"I don't really have any objections, but—"
Before Silas could finish his sentence, Walker interrupted him with a delighted expression.
"Since you agree, that couldn't be better. I'll go call him right now."
With that, Walker hurriedly rushed out of the reception room.
Silas opened his mouth as if to say something, but he didn't get the chance.
It wasn't that he was worried about losing.
According to Walker, Falkner had only just passed twenty years old. Among his main team, only four Pokémon had reached the pseudo–Elite level. By comparison, that was actually inferior to Silas back when he was preparing to participate in the Indigo Plateau Conference just two or three months ago.
Not to mention that Silas's strength had continued to improve without pause during this time.
Moreover, it was a well-recognized and unavoidable fact that Trainers who specialized in a single Pokémon type were inherently at a disadvantage in battle.
There was still a fairly large gap in strength between the two of them.
The real issue, in Silas's view, was that defeating Falkner would not necessarily correct the flawed ideas he held.
But whatever.
Silas thought indifferently since Walker had said so, he would just go along with it. As for what happened afterward, the father and son would surely find a way to resolve things themselves.
Come to think of it, Silas remembered that Walker wasn't even forty yet, but Falkner was already twenty. He had assumed Falkner was around eighteen.
Then again, it made sense.
In this world, sixteen was considered adulthood and the age at which one could legally own Pokémon. As a result, the average marriage age hovered around twenty. For someone like Walker, a wealthy Gym heir that went without saying.
Leaving aside political marriages between factions, people like him often had childhood sweethearts who grew up alongside them.
Getting married as soon as they came of age was hardly uncommon.
Silas suddenly felt the tea he was drinking taste oddly sour.
Then he remembered that James not only had a childhood sweetheart but had even run away from an arranged marriage. Suddenly, the tea tasted even less pleasant.
"Women only slow down my thinking during battles."
Thus thought Silas, a man who had been single for two lifetimes and had never tasted the sweetness of love was full of indignation.
Naturally, it never occurred to him that the problem might lie in the fact that he was simply too much of a dense, steel-hearted straight man.
"Silas, let me introduce you. This is my son, Falkner."
Silas didn't have to wait long. Walker soon returned, dragging along a young man whose face was filled with reluctance.
Definitely his biological son.
That was Silas's first thought when he saw Walker and Falkner standing side by side.
The two of them looked far too similar.
Setting aside their clothing, their facial structure, hairstyle, and even hair color were almost identical.
Especially their blue bangs, both split into three strands. The only difference was that one covered the left eye, while the other covered the right.
For a moment, Silas almost felt as if he were looking at two Walkers standing in front of him.
"Hello."
Although surprised by their resemblance, Silas still greeted him politely.
"…Hello."
Although Falkner was clearly displeased at being forcibly dragged here by his father for what he called "a lesson," he had been raised since childhood as a Gym successor. His etiquette was still impeccable.
Suppressing his dissatisfaction, he returned Silas's greeting.
And then, the room fell into silence.
"That's your Hoothoot, right? It's been raised very well."
To break the awkward silence, Silas offered a rather dry compliment to the Hoothoot perched on Falkner's shoulder.
This was genuinely what he thought.
The red eyes of the Hoothoot on Falkner's shoulder even seemed to glow faintly, indicating excellent mental strength. Its feathers were smooth and glossy, showing that it was well-fed, Pokémon like this usually possessed high-quality internal energy.
On top of that, its wing development was clearly superior compared to others of its species.
"Hoot."
Hearing Silas's praise, the Hoothoot round like a brown ball, smiled so hard its eyes narrowed into slits.
It knew it was being complimented.
Because Hoothoot possesses an internal organ that senses the Earth's rotation, it cries out at the exact same time every day. Many people treat it as a living clock and keep one with them.
For Trainers in particular, who often have to wake up early, a Hoothoot's call can be extremely useful.
