Pokémon: Sandstorm Sovereign

Chapter 31: You're Making Me Stressed!

"What the hell! I'm such a degenerate. How can I get distracted during training? Why am I thinking about such random nonsense?"

Basalt slapped himself and shook his head to clear out the stray thoughts.

Ms. Anya, respect!

Basalt: (ω′)ゞ`

"Chari~"

After rubbing for ten minutes, Drilbur suddenly stopped, staring blankly at its own claws. It could clearly feel a certain pure energy from the Metal Coating beginning to seep into its claws and body, nourishing and strengthening its physical functions. This energy felt wondrous; it seemed to be a good match for it, but also not a perfect match.

In addition, with the intense friction, the excess cuticles on Drilbur's claws were constantly sloughing off, and a new, harder, and sharper layer was slowly forming.

The little mole was getting excited. This feeling of getting stronger at a visible rate was just too good. Its claws were its weapons, not only for attacking but also its primary tool for digging. If its claws became sharper, its digging speed would also increase, bringing it one step closer to learning the move "Dig."

Rub left, rub right!

Rub up, rub down!

Drilbur was starting to get addicted. It rubbed itself frantically. However, as the harsh, grating sound grew louder, both Basalt and Coach Miles couldn't help but frown slightly. The sound was truly piercing and gave them goosebumps.

"I just hope it doesn't learn Screech before it learns Metal Claw," Basalt muttered to himself, covering his ears.

This continued for half an hour. Drilbur's training foreplay was finally over, and the official Scratch training began.

SLASH!

Drilbur gathered its strength and burst forward, lashing out with its claw. It instantly left a faint mark on the metal target, which wobbled slightly.

This was where Coach Miles's skill as a star coach was demonstrated. After observing Drilbur a few times, he immediately pointed out several minor errors in the little mole's form and power exertion techniques. Although these flaws weren't fatal, correcting them would make Drilbur's move execution much smoother.

When Coach Miles explained, he wasn't just talking to Drilbur; he was mostly guiding Basalt, because Basalt was the trainer. Teaching Drilbur was giving a man a fish, but teaching Basalt was teaching a man how to fish.

"Mhm, mhm, I understand!" Basalt quickly took out his small notebook to jot it down. He understood the principle that "the palest ink is better than the best memory." After all, when it came to getting stronger, he was serious.

After training the move Scratch, they also did special training for Mud-Slap, Sand Tomb, and Rock Tomb. Two hours passed just like that.

"Alright, let's call it a day," Coach Miles said in a timely manner, seeing that Drilbur had reached its limit.

A continuous two-hour training session—never mind a Novice-level Pokémon, even a Junior-level Pokémon might not be able to endure it. But throughout the entire process, Drilbur hadn't once cried out in exhaustion, gritting its teeth and persevering.

Because of this, Coach Miles's opinion of Basalt rose even higher. He felt more and more that this kid's future was limitless and decided to go with the flow and form a good relationship.

…

"Basalt, 특训 finished? You must be tired. Here, have some water!"

As soon as Basalt walked out of the training room, Frank came jogging up to him with a bottle of mineral water, a fawning smile on his face.

This action from Frank gave Basalt a huge shock. He looked at Frank, then at the water in his hand, getting the distinct feeling that this was a wolf in sheep's clothing with no good intentions.

Basalt was stunned for a long moment before asking tentatively, "Did you… spit in this water?"

Spit in it?

The corner of Frank's mouth twitched noticeably.

Frank: "#￥%*&#￥..."

Although a lot of un-broadcastable words were going through his mind, Frank suppressed his anger and quickly pleaded his innocence. "Basalt, I swear on my life! Am I really that despicable in your eyes? Would I do something so low-life?"

"Hey, no emotional blackmail!"

Basalt still felt that something was off. He preemptively took a step back to create some distance. Honestly, he felt that Frank was the kind of person who would do something so despicable.

Seeing this, Frank knew that Basalt still harbored a deep distrust of him. To win his trust and prove that he hadn't tampered with the mineral water, he had no choice but to twist open the cap himself and take a big gulp.

"Basalt, the water is really fine!" Frank pointed to the bottle in his hand and blinked, looking aggrieved.

"Umm…"

Basalt didn't know what to say. It seemed the water was indeed fine now, but since you've already drunk from it, why would I drink the rest?

"I appreciate the thought, but I'm in a hurry to get home. Let's talk next time."

Basalt was a bit baffled. He couldn't figure out why Frank's attitude had taken a 180-degree turn. The main thing was that his attentiveness was too sudden, and he found it a little hard to accept.

"It couldn't be that I unknowingly released my 'aura of a hegemon,' right?" Basalt laughed at himself. But to be safe, it was always better to make a strategic retreat.

"Basalt, do you want my driver to give you a ride? It's not safe for you to ride your bike this late at night…"

Watching Basalt flee the club as if escaping, not giving him any chance to mend their relationship, Frank felt a headache coming on.

"Three feet of ice is not formed in a single cold day. It seems I'll have to work much harder to resolve the rift between me and Basalt." Frank psyched himself up, preparing to use "love" to resolve this feud. If it really came down to it, he was even willing to hand over "Chloe" to Basalt.

Because the more Frank thought about it, the more he felt that Basalt's background was not simple. First, the Drilbur was clearly from an overseas connection. Second, getting Coach Miles to be his private coach was not something an ordinary person could do. Even if you pulled strings, you would need at least a Professional-level trainer or someone of equivalent status to persuade Coach Miles, who was also a Professional-level trainer.

Although his family was wealthy, they were not a trainer family. So, despite their wealth, their status in the small county was not high. His father was counting on him to become a Professional-level trainer in the future to elevate their family's status, crossing over from the merchant class to the trainer class. At the end of the day, strength was everything.

Finally, there was Basalt's own strength and potential. Frank had witnessed the power of his Drilbur firsthand; it absolutely could not be underestimated.

…

Back home, after a quick dinner, Basalt went to take a shower first. Although it was Drilbur who was training, as its trainer, the pressure on him was also significant.

"Huh? Where's the little mole?"

Basalt came out of the bathroom with a robe on, drying his hair, only to find that Drilbur was gone.

"Chari~"

Suddenly, he heard Drilbur's cry from outside the window.

"That little guy… he's not giving himself extra training again, is he?"

Basalt thought of a possibility. Drilbur had a "prior conviction" for giving itself extra training. A few days ago, Basalt had gotten up to use the toilet and, on a whim, went to check on the little mole in its sand bed downstairs, only to find it missing. It had scared him half to death. A few minutes later, a filthy Drilbur had snuck back in. When asked, he found out it had gone for extra training.

Thinking of this, Basalt quickly opened the window and stuck his head out.

In the open space not far away, Drilbur was using Rapid Spin, working hard to improve its skill proficiency.

"I knew it!" Basalt sighed to himself.

You don't even have to be a tiger parent, and the kid is already this hardworking. As a trainer, Basalt felt that if he just lay in bed playing on his phone, he would probably be struck by lightning.

"Little mole, you're so diligent, you're putting a lot of pressure on me!"

Basalt rubbed his temples and finally chose to put on his clothes and head towards the open space.