The adjustable weights were simpler than Adrian expected.
Four dark bands came in the set, two designed for Croagunk’s wrists and two for its ankles.
Each contained removable metal inserts, allowing the weight to increase gradually as the Pokémon grew stronger.
The instructions specifically warned against starting with the maximum load.
Croagunk considered instructions optional.
It sat on the edge of Adrian’s bed and watched as he removed several inserts from each band.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Croa.”
“Yesterday a Nidorino kicked you across a warehouse.”
Croagunk’s expression darkened.
Adrian held up one of the weights.
“Exactly.
We’re starting light.”
Their dorm room was empty.
The other recruits assigned there had already left, taking advantage of the complete freedom Team Rocket offered.
Adrian had learned quickly that everyone approached the month differently.
Some recruits spent nearly every waking hour in the battle arenas, others disappeared into Cerulean City for entire days, and a few had already begun forming groups to complete missions together.
Nobody checked attendance.
Nobody asked where they were going.
The only thing everyone shared was the countdown displayed throughout the base.
26 Days Until Trial Two.
Adrian fastened the weights around Croagunk’s wrists and ankles.
The Poison-type stood, and its posture changed.
Not dramatically, but enough.
“Walk.”
Croagunk took several steps, its movements slightly heavier.
“Jump.”
Croagunk crouched and sprang upward.
It landed awkwardly.
Adrian nodded.
“Good.”
Croagunk stared at him.
“Good means they’re working.”
The stare continued.
“You’ll thank me eventually.”
Croagunk doubted that.
Adrian grabbed his backpack.
“Come on.”
They headed for the swamp.
The first hour was miserable.
Mostly for Croagunk.
Adrian didn’t allow it to practice Cross Chop.
Instead, they worked on movement.
Forward.
Backward.
Sideways.
Jump.
Turn.
Stop.
Again.
Croagunk’s natural movements were quick and spring-like.
The weights interfered with that rhythm, forcing it to expend more effort on actions that had previously been effortless.
That was precisely what Adrian wanted.
“Left!”
Croagunk jumped.
“Right!”
Another jump.
“Forward!”
Croagunk lunged.
“Back!”
It landed and pushed backward.
After twenty minutes, its breathing had already become heavier.
Adrian gave it a short break, then they started again.
He wasn’t trying to exhaust Croagunk.
He wanted adaptation.
There was a difference.
Once Croagunk became accustomed to the weight, Adrian could add another insert.
Eventually, removing the bands during battle should make its body feel significantly lighter.
At least that was the theory.
Whether Pokémon physiology worked exactly that way remained to be seen, and Adrian wasn’t going to assume knowledge from Earth was automatically correct here.
That was why he tested everything.
After another hour, they moved to Cross Chop.
“Quarter strength.”
Croagunk crossed its arms and struck the training post.
The weights pulled its arms downward slightly faster than expected, ruining the angle.
“Again.” Second attempt.
Better.
“Again.” Third.
“Don’t lean forward.” Fourth.
“Feet wider.” Fifth.
By the tenth attempt, Croagunk’s movements had improved.
By the twentieth, sweat covered its skin.
“Stop.”
Croagunk dropped onto the damp ground.
Adrian handed it water, then sat beside it and opened his notebook.
Cross Chop
Full power.
High damage, poor recovery.
Half power.
Lower damage, significantly better recovery.
Weighted training.
Balance currently worse.
Primary objective.
Eliminate recovery opening.
Underneath, he added another line.
Develop multiple Cross Chop applications rather than treating it as one fixed attack.
That was becoming one of Adrian’s biggest realizations.
Moves weren’t buttons.
Croagunk didn’t have to perform Cross Chop identically every time.
The basic technique involved channeling energy through crossed arms and striking with both.
Everything surrounding that foundation could change.
Angle.
Power.
Timing.
Movement.
Target.
Eventually, perhaps even the way Croagunk transitioned into and out of the technique.
Adrian closed the notebook.
“Enough strength training.”
Croagunk looked relieved.
“We’re battling.”
The relief vanished.
Adrian laughed.
They didn’t enter the public arena.
Instead, Adrian found one of the smaller sparring sections near the edge of the swamp.
Several automated targets occupied the clearing, capable of moving along tracks embedded beneath the ground.
He activated the lowest setting.
A circular target shot sideways.
“Poison Sting!”
Croagunk fired.
Miss.
The target reversed.
“Again.”
Several needles flew.
One connected.
“Again.”
They continued.
Poison Sting had been useful against Rattata, but its accuracy became noticeably worse against moving opponents.
Croagunk tended to fire directly at where the target currently was rather than where it would be.
