If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, Silas would never have believed that the smiling, kind-looking old lady in front of him was none other than Elite Four mber Agatha.
After all, at most official League events or whenever she appeared in public, Agatha was always dressed in her signature purple-and-white robe, leaning on her cane, with a perpetually grim expression.
The impression she gave off was that she was never satisfied with anything.
It might have been a little rude to think this way, but as the Ghost-type Elite Four of Kanto, Agatha was widely regarded as difficult to deal with.
Perhaps it had sothing to do with the fact that most of her Pokémon were either Ghost-type or Poison-type.
Many believed that a Trainer's personality and the kind of Pokémon they raised influenced each other.
A ticulous, calculating Trainer usually wouldn't have reckless, brawler-type Pokémon. And hot-blooded, impulsive Trainers rarely had Pokémon that specialized in trickery and cunning.
Poison-types and Ghost-types simply didn't give people the most pleasant impression.
And Agatha—supposedly the "Ghost-type" master but in reality closer to a Poison-type master—was often described as ruthless and harsh.
"Co on, let's go draw lots." Yezo nudged Silas in the shoulder. "What are you daydreaming about?"
"Ah, yeah, sorry. Just… there aren't any spectators?" Silas asked, looking around at the empty venue.
"Nope. Why would we need an audience for a family tournant? My parents and all the uncles and aunts couldn't care less about this stuff."
Yezo shrugged. "This is more like a little gathering where we juniors bring our friends to et Grandma. She's usually too busy to see us often."
"That does make it pretty important," Silas nodded in agreent. "So… how long does she usually chat with everyone?"
He glanced toward Agatha, surrounded by more than a dozen younger family mbers.
Yezo scratched his cheek. "Shouldn't take too long. Last ti it was only about an hour."
Silas stared at him, baffled.
"Hey, she's an old lady. You've got to be patient," Yezo said with a sheepish grin.
The two of them obediently waited off to the side. Five others stood nearby in similar fashion.
"Seriously, couldn't those guys hurry it up?"
It was Daisuke—the cousin they'd run into yesterday afternoon—idly polishing his nails with an annoyed tone, quite different from the playful manner he had shown before.
"Eh, let them have their turn. They don't get to see Grandma often," another man said with a cheerful smile. He was dressed smartly and bore eyes that reminded Silas of Brock's.
So it wasn't just my imagination yesterday, Silas thought quietly to himself. In families like this, of course there are cliques and circles of closeness.
"This must be Silas, right? I heard my teacher ntion you before," said yet another man, older than Yezo but bearing a strong resemblance to him—likely a brother.
"Huh? Big brother, you know Silas?" Yezo asked, surprised.
"Not exactly. My teacher ntioned him in passing. Let introduce myself: I'm Chisato Oniba. I studied under Master Diaz."
He smiled warmly.
Silas finally understood. "Oh, you're a student of Elder Fukuro! Nice to et you, Chisato."
So that was why. He had wondered why, as an ordinary nobody, everyone seed to have heard of him.
"Wait—Silas Alaric?" the sharp-dressed man with Brock-like eyes suddenly perked up. He hadn't paid much attention at first, but now he stepped closer.
"You're the one who discovered Leafeon, right? Then I definitely want to get to know you. I'm Jirō Oniba, a devout believer in Grass-types."
Silas had to admit—he had accomplished so big things after all.
Ugh, the troubles of fa.
"So, how exactly does Leafeon evolve? Have the conclusions of your paper been published yet? Professor Oak's lab only released its appearance and your na as the discoverer. I can't wait to raise one myself!
What are its strengths? Speed? Attack? It looks like both are solid…"
Jirō's calm, composed deanor instantly transford into a barrage of frantic questions.
"Uh, the evolution still seems related to unstable genetic factors. Data shows that when so Eevee are near a Moss Rock, the surrounding magnetic field changes significantly.
I've already submitted my paper to Professor Oak—it should be published soon.
As for its abilities, it seems to excel at defense. Offense is decent too," Silas explained, a little overwheld by Jirō's sudden enthusiasm.
"Oh, defense! That doesn't quite match its appearance. But that ans I could maybe…" Jirō muttered, lost in thought.
Silas frantically shot a look at Yezo, silently begging for help.
"Alright, Jirō, shouldn't you be spending ti with your girlfriend? Can't you see she's already mad?" Yezo said with a stifled laugh as he gently pushed his cousin away.
"Haha, my younger brothers can be a little much sotis. Don't take it personally," Daisuke chuckled behind his hand, looking almost flamboyant.
In no ti, the group of them had grown familiar with each other. Each of them specialized in different types—Daisuke favored Water, Jirō was dedicated to Grass, and Chisato studied Psychic.
