Pokémon: Gacha Master of Destiny

The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the open training field just outside the Pokémon Center. Elliot had been looking for a good battle—something to shake off the lingering tension from the Beedrill encounter and push Deino's training forward.

That's when he found William.

The kid sat on a bench, lazily munching on a sandwich, a battered Charmander sitting beside him. The orange lizard Pokémon had clear bruises, a few faint burns on its arms, and a dull glint in its blue eyes.

Elliot's jaw clenched. He'd seen enough street fights to recognize the signs. This Charmander wasn't properly trained—it was just thrown into battle after battle with no care.

Still, he wanted a fight.

"Hey," Elliot called out, hands in his pockets. "Up for a battle?"

William glanced at him, sizing him up. "Yeah, sure. Easy cash."

Elliot narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything. They stepped onto the field, the dirt shifting beneath their feet as the battle began.

The moment the referee called for the fight to start, William immediately barked out orders.

"Charmander, Ember! Scratch! No Ember!

Elliot's frown deepened.

No planning. No thought. Just desperate, mindless commands.

"Deino, Dodge left—Dark Pulse."

The small dragon twisted its body, effortlessly slipping past Charmander's sluggish attacks before launching a concentrated Dark Pulse, sending the lizard tumbling across the field.

William gritted his teeth, frustration flashing across his face. "Charmander, get up! Keep using Scratch!"

Elliot almost sighed. This kid didn't learn. He just threw commands out blindly, hoping something would stick.

Deino dodged again, barely breaking a sweat. A single Dragon Breath later, Charmander collapsed, unconscious.

The match was over in less than thirty seconds.

William just stood there, his fists clenched at his sides, his face carefully neutral. But Elliot caught the way his eyes flickered toward his defeated Charmander—not with concern, but with blame.

Elliot exhaled sharply, feeling the heat rise in his chest.

"...I'm done," Elliot muttered, shaking his head. "This was a waste of time."

Without another word, he turned away.

As he walked off, Elliot pulled out an old phone from his pocket. It wasn't his—he'd taken it off a dead orphan, a kid who had failed to catch a Pokémon and died in the wild.

He didn't know why he still kept it. Maybe out of respect, maybe out of necessity.

Quickly, he snapped a picture of William and his beaten Charmander, capturing the moment.

Something told him he'd need it in the future.

With that done, he shoved the phone back into his pocket and headed back toward the Pokémon Center.

He had no time to waste on trainers who refused to learn.