A burst of red light flashed, and a Pokémon materialized on the field. Its body was mostly black, with a red tail, silver-white claws, golden spots on its forehead and chest, and a red left ear.
It was Sneasel, the Ice and Dark dual-type Pokémon.
"So he's going with Sneasel? At least he knows something about type matchups."
Caster smiled, though he wasn't the least bit worried.
Dark-type Sneasel was immune to Psychic moves, sure. But real battles weren't like a video game — when it came down to it, raw power decided everything.
"Sneasel!"
Sneasel's eyes were sharp and fierce. It scraped its claws together, coiled tight, ready to strike.
"Sneasel, use Quick Attack!"
Sneasel was fast and hit hard. It shot across the field, weaving left and right as it closed the distance.
With Quick Attack's built-in priority on top of its already blistering speed, Sneasel became little more than a blur.
In the blink of an eye, its whole body flashed white as it slammed squarely into Slowpoke.
"Duh-nuh!"
"Ugh!"
Slowpoke took the hit and flinched. But right at that moment, it opened its mouth and fired off a Yawn bubble point-blank.
Pop!
The bubble burst right in Sneasel's face. The fierce look in its eyes went glassy almost instantly, lids drooping as a wave of drowsiness hit it like a wall. Its body swayed. Before long, a sleep bubble drifted from Sneasel's nose, and it crumpled to the ground, snoring.
Its trainer panicked. "Sneasel, come on, wake up!"
Classic — and completely useless.
That said, even with Sneasel out cold, Slowpoke wasn't in great shape either. Sneasel's attack power was no joke.
Even a move without type advantage had done real damage. And Slowpoke's attacks, while strong, weren't free. It had only thrown out a handful of moves, but its small body was already starting to show the strain.
"Slowpoke, use Slack Off!"
Caster called it quickly, deciding to use the downtime while Sneasel slept to get Slowpoke back in shape.
"Duh-nuh!"
Slowpoke nodded and promptly flopped onto the ground with a lazy stretch, looking completely unbothered.
A soft white glow wrapped around its body, and the damage from Sneasel's hit faded away. When the light cleared, Slowpoke looked fresh again, fully recharged.
Across the field, Sneasel was somehow still snoring.
"How is this even happening?"
Its trainer pressed both hands to his head, teetering on the edge of a full breakdown. Had everything he'd done been completely pointless?
"Slowpoke, use Water Pulse!"
Caster smiled and finally went on the offensive.
A pale blue sphere of energy built up in Slowpoke's mouth. It launched into the air and detonated with a deep boom, expanding into a massive wave that crashed over the still-sleeping Sneasel again and again.
"Sneasel!"
Sneasel screamed as the force of the impact jolted it awake. It was sent skidding back several meters, struggling to get its footing.
It desperately wanted to pull itself together, but its head was spinning too badly. Little cartoon stars drifted in lazy circles around it.
Confusion. Sneasel had been confused.
Normally, Water Pulse only had roughly a one-in-five chance of inflicting confusion upon contact. But Slowpoke's Water Pulse was at Mastered level. The confusion rate was far above average.
Combine that with the same-type attack bonus and the raw force behind each hit, and Slowpoke was landing confusion almost every single time.
"Finish it off with Water Gun!"
At Caster's command, Slowpoke let loose a high-pressure stream of water that launched Sneasel clean into the air.
"Sneasel!"
Sneasel crashed back down, eyes spinning.
Caster raised a hand and grinned. "Next."
Nobody could call it arrogance. Sweeping two opponents in a row with a single Slowpoke was proof enough. At this rate, going three for three wasn't out of the question.
The opposing trainer recalled Sneasel through clenched teeth, face flushed, and threw out his last Pokémon.
A flash of red light, and a new Pokémon appeared on the field. It had a huge mouth lined with four sharp fangs along both the top and bottom, a body that was mostly blue, and wings with deep purple membranes.
