Pokémon Contests—competitions dedicated to showcasing the beauty and charm of Pokémon.
Different from ordinary battles, their process focuses more on the evaluation of a Pokémon's appearance, moves, and presentation.
Trainers who specialize in participating in Contests even have a unique title: Coordinators.
It is not only about a Pokémon coordinating its own abilities, but also about the coordination between human and Pokémon.
Coordinators are not necessarily skilled in traditional battling—but that doesn't mean they aren't strong.
Pokémon Contests are divided into two rounds of judging. The second round is called the Contest Battle Round.
The difficulty is by no means lower than a standard battle.
For Trainers like Silas, whose main goal in a battle is to defeat the opponent as quickly and decisively as possible, the odds of earning a placing in a Contest are slim.
In fact, it's more likely they wouldn't even pass the first round—the Appeal Stage, which focuses on appearance and performance.
In Contest Battles, both sides must fight while maintaining elegance. Victory is not only judged by whether a Pokémon can continue fighting, but also by another special measure: points.
If a Pokémon is struck, makes a mistake in executing a move, or if the opponent's Pokémon uses a particularly dazzling combination or cleverly capitalizes on one's own moves, points are deducted.
On a Contest stage, it's common to see two Pokémon unleash moves at the same time without damaging one another, yet one side still loses points.
The reason? Their move failed to highlight their own Pokémon's appeal, and instead made the opponent appear more cool, beautiful, or cute.
According to Silas's own commanding style, if he were to imagine himself in a Contest, he'd probably fall into the "lose points every time I use a move" category.
After five moves, his score would be gone.
Of course, Silas has never truly participated in a Contest, so this assumption isn't correct.
A Pokémon's strength is always one factor in its appeal.
If five minutes of the Contest Battle pass and neither side has been knocked out, or neither side has lost all points, then the Coordinator with more remaining points is declared the winner.
Though it might look simple or even strange, Contest Battles actually contain a lot of depth.
Strong Coordinators are no weaker than ordinary Trainers.
In fact, because of their mastery of move control and special techniques, they may even be stronger. The best example: Wallace.
As the current Sootopolis Gym Leader in the Hoenn region, Wallace is also one of the world's top Coordinators.
Known as the "Water Prince," the "Artist Who Loves Water," and even the "Contest Master," these are not just fan-given titles—they are widely recognized by all.
Most importantly, Silas knew that Wallace had not even reached the peak of his career yet.
In a few years, when Hoenn's current Champion Steven Stone devotes himself entirely to studying stones and steps back from official duties, Wallace will take on the Champion's title and position—"gifted" by his friend.
But even if it seems like a handover, if Wallace wasn't strong enough, he could never hold that seat.
No one who becomes a regional Champion is weak.
Steven has even publicly praised his friend and rival more than once, calling Wallace one of the few opponents who truly interests him.
If someone as stone-obsessed as Steven Stone can say this, Wallace's strength speaks for itself.
Silas made it his mission to collect every publicly available or semi-public battle recording of powerful Trainers, hoping to absorb knowledge and learn from their command style.
Coordinators and their Pokémon's creative move usage during Contests are especially worth studying. The dazzling derived applications are countless.
Naturally, Wallace's performances were included—something Silas would never skip.
This time, the video he showed his little partner was from the Hoenn Grand Festival, where Wallace and his ace Milotic performed during one of the Appeal Rounds.
In the footage, Milotic's scales shimmered with rainbow light under the sun. Simply standing there, it embodied the title of the "most beautiful Pokémon."
As the camera angle shifted, different colors danced across Milotic's form, dazzling Silas and Servine alike.
Though Silas had seen it before, he couldn't help but sigh once more: to develop Milotic's natural beauty to such heights was nothing short of incredible.
Servine's jaw dropped, eyes glazed over in awe.
It was the first time it had ever seen such a majestic Pokémon. If a recording was already this stunning, how overwhelming would the real thing be?
And this was only the beginning.
