"Master, welcome back."
Just as Ash was thinking that Uncle Munemasa truly was a good man, the disciples training in the dojo paused and bowed deeply to him. Their respect was unmistakable—Ash could see genuine gratitude in their eyes.
"Mm. Continue your drills. Zhengyuan, go prepare a few cups of hot tea, and bring some refreshments as well," Munemasa instructed a bald boy.
"Yes, Master."
Zhengyuan hurried off, while Ash and Sabrina followed Munemasa into the living area—a room overlooking the dojo floor so one could observe the disciples' training even while seated.
"Welcome. Please, make yourselves comfortable," Munemasa said warmly.
Zhengyuan soon returned carrying a tray with steaming tea and light snacks.
"Thank you," Ash said, taking a cup and sipping. The warmth soothed both mind and body.
"Uncle Munemasa," Ash asked, "with your strength—quasi-Champion level—you could easily secure a position within the League. Why didn't you join them?"
Munemasa gave a weary smile. "It's not that simple. I tried… but without backing, there is no place to stand. In the League, strength alone isn't enough."
He paused before continuing.
"I served for a short time, but political pressure and favoritism made the position untenable. I eventually resigned. To powerful families who donate heavily to the League, a single quasi-Champion is insignificant. The League won't offend wealth and influence for someone like me."
Ash's gaze hardened. "It seems the Johto League truly lacks vision. Much worse than the Kanto League."
He already disliked Johto's bureaucrats—this only deepened that impression. Unlike Kanto, Johto seemed entirely dominated by entrenched family interests, leaving no room for outsiders.
"You're Ash Ketchum of Kanto. I didn't expect to see you here."
A voice came from the entrance. A boy with purple hair walked in, carrying a laptop. His posture was confident, and the disciples instantly straightened upon seeing him.
"Master," Zhengyuan said respectfully. The boy's strength was second only to Munemasa's, and his status among the trainees was extremely high.
"Don't mind him," Munemasa said. "This is my son—Shinmu."
"Oh? Your son."
Ash studied him with interest. "A quasi-Elite… and a data-focused trainer, judging by that laptop. Reminds me of a fellow I know."
Munemasa nodded. "Yes. Shinmu specializes in data-driven Pokémon strategies. The reason I invited you here… is to ask if you'd be willing to battle him."
Ash leaned back, a faint smirk forming. "I don't mind. Just don't blame me if he can't take the loss."
He thought inwardly, amused.
He had barely left Violet City, and already he'd run into yet another challenger with a flawed training direction. Was this world determined to keep throwing misguided trainers at him?
"It's fine," Munemasa said calmly. "I want him to understand what a true Pokémon battle is."
"Your trainer level is quasi-Champion. You should be able to defeat your son easily, so why ask someone else to battle him?" Sabrina asked, puzzled. In theory, Shinmu's level was far below Munemasa's—there shouldn't be a problem.
Ash shook his head. "No. Uncle Munemasa has age and experience on his side. Shinmu knows that. If he loses to his father, he'll simply accept it as natural. That's why Uncle Munemasa wants a trainer of similar age to battle him. It's the right call."
Sabrina nodded slightly. When Ash explained it, the reasoning became clear.
Ash set his teacup down. "So, how do you want to do this? If you want to back out, I won't force you."
"Back out?"
Shinmu gave a short laugh. "Don't underestimate me. Yes, you're a Champion… but according to the data I've gathered, you didn't bring your full Kanto team to Johto—only Pikachu."
He flipped open his laptop, fingers tapping rapidly as he pulled up Ash's recorded information.
Ash remained expressionless. "If that's how it is, then let's begin."
Internally, though, he sighed.
Shinmu was walking the wrong path. If Temple was only thirty percent mistaken in his "data-flow" approach, then Shinmu was more than fifty percent lost.
Munemasa led them to the training field.
"Each of you will use only one Pokémon," he announced. " Shinmu will be using Bray, his Scizor."
Ash nodded. "Then I'll use… her."
He tossed a Poké Ball into the air. A burst of white light flared—
—and a Ralts in an elegant white, princess-like dress materialized gracefully before them.