Golbat. Poison and Flying type.
"Golbat, use Astonish!"
The trainer still wanted the first move. But Caster had no intention of giving it to him this time.
Even before Golbat had fully materialized, Slowpoke's psychic energy had already spread outward across the surrounding area, blanketing dozens of meters in every direction.
With a single pulse of Slowpoke's focus, that force surged outward as Confusion, hammering Golbat's body and mind all at once.
"Shreeeek!"
Golbat's face twisted in pain. The move it had been charging was cut off before it could land, and its body wobbled in midair, struggling to stay airborne.
Psychic-type moves hit Poison-type Golbat for double damage. Add in Slowpoke's raw output and burst potential, and Golbat simply had no answer for it.
Golbat wanted to run. There was nowhere to go.
In the games, Psychic was a single, decisive hit. You either survived it or you didn't. But in the real world, if a Pokémon couldn't break free from a Psychic hold, it had nowhere to run and no way to fight back. Its stamina just got chipped away, bit by bit, until there was nothing left.
Psychic-type moves were just built differently in the real world.
Sure enough, Golbat eventually went limp, dropping to the ground in a heap.
"We won!"
The moment the battle ended, Slowpoke released its Confusion hold and sent a telepathic message to Caster. "That was a good fight, Trainer. I had fun out there."
Caster's mouth twitched. "Really? You're going to say that out loud?"
For a second, he genuinely couldn't tell if Slowpoke was being sincere or quietly enjoying the other trainer's misery. Fortunately, they communicated through telepathy, so nobody else could hear it. Otherwise, the guy across the field might have completely lost it.
"No way! He swept all three of Lao Xiao's Pokémon with just a Slowpoke. This guy is the real deal!"
The group of kids erupted in chatter, more than a few of them stealing admiring glances at Caster.
As for the opposing trainer, he didn't say another word about challenging Lorelei.
With that little scene wrapped up, Caster made his way to a standalone villa on the eastern side of the fourth island. Lorelei's home.
Inside, Caster settled onto the sofa in the living room, a cup of hot tea set on the table in front of him. Lorelei sat nearby, calm and composed.
"Ahem."
After a quick clearing of his throat, Caster glanced around the room and counted at least a dozen Pokémon plush dolls arranged around the space: Slowpoke, Lapras, Dewgong, and others she had caught and raised herself, alongside more common ones like Chansey, Pidgey, and Meowth.
He latched onto the obvious conversation starter. "So you're really into plushies, huh?"
"Collecting Pokémon plush figures is kind of my thing," Lorelei said with a warm smile, and she started walking him through the stories behind a few of them.
Caster listened, taking it all in. She carried herself with the quiet confidence of someone experienced, but underneath that was a personality that was genuinely relaxed and uncomplicated. Tough in battle, but no attitude about it.
The two chatted easily over tea.
Out in the courtyard sat a large pool.
The weather outside was sweltering, but the pool was a different world entirely. Cold air rolled off the surface in steady waves, thin tendrils of white mist curling upward.
Dewgong, Cloyster, and Lapras were all Ice types, and they were clearly in their element, gliding through the water with lazy, contented ease.
Slowbro, Slowking, and Jynx lingered at the edge, splashing around playfully.
Out in the open, Caster's Gyarados would have been an overwhelming presence. In this small pool, it had no choice but to sulk in a corner, quietly nursing its wounded pride.
It had come in too aggressively when it first jumped in, and Dewgong, Cloyster, and Lapras had each put it in its place, one after another.
No contest.
"Dra!"
Dratini was stretched out in the grass, soaking up the sun. It usually lived in the water, but right now it wasn't going anywhere near the pool. The cold seeping off the surface made it deeply uncomfortable.
"Duh-nuh!"
"Duh-dong!"
Slowpoke, ever sharp, was deep in conversation with Lorelei's Slowking, picking its brain on the finer points of psychic technique.