Miles's voice echoed through the microphone, ringing out in the dim, dilapidated woodshed that reeked of pungent, fermenting grass. His tone was decisive, carrying an unquestionable authority as if he were a peerless commander inspecting a massive army. Even though the "army" he was about to inspect was nothing more than a horde of Bug-types with a combat power of practically zero.
"O-okay, Master!" the chubby boy on the other side of the screen gulped hard. He gripped his phone tightly, his knuckles turning white from a mix of nervousness and excitement. Following Miles's instructions, he took a deep breath, steadied his arm, and used the phone's flashlight to conduct a slow, methodical sweep over the sea of bugs that made the woodshed look like a spider's lair.
Squeak... Crunch, crunch...
As the camera slowly panned, the retinas of the thousands of viewers in the livestream were subjected to an unprecedented, cruel trial. The screen was filled to the brim with plump, green, wriggling soft bodies.
Some were spitting sticky white String Shots at each other to fight over a rotting cabbage leaf; others hung lazily from the roof beams, the red Y-shaped antennae on their heads twitching and emitting a faint, nauseating stench.
Sitting in front of his computer monitor, Miles leaned forward, his eyes locked onto the feed. To the average viewer, this was just a pile of bugs guaranteed to trigger trypophobia. But on Miles's retinas, an unimaginable data explosion was taking place.
Countless translucent blue data panels cascaded across his vision like a waterfall of code from a sci-fi movie, refreshing and flashing at a terrifying speed! Every single Caterpie swept up in the camera's view had its genetic lineage, current IVs, and hidden Nature defects completely stripped bare by the System in a fraction of a second.
"No good! This one's IVs are too low. Its HP potential is only in the single digits; it'd drop dead on the spot if a Pidgey pecked it! Next!"
"Next! Trash! It's one thing to have a Timid Nature, but its Ability is actually crippled. It doesn't even have the most basic Shield Dust protection. Pure dead weight! Next!"
"Pan to the top right! Stop! ...No, that won't work either. This one looks big, but it's all for show. It has severe congenital indigestion in its genetic code. No matter how much it eats, it'll never evolve into a Metapod! Keep scanning!"
"This one's even more ridiculous! It doesn't even know Tackle, only String Shot? What, do you expect it to tie its opponents up into a mummy? Eliminated!"
Miles's mouth was like a motorized machine gun, firing off words at an astonishing speed. His gaze, acting as the most precise X-ray scanner, frantically sifted through the dense sea of bugs. One second!
Two seconds!
Three seconds!
Practically every time the camera panned over a small section, Miles would gun down a dozen seemingly plump and healthy Caterpies in the blink of an eye. His decisive, no-nonsense appraisal speed left the thousands of viewers in the chat completely dumbfounded.
After all, traditional Pokémon appraisal was an extremely rigorous and time-consuming craft. Even white-bearded senior experts with advanced certifications who had spent most of their lives in the industry needed various complex, precision instruments.
Combined with drawing blood, feeling bones, and testing move reactions, the entire process took at least ten days to half a month. Even taking a massive step back and just doing the most basic visual assessment, those so-called masters would still need three to five minutes with a magnifying glass to scrutinize the most common Caterpie before daring to stroke their beards and offer an ambiguous evaluation.
But now? The young streamer on the screen was treating them like barcodes at a supermarket checkout!
"Beep—Trash!"
"Beep—Dead weight!"
"Beep—Eliminated!"
This light-speed appraisal method completely overturned the common sense of Pokémon Appraisal. After a brief period of stunned silence, the viewers exploded into a tsunami of live chat comments.
[Viewer "Drinking Late": Bro... my eyes can't even keep up with his talking speed! Is he appraising Pokémon or playing Candy Crush?!]
[Viewer "Outlaw John Doe": Ridiculous! This is off the goddamn charts! Seeing through the hidden Natures of five Caterpies in one second? Even with titanium dog eyes, he wouldn't be this fast!]
[Viewer "Wild Electabuzz": I seriously suspect the streamer is scripting this! This is just him spouting nonsense and giving blind directions! Who appraises like this? Does he think he's an X-ray machine?!]
[Viewer "Keyboard Holmes": Chat, let's analyze this rationally. I think the streamer is taking the act a bit too far. Even if he's a genius, this speed completely defies scientific logic. Is he just making excuses to brush them off?]
[Viewer "Here for the Drama": LMAO! A moment ago, I thought the Master was cooking, but looking at it now, he's just farming for content! If he can really see it that fast, I'll swallow my keyboard raw right here!]
