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As Roy stroked the happy and excited Primeape, preparing to praise it, a system voice sounded in his ear.
[Ding! Congratulations to the host for completing the Primeape's hidden achievement: Unleash a full-power Rage Fist!]
[Achievement Reward: Annihilape Evolution Plan—Use a full-power Rage Fist twenty times when HP is below fifty percent.
Technical Machine—Endure: After use, retain at least 1% of HP before being unable to battle when hit by any attack. Success rate decreases with consecutive use.]
Roy looked at the translucent system panel in front of him, his grin nearly reaching his ears.
Oh, there's even a hidden reward.
This is a huge profit!
He had been wondering how to make Primeape evolve into Annihilape.
He had browsed countless posts on forums and checked numerous documents in the database, but they were all vague; not a single one explained it clearly.
Some said it needed more fighting, some said the rage meter had to be maxed out, some said it needed a special item, and others said it would evolve automatically after reaching a certain level.
There were all sorts of opinions, a total mess.
Roy was already mentally prepared to spend half a year or a year figuring it out.
And the result?
Just by competing in the P1 Tournament, he easily triggered a hidden achievement, and the system shoved the correct answer right in his face.
"Not bad, not bad," Roy thought happily to himself. "Competing in this P1 Tournament has already proven to be more than worth it."
He carefully studied the evolution plan.
When HP is below fifty percent, use a full-power Rage Fist twenty times.
Three conditions.
First, HP below fifty percent. That's simple enough.
Second, a full-power Rage Fist. Like the one used against Hitmonchan just now—a punch where the power surges to 350% after stacking six hits.
Third, twenty times. Not a lot, but not a few either.
Roy quickly calculated in his head; considering the three conditions together, evolving into Annihilape was still quite complicated.
In a formal battle, to stack a full-power Rage Fist, one must take six hits first.
Six hits.
Those six hits are no joke; the opponent isn't a punching bag—every punch hits home, and every move is lethal.
After taking six hits, HP would likely be mostly gone; throwing a punch then would decide the match in one go.
In other words, you can stack full power at most once per battle.
Twenty times means at least twenty tough battles.
And you have to take six hits every time, pushing yourself to the limit in every match.
"It is indeed complicated," Roy rubbed his chin and clicked his tongue.
No wonder those researchers took so long to figure out the evolution pattern.
There's a lot of trickery involved.
In real combat, like grinding mobs in the wild, you could indeed stack it slowly and only punch at six layers.
The problem is that wild Pokemon generally have low combat power and levels; hitting Primeape is like scratching an itch, and they can't even get its HP down to half.
If HP doesn't drop below fifty percent, it doesn't matter how many layers you stack.
Condition one isn't met.
And what about formal battles?
Basically, unless there's a safety net, who would dare play like this?
They'd punch as soon as they reach two or three layers, fearing an accident or being counter-killed by the opponent.
After all, Pokemon battles are ever-changing; taking one extra hit could mean getting knocked out instantly.
Unless there's a safety net, no one would dare joke around with their Pokemon and the match.
Oh, speaking of safety nets...
Roy's eyes lit up as he looked down at the second reward on the system panel.
Technical Machine—Endure.
After use, retain at least 1% of HP before being unable to battle when hit by any attack.
Success rate decreases with consecutive use.
Isn't this the ultimate safety net skill?
Roy's mind raced.
It means that when Primeape is about to be knocked out, using Endure once ensures it will stay standing with at least 1% HP, no matter what ultimate move the opponent uses next.
1%.
Just one breath left, yet still standing.
Isn't this skill tailor-made for Rage Fist?
Take hits to stack layers, use Endure when near death, keep taking hits, keep stacking, and once it hits six layers, blast them with a punch.
A perfect loop!
The more Roy thought about it, the more excited he became.
Endure isn't a skill Primeape can learn through its regular moveset.
This thing requires a special genetic talent or extremely complex special training to master.
A normal Trainer wanting their Primeape to master this skill would have to find a special training method and spend a lot of time practicing, and even then, the success rate isn't guaranteed.
