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Chapter 3 - Chapter 3 — Rock Breakers and Royal Blood

Pewter Gym loomed ahead like a stone fortress, its walls thick and unyielding.

The locals had whispered about Brock — unbeatable, unshakable, his Onix the size of a small building.

Most rookies left humiliated.

We walked in with zero intention of being "most rookies."

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Brock's Welcome

He looked exactly like the anime — spiky hair, arms crossed, that "wise older brother" vibe.

"You're here for a Boulder Badge?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "But I'm not here for a tutorial."

He smirked faintly. "We'll see."

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Battle Start

He led with Geodude.

"Pikachu — Lightning Armor jog!"

The crowd blinked when Pikachu blurred forward, his fur outlined in a flicker of gold. This wasn't a wild Thunderbolt — it was contained. He ducked under Geodude's first tackle, Iron Tail striking with surgical precision to the side joint.

Geodude grunted, swayed — and Pikachu stutter-stepped right past, delivering a pinpoint shock to the neck joint.

One down.

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Onix vs. Charmander

Brock's grin widened as Onix erupted from the ground.

"Rock Tomb!"

Massive boulders fell like meteors — but Charmander was already moving. Fire-channelled muscles made each dodge a blur of orange. He closed the gap mid-roll.

"Beam punch — uppercut!" I called.

The molten ember beam lanced upward as his Metal Claw caught Onix's jaw, the combined heat and impact making the giant flinch.

Brock barked, "Bind!" — coils closing in — but Charmander dug his claws in, blasting concentrated flame along his arms to sear the rock-skin. The smell of scorched stone filled the air.

Final call: "Tail vault — beam to the head!"

Charmander used his tail as a springboard off the arena floor, spun mid-air, and fired one last molten lance directly at Onix's crown.

The titan crashed down.

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Brock whistled low. "You've… done your homework. Badge well-earned."

He handed me the Boulder Badge, still looking like he was trying to reverse-engineer what just happened.

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The Royal Recruit

We left Pewter with the badge shining in my pocket. On the outskirts, I spotted movement in the grass — a Nidoran♂, its ears twitching as it foraged.

This wasn't about filling a roster.

This was about building a king.

Charmander provided distraction with a low flame, Pikachu zipped in behind, and I had the Poké Ball ready. Three seconds later, the Nidoran was mine.

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Training Directive — Project Monarch

That night, I started Nidoran's program:

Weights: Custom ankle and back harnesses, starting light but increasing daily.

Strength diet: Protein-heavy berry mix, high-nutrient forage, and ground-type mineral supplements.

Form drills: Horn jabs into hardwood posts for precision; explosive back-kicks against padded targets; tail sweeps for crowd control.

Momentum charge practice: Short sprints into tackles, building to full-speed body slams.

Endgame? A Nidoking that wasn't just strong — but fast, precise, and smart enough to weaponize every ounce of its dual typing.

Poison warfare in close quarters, ground-type shock power at range, and raw physical dominance.

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As we moved toward Mt. Moon, my team was no longer "Ash's starters."

They were becoming something far more dangerous.

And Team Rocket? They'd learn that the hard way soon.

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