[Viewer "Goji Berries in a Thermos": Alas, young people are just too impatient. Appraisal requires taking your time. With him just skimming the surface like this, what if he misses a top-tier variant? What a waste!]
[Viewer "Little Deer ": Stop capping! When the Master looked at that Psychic-type Ponyta earlier, he saw its worth in a single glance! W Streamer! If he dares to scan like this, it means he has the skills! Go Master! I believe in you!]
[Viewer "Manager Ruby": ...Little Miles's method is indeed a bit too shocking. Although I'm willing to believe him, this efficiency... makes it very hard not to be suspicious.]
Facing the screen full of surging doubts, ridicule, and even accusations, Miles didn't even blink, much less distract himself by arguing with the chat.
A fine layer of sweat had already begun to seep from his forehead. Even with the System's absolute support, this prolonged, high-frequency, large-scale information processing and data filtering was a massive drain on his mental energy. His brain was like a supercomputer running at maximum capacity; due to the overload, he could even feel his temples throbbing.
But he couldn't stop. Since he had promised that frail girl—who had desperately protected her younger brother even in despair—he had to keep his word!
He was going to sift through this woodshed, seen by worldly prejudice as a garbage dump, and pan out a piece of true gold capable of defying fate!
"Keep going! Don't stop! A little faster! Sweep toward the roof beam on the right!" he commanded.
Meanwhile, at the city's Pokémon Protection Bureau, Officer Barrett had just finished a public legal awareness seminar on 'How to Identify Fake Online Pokémon Appraisal Scams.' Holding a freshly brewed cup of strong tea, he clicked into Miles's livestream on a whim, wanting to see what this folk prodigy—who had given him such a huge surprise earlier—was up to now.
The moment he entered, he spat a mouthful of scalding tea right onto his computer monitor.
"Cough, cough, cough... Has this kid lost his mind?!" Officer Barrett's eyes went wide. Watching Miles's light-speed appraisal method clear the screen like the autumn wind sweeping away fallen leaves, the expression on his face was richer than if he'd just seen a ghost.
Just moments ago in his seminar, he had solemnly and confidently instructed the netizens: 'True appraisal masters always take their time; anyone in a livestream who dares to draw a conclusion with just one glance is ten thousand percent a scammer!'
And the result? The Master Miles he had just praised—and was even preparing to recruit into the Bureau as a special consultant—turned around and performed a stunt of 'sentencing five Pokémon in one second' right in front of thousands of people. This wasn't just a slap in the face; this was rubbing his face directly into the dirt!
"Old Barrett, this... this expert you recommended seems to have a slightly unhinged approach, doesn't he?" A few nearby officers watching the stream exchanged awkward glances.
"Ahem... well..." Officer Barrett's seasoned face flushed red as he forcibly tried to save face. "They say experts reside among the people, hiding in plain sight. Comrade Miles is, after all, a god-like talent who can see through Galarian regional variants. He... he definitely has unique techniques that ordinary people like us can't comprehend!"
"Right, exactly! Let's keep watching, keep watching..." Even as he said this, Officer Barrett's heart was drumming nervously. If this kid botched this performance today, he would truly become the laughingstock of the livestreaming world.
Back on the livestream feed, time ticked by, second by second. Ten minutes passed. Under this high-intensity scanning, the chubby boy's hands, still holding the phone, had begun to ache and tremble uncontrollably. Through the lens, he had practically swept through more than half the woodshed with zero blind spots. Hundreds of Caterpies had been handed a death sentence by Miles's piercing gaze.
The frail girl standing behind the boy, whose eyes had initially been full of hope, watched her expectations gradually dim with every merciless "Eliminated," "Next," and "Trash" declaration Miles handed down. Her shoulders slumped slightly, and tears welled up in her eyes once more.
'Sure enough... miracles didn't exist. This half-sack of Caterpies her father had randomly caught and brought back was just a pile of mud in the end. How could they possibly pick out some peerless genius from it? Her dream of becoming a Trainer was, ultimately, nothing but a laughable fantasy.'
"M-Master..." Seeing his sister's look of despair, the chubby boy's heart ached. He panted heavily, his arm so sore he could barely lift it.
Unwilling to give up, yet pleading all the same, he spoke into the phone's microphone. "We've pretty much swept the whole woodshed... Is there really nothing good? How about... how about you take a rest first? In a couple of days, when my dad isn't paying attention, I'll sneak out to the back mountain and catch a new batch for you to look over?"
Hearing the boy's defeated words, the live chat was instantly filled with sighs.
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