"Wide Lens?"
Jason blinked when he saw it—an unexpected bonus.
Of course he knew what it was. For a Maushold that excels at multi-hit moves like Population Bomb, this thing is a godsend—boosting accuracy so those occasional whiffs turn into a terrifying finisher.
He hadn't expected the Maushold family to give it to him.
"Benefactor, this is an heirloom passed down in our clan," the Maushold elder said earnestly. "We know your sights are set on distant roads, and we have little with which to repay you. Perhaps this can help on your journey."
Jason didn't refuse. He took the Wide Lens, tucked it into his body, and thanked them.
We mice help mice.
Then he said his goodbyes to the Tandemaus. Time to start challenging Pokémon and filling the Dex.
His fighting strength was on a whole different level now. He felt absolutely confident he could survive across the breadth of Paldea. If he couldn't win, he could at least run.
Area Zero, though—he'd wait until he was stronger.
Sunlight dappled through the leaves. The forest exit was right ahead.
Just as he was about to leave, a gale saturated with spite and killing intent blasted from behind.
"Die! I'm going to avenge my parents!!!"
A shrill voice rode the wind.
Jason paused and turned. The same Fletchling that had fled the battle was diving at him, eyes blood-red.
Looking at its "I'm going to tear you apart" face, Jason felt no ripple—if anything, he almost laughed.
"Well, if it isn't the dutiful child."
He didn't need to think to guess its plan. It had probably been hiding around the forest for a month, ratting like a camper, waiting for him to leave the mice and be alone—then go for a cheap shot.
"Nice idea, but…" Pity flickered in his eyes. "You have no idea how big the gap is between us."
A month ago, a surprise attack like this might have flustered him. Now…
He actually felt a spark of interest. Perfect—an EXP piñata to test a month of training.
His body flashed, split, and recombined. In the next second, an adorably chibi Maushold of four white mice stood where he'd been.
The Fletchling came screaming in with Flame Charge. All four of Jason's little faces stayed calmly identical. He didn't retreat—he stepped in. Two of the mice thrust their tiny paws forward, sketching a half-arc.
Protect!
A pale green energy shield unfolded before them.
Boom!
Flame Charge slammed the shield, blasting out a shockwave—but the wafer-thin barrier didn't budge.
As the shield faded, Jason countered immediately. The other two mice shot out like arrows—one above, one below—firing off Double Hit: the upper one slammed its hard little head into Fletchling's back; the lower one spun and smacked its elastic butt right into Fletchling's face.
Thump! Smack!
With two crisp sounds, Fletchling let out a cry, tumbled head over tail in midair, and barely caught itself.
It stared, stunned, at the four unscathed mice below. Impossible. Its ambush—defused so easily? And that counterattack was downright humiliating. A butt to the face?
Stung by shame, its rage burned hotter. But instead of attacking again, it pulsed with a soft green light.
Roost.
It dropped to the ground, temporarily shedding its Flying typing to recover HP quickly. The minor injuries from Double Hit sealed up under the glow.
"Hmph!" Fletchling panted once, then struck what it thought was a cool pose and taunted, "Bet you didn't see that coming! I learned Roost not long ago! With this move, you can't beat me. I'll wear you down little by little!"
Smug, as if victory were guaranteed.
Jason just shook his head at the grade-school posturing.
"Tch. What's with the flashy nonsense?"
"Kid, you've got this backwards," he sighed inwardly. "You gave up your only edge—Flying—right in front of a grounded opponent, and chose to fight on my turf?"
"How ignorant."
Having used Roost and lost its Flying typing for the moment, the Fletchling watched the four mice march toward it in perfect step. No panic—if anything, a thin smile.
Come closer? Perfect. It'd let them nick it, then Roost back to full and counterattack. With Roost, it was invincible; it could outlast these four flimsy mice.
Its math was way, way off.
Jason was far faster than it imagined. The instant the four reached it, all four cute little faces curved into the same chilling smile—then a storm of teeth and claws swallowed Fletchling whole.
Population Bomb.
The four white mice became four streaks of lightning, pouncing from four directions and unleashing a frenzied chain of bites.
Even as Maushold's four bodies, they were all Jason. He split his focus four ways, coordinating them perfectly.
"One."
"Two."
"Three."
…
He counted the hits in his head, every bite landing on a joint or weak spot with surgical precision. In Fletchling's eyes—sliding from shock to terror to despair—Jason rolled the maximum:
Ten.
Crack!
With a clean snap of bone, the biting stopped. The Fletchling that had been boasting about outlasting him lay blood-soaked and feather-strewn on the ground, limp and lifeless.
One-shot.
[Defeated Fletchling…]
[Fletchling Dex completion +20%]
[Fletchling Dex current completion: 90%]
It died without ever understanding why his damage was so high, why it couldn't even get a single Roost off before being erased.
Jason dropped the form and returned to Ditto. He gave the corpse a cold glance and walked toward the forest's edge without looking back.
"Please."
"Technician plus Wide Lens accuracy, full ten-hit Population Bomb…"
"And you thought I couldn't one-shot a half-fledged dumb bird?"