The entire city was crisscrossed with flowing water and adorned with blooming flowers. To Ryuuske, this place was like another world's version of Venice—a floating city where rivers replaced roads, countless bridges spanned the waterways, and people relied on Water-type Pokémon and boats as their primary means of transportation. Even the buildings themselves were constructed atop the water.
After his encounters with Lance and Giovanni, Ryuuske had spent another half-month in Mt. Moon. Thanks to Lance's "Viridian Power" healing his Gabite before leaving, the injuries it sustained in the battle against Graveler had fully recovered. Once it regained its stamina and combat readiness, Ryuuske was able to endure the harsh mountain environment for those extra weeks.
During this time, his main focus had been training Dratini. He didn't expect it to become as battle-ready as Gabite in just half a month, but he wanted to unlock its latent potential as a Dragon-type, acclimating it to combat, honing its skill usage, and strengthening their bond so that it could flawlessly follow his commands.
Fortunately, thanks to his "Dragon's Power," Ryuuske had an easier time building rapport with Dragon-types. He could intuitively sense their emotions and intentions, allowing him to command Dratini with precision—almost like a trainer who had spent years with their Pokémon. Combined with Mewtwo's psychic abilities and his own understanding of Pokémon energy, Ryuuske could visualize his Pokémon's growth, as if watching an experience bar fill up in a game.
Unlike other trainers, who could only notice their Pokémon's progress after significant breakthroughs, Ryuuske could see incremental improvements in real-time. This constant feedback kept him motivated, reinforcing his belief that his training methods were working.
I've always thought of myself as a lazy person, Ryuuske mused. But because I can actually see their progress, I can push through the grind, trusting that I'm on the right path.
"Finally… Cerulean City."
Covered in dirt and grime, Ryuuske let out a long sigh of relief. Compared to Viridian Forest, the rugged terrain of Mt. Moon had been far more grueling. After over two months of trekking through wilderness, his clothes were frayed and full of holes—not quite as tattered as Giovanni's shredded suit, but close.
Returning to civilization felt like a weight lifting off his shoulders. Both he and his Pokémon—Gabite and Dratini—had reached their mental and physical limits.
"Viridian City is surrounded by forests, Pewter City is nestled in the mountains, and Cerulean is a floating paradise… Kanto's cities really do have their own distinct flavors."
Standing by the riverside, Ryuuske let the breeze wash over him. Willow branches swayed along the banks, boats glided across interconnected waterways, and the distant hum of the city blended into a serene ambiance.
Cerulean was a city of contradictions—both highly accessible and inconvenient. Land routes were congested, while water travel was painfully slow.
As a trainer, Ryuuske's first stop in any city was always the Pokémon Center. He didn't have the energy to sightsee; instead, he hailed a taxi and headed straight there.
After navigating narrow streets and winding bridges, he finally arrived at the central Pokémon Center. Like all others, it was bustling with trainers coming and going, the lobby alive with chatter and occasional bursts of laughter.
Ignoring the noise, Ryuuske made his way to the front desk, flashed his badges, and booked a room.
Pokémon Centers weren't just for healing Pokémon—they served as hubs for trainers. In a world where Pokémon were integral to daily life, individual trainers held disproportionate power. Human collective strength had diminished in the face of Pokémon's overwhelming might, making trainers the de facto enforcers of stability—or instability.
In my old world, someone like Lance would be the equivalent of a combined naval fleet, elite ground forces, and an air division—all concentrated into a single person. And that's terrifying. This isn't power derived from technology or hierarchy—it's raw, personal strength.
"Your room number is 1107. Here's your keycard—please keep it safe!"
The receptionist smiled sweetly as she handed him the key. Ryuuske's disheveled appearance didn't faze her; seasoned trainers often looked far worse. It was the rookies, who relied on safe, structured battles, that showed up pristine.
"Um, excuse me… Are you Ryuuske, the trainer who earned the Boulder Badge in Pewter City?"
"Huh? You know me?" Ryuuske glanced up, surprised.
"You've finally made it to Cerulean! So many people have been waiting for you! When do you plan to challenge Misty, our Gym Leader? Oh—sorry, I got too excited… Could I… maybe get your autograph?"
Her words tumbled out in an eager rush, as if she were talking to a celebrity.
"I'll think about the Gym challenge later. Right now, I just need rest."
Amused, Ryuuske signed his name for her before heading off amidst her effusive thanks.
As he walked through the lobby, an odd hush fell over the crowd. Trainers turned to stare, whispers rippling through the room.
What's going on? Even if I made a splash in Pewter City over a month ago, that shouldn't mean everyone recognizes me.
It didn't make sense. In an era of constant information overload, even the biggest news stories faded within weeks. Celebrities had to keep manufacturing scandals just to stay relevant. While the Pewter tournament had been high-profile, Ryuuske doubted it had turned him into a household name.
Did something happen in the last two weeks?
He needed to check the news—immediately.
To be continued…