Hoothoot also has a very interesting trait that creates a common misconception.
Many people believe Hoothoot has only a single, massive leg, making it a one-legged Pokémon, but that isn't actually the case.
Hoothoot has two powerful legs capable of supporting its entire body. However, because it switches legs extremely quickly, the movement is nearly impossible to see, giving the illusion that it always stands on just one.
Its evolved form, Noctowl, is also a fairly strong Flying-type Pokémon.
The main reason is that although it is not a Psychic-type, a Noctowl with good aptitude can learn many Psychic-type moves and apply them very effectively in battle.
"I think so too."
In response to Silas's praise, Falkner nodded matter-of-factly.
And once again, the atmosphere became awkward.
Walker had a headache.
In his opinion, this was his son's biggest problem.
Under normal Trainer interaction, when someone compliments your Pokémon's training, the conversation usually continues naturally. The two would exchange thoughts on training methods and discuss some basic theories.
Even if they didn't reveal anything too deep, fundamental ideas were usually shared.
But Falkner didn't do that.
He believed his own training methods were the best, especially when it came to Flying-type Pokémon. In his eyes, there was simply no need to exchange ideas with anyone else.
Confidence in youth was a good thing.
But Falkner's confidence had crossed into arrogance and that was not a good sign.
Even though Walker himself was extremely strong, he still frequently exchanged ideas with Trainers of all kinds to refine his own training plans.
After all, one person's thinking was always limited.
Being strong didn't mean one's training methods were flawless, it only meant they were more comprehensive.
Some Trainers followed extremely unorthodox paths, such as focusing solely on absolute defense or overwhelming offense.
"I know you."
Breaking the silence, Falkner suddenly looked at Silas and spoke.
"I've watched the videos from this year's Kanto Conference. Your Pidgeot is strong.
"But as fellow Trainers whose first Pokémon was Pidgeot, your Pidgeot is nowhere near a match for mine."
He said it as casually as if he were stating a simple fact.
Silas raised an eyebrow.
Oh?
Another youngster who hadn't been properly beaten yet.
Unconsciously, the look in his eyes turned sharp.
For a Trainer, having another Trainer say that your Pokémon is nowhere near theirs is nothing short of an open provocation.
"And besides, only the power of the sky is limitless. Only those who can borrow the strength of the wind can be the final victor. Your team can't achieve that at all."
Falkner paid no attention to Silas's gaze and continued delivering what he believed to be a "lesson."
Silas narrowed his eyes at Falkner, inexplicably reminded of that thoroughly unpleasant man he had encountered aboard the S.S. Anne.
He had to admit, after coming into contact with people he had only seen in the anime in his previous life, he realized that their real personalities differed greatly from how they were portrayed on screen.
That might have something to do with time and experience.
But Silas had no interest in waiting that long.
"Oh? Then do you think Groudon is useless, or that Kyogre is even worse?"
Silas let out a disdainful chuckle in response to Falkner's claim.
If Falkner said something like that in the Hoenn region, he'd probably get cursed out by plenty of people.
Of course, he might also receive support from a large number of Rayquaza worshippers.
Seeing the two young men clearly at odds, Walker, who should have stepped in as an elder to mediate, instead watched with great interest.
This was exactly the situation he had hoped to see from the beginning.
It was only because of both of their good manners that things hadn't escalated earlier.
Now that a few words had been exchanged, the conflict had finally surfaced.
As a Trainer who specialized in Flying-type Pokémon, Walker knew very well that the paths these two youngsters were walking were fundamentally different.
Specialization versus diversified development, this was an eternal debate among Trainers.
Especially for young Trainers who had only recently set foot on their journey, these two philosophies were sharply opposed.
But for older "veterans" like Walker, specialization and multi-type team construction were not contradictory concepts.
Walker clapped his hands cheerfully, drawing both of their attention.
"Since your viewpoints conflict, why not settle it with a battle?
