This first question, Silas thought, had only one blank that could even be considered slightly tricky — worth maybe 0.1 points out of 100. That was the very last one.
Normally, according to standard breeding mechanics, whenever a Pokémon from any Egg Group besides "Undiscovered" breeds with a Ditto, the offspring will always be the lowest-stage form of the non-Ditto parent's evolutionary line.
But, as always, there are exceptions.
In Kanto, the case is Nidoran♂ and Nidoran♀, while in Hoenn, it's Volbeat and Illumise.
To put it simply: when a male Nidoran or Volbeat breeds with Ditto, the offspring can be either gendered line — Nidoran♂ or Nidoran♀, Volbeat or Illumise — instead of following the usual evolutionary chain rules.
It doesn't follow the standard breeding logic.
Still, having such an easy first question made sense. They couldn't have candidates walk away with zero points right from the start. It was meant to boost confidence.
The exam consisted of four main types of questions: fill-in-the-blanks, single-choice, multiple-choice, and essay-style responses. Together, they provided a thorough filter to weed out breeders who didn't meet the standard.
As for extremely basic things like identifying which parts of Pidgeot's body were which colors, or the biological nature of Exeggcute how many eggs it was made of, what each expression meant, those belonged to lower-level exams.
Question 2:
"Bulbasaur is one of the starter Pokémon of the Kanto region. On its back is the seed of a ______, and their relationship is ______.
In order to evolve Bulbasaur into Ivysaur, the most common training methods involve _____________ and _____________.
The fully evolved Venusaur's ______ crown pistil has _____ spikes. The pleasant fragrance its flower releases can calm Pokémon during battle. This aroma reaches its peak after ____________, and its main function is ______.
Which Pokémon has the exact same average height and weight as Venusaur?"
Silas couldn't help but chuckle inwardly. Such a Kanto-flavored question. If this exam were held in another region, the starter example would probably be swapped for theirs.
Of course, the question wasn't difficult.
Bulbasaur's back contains a bulb, in a symbiotic relationship.
To evolve it into Ivysaur, the key training methods were photosynthesis until the bulb glowed faintly blue at its tip, and targeted strengthening of the hind legs.
This made sense: the major difference between Bulbasaur and Ivysaur was that the bulb had grown into a bud. Photosynthesis was indispensable.
But at the same time, the bud drew nutrients from Ivysaur's body. Without strengthening its legs, Ivysaur would be weighed down by the bud, making movement difficult. That couldn't be ignored.
As for Venusaur, the answer was:
Its yellow crown pistil had eleven spikes, representing full development.
Its fragrance was strongest the day after rainfall, and its function was to attract other Pokémon.
Though research suggested that Venusaur could survive purely by photosynthesis, the purpose of this attraction effect remained unclear.
The final blank? Tropius, the Grass/Flying-type from Hoenn. Silas privately thought of Lance when filling that one in. Tropius was rare among Grass-types — not only could it fly, but it also produced fruit.
Banana-like fruit, sweet and delicious. It stood at 2 meters tall and weighed 100 kilograms. A perfect support Pokémon — and, of course, it was called a "dragon."
Silas quickly scribbled down the answers. He never worried about written tests. With his photographic memory, he was essentially a walking Pokédex and encyclopedia rolled into one.
Question 3 concerned Mr. Mime. Its fingers could be either four or five, a difference attributed to regional variation. In both Kanto and Johto, Mr. Mime typically had four fingers, while in other regions it had five.
As for its cry, it was identical to Tangela's — so much so that many people in the wild often confused the two.
Question 4, Question 5, Question 6…
Silas sped through them all with incredible speed, completing both the fill-ins and the choices.
Some of the later questions contained real traps. For example, whether the wing scales of Butterfree and Venomoth had the same toxic effects.
At first glance, the question seemed straightforward. Both were butterfly/moth-like Pokémon with wings coated in poisonous scales.
But the truth was different:
Butterfree's scales caused nausea if inhaled, and sometimes poisoning, drowsiness, or paralysis.
Venomoth's wing powder, on the other hand, varied by density: darker powder inflicted poisoning, lighter powder caused paralysis, with the side effect of preventing victims from standing.
So the two differed in both toxicity and effect.
Silas couldn't help shaking his head at the exam writers' logic. In actual trainer battles, status conditions like poison and paralysis were completely distinct. Yet the exam writers lumped paralysis and sleep under "poison." Maybe they'd been influenced by Fuchsia's ninjas a little too much.
He flexed his wrist. While the written portions weren't too wordy, flipping through the pages was tiring. The exam tablets only allowed scrolling one bit at a time — hardly efficient.
And the questions themselves were long-winded.
Finally, he reached the last two essay questions:
1. Based on the most recently discovered evolution of Eevee, explain the logical basis of its evolution, and design two distinct breeding plans.
Requirement 1: Highlight its unique traits
Requirement 2: Keep the timeline short
Requirement 3: Minimize training expenses wherever possible
2. Using the provided data and terrain distribution maps, analyze how fossil Pokémon within the Grampa Valley underground cave nature reserve have survived for tens of thousands of years. Additionally, design similar environmental nodes that could extend a Pokémon's lifespan in comparable fashion.