Adrian changed his commands.
“Lead it.”
Croagunk blinked.
Adrian pointed toward the moving target.
Shoot where it’s going.”
The target moved left.
“Watch.” Adrian waited.
“Now!”
Croagunk fired ahead of it.
The target moved directly into the barrage.
Three needles struck.
Croagunk’s eyes widened slightly.
“Again.”
The next attempt missed.
So did the one after that.
The fourth connected.
Then the fifth.
Gradually, Croagunk understood.
Adrian increased the target speed.
Accuracy dropped again.
Good.
If everything worked, they weren’t training hard enough.
They continued until Croagunk’s Poison Sting became noticeably weaker.
Adrian stopped the machine.
“Done.”
Croagunk didn’t argue this time.
Three hours.
Enough.
He checked its status.
Pokémon Scan
Species: Croagunk ♂ Level: 6.
Rank: Baby Potential: Blue Ability: Anticipation Moves: Poison Sting · Mud-Slap · Fake Out (Egg Move) · Cross Chop (Egg Move) Status: Fatigued Evaluation: Extraordinary Individual
No level increase.
Adrian hadn’t expected one.
Growth wasn’t going to happen every few hours.
They needed consistency.
He returned Croagunk and headed toward the Mission Hall.
Training improved strength.
Missions paid for better training.
He needed both.
The Mission Hall was packed.
Adrian had begun recognizing some of the recruits from the first trial.
He didn’t know most of their names, but their Pokémon made them easier to remember.
The girl with Magnemite, the skinny boy with Sandshrew, a blond recruit whose Growlithe had nearly burned him during the first trial.
Several were gathered around the F-Rank mission board.
Adrian understood why when he approached.
Most of the good missions were gone.
Delivery.
7 TRP.
Cleaning.
5 TRP.
Inventory Assistance.
6 TRP.
Kitchen Shift.
4 TRP.
He frowned.
Yesterday he’d found a thirty-point mission without difficulty.
Today, anything above fifteen had already been taken.
“Finally figured it out?”
Adrian turned.
Mason stood nearby, Machop’s Poké Ball resting on his belt.
“Figured what out?”
“The decent missions disappear early.” Mason nodded toward the board.
“People started lining up before sunrise.”
Adrian looked around.
That explained the crowd.
“How much have you made?”
Mason grinned.
“Seventy-four.”
Adrian raised an eyebrow.
More than he currently had, although Adrian had already spent fifty.
“Not bad.”
“You?”
“Twenty-seven.”
Mason’s grin widened.
“That’s terrible.”
“I spent fifty.”
The grin disappeared.
“On what?”
“Training equipment.”
Mason stared at him for a second, then nodded slowly.
“Fair.”
Adrian turned back toward the board.
“What did you buy?”
“Nothing.”
“Saving?”
“There’s a Low Kick training manual for two hundred.”
Adrian glanced toward Machop’s Poké Ball.
That made sense.
A specialized manual wasn’t a TM.
Machop already knew Low Kick.
The manual presumably contained exercises and techniques developed by experienced trainers to improve the move.
Team Rocket sold knowledge too.
Adrian filed that away.
Mason suddenly leaned closer.
“There’s another way.”
“To earn TRP?”
“Battles.”
Adrian looked at him.
Mason pointed toward a different terminal.
Adrian had seen ranked battles before but hadn’t examined them closely.
They walked over.
Rocket Wager Battles
Minimum Wager: 5 TRP Maximum Recruit Wager: 100 TRP Winner receives 90% of total pot.
10% organizational fee.
Adrian read it twice.
“So Rocket takes ten percent.”
“Of course.” Mason laughed.
“You think they built those arenas for charity?”
Fair point.
Below the rules was a list of open challenges.
5 TRP, 10 TRP, 20 TRP, most of them small.
Then Adrian noticed one.
Recruit Darius Pokémon: Squirtle Wager: 25 TRP
Mason noticed where he was looking.
“Don’t.”
“Why?”
“He’s won six straight.”
That made Adrian more curious, not less.
He selected the trainer profile.
No detailed Pokémon information appeared.
Only publicly recorded battle results.
Wins: 8 Losses: 1
Eight and one.
Among recruits who’d owned their Pokémon for only a few days, that was impressive.
“Twenty-five points…” Adrian murmured.
Mason shook his head.
“That’s almost everything you have.”
Exactly.
Adrian could take a five-point battle.
Safe.
Low reward.
Or he could risk nearly everything.
Then he remembered Nidorino.
There was a difference between confidence and stupidity.
He closed Darius’s profile.
Mason looked surprised.
