On the first day of their senior year, it was the first ti students were allowed to bring their Pokémon to school.
Inevitably, the air was thick with comparison, flexing, and even challenges for battles.
Given this electric atmosphere, the school knew that no student would actually have their head in their books.
Consequently, the first day had zero traditional academic classes.
Instead, it was reserved for the horoom teacher to brief the students on their final year's objectives.
First, there were the traditional academic subjects.
Even in a world dominated by Pokémon, STEM subjects remained the absolute priority.
Their weight in the college entrance exams was still massive; if your Math or Physics scores didn't hit the benchmark, no amount of battle skill would get you into a top-tier university.
Unless you were so god-tier that you won a high-profile official tournant, proving your potential far eclipsed your peers.
In that case, elite universities would scramble to recruit you regardless of your grades.
But if you didn't have that absolute confidence, you'd better not slack on your studies.
Otherwise, you'd be the one living with a lifeti of regret.
To ensure students actually paid attention, bringing Pokémon into the classroom during academic lectures was strictly forbidden.
You either had to recall them into their Poké Balls or leave them with the campus "Pokémon Caretakers."
Of course, these were the absolute basics that the students already knew by heart.
What Teacher Liu was about to say next, however, was the real at of the briefing.
"For those of you with aspirations of becoming professional Trainers, listen closely. This concerns whether or not you can access the cultivation resources provided by the school," Teacher Liu emphasized with a serious tone.
The students perked up, realizing the real talk was finally starting.
Teacher Liu continued: "Although our City No. 1 High is a key provincial school, our resources aren't infinite. They aren't enough for everyone. Therefore, if you want more, you have to earn 'Credits' yourselves."
"First, let's talk about the Credit System. Every single resource within the school can only be redeed with Credits via the campus network. There are many ways to earn them, but for you, the simplest is through your ranking in final exams. Whether it's the academic portion or the battle assessnts, those at the top of the class will rake in a massive amount of Credits. So, do not slack on your core subjects." Teacher Liu hamred ho the point again.
"Also, as you all know, everyone who passes the Basic Trainer Certification is granted one free Move Tutor session for a move with a base power not exceeding 65. You can save this opportunity and later redeem it for a 75-power move by spending additional Credits."
"However, if anyone is in a rush to acquire a new move, I personally recomnd multi-strike moves, like Fury Cutter or Icicle Spear. While their single-hit damage is low, if they land multiple tis, their total output can surpass even major ta moves. They offer fantastic value for the cost."
"Of course, if you're considering non-damaging status moves, you can consult . I'll be available for the rest of the day." Teacher Liu gave a very standardized explanation, but she didn't forget to genuinely share her own hard-earned experience with her students.
To many veteran Pokémon players, a teacher recomnding high-RNG moves like Icicle Spear might seem malicious.
After all, anyone who's used those moves knows they are designed to either screw over your opponent or—more likely—screw over yourself.
Depending on how much the God of RNG hates you, most of the ti you're just trolling yourself.
Giving such advice to students? Isn't that just leading them into a trap?
As a "dignified educator," where was her professional ethics?!
But is that actually the case in reality?
Through the lens of a video ga, without items like a Loaded Dice or specific Abilities, multi-strike moves are a total coin flip.
But in the real world, it's not about luck—it's about proficiency and skill.
If your skill is trash, you won't land a single hit. But if you're a master, hitting all five tis is entirely possible.
Once you can stabilize hitting three or four tis, the total power eclipses most main-line offensive moves.
A move that can be considered a "main-line" strike usually has a power around 80, right?
The school wouldn't teach moves of that caliber for free. Online, just a single instructional video for a move like that costs tens of thousands, with zero guarantee that you'll actually master it.
How could a child from an average family afford those prices?
What happens if they spend their family's hard-earned savings and ultimately fail to learn the move? The blow to their confidence and their family's stability would be catastrophic.
Now look at it again: Is it more ethical for a teacher to suggest a multi-strike move that can beco a powerhouse through pure sweat and training?
Or is it better to let them gamble their life savings on high-power moves with massive tuition fees and no guarantee of success?
