Chapter Twelve: Hope for Advancement with the Flame-Flame Fruit — Charmander's First Battle Reveals Its Edge

Chen Ou held the luxurious Pokéball in his hand, a smug smile spreading across his face. Inside the ball was a Charmander. He wanted to capture the little creature, but Charmander wasn’t exactly willing, so he had to resort to force. After knocking Charmander out, he simply stuffed it into the ball. Whether the fruit was sweet or not didn’t matter; at least he had it now. It might not taste sweet, but it quenched his thirst, didn’t it?

This was, in fact, the method used by most trainers. Fortunately, the nature of Pokémon included a respect for strength, and Chen Ou believed that without this, humans and Pokémon would have long since become irreconcilable enemies.

The history of coexistence between humans and Pokémon was lost to time. Chen Ou had spent years studying the legends of mythical Pokémon, but had yet to discover the origin of it all. Now, he was certainly incapable of investigating further. Without strength, there could be no reasoning. He could guarantee his survival when facing legendary Pokémon, but winning was another matter entirely...

Thinking of this, Chen Ou felt somewhat speechless. If he had to say his cheat was powerful, he couldn’t see much evidence of it; but to call it weak—it honestly wasn’t. As he mused, he snapped his fingers and conjured a small flame at his fingertip—then nearly singed his bangs.

Quickly, he transformed all his hair into fire, preventing it from burning. He stared blankly at the flame on his finger—no, at the ball of fire—quite bewildered.

Something was off. According to past experience, the strength he’d used should only have produced a spark suitable for lighting a cigarette. Why now was there a flame large enough to burn his hair?

Chen Ou wasn’t foolish; his first thought was that he’d just captured a Pokémon. Yesterday evening, he’d used his power to light a campfire, with everything functioning as usual. He quickly ruled out changes in mood or relaxation as factors. The biggest difference between then and now was having captured a Pokémon—having a Pokémon of his own.

And his fire ability had grown stronger.

He grinned. He didn’t know the principle behind this, but it was certainly a good thing. Yet not understanding the reason behind it made him uncomfortable—two simple words: unbearable.

Casting a glance at the Pokéball in his hand, he quietly put it away. Then, raising one hand to the sky, he pushed his ability to its limits.

Flames danced in the air, illuminating the dark forest. The fireball in Chen Ou’s hand surged and expanded, like a newly born beast greedily eyeing everything around it, ready to devour the forest as nourishment for its growth.

He watched as the fireball grew to the size of a tree canopy. The flames had already ignited the surrounding trees, but under his control, they did not spread. In his perception, the fire felt like wild horses about to break free, always on the verge of escaping his grasp and tearing everything apart.

Sweat beaded on Chen Ou’s forehead. He hurled the fireball skyward and detonated it.

Boom!

A thunderous explosion swept through the forest, accompanied by a scorching heat wave; grass and trees curled in its wake.

Chen Ou clicked his tongue at the scene before him.

The force of this attack was not inferior to the power of Green’s Charizard’s Blast Burn. He truly was evolving toward the path of a fire-type legendary beast.

He understood that he hadn’t yet adapted to the sudden surge in his abilities; the fireball felt out of control, but after some practice, it would be manageable. Chen Ou nodded with satisfaction. His power wasn’t yet at Ace’s level—enough to cover half an island—let alone permanently alter the environment like Kuzan or Sakazuki. But compared to his previous fireballs, barely the size of two basketballs, this was a huge improvement.

In this sense, Pokémon had become even more important to him...

He shook his head, dismissing the thought. For now, the only sure way to strengthen his abilities was to capture Pokémon; the rest would have to be tested gradually over time.

Chen Ou took out Charmander’s Pokéball again, smiling with delight at his double stroke of luck. He looked up through the gaping hole he’d burned in the forest canopy; the sun hung high overhead.

He squinted. Lunchtime was near.

He released Charmander. The little dragon stared at him, visibly unhappy—almost as if the words “You sneak-attacked me, that’s dishonorable!” were written across his face.

Seeing this, Chen Ou crossed his arms and laughed, “What, you’re not convinced?”

“Humph!” (Of course I’m not!)

Chen Ou beckoned with a crooked finger.

“Come on, then!”

Charmander paused, questioning himself: “Is this guy my master now? Not gentle, but so shameless.” Yet he didn’t dwell on it. Battle was battle; those distracted would lose!

So, with a growl, he spat thick black smoke from his mouth. Both their figures were shrouded in the smokescreen.

Chen Ou nodded, appreciating Charmander’s use of Smokescreen to cover his approach. The little dragon had some brains, using its advantage in scent and sight. But Chen Ou had no intention of moving. Charmander was weaker than the Arbok he’d encountered upon arriving in this world—nothing to fear.

He sensed the wind behind his neck.

Charmander’s claws glowed white—a Scratch attack aimed right at Chen Ou’s neck. A smug curve appeared at the corner of his mouth.

As his claws neared Chen Ou’s neck, Charmander gave a low cry.

Success!

But in the next instant, his eyes widened—his claws passed straight through Chen Ou’s neck, meeting nothing solid.

No! He’d been tricked!

Charmander reacted quickly. He’d chosen the neck to subdue Chen Ou without causing serious harm, but Chen Ou was much taller, so he’d leapt up to reach him. Now, he couldn’t evade Chen Ou’s attack.

The next moment, Charmander felt pain in his belly and was sent flying.

Chen Ou had punched him, knocking him out of the smokescreen.

“The first lesson: unless it’s a finishing blow and you can fly, don’t leap in the air. See how Groudon fought Kyogre without jumping? If you can’t fly, be realistic.”

(Groudon: Come up here and say that!)

Chen Ou’s amused voice drifted from the smokescreen.

He walked slowly in the direction Charmander had flown, soon emerging from the smoke.

But what he saw surprised him: Charmander had climbed a tall tree, perched on a branch, looking down at Chen Ou. There was a red imprint of a fist on his creamy belly.

Chen Ou frowned, unsure why Charmander had climbed so high.

Then he saw the purple energy radiating from Charmander.

He immediately understood. Charmander was summoning his draconic energy to unleash a hereditary move. With all his might, he leapt from the tree, launching a Dragon Rush straight at Chen Ou.

A grin of excitement spread across Chen Ou’s face. His whole body dispersed into flames, drifting apart.

Charmander’s Dragon Rush hit nothing but air, crashing into the ground and leaving a large crater.

Chen Ou’s form reassembled on the other side, gazing at the unconscious Charmander lying at the bottom of the pit with a smile that said, “I’ve struck gold.”