Seeing that Roy hadn't spoken, Anthony thought he was considering it. His eyes brightened even more as he took another step forward. "Little brother, think carefully. Fighting is not something you can master just by casually throwing punches..."
"No."
Before Roy could even open his mouth, Misty, who was on his back, exploded first.
She jumped straight off Roy's back, her legs landing steadily on the ground. Then, with a quick stride, she rushed in front of Anthony, tilting her head up to glare at him.
"Old man, how can you be so shameless?"
Misty's voice was crisp and loud, exploding in the arena like a firecracker.
With her hands on her hips and her body leaning slightly forward, she looked like a cat with its fur standing on end.
"The Primeape our Roy trained defeated you, and now you run over here asking for his Primeape, even saying you could train it better?"
The more she spoke, the angrier she got, her small face flushing red.
"You were defeated by Roy; what right do you have to say that?"
The Pikachu at Misty's feet also nodded along, its small paws crossed over its chest with an expression that said, "Exactly, exactly."
Eevee also flicked its tail and rubbed its small head against Misty's calf in agreement.
Although that white-furred monkey acted like a lunatic when boxing, it was actually quite good to the two little ones in their daily lives.
When traveling through the wild, Primeape would often climb trees, pick wild fruits, and toss them down for them to eat.
Sometimes the fruit was too high to reach, so Primeape would simply use its fists to pound the tree trunk until it shook, causing fruit to shower down. Then it would grin, pick them up one by one, and hand them to Pikachu and Eevee.
So, the two little ones didn't want Primeape to leave either.
Pikachu even took a step forward, crying out "Pika Pika" at Anthony while waving its small paws, as if saying: Go away, don't you dare target my Big Brother Monkey!
Anthony frowned and glanced at Misty, an impatient expression on his face.
He raised his hand and waved it as if shooing away a fly. "Ugh, you women just don't understand fighting."
"You don't understand..."
He paused, looking Misty up and down with a tone of natural contempt.
"You... you shouldn't speak."
After saying that, he turned his face directly toward Roy, completely ignoring Misty's existence.
That ignoring wasn't intentional; it was the kind of disregard that came from his very bones, believing that women simply didn't deserve a say in the matter of fighting.
Misty was choked up by those words, her mouth hanging open, unable to react for a moment.
By the time she reacted and wanted to refute him, Anthony was already treating her like thin air.
She stomped her feet in anger, her small fists clenched tight, and her cheeks puffed out like a pufferfish.
"So, how about it, Brother Roy?"
Anthony rubbed his hands together, the smile piling back onto his face as his eyes stared intently at Roy.
"Give your Primeape to me."
Roy looked at him, the smile on his face remaining, but his gaze had cooled by several degrees.
He spoke unhurriedly, his voice not loud, but every word was clear.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Anthony."
He paused, tilting his head to glance at Misty, who was stomping her feet in anger nearby.
"I don't really understand fighting either."
These words were spoken lightly, but anyone could hear the irony.
Just as Anthony was about to respond, Roy continued, defending Misty.
"However, what my girlfriend says is what I mean."
Hearing this, Misty was stunned for a moment.
Then, a surge of heat welled up from her chest, burning all the way up her neck to the tips of her ears.
Her face turned red instantly. Hearing Roy defend her so bluntly gave her a unique sense of satisfaction, different from the thrill of battling alongside him.
Misty's cheeks, which had been puffed out in anger a moment ago, softened instantly.
She pursed her lips, trying to suppress the upward curve of her mouth, but she couldn't help it at all.
The corners of her mouth felt as if they were being pulled up by something, twitching upward incessantly.
She stole a glance at Roy and then quickly looked away, her heart beating so fast it felt like it would jump out of her throat.
Comfortable.
So comfortable.
Being defended by the boy she liked in front of everyone—that feeling was sweeter than eating ten candies.
Misty couldn't help but puff out her chest, her chin tilting up slightly as she gave Anthony a heavy "Hmph."
This "Hmph" carried thirty percent smugness, thirty percent sweetness, and forty percent "Did you hear that? My boyfriend said that what I say is what he means."
