached the backyard, Professor Oak stood at the edge of the field, cleared his throat, and instantly entered "Referee Mode."
"This will be a match between Red and Gary! Each side is limited to one Pokémon. The side whose Pokémon loses the ability to fight first will be the loser!" Hearing those familiar referee lines, Hora couldn't help but smile to himself—it was identical to the scenes he had watched in the anime, right down to the phrasing and tone.
"Begin the match!"
As soon as Oak's voice fell, Gary shouted, "Squirtle, use Water Gun!"
Squirtle took a combat stance and exhaled a stream of clear water, shooting directly toward Charmander.
"Charmander," Red spoke calmly, his voice steady. "Evade the Water Gun. Dash toward Squirtle and use Scratch!"
Standing on the sidelines, Hora nodded inwardly. Red's combat experience was indeed seasoned. As a Fire-type, Charmander was naturally countered by Squirtle. If it tried to use Ember to counter the Water Gun, the elemental disadvantage would weaken the move and waste Charmander's stamina. Instead of a head-on clash, Red chose to bypass the attack and close the distance, exploiting Squirtle's weakness: high defense but lower mobility.
"You want to get close? Not that easy!" Gary clearly saw through Red's intent and adjusted his command instantly. "Squirtle, switch Water Gun to Rapid Fire! Block Charmander's path!"
Squirtle immediately reined in its power. The continuous stream of water turned into a series of intermittent "water bullets," densely peppering the path ahead of Charmander.
Hora raised an eyebrow. He was surprised yet found it reasonable. After all, this was the rival who could go toe-to-toe with Ash in the early days; such a reaction was expected. He had been curious if a newly collected Squirtle could pull off "Rapid Fire"—a technique requiring high precision in controlling water output and rhythm.
Though the water bullets from the field were slightly weak in power, the Squirtle actually achieved the "Rapid Fire" effect, each bullet landing precisely where Charmander might try to lunge.
"The starters bred by the League really are something," Hora praised silently. "Their technical foundation is solid; they just need to polish their power. Given time, they'll be formidable."
Under the pressure of the water bullets, Charmander's advance slowed significantly. The flame on its tail flickered with frustration—it tried to bypass the bullets several times but was forced back by the dense barrage, unable to get within three meters of Squirtle.
Just then, Red's voice broke the deadlock. "Charmander, don't rush. Use Smokescreen to obscure the field!"
Charmander understood immediately. It took a deep breath and exhaled a thick cloud of black smoke that quickly expanded across the center of the field, swallowing both itself and Squirtle. The once clear battlefield became a hazy mess. Squirtle's Water Gun lost its target, firing aimlessly into the depths of the smoke.
Hora's eyes lit up from the sidelines! Smokescreen wouldn't just block Squirtle's vision and render the Rapid Fire useless; it would create the perfect opening for Charmander to close in.
Soon, a series of "skritch-skritch" sounds came from the smoke—the sharp sound of claws scraping against a turtle shell. It was easy to imagine Charmander relentlessly swiping its claws in the dark. Red had seized the opportunity provided by the smoke to let Charmander stick to Squirtle, attacking continuously while the opponent was blind.
"Squirtle, quick! Use Withdraw!" Even though he couldn't see, Gary made a swift judgment based on sound. He knew Squirtle's advantage was its hard shell; as long as it tucked in, it could minimize the damage.
However, amidst the sounds of claws hitting the shell, there were several muffled grunts from Squirtle. Hora could hear it clearly—not all of Charmander's attacks were hitting the shell. Perhaps Squirtle was half a second too slow, or Charmander found a gap during the transition; some hits were definitely landing on Squirtle's soft body.
"I can't just keep taking hits!" Gary quickly adjusted his strategy, shouting into the smoke. "Squirtle, use Rapid Spin! Blow the smoke away!"
A "whoosh" of wind echoed from the smoke. Immediately, a rotating blue figure charged out. Squirtle had tucked its limbs and head entirely into its shell, spinning at high speed like a blue top. The resulting airflow began to swirl the smoke away.
Before long, the haze dissipated, and the situation became clear: Squirtle was still spinning in place, with faint claw marks visible on its shell. Charmander stood not far away, its claws glowing with a faint white light, still in a combat stance—though it had a few scuff marks on its chest, likely from failing to dodge Squirtle's rotation entirely.
"Now! Charmander, use Ember!" Red seized the moment the smoke cleared.
Charmander exhaled a string of sparks toward the spinning Squirtle. But as soon as the sparks hit the hard, rotating shell, they were deflected away. They didn't even leave a scorch mark.
"Charmander, don't stop! Keep using Ember!" Seeing the attack fail, Red didn't change his command. Instead, he urged Charmander to keep firing.
Hora frowned, feeling confused. Red had to know that Ember couldn't pierce Squirtle's shell while it was spinning—why waste the effort?
But as he watched the sparks being deflected again and again, Hora's eyes suddenly brightened as he looked at the ground. The mystery was solved: the deflected sparks hadn't gone out. Instead, they landed on the patches of dry grass at the edge of the field.
The weather in Pallet Town had been dry lately. The semi-withered grass ignited the moment the sparks touched it. Within seconds, the fire spread along the weeds, gradually forming a small ring of fire around Squirtle!