As for Elder Fukuro—Diaz, also known as the "Vampire"—he was one of the rare Trainers rumored to train both Psychic and Ghost-types in the sa team.
Silas had learned this from Professor Rowan. The reason Elder Fukuro had appeared aboard the S.S. Anne was to protect Rowan himself.
His strength was undeniable.
One way or another, everyone here seed to connect back to Silas. Daisuke's teacher was Jasmine, Brock's mother. Jirō's girlfriend was a senior apprentice of Yukino.
As they say, exceptional people are often drawn to each other.
Soon, the group in front dispersed, each pairing off with their partners to prepare for the matches.
"You brat, you just picked a random partner again this year? You should be setting an example for your younger siblings," Agatha said with a smile, chiding Daisuke.
"Heh, I'll leave that to them. No need to steal the spotlight," Daisuke replied, reverting to his respectful deanor before his elder.
"And you, Chisato—Diaz told your team dynamics have been poor lately. You'd better pay more attention.
And you, Jirō—is this Natsuko? Why didn't you bring her to see sooner…?"
Grandma Agatha rambled on, chatting about family matters in a warm, almost nagging way—nothing like the stern, formidable figure she presented in public.
Then, her gaze shifted to Silas.
"Hmph. You must be the one that old fool Oak has taken a shine to. Not bad. But let warn you—don't end up like him, abandoning everything just to bury yourself in research."
Her tone was calm, almost casual, but when she ntioned Professor Oak, there was a faint grit to her teeth.
Silas only responded with a polite smile. The last thing he wanted was to get dragged into the grudges and entanglents of the older generation.
Her conversation with them was brief—after they finished drawing lots, she waved them off to prepare.
"Co on, co on, hurry up! Open it—let's see which group we're in," Yezo urged as Silas unfolded the slip of paper.
In his own words, he wasn't suited for "gas of probability."
"Tch, what's the rush?" Silas shot him a glance and slowly opened the paper.
—A bye.
"Nice! You're lucky today!" Yezo exclaid, slapping Silas on the back.
"One in five chance. Not bad," Silas replied casually.
The reason it was one in five was because they had drawn their lot late. The first six groups hadn't reacted much, probably because none of them got byes.
They sat at the sidelines and began watching the other matches.
"So we'll only face one of those six teams, right? Chisato and the others don't really care?" Silas asked.
"Pretty much. Chisato's partner is a researcher—not much of a battler. Jirō's girlfriend? Forget it—her only Pokémon is an Ivysaur, not even Elite-level.
As for Daisuke, he's just here to ss around. After this year, he won't even need to participate anymore," Yezo explained.
The real reason he had pulled Silas into this was simple—last year had been his first ti participating, and he hadn't managed to qualify.
It could be excused as inexperience then. But if he failed again this year, people would start talking behind his back.
He hadn't expected, though, that his eldest brother and Jirō would both follow Daisuke's example this year. A careless miscalculation.
The two of them watched the battles idly.
"…Tell I'm not imagining this, but they look weaker than those two bodyguard guys from yesterday," Silas finally blurted out.
And he wasn't wrong. The matches didn't look intense at all.
Especially Chisato and Jirō—each had partnered with soone clearly dragging them down, yet they were still effortlessly overwhelming their opponents.
Even Daisuke, who was clearly just fooling around, still had the raw strength to crush the other team quickly with the help of so random bodyguard partner.
"At this rate, you didn't even need . With your strength, you could've just done what Daisuke did—grab a random partner," Silas said with a dry laugh.
"Yeah… who knew it would turn out like this," Yezo muttered helplessly.
"Geh-heh~"
"No—you don't know," ca a sudden, eerie voice.
A Gengar had appeared out of nowhere, and Silas nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Relax. Our family's famous for Ghost-types. Seeing a Gengar here is perfectly normal," Yezo said calmly. "There are at least five or six Ghost Pokémon lurking around here right now. Keep cool."
"Kyahaha~"
The Gengar cackled, clearly delighted at how much it had startled Silas.
Before long, the results of the draw were announced.
Their opponent was Daisuke.
And why was that lucky? Because the mont the brackets were revealed, Daisuke declared his forfeit—he'd only entered for fun.
Silas almost choked on his own breath. They'd spent all of yesterday afternoon training together, only for this?
He shot a look at Yezo. Seriously?
Yezo could only give a bitter smile. He had honestly prepared seriously, naively believing his older brothers would take the competition seriously too.
But who could've guessed—those who fought tooth-and-nail for the top three last year suddenly turned laid-back this year.
Chisato and Jirō both ended up against the other teams. They went through the motions, "struggling" just enough before conveniently losing.
And so, an unusually "grand" family tournant ca to a rather anticlimactic end.
"Alright, let's go, let's go—ti to eat. We'll head straight to the ruins this afternoon," Yezo said.
.....
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