Adamo Amet
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Chapter no.8 Talks with Oak
🕑 Added 2024-07-01 17:03:12 +0000 UTCLater, as the treats chilled, Austin flipped through The Physics of Pokémon: Understanding Their Moves by Professor Magnolia. A section caught his attention:
Instinctive Moves — These are moves that a Pokémon instinctively knows but requires the catalyst of a battle to ‘unlock.’ It’s like they have these moves lying dormant until the heat of battle triggers them.
Egg Moves — These moves awaken in Pokémon due to interspecies breeding. They are passed down from parents to offspring, sometimes resulting in moves that a Pokémon wouldn’t normally learn.
Tutor Moves — A phenomenon known as Pokémon Mimetics shows that Pokémon can teach some of their moves to other species. This can be replicated by professional move tutors, who help Pokémon learn moves outside their natural set.
“Pokémon Mimetics,” Austin murmured, imagining a classroom of Pokémon learning moves like students in a school. It was a fascinating thought, but definitely something he’d have to explore later.
TM Moves — TM, or Technical Machine, moves were created by Orrean scientist Konrad Zuse. He discovered that many Pokémon have vestigial organs that allow them to learn moves their species naturally can’t. The first successful TM was created in 1941 when an Eevee was taught the move ‘Stored Power’ using a combination of Psychic-type Pokémon and engineering.
Austin paused, his eyes lingering on the word Orrean. Orre? Isn’t that the region from Pokémon XD: Gale of Darkness? Nostalgia and worry raced through his mind. Could Team Cipher become a problem for me in the future?
“Pika.” Pikachu’s gentle pat on his leg snapped Austin out of his thoughts. Pikachu pointed at the clock with his tiny paw, reminding the boy of their current task.
Austin blinked, shaking off the heavy thoughts. “Right. Let’s see if the snacks are done.”
He pulled out a plate of freshly made treats. Taking a bite, he savored the rich, smooth chocolate melting on his tongue, the cold, creamy yogurt balancing the sweetness, and the burst of tangy berries. It was perfect.
Handing a snack to each Pokémon, Austin watched as their faces lit up with joy. For a moment, he allowed himself to enjoy this small victory.
Cross the bridge when you come to it, he reminded himself. Focus on what’s right in front of you. Talk to Professor Oak, sort out your budget, train, get through those books. Michael and Wes can handle Team Cipher if they become a problem.
Right now, he had his own journey to figure out.
Austin glanced at his Pokémon, still happily munching on their snacks, and felt a sense of peace wash over him.
For now, this was enough.
Austin settled into the communication room, the hum of vintage 90s computers filling the quiet space. The beige, bulky monitors were encased in small partitioned walls, offering a semblance of privacy. The soft glow of the screen was almost calming, but his nerves had other ideas. His leg bounced under the desk as he muttered, “Okay, you got this,” before powering up the computer and dialing the number.
The ringing seemed to stretch forever, each chime amplifying the anxious rhythm of his heartbeat.
Finally, a voice crackled through the speakers.
“Hello, this is the Ketchum residence.”
It was her, but the video feed hadn’t activated yet.
Austin swallowed hard, the guilt settling heavy in his chest. “Hello, Mom?” The word felt foreign, like it didn’t belong to him.
There was a cry of joy on the other end, loud and filled with unfiltered excitement. He winced at the sudden noise as Delia’s face appeared on the screen, her smile warm and radiant.
“Hi, honey! Is everything okay?”
Her image came into focus, and Austin blinked, his thoughts stalling. Delia was curling dumbbells—big, 50-pound dumbbells. Her toned arms flexed with each movement, her expression focused. For a moment, he didn’t know how to process it.
“Where are you, Ash?” she asked, her voice snapping him out of his daze.
“The Pokémon Center in Viridian City,” he replied automatically, still processing what he was seeing. Was this her? The sweet, gentle Delia from the show? Or is this world just trying to surprise me in every way possible?
“You’re already in Viridian City?” Her tone shifted to something proud, impressed even. “It took your father four days to get there when he started Pokémon training. Oh, he’ll be so proud. You’re the apple of his eye.”
Father.
The word hit Austin harder than expected, like a punch he wasn’t ready for. A lump formed in his throat. Ash’s dad—a mystery my whole childhood—and now here I am, standing in his shoes.
“Is there a way for me to talk to him?” he blurted, the words escaping before he could think them through. They hung in the air, heavy with years of curiosity he hadn’t realized he was carrying.
Delia’s smile faltered, just slightly, and her tone became practiced, like this wasn’t the first time she’d had to answer this question. “Sorry, honey, you know how busy he is.”
There was something beneath her words, something unspoken, but Austin didn’t push. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
“Well, next time you talk to Dad, tell him I’m doing alright,” he said, his voice betraying the weight of his emotions.
“Ash, I’m proud of you,” Delia said, her eyes soft and brimming with love. “And I want you to know your father is proud of you too.”
Austin looked away, his chest tightening with emotions he wasn’t prepared to face. This is too much. Too real.
“Hmm,” he murmured, barely audible, his voice a whisper of acknowledgment.
He needed an exit. Fast.
“I have to call Professor Oak,” he said, his words tumbling out quickly, almost tripping over themselves. “I shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
“I love you,” she said, her tone warm and genuine.
The words hit harder than he’d anticipated. Hearing them—so full of unconditional love—even though he wasn’t truly her son, made his chest ache.
“Me too,” he mumbled, his voice cracking as he ended the call.
The screen went dark, leaving Austin sitting in silence. It was deafening, the weight of the moment pressing down on him as he stared at the blank monitor.
This world, these connections—they’re becoming more real with every passing moment.