(Data tables and maps attached.)
"Whoa…" Silas let out a low breath, then his eyes sparkled with excitement. They're handing me free points.
After all, he was the one who had discovered Leafeon and fossil Pokémon in the first place. To him, this data was second nature.
In truth, these two essay questions weren't nearly as difficult as they looked. Compared to past exams, they were even easier.
Designing training plans had always been a staple topic — the only difference this time was tying it to a newly discovered Eeveelution, keeping it current.
The real test was how up-to-date the candidates were with the League's Pokémon research. If a breeder couldn't keep up with the latest discoveries, how could they hope to train Pokémon for their clients?
That part wouldn't trouble anyone here. Leafeon's discovery had already stirred a tidal wave of attention. Even Silas, who'd been away in the wild, had realized it the moment he checked the forums back in town.
And fossil Pokémon? That wasn't a wave — it was a tsunami.
The second essay's "environmental nodes" looked intimidating, but it wasn't. They weren't asking examinees to construct a full ecosystem — that was a Breeding Master's job.
It was far too early for examinees at the junior-to-intermediate breeder level to be worrying about things like that.
A "node" was really just one small component of a complete ecosystem. For the purposes of the Level Six Breeder exam's essay questions, as long as your logic was internally consistent, it was enough.
As long as you didn't go off the rails — like suggesting an unsupported hypothesis, or relying on something absurd such as Legendary Pokémon energy as the cornerstone — you would earn points. It was considered a fairly common exam question type.
The real difficulty of the second essay lay in analyzing the entire underground fossil ecosystem. It was very easy to overlook critical scoring points.
But Silas smirked inwardly. Heh. When Professor Rowan and Professor Oak were discussing this very subject, I was sitting right there beside them.
Without hesitation, he pulled up the answer screen and began writing swiftly.
The whole written exam was only two hours long. With so many questions, such a huge volume, and the requirement that the final essay answers be long and detailed to avoid losing points, time was extremely tight.
The exam hall was utterly silent, save for the soft tapping of fingers against touchscreens.
Time slipped away unnoticed. To the candidates, it felt like only an instant before the exam abruptly ended.
"Wen~"
A ripple of psychic energy swept across the room, and everyone's hands froze at once.
"Alright, everyone. The results will be announced in one hour. Those who score at least 90 points may proceed to the practical exam. Please leave the classroom now and wait outside."
The proctor announced coldly.
As the submissions were finalized, the psychic restraint slowly dissipated.
The examinees filed out of the room in groups.
Some sighed heavily — it was obvious they hadn't finished in time.
"Man, that test was tough," one groaned.
"Yeah, I know. There was so much Pokémon knowledge crammed in. I've been memorizing that encyclopedia for years, and it still wasn't enough," another said, shaking his head in frustration.
"Exactly! And that question about summarizing the fossil Pokémon's ecosystem — there were so many key points. I'm not sure I listed them all. I only managed 21."
That last comment was a humblebrag if ever there was one.
Twenty-one? You didn't get them all. There were twenty-seven in total, Silas thought expressionlessly.
"Hey, Silas! How do you think you did?"
The owner of Sanqi Breeding House, the local shopkeeper Silas knew, came up cheerfully.
"Ah, not bad. I think it went okay," Silas replied politely.
He certainly couldn't say, It was ridiculously easy. Anyone with hands could've passed. That would've gotten him punched.
"No worries, no worries! You're still young. If you don't pass this time, there's always the next. Honestly, just scoring above 80 is already impressive!"
Clearly, the shopkeeper had completely misunderstood what Silas meant.
He gave Silas a consoling pat on the shoulder before hurrying off to compare answers with his acquaintances.
In truth, it seemed that no matter the place or the social class, the scene after an exam was always the same everywhere.
Silas found a rest seat off to the side and sat quietly, waiting for the results.
The reason the League required a score of at least 90 to move on to the practical exam was largely to save resources. After all, if you couldn't even reach that threshold, there was no point wasting further cost or effort on you.
"Look! The results are out!"
Excited shouts rippled through the waiting area as the screens lit up, displaying names and scores.
At the very top:
1st Place – Silas Alaric – 100
Silas glanced at the line calmly. His face betrayed no expression, as if it were only natural.
In the distance, the Sanqi Breeding House shopkeeper froze, stunned. The clown… turned out to be me. He had only managed 91 points. And at his age — he was already as old as a Granbull!
Of course, Silas wasn't the only one to score a perfect 100. Two other candidates had as well.
But by tradition, rankings were listed from youngest to oldest, the younger the candidate, the greater their potential, and thus the higher their name appeared.
Clap clap!
The proctor clapped his hands sharply.
"Now then. Would the 94 candidates who passed please follow me. Those who did not pass — please continue working hard, and better luck next time."
Without waiting for reactions, he turned and strode inward.
Silas quickly rose to his feet and followed.