“Not yet.”
Adrian selected a different challenge.
Recruit Lena Pokémon: Oddish Wager: 10 TRP Wins: 2 Losses: 2
Balanced record.
Reasonable risk.
Adrian accepted.
Wager Confirmed 10 TRP deducted.
Current Balance: 17 TRP Battle: Arena 9.
15 minutes
Mason grinned.
“I’ll watch.”
“Planning to study me?”
“Planning to watch you lose ten points.”
Adrian started walking.
“Then try not to be disappointed.”
Arena Nine was smaller than the field where Adrian had battled Mason.
Lena was already there.
About Adrian’s age, with dark hair tied behind her head, an Oddish standing beside her rather than remaining inside its Poké Ball.
Adrian scanned it.
Pokémon Scan
Species: Oddish ♀ Level: 7.
Rank: Baby Potential: Orange Ability: Chlorophyll Moves: Absorb · Growth · Acid · Sweet Scent Status: Healthy Evaluation: Above Average Individual
Level seven.
One above Croagunk.
But the moveset mattered more.
Acid could be troublesome.
Absorb allowed recovery.
Growth could make the battle worse if Adrian gave Oddish time to set up.
He released Croagunk.
The Poison-type landed on the field wearing all four training weights.
Lena noticed.
“You’re battling with those?”
Adrian looked at Croagunk, then at the weights.
He considered removing them.
That had been the original plan eventually, train weighted, battle unweighted.
But Croagunk had worn them for only a few hours.
Removing them now wouldn’t provide much benefit.
More importantly, this wasn’t a life-or-death fight.
It was training with ten TRP attached.
“They stay.”
Lena shrugged.
“Your loss.”
The automated system activated.
Wager Battle Adrian.
10 TRP Lena.
10 TRP Winner’s Award: 18 TRP
So the winner profited eight.
Rocket always won.
“Begin!”
Lena moved first.
“Sweet Scent!”
Oddish shook the leaves atop its head.
A sweet-smelling pink cloud spread across the battlefield.
Adrian understood.
Visibility.
“Back!”
Croagunk retreated.
“Growth!”
Oddish’s body glowed.
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
There it was.
Lena wasn’t rushing, she was building an advantage.
If Adrian allowed that to continue, Oddish would become increasingly dangerous.
“Poison Sting!”
Croagunk fired through the pink haze.
Lena smiled.
“Left!”
Oddish moved.
The needles missed.
Adrian frowned.
Sweet Scent wasn’t blocking Oddish’s vision.
It was interfering with Croagunk’s ability to track its opponent.
“Acid!”
Purple liquid emerged through the haze.
“Move!”
Croagunk jumped aside.
The Acid splashed across the ground.
Some struck its ankle, and Croagunk flinched.
Lena followed.
“Absorb!”
Green energy gathered around Oddish.
Adrian saw the pattern.
Control distance, strengthen with Growth, wear the opponent down, recover damage.
If he played Lena’s game, he’d lose.
So don’t.
“Croagunk.” The Poison-type glanced back.
Adrian pointed directly into the pink cloud.
“Go in.”
Mason, watching from outside the field, straightened.
Lena frowned.
“Acid!”
Croagunk charged.
Purple liquid flew toward it.
“Fake Out!”
Croagunk suddenly accelerated.
The Acid passed behind it as Croagunk burst through the Sweet Scent cloud.
Oddish appeared directly ahead, its eyes widening.
Croagunk’s palm was already moving.
Smack!
Oddish tumbled backward.
“Cross Chop.
Quarter strength!”
Croagunk crossed its arms.
The weights dragged against the movement, but after hours of practice, its balance held.
The strike landed.
Oddish crashed onto its side.
“Get away!” Lena shouted.
Oddish tried.
“Poison Sting!”
Croagunk fired ahead of it rather than directly at it.
Oddish moved into the attack.
Several needles struck.
It collapsed.
Silence.
Then the automated voice sounded.
“Oddish unable to continue.
Winner: Adrian.”
Croagunk straightened.
Adrian smiled.
Not because they’d won, but because the Poison Sting had landed exactly where Croagunk intended.
This morning, it couldn’t reliably lead a moving target.
Now it had done so during a real battle.
The terminal chimed.
Wager Victory Award: +18 TRP Current Balance: 35 TRP
Eight points of profit.
Small.
But Adrian understood something as he watched Croagunk walk back toward him.
Missions weren’t the only way to earn TRP.
Training wasn’t separate from earning either.
If he became good enough, his strength itself could become an investment.
Twenty-six days remained.
And Adrian was beginning to understand how he wanted to spend them.