Pikachu and Eevee also joined in the fun, one crying "Pika Pika" and the other humming "Eevee Eevee." The three little ones stood together, all making Sounds of disdain at Anthony.
Anthony was made a bit embarrassed by this rebuttal, and his smile froze for a split second.
But he quickly regained that "I've been through it all" expression and waved his hand.
"Ugh, Brother Roy, what do women know about fighting?"
He leaned in closer and lowered his voice, putting on an air of heart-to-heart sincerity.
"You have to have your own opinions; you can't let a woman lead you by the nose. Fighting is a man's business; they don't understand..."
"Enough, Father!"
A loud shout cut through Anthony's words like a bolt of lightning.
Aimi stood a few steps away, her body trembling slightly.
The rims of her eyes were red, as was the tip of her nose, and her lips were tightly pursed, as if she were using all her strength to hold back tears.
But she didn't cry.
She took a deep breath, her chest heaving violently, and then stepped forward.
"Father, please stop being so wrongly obsessed with fighting."
Aimi's voice was shaking, but every word was spoken with great force.
She stood before Anthony, looking up at this father who was a head taller than her.
"I thought that if Roy defeated you, you would come to your senses."
As she spoke, a hint of a sob entered her voice.
"I didn't expect you to do something as disgraceful as directly demanding someone else's Pokémon."
When the word "disgraceful" left her mouth, Aimi's own face turned red first.
It was the red of shame.
Shame for her own father.
"Please come back, Father."
Aimi's voice lowered, carrying a pleading tone.
"Mother is sick, and the Gym is about to have its certification revoked..."
Her voice grew smaller and smaller, finally sounding as if it were being squeezed out of her throat.
"I beg you, come back."
After saying this, Aimi's tears finally couldn't be held back and slid down her cheeks.
But she didn't wipe them away, staring straight at Anthony.
Anthony twisted his head, the expression on his face shifting several times.
He was silent for a while, his mouth opening and closing, then opening again.
Finally, he spoke, his voice a few degrees lower than before, but his tone still held that stubborn, refuse-to-lose obstinacy.
"I... I didn't ask you guys to look after me."
When he said this, his eyes flickered, not daring to look into Aimi's eyes.
"You're the one running the Gym; if it collapses, you should reflect on yourself."
Once these words were out, Aimi's face turned even paler.
Anthony didn't notice his daughter's expression at all, or rather, he noticed but chose to ignore it.
Instead, his tone became more excited as he spoke, as if he had found some sort of excuse.
"I'm telling you, Aimi, I've had many victories lately. I'm already about to find the secret to Pokémon fighting."
He held up an index finger and wagged it in front of Aimi, his eyes shining with an almost fanatical light.
"Losing today was mainly because that Primeape was too powerful."
He paused, glancing at Roy and then at Primeape.
"The fighting style you taught Roy is simply no match for me..."
Before he could finish this sentence, Aimi suddenly exploded.
"Father!"
Her voice was so high it almost broke, and the entire arena went silent.
Aimi's body was shaking violently, her hands clenched at her sides, her nails almost digging into her palms.
She gritted her teeth, tears falling pitter-patter from her eyes, but her gaze was more determined than ever before.
"You are simply not suited for Pokémon fighting!"
These words were like a knife, stabbing straight out.
"And you don't know how to train Pokémon either!"
The second stab.
"Those street fighters you defeated when you were young were only doing it for the money you gave them!"
The third stab.
"They saw that Grandfather was the Gym Leader, so they intentionally lost to you!"
Aimi's voice was trembling, but every word was stated clearly.
"You aren't some powerful person at all..."
Her voice suddenly softened, carrying an unspeakable sorrow.
"You're far worse than Grandfather."
When this last sentence was spoken, Aimi herself was stunned for a moment.
She had never thought that one day she would say such things to her father.
From childhood to adulthood, she had always admired her father.
Even though her father rarely came home, even though he ignored the Gym, and even though her mother carried everything alone.
She had always believed that her father was out there pursuing the pinnacle of fighting, striving to become stronger.
She had always lied to herself that her father was powerful, that he was