"Only the victorious Trainer has the right to speak—this is a Trainer's tradition, isn't it?"
Hearing this, Silas and Falkner exchanged a glance, then nodded simultaneously.
Even though they both knew Walker was doing this deliberately, after the earlier exchange, neither of them was particularly fond of the other anyway.
A battle would do just fine.
The three quickly arrived at one of the battle fields inside Violet Gym.
"Perfect timing. If you win, the Zephyr Badge from Violet Gym will be awarded to you as part of the prize."
Standing in the referee's position, Walker spoke to Silas.
"He won't get the Badge from me."
Before Silas could acknowledge this, Falkner declared his determination to win.
"Well, your mouth really does suit a bird Pokémon,"
Silas, now thoroughly irritated, immediately switched into mockery mode.
"Now then, Violet Gym's Falkner versus Silas of Verdain, a three-on-three battle, begins!"
Seeing the tension in the air, Walker announced the match without delay.
"Dodrio, show them the pride of a bird Pokémon!"
Since a Badge was on the line, Falkner—representing the Gym, sent out his Pokémon first.
The three-headed Dodrio appeared noisily on the battlefield.
Silas was naturally no stranger to this Pokémon.
In many cities, Dodrio were commonly used as a standard means of short-distance transportation.
This was also why Violet Gym, a Flying-type Gym, had long maintained large-scale training of Dodrio to handle Gym battles.
Clearly, Falkner's pseudo–Elite–level Dodrio was fundamentally different from its weaker kin.
"Kiwi—!"
Dodrio's three heads—representing anger, sorrow, and joy, let out sharp cries.
Each head possessed its own independent emotions and thoughts. In order to act normally, all three had to remain unified, but they often argued or even fought among themselves. Trainers had to pay special attention to coordinating them.
Although classified as a bird Pokémon, Dodrio excelled more at running than flying.
"Then show your elegance, Serperior."
After a brief observation, Silas sent out his own partner.
"Using a Grass-type Pokémon against a Flying-type, what a foolish choice."
Seeing Silas's selection, Falkner's expression darkened.
"As long as it wins, it's a good choice," Silas replied calmly.
"Serperior, use Vine Whip."
"Ser—!"
With a soft cry, two green vines rapidly extended from either side of Serperior's body.
"Hmph. Dodrio, dodge it, then rush in and use Peck!"
Falkner scoffed dismissively.
With that kind of speed, you think you can hit a Dodrio that specializes in running?
"Kiwi!"
At Falkner's command, Dodrio's three heads instantly reached consensus. It stretched its long legs and sprinted at full speed.
Whoosh—whoosh!
With agile movements, both Vine Whips flashed past its sides.
"Good! Show it some color!"
Watching Dodrio evade the attack cleanly, Falkner shouted excitedly.
So this is all a Kanto Conference Top 16 Trainer can do? That was the thought that flashed through his mind.
"Bind it."
Silas, however, calmly uttered three words.
The Vine Whips that Dodrio had just dodged suddenly changed direction in midair, shooting straight toward its legs.
"What?!"
Falkner froze.
Vine Whip changing direction was one thing that was something any Grass-type Pokémon could do.
But this wasn't just a turn.
A turn meant slightly altering trajectory while moving forward at high speed.
This was a full reversal after overshooting, which was on an entirely different level of difficulty.
Silas remained calm.
The principle behind this move was similar to the whip techniques found in traditional martial arts from his previous life.
The key wasn't merely redirecting the Vine Whips, it was maintaining their striking power even during the reversal.
Bang!
Completely unprepared for an attack from behind, Dodrio was bound by the Vine Whips around its legs and crashed to the ground.
Although Grass-type moves didn't deal much damage to it, combined with the recoil from its high-speed movement, the damage was impossible to ignore.
"Maintain pressure, use Sweet Scent on Dodrio."
Before Falkner could counterattack, Silas issued another command.
....
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