It would probably cost a lot of resources and take several months to train.
But difficulty is for the general public.
As for Roy...
Sorry, but I'm going to cheat.
Without hesitation, he pulled up the system panel, clicked on the Technical Machine, and navigated directly to Primeape's panel.
[Teach Primeape the move: Endure?]
[Yes/No]
Roy tapped "Yes" firmly.
A pale golden light shot out from the system panel, enveloping Primeape.
Primeape was stunned for a moment, its body trembling slightly as if receiving an infusion of information.
A few seconds later, the light dissipated.
Primeape looked down at its hands, a flash of realization in its eyes.
It looked up at Roy and grinned.
Roy smiled too and patted its head.
Primeape scratched its head, looking very proud.
Roy had just finished adjusting Primeape's panel and hadn't even had time to continue studying the evolution plan when a sudden rush of footsteps came from behind.
Then, two soft masses pressed directly against his back.
"Roy! You won! You won!"
Misty's voice was sharp and crisp; she jumped onto Roy's back like a koala, her arms tightly around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist.
Roy was knocked forward a step by the sudden impact; he quickly reached back to support Misty's legs and steady himself.
"You little rascal, take it easy..."
Misty didn't listen at all, bouncing and jumping on his back—though she couldn't really jump while hanging on him, her excitement was palpable through his clothes.
The muscles on Roy's back could clearly feel Misty, and he even noticed some key points...
Misty was wearing a thin short-sleeved shirt today, and clearly didn't have much on underneath.
Pressing against him like this was no different from direct skin contact.
"Misty... get down first..."
"No!" Misty hugged him tighter, her face pressed against Roy's shoulder as she shouted, "You're so amazing! One punch! You sent him flying with just one punch! Did you see that? The whole crowd went wild!"
She said, squirming a bit.
Roy took a deep breath, the thought flashing through his mind that he had completely carried Misty along with him.
While Misty and Roy were fooling around, Delia and Aimi also walked over.
Delia walked in front with a gentle smile, her pace steady.
Aimi followed beside Delia, her hands clasped together, her expression somewhat complex—she was happy, but there seemed to be something else.
She watched Misty hanging on Roy's back, her eyes flickering as she pursed her lips slightly.
Delia approached, looked at Misty hanging on Roy's back, and shook her head with a smile.
"Misty, come down. Roy needs to rest."
"I don't want to!" Misty rubbed against him coquettishly. "I want to hang onto him!"
Delia gave Roy a helpless look, as if saying, "You deal with it."
Roy was about to say something when he caught a glimpse of a figure walking toward them.
Anthony.
He had been standing there clutching his head and twitching earlier, but now he had suddenly stopped.
He looked like he had figured something out; his eyes shifted from vacant to clear.
But that clarity was a bit off.
It wasn't the clarity of self-reflection after failure, but the kind... of having found an excuse and made up a story for himself.
He even had a faint smile on his lips.
It wasn't his previous arrogant laugh, but a smile that suggested he thought he had seen through everything.
Roy muttered to himself: This old geezer, he hasn't been driven crazy by the beating, has he?
Aimi also saw her father approaching.
She felt a surge of joy.
Father is coming over... has he finally understood? Is he going to admit defeat?
Is he finally returning to the family and taking responsibility?
After all, that punch was so clean and decisive, such an overwhelming victory; any normal person would be convinced, right?
Although Father is stubborn, he isn't unreasonable...
Aimi took a deep breath, gathered her courage, and stepped forward, preparing to persuade her father to come home.
She opened her mouth and called out, "Father..."
Her voice wasn't loud, carrying a hint of cautious probing and a daughter's concern for her father.
However, Anthony didn't even give her a glance.
He frowned and raised his hand as if shooing a fly, impatiently pushing her aside.
"Out of the way."
That push was quite forceful, hitting Aimi directly on the shoulder.
Aimi never expected her father to treat her like this; she stumbled and fell backward.
Aimi's hands flailed in the air, catching nothing, as she was about to hit the ground.