And he was right in the middle of it all, struggling to navigate his unexpected journey, trying to piece together who he was in a world where everyone already seemed to know him.
“Ring, ring, ring.”
“Hello there.”
“Ah! My boy. How is your journey going?”
“Who is this?”
“Don’t you recognize me?”
Austin bit back a laugh as he stared at the screen, the camera showing only the back of Professor Oak’s head. “I would if I wasn’t looking at the back of your head,” he quipped, watching as the professor fumbled with the setup. Oak’s sudden scramble to adjust the camera had him stifling a chuckle until he finally turned around, looking a bit sheepish.
“Looks like you made it to Viridian City,” Oak noted, trying to regain his composure, though a faint blush crept across his cheeks.
“Yeah, I was curious why you called the Pokémon Center?”
“I was checking to see your progress since I am your sponsor,” Professor Oak explained, his tone taking on a serious edge.
Austin’s eyebrows shot up. Sponsor? That was news to him. He felt a twinge of anxiety, like he’d missed a critical piece of the puzzle. What else don’t I know about this world?
“And I had my doubts that you’d be able to handle your Pikachu,” Oak continued, “but when my grandson said you wouldn’t have a new Pokémon by the time you got to Viridian City, I bet him 1,000 Pokédollars that he’d be wrong.”
A grin spread across Austin’s face. “You won that bet,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “I caught two Pokémon—Rattata and Spearow.”
Professor Oak’s laughter filled the room, easing some of Austin’s tension. “Well done! A Spearow?” Oak’s expression shifted to concern, the amusement fading. “That Pokémon is hard for new trainers to handle.”
“We’ll see.”
“Confidence, that’s good to see,” Oak said, smiling again. There was a warmth in his voice that made Austin feel like maybe he wasn’t doing so badly after all.
“Professor, I had a few questions on my mind. Do you mind answering them?”
“Ask away,” Oak encouraged, leaning forward, his eyes keen and focused.
“Can Pokémon use more than four moves?”
“Of course. Why do you ask?” Oak tilted his head, clearly curious about the question.
“Well, I saw this Pokémon match, and they only used four moves,” Austin said, leaning back. He needed to know the rules here, to figure out what was real and what was just part of the show.
“That’s because the Pokémon League rules limit each Pokémon to four moves during official battles, making the matches more strategic,” Professor Oak explained. Austin nodded, filing that information away.
“Any other questions?”
“Uh, yeah.” Austin hesitated, then pushed on. “When you say you’re my sponsor, what does that mean exactly?”
Professor Oak chuckled, shaking his head. “You weren’t paying attention during the lecture, were you?”
Austin forced a nervous laugh, feeling like he’d just been called out in class.
“Okay, being a sponsored trainer is pretty straightforward. I give you access to the Oak Lab’s ranch, and the League provides you with a monthly stipend of 10,000 Pokédollars to use as you see fit,” Oak explained.
Austin’s jaw dropped.
“Ten thousand Pokédollars?”
He couldn’t believe it. That was more money than he’d ever seen, let alone had to spend. He knew being a trainer was expensive, but still…
“But what’s the catch?” Austin asked, trying to keep his voice steady. There had to be a catch. Nothing was ever this easy.
“The catch is that you’re considered an active trainer who operates on my behalf and represents me in official tournaments while conducting your own adventures. Essentially, you get paid to battle and bring prestige to the lab. The better you perform, the more substantial the grants I receive from the League, and the bigger your stipend becomes,” Oak continued.
“So I’m like a walking advertisement for the Oak Lab?”
“Something like that,” Oak said, smiling. “But it’s more about supporting young trainers and advancing Pokémon research.”
Austin paused, letting it all sink in.
“But what if someone doesn’t want to battle?” The question slipped out before he could stop himself.
“You, of all people, don’t want to battle?” Professor Oak raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.
“No, no, no,” Austin backtracked quickly. “It’s just that I recently found out how expensive it is to be a trainer, plus I plan to catch a lot of Pokémon, so a big stipend would be really helpful.” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling like he was exposing too much of his hand.
Professor Oak laughed, the sound easing some of Austin’s tension. “Wow, I didn’t expect you to start changing in just a day. The Ash of yesterday wouldn’t have even bothered with this stuff.”
Austin pursed his lips.
“The League’s stipend can primarily be increased through your contributions to lab research or through gaining prestige in battles. However, that’s not something you need to concern yourself with immediately. Managing six Pokémon with the 10K Pokédollars monthly stipend should be quite feasible. If you find yourself catching more Pokémon than you can comfortably manage, you can always send the extras to the ranch,” Oak said.
Austin nodded, trying to process everything. This was… a lot.
But one thing still bugged him.
“Wouldn’t sending my extra Pokémon to the ranch affect your finances?”
Professor Oak paused, looking momentarily taken aback. “Oh, you don’t know.”
“Know what?”
“The ranch generates revenue by selling by-products from Pokémon. For example, we store Pikachu’s electricity in batteries; Tauros’s fur can be harvested and sold; Miltank provides Moomoo Milk, and so forth,” Oak explained, and suddenly, a lot of things started clicking into place.
“Professor Oak, I’ve read that many people need a second job alongside being a low-level trainer. Why don’t more people get into this ranch business?”
“That’s because trainers aren’t exactly paid in cash; the ranch simply takes care of your Pokémon in exchange for the ownership of these by-products,” Oak clarified.
“Okay, last question,” Austin said, trying to keep his thoughts from spiraling too much. “You mentioned a 10K stipend.”
“Yes?”
“So, where’s my money?”
“In your bank account.”
Austin blinked, feeling a bit stunned. Why the hell does a ten-year-old have a bank account?
