Nozomi's legend was gradually spreading among Pokémon trainers, though he remained completely unaware of it.
At this moment, he stood before a forest, raising his hand to shoo away a Pidgey swooping down, trying to snatch the sweet citrus fruit in his grasp. Nozomi's eyes swept across the surroundings.
"This place feels strangely familiar."
There was an inexplicable sense of déjà vu about the scenery, as if he had been here before.
But he himself had never visited this place—so it had to be that his previous self had once been here.
He lifted his gaze to the faint outlines of a building halfway up the mountainside.
"That seems to be the Pokémon Technical Institute."
Nozomi murmured, recalling fragments of his predecessor's memories.
He knew of the Pokémon Tech.
In the original story, it was an elite school for the aristocracy, adhering to a survival-of-the-fittest approach in education. Ash and his friends had accidentally wandered into the Institute, leading to a series of conflicts with its students.
What fascinated Nozomi, however, was that his predecessor had once been a student at this very Pokémon school.
As he sifted carefully through these memories, Nozomi's expression grew increasingly peculiar.
"What on earth is going on?"
A person's memory was immense. Even though Nozomi had previously spent a long time skimming through his predecessor's memories, it had only been a rough overview.
Now, delving into the predecessor's experiences at the Pokémon Tech, Nozomi realized that those days had been far from pleasant.
His predecessor had attended the Institute for a time but, being a transfer student, struggled to keep up with the curriculum. He consistently ranked at the very bottom and frequently endured subtle, cruel treatment from others.
Trash would be thrown under his desk, Pokémon used in training battles were deliberately injured, and he was constantly mocked and belittled.
At a normal school, such things could be reported to teachers. But the Pokémon Institute, almost aristocratic in nature, allowed such behaviors to continue as long as they didn't escalate to outright fighting. Teachers turned a blind eye, leaving students to handle matters themselves.
As a result, the Institute's atmosphere had twisted. Some students, proud of their strength, even invented "discipline of love"—a perverse method that formalized and justified bullying weaker classmates.
Unable to endure this pressure, Nozomi's predecessor eventually withdrew and enrolled in the Pokémon Prosecutor Academy, where he discovered his natural talent for Pokémon prosecution.
"…."
Even the Pokémon world had school bullying? Nozomi felt a flash of irritation.
He had assumed his predecessor's enemies were limited to the superior who had pinned the blame on him in the prosecutor department—but now this revelation emerged.
Though these experiences were not his own, having now inherited this body, Nozomi felt compelled to retaliate against the unfair treatment his predecessor had suffered.
He had been in a good mood today—but all of that was ruined by these unpleasant memories.
He was irritated—and on matters of injustice, Nozomi never let himself suffer in silence.
He gazed up at the Pokémon Tech partially shrouded in mist on the mountainside.
Touching his chin, a faint, cold smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Students of the Pokémon Tech? Nozomi is back!"
Speaking, he set off along the path remembered from his predecessor's memories, stepping into the fog.
"Practical battle class is now over. Students, please return to your classrooms with your Pokémon immediately."
Standing before the Institute gates, Nozomi arrived just as the battle class concluded.
Clusters of students in uniform suits were walking toward the classroom buildings in small groups.
Seeing Nozomi approaching, curious expressions appeared on their faces.
The Pokémon Tech was located deep in the mountains, extremely remote, and strictly managed. Coupled with the presence of many wild Pokémon in the area, few outsiders ever visited.
Yet today, someone had come—and he appeared to be a boy their age.
As the students whispered among themselves, a figure emerged from the back.
He looked sixteen or seventeen, with golden hair and black eyes, clad in the Pokémon Tech's uniform. His brows were furrowed, and his gaze at Nozomi carried an air of arrogance.
"This is the Pokémon Tech. Unauthorized personnel, do not approach!"
He stepped in front of the gates, speaking directly to Nozomi.
Nozomi studied him carefully and recognized him—one of the very bullies who had tormented his predecessor at the Institute.
"I am no unauthorized person."
Nozomi replied, looking straight at him.
"Hm?" The blonde boy frowned and studied Nozomi, then seemed to realize something. "You're Nozomi? You've returned?"
He continued, eyes scanning him with a condescending tilt. "Couldn't survive outside, so you've come back to study again?"
Listening to the boy's self-important words, Nozomi shook his head. His sharp gaze met the boy's, and as a chill ran through the bully's body, he spoke:
"No. I'm here to challenge the Institute."