Fortunately, Delia was quick. She stepped forward and caught Aimi by the waist.
"Careful."
Delia's voice was gentle yet firm, her arm steady as she supported Aimi and helped her stand upright.
After Aimi steadied herself, her face was pale, and her eyes instantly turned red.
She looked at her father's broad back, her lips trembling, unable to say a word.
Delia gently patted Aimi's back. She didn't speak, but a hint of coldness appeared in her eyes.
She looked at Anthony's back and frowned slightly.
Anthony paid no attention to what was happening behind him.
He might not even have realized he had pushed Aimi.
Or rather, he pushed her and didn't care.
All his attention was on Roy.
No, more accurately, on Primeape.
He approached Roy with a grin, his expression completely different from before.
Before, it was the arrogance of "I am the strongest."
Now, it had turned into a... pleasing, fawning smile.
"Aiya, Brother Roy, well fought, well fought." Anthony rubbed his hands together, his eyes fixed on Primeape. "You really fought well."
Roy looked at him and gave a polite nod. "Thank you for the compliment."
Anthony leaned in closer, his eyes still glued to Primeape.
"I'm telling you, little brother, this Primeape of yours is truly extraordinary."
He raised an index finger and wagged it in front of Roy.
"I've been fighting my whole life; do you know how many Fighting-type Pokemon I've seen? Countless."
"But one like your Primeape is one in ten thousand."
"Truly one in ten thousand!"
When he said "one in ten thousand," his voice rose as if he were announcing a grand discovery.
Roy didn't respond, just watched him.
Anthony licked his lips and continued.
"You know, most Primeape are just brutes. They only know how to charge and fight, with no technical skill whatsoever."
"But yours is different."
"It doesn't just have power; it has talent. That fighting instinct, that grasp of timing, that ability to build power while taking hits."
He grew more excited as he spoke, starting to gesture with his hands.
"This is a natural-born fighting genius! A once-in-a-century fighting genius!"
Primeape stood beside Roy, tilting its head at Anthony with a hint of confusion: Is there another fight to be had?
Anthony leaned in another step, now only half a meter from Roy.
He lowered his voice, his tone carrying an intimacy like he was sharing a secret.
"Little brother, once the P1 Tournament is over, give your Primeape to me."
Roy: "..."
The air suddenly went silent.
Misty was still hanging on Roy's back; she was stunned when she heard this.
Her mouth fell open, her face saying, "I must have misheard that."
Delia narrowed her eyes slightly, the smile on her lips fading.
Aimi also looked at her father in disbelief.
Anthony didn't notice the reactions of those around him at all, or rather, he simply didn't care.
He continued, his tone becoming increasingly excited.
"I have superb fighting techniques! I've studied fighting for so many years; the things I've summarized are more than anyone else's!"
"Your Primeape is a one-in-a-thousand fighting genius. If I train it, it will surely become a Fighting Champion in the future!"
"Really! Believe me!"
He patted his chest, looking like he was doing it for Roy's own good.
"You're just a rookie fighter; you have no idea how to train Fighting-type Pokemon. Keeping it in your hands is a waste of a god-given gift! It's wasting its talent!"
"But I'm different! I have experience! I have technique! I have training methods!"
"I can bring out all of its potential in the shortest amount of time!"
"Give it to me; only I can unleash its full potential."
After he finished, he looked expectantly at Primeape, his eyes glowing as if he were about to carry it away the next second.
Roy laughed outright upon hearing this.
It wasn't a polite smile, but the kind that said, "Are you freaking kidding me?"
Of course, he knew that in the original plot Anthony would come to ask for Primeape, but knowing it was one thing; encountering it face-to-face made it hard not to laugh.
An opponent who had just been defeated by him.
A middle-aged geezer who had been punched into a twitching mess.
He ran up to him and had the nerve to say he should give him his Pokemon.
And even claimed, "I can train it better."
Absurd.
Truly too absurd.
It was so absurd that Roy didn't know what to say for a moment; he just stood there with a half-smile, looking at Anthony's face which was plastered with a "this is for your own good" expression.