Pokémon: This Unpredictable World

Section 4: Unexpected Encounter on Route 1

I walked along Route 1, the silence of the countryside disturbed only by the rustling of leaves in the wind. The landscape was calm—almost too calm. Birds sang in the distance, and the paths seemed endless. The mountains stood far on the horizon, appearing almost unreachable.

I wasn't in a hurry. I knew I had to move forward, but the road ahead still seemed far too long. It wasn't a bad time to reflect—maybe on everything I had experienced so far. The battle against Damian, observing his reactions, but also that moment with Charmander… there was something strange about it. Something that pushed me to look beyond what was directly in front of me.

Thinking about all of this, I realized something was missing. But I was alone—or at least, that's what I thought. In the distance, a figure appeared on the road, approaching at a steady pace. He carried a certain presence, and one thing was clear: he wasn't just a casual traveler.

He stopped at a respectful distance, his gaze landing on me with an almost calculated precision. I could feel his eyes weighing on me—the kind of look one gives when they already know everything about you without having to ask a single question.

— "It's not often you meet someone here," he said in a calm, measured voice. "Are you a trainer?"

I observed him for a moment before answering. There was something in his posture, in his way of speaking, that suggested he wasn't here by chance. He didn't have that look of someone merely checking if you were a potential opponent or not. No, this guy was more calculated. And yet, there was a certain ease in his attitude, as if he wasn't in a rush to hear the answer. That kind of tranquility you find in those who know they have nothing to prove.

— "Yes, I'm a trainer," I replied simply.

He turned toward me then, his eyes fixed on the Pokéball I still held in my hand. Without a word, he let his own Pokéball drop to the ground, and a Squirtle emerged. I immediately sensed that he wasn't giving me a choice.

— "A battle then," he said, a glint of interest in his eyes. "If you're up for a little fun."

My first instinct was to prepare, but thinking it over, I knew I wasn't ready. No, I was still missing something. Bulbasaur had been defeated in the battle against Damian, and I knew I didn't have what it took to compete. But running away wasn't an option.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. I still had the Rattata I had caught earlier. But that was all. It was a start—a chance to observe, to understand what was happening here.

— "Alright, let's do this." I threw my Pokéball, letting Rattata leap into battle.

The fight began almost instantly, and in a flash, Squirtle sprang into action, dodging Rattata's first attacks with impressive ease. This guy wasn't just any trainer. He was a different kind of player.

Squirtle attacked with remarkable precision. His movements were quick and fluid, almost as if he knew exactly what I was going to do. Rattata was faster than Squirtle, but less experienced. The fight was unbalanced, but I had something in mind. I knew winning wasn't the reason I had accepted this duel.

I made a few tactical moves to wear Squirtle down, but I didn't go all the way. I knew I couldn't win—not like this. That wasn't what I was aiming for. Rattata, enthusiastic as he was, couldn't match a Squirtle this well-trained.

So, I let Rattata tire himself out. I didn't intervene when Squirtle attacked again. Rattata took a direct hit and collapsed to the ground. The battle was over.

But the defeat didn't matter to me. No, it was everything else that did. The calmness of this opponent, his precise approach, his calculating gaze. He hadn't been in a hurry, and neither had I.

The trainer in front of me recalled Squirtle, looking at him with quiet satisfaction.

— "Not bad," he said simply. "You don't lose sight of what really matters."

I hadn't responded yet. No need. This wasn't a battle for me—it was a lesson, a test, a chance to see where I stood.

He turned his gaze back to me, as if waiting for something. A word, maybe. But he didn't seem to be in a rush for an answer.

— "We'll meet again." He gave a slight smile before walking away.

I watched his back disappear into the distance. A part of me wanted to stop him, to ask questions. But I knew this wasn't the time. For now, I had to move forward.

I had seen what I needed to see. But it was too soon to understand everything. The road ahead was still long.