Milotic swayed its long body, shadows flickering. Suddenly, four identical Milotic appeared at the cardinal directions—Double Team.
But rather than simply multiplying, each illusion moved gracefully, indistinguishable from the original.
Then, fine streams of water gathered in the air, coating each Milotic's body with a gleaming veil.
Gradually, that water film slid down, concentrating around their gorgeous tails.
In the next instant, tails sliced through the waves, sunlight refracting through the ripples.
Layer upon layer of water rings spread outward, each at a different height and moving at a different speed, perfectly controlled.
Just as the audience's eyes were locked onto the ripples, the four illusions vanished.
Everyone searched eagerly for the real Milotic.
And then—at the exact moment when the four water rings overlapped—the real Milotic emerged within them.
Its slender, elegant body unfurled, framed in perfect harmony by light, water, and motion.
Then, everything froze.
Ice crystals spread outward from both the rings and Milotic's body, in an instant transforming the entire scene into a glittering ice sculpture.
"Snap."
Wallace snapped his fingers—precisely timed with the sound of the ice shattering.
Shards flew everywhere, scattering sunlight into a radiant brilliance.
When the audience finally blinked, Milotic was once again standing gracefully as it had at the beginning, as if nothing had happened.
One phrase could describe it: absolutely breathtaking.
"How about it?" Silas asked eagerly the moment the video ended. "Properly using Double Team—and eventually Substitute—only enhances your appeal."
"Ser-vine…"
Servine's attitude clearly shifted.
Though it felt its Trainer's logic was a little questionable, Milotic had looked unbelievably cool just now.
It too longed for the day when its own moves would earn wild cheers from the crowd.
Seeing its resolve softening, Silas didn't relent—he queued up a second, third, and fourth video.
Like humans, Pokémon often just need more reasons to convince themselves.
Half an hour later…
Watching Servine and Boldore train with renewed energy, Silas let out a long sigh of relief.
Though, he couldn't help but feel a little helpless.
Now, within the range of Grassy Terrain, Servine had already split into five convincing Double Team clones to mark Gigalith's Earth Power.
This was a huge improvement from before today, when it could only manage one or two—three at most on a good attempt.
While the clones didn't have the hyper-realistic quality of the Milotic he'd seen in the video, they were still difficult to distinguish at a glance.
That meant they were at least usable in battle.
If Silas hadn't spent so much time persuading Servine earlier, he would have suspected that his Pokémon had been pretending all along.
But that wasn't strange at all.
A Pokémon's own mindset and will had a huge impact on whether or not they could master a move.
It was just like people: when learning something you're interested in, you pick it up quickly. If you're not interested, no matter how much it's explained, it just doesn't sink in.
If Servine subconsciously resisted learning Double Team from the beginning, then no matter how perfect its energy control or body movements seemed, it still wouldn't meet the intended standard.
In fact, for Servine to have achieved this much despite its resistance was, in Silas's opinion, proof of remarkable talent.
It only showed how difficult being a Trainer really was.
Not only did he have to monitor his Pokémon's physical condition, create proper training plans, and prepare nutritious meals, but he also had to serve as their emotional counselor.
Pokémon might be simple in thought, but they still had their own minds.
And it wasn't just about learning moves—there were all kinds of little issues: losing or winning too many battles in a row, shedding fur, failed courtship attempts, wanting to slack off once in a while, and so on.
These were all problems Trainers had to handle in daily life.
No wonder Trainers were always mentally and physically exhausted.
Standing outside the Grassy Terrain, Silas held both a laptop and a pen and paper, carefully recording the details of the training.
First attempt: Gigalith's three Earth Powers had the following problems—
Energy positioning was too close to the ground, which increased power and area but made them too easy to detect.
Delay timings were predictable: the three Earth Powers erupted one after another in sequence, lacking surprise.
Poor fluidity; movements were stiff.
Obvious telegraphing beforehand.
Servine's issues:
Uneven Grassy Terrain energy distribution—sections two, seven, and nine were too thin.
