"Watch out, Rex!"
Just as Rocky shouted, his right hand transformed into a blade, slicing down toward Rex's head with a faint glow of energy pulsing along his palm.
It was just another day at the All Star Fitness Club. After finishing his daily workout, Rex had jumped into a sparring session with Rocky.
Over time, Rex's combat instincts had improved by leaps and bounds. Even Rocky now found it difficult to land a clean hit unless he used actual techniques.
Of course, Rex still couldn't beat Rocky in a real fight. His primary goal in learning martial arts wasn't to dominate others—it was to protect himself. As such, Rex's fighting style leaned heavily toward defense, with very little focus on offense.
Though Rocky often teased him for lacking a fighter's spirit—"You're like an old man trapped in a teenager's body!"—Rex never took the jabs seriously.
He trained at his own pace and gradually developed a style that suited him.
From Rex's perspective, if he ever needed to go on the offensive, that's what his Pokémon were for. Their firepower far exceeded anything a human could deliver, even one with decades of training.
No matter how strong he got, he would never be able to match the power of truly elite Pokémon.
To Rex, the purpose of martial arts was to make himself less of a liability in dangerous situations. In the wild, it's often the trainer—not the Pokémon—that's the weak point.
Dark syndicates, violent wild Pokémon—none of them followed League rules. They didn't care about the fair play of sanctioned battles. To them, taking out the trainer was a viable path to victory.
So Rex's goal was simple: to become the kind of trainer who wouldn't go down easily. Someone who could fight back, maybe even turn the tide of battle on his own.
Just imagine the look on a villain's face when they tried to ambush him, only for Rex to unleash an instant Brick Break to the chest—now that was a satisfying thought.
It was during one such daydream that Rocky's glowing chop descended toward him. Rex snapped back to reality just in time.
He crossed his arms to block, channeling Fighting-type energy along his limbs to boost his defense.
The strike landed with a jarring crack. It felt like his arms had been smashed by a sledgehammer, and the force sent him flying.
Fortunately, Rex managed to stabilize midair and land on his feet. But his arms were momentarily numb and useless.
If not for the energy reinforcement, he was certain they would've broken on impact.
"Rocky, seriously? Did you have to go full power?" Rex said with a wry smile, shaking out his numb limbs.
"Oh, spare me," Rocky scoffed. "If I didn't go all out, you wouldn't even feel it."
Truth be told, Rocky was deeply frustrated. Rex's progress was staggering—it made all his own years of hard work feel like a joke.
Sure, Rex still couldn't beat him, but the gap was closing fast. His only remaining edge was that he could reliably use Brick Break in real combat.
If Rex reached that level too, Rocky would need to seriously level up—or risk losing his top dog status.
Recently, Rex had poured most of his time into mastering Brick Break. With Machamp as a patient, hands-on tutor, his proficiency had skyrocketed.
What once took him several minutes to charge now required less than thirty seconds.
Still, that wasn't enough. In its current form, the move wasn't viable in battle.
To truly use it mid-fight, Rex needed to activate and release the technique with a single thought—no long charge-up time, no extended focus.
Unlike Pokémon, whose bodies naturally channeled elemental energy, human Fighters had to grind for every inch of mastery.
When Rex asked Rocky how to break through the current bottleneck, the answer was simple: relentless repetition.
Do it enough times, and one day your body would remember the path—like a muscle reflex. From then on, it would be instant.
Some people got there faster. Others never did.
Rex didn't think he was a natural. If not for the healing effects of his Life Energy, he'd still be an ordinary student training to become a Fighter.
After wrapping up his spar with Rocky, Rex wandered the club halls to stretch and cool down.
"Watch out!"
A sudden shout pulled him out of his thoughts.
He turned toward the voice just in time to see a massive stone sphere hurtling down from above.
Rex's heart leapt into his throat. That thing would split his skull wide open—and not even Life Energy would save him in time.
Without thinking, Rex's body moved on its own. Fighting energy surged through him. He raised one hand—and unleashed a perfect Brick Break.
BOOM!
The boulder exploded midair, shattered into a dozen pieces.
"Phew…"
Rex collapsed backward onto the floor, panting hard. His core energy had been completely drained.
But deep inside, a wave of exhilaration surged through him.
In that moment of crisis, he had unleashed an instinctive, instantaneous Brick Break.
And it felt good.
This was what it meant to surpass human limits.
For the first time, Rex truly felt like he had crossed the line into something greater than ordinary.