If you're broke and you aren't willing to work yourself to the bone, you have no business being a Trainer in the first place!
...
In short, Teacher Liu did her absolute best to guide her students, answering every question without reservation. For a mont, the teacher-student bond felt unprecedentedly harmonious.
In the entire class, only Lorze and Xue Yi stood out as being completely detached from the group.
It couldn't be helped. Whether it was the school's Credit System or the pathetic 65-power move, Lorze couldn't care less.
What was she thinking? 65 power? Unless it has a broken secondary effect, even a stray dog wouldn't use it... cough.
However, the Credit System itself wasn't bad. You earned Credits by participating in school activities and competitions. Those who perford well in Sports Day or inter-school leagues would find themselves swimming in Credits.
Furthermore, every month, the school held inter-class battles. The top-ranking classes received bonus Class Credits, cranking the collective motivation to the max.
Back when Lorze was broke, dominating the campus Credit leaderboard would have been his absolute priority.
But after seeing the Snowhide Corporation's private vault, comparing it to the rewards on the school network was like comparing a five-star buffet to a trash can.
The gap was astronomical. Why the hell would he work for those scraps?
Credits were best left for the people who actually needed them. He blad Snowhide's aggressive investnt for making his high school life feel so boring and unchallenging~. It was almost frustrating!
Hehe~!
"Lorze, co out here for a second." Teacher Liu, perhaps sensing his boredom, called him over after answering another student's question.
As the winner of the Torchic Challenger Tournant, and having displayed terrifying talent, the school obviously wasn't going to ignore him. They had already prepared a massive stockpile of resources just for him.
However, the numbers were a bit much. To avoid making the other students die of jealousy, she didn't want to announce it in the classroom. She led him out into the hall.
"What's up, Teacher Liu? Do you want to hug my Ralts too?" Lorze asked curiously as he followed her into the corridor.
"I'm not a teenage boy," Teacher Liu rolled her eyes, her tone softening. "It's about your tournant victory. The school has decided to prioritize your developnt. We're going to transfer 10,000 Credits directly to your account. You get first pick of anything in the campus rewards catalog."
How insane were 10,000 Credits?
Put it this way: historically, even the captains of the school's elite battle team could only grind out about eight or nine thousand Credits by the ti they graduated. Lorze was getting more on day one than others got in a year of hard labor. It was an absolute statent of his value.
But to her shock, Lorze just shrugged indifferently.
"Credits, huh... You should probably just leave those for the other students. I doubt I'll have a use for them."
"No use for them? What are you talking about?" Teacher Liu frowned imdiately.
The rewards in the school network were incredibly lucrative, okay?!
With enough Credits, you could redeem 80-power moves. Even if his Ralts didn't lack power, having more options to expand her coverage was a huge advantage.
Plus, there were premium Berries, held items, and even opportunities for live-combat training at partner dojos. This was a dream opportunity for most people. How could he not need it?
"To be honest, I've already signed a Researcher contract with the Snowhide Corporation. I have full access to everything in their inventory. Compared to that... the stuff in the school network is a bit... underwhelming." Lorze spread his hands helplessly.
"Uh... is that so?" Teacher Liu froze, then realization dawned on her.
Of course. A genius like Lorze wouldn't just be ignored by corporations. The Torchic Challenger Tournant was literally sponsored by Snowhide!
How could they not sink their claws into him first?
What slightly confused her was the "Researcher" part—was there a typo in the contract?
But that didn't matter. The important thing was that even the dojos the school partnered with were actually owned by Snowhide. Why would Lorze need a school voucher for sothing he already owned?
This was awkward. The school's carefully planned bribe to win his loyalty seed like absolute garbage to him.
Was she embarrassed?
You bet your ass she was.
To break the awkward silence, Teacher Liu added, "If there's anything else you specifically want, feel free to ntion it. The school is an official governnt entity, after all. We have access to certain things that even ga-corporations can't get their hands on."
Lorze's eyes lit up. That was a valid point.
"Well... could you help get a Life Orb for research purposes?"
Teacher Liu: "..."
Why don't you just ask to go catch a fucking Legendary Pokémon for you while I'm at it?!
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