Slow perception of Ground-type energy; reaction speed decreased by 15%, exceeding the acceptable 10% margin.
Vine Whip use was decent, but its strength control regressed slightly after advancing to the mid-level. Completion progress around 95%.
Second attempt: Gigalith's three Earth Powers—problems as follows: …
Servine's issues: …
Third attempt: …
Silas jotted everything down quickly. To anyone else, his writing looked like complete nonsense.
For training notes like these, he always wrote in simplified Chinese.
After all, no one else in this world could read it. To him, it was a small way of remembering his previous life.
He couldn't just let it fade away in memory.
If anyone asked, he could simply claim it was a special code he developed for training records.
In fact, most Trainers—especially from large families—did the same thing. It was like the coded signals or Morse code used in espionage. Without personal teaching, they were impossible to understand.
And compared to some, his wasn't even that extreme.
Some families even changed the meanings of their codes every few years just to keep them secret.
"Alright, stop for now. Let's talk about the issues."
Silas called a halt after the fifth training cycle. Five rounds were a full set; anything more would overly drain the two Pokémon's energy.
"First, Gigalith."
He pulled out a small whiteboard and quickly sketched a few diagrams.
Silas's little classroom session was about to begin.
The only problem was that the "students" were a bit oversized.
Gigalith obediently sat down in front of him.
"Look here—your first three Earth Powers were controlled very well. Each energy point maintained a consistent depth.
But they were too shallow. And besides, you didn't vary either the timing or placement enough."
Gigalith rumbled in confusion. It could understand "too shallow"—digging deeper would fix that.
But the other two problems? What did he mean by patterns?
"That brings us to another question—why do you use Earth Power in the first place?
In battle, the goal is to force the opponent into a corner and restrict their movement.
For example—if we place Earth Power on the opponent's right side, their instinct will be to dodge left to avoid the damage.
That gives us the chance to predict and respond."
Silas drew a simple diagram, showing the placement of the move and the enemy's movement path.
If you imagined the Earth Power's blast radius as a circle centered on the eruption point, its area of effect was limited.
As long as the opposing Pokémon was within that circle, unless it was right at the center, its best option was always to move directly away from the origin point—that was the fastest escape.
A simple math problem, really.
"When you're using Earth Power, you need to make a clear choice—do you want the opponent to notice it, or not?
If you let them notice, you can guide their movements into our trap. If you hide it, you maximize direct damage.
In these two cases, the depth of the energy source makes all the difference."
Silas explained patiently, his voice flowing.
He didn't like telling his Pokémon exactly how to use their moves from the start. Instead, he preferred to let them use the move naturally, then correct mistakes and point out new ideas—just like in battle.
Because it was always the Pokémon fighting on the field, not the Trainer.
He couldn't exactly shout across the battlefield, "My Pokémon will bury a trap three meters deep, one meter to the right of yours!"
That would be absurd.
These things could only be corrected through trust, synergy, and endless daily training.
Battles changed in an instant, and a Trainer couldn't micromanage every detail.
At best, he could give short, subtle commands.
Bond was one part of it; habit was another.
"Now, you, Servine. Your main issue is energy usage…"
After finishing with Gigalith, Silas immediately turned to Servine.
The silver moon hung high—time was short.
Fortunately, compared to Gigalith, Servine's problems were mostly about proficiency, which made things easier.
By 11 p.m., Silas finally returned to his room.
"Huh? You've fallen for Milotic?"
He stared in disbelief at Servine, who was looking up at him bashfully as if confessing.
....
Hi For access to additional chapters of
Director in Hollywood (40 chpaters)
Made In Hollywood (60 Chapters)
Pokemon:Bounty Hunter(30 Chapters)
Douluo Dalu: Reincarnated as Yan(40 Chapters)
Hollywood:From Razzie to Legend(40 Chapters)
The Great Ruler(30 Chapters)
Join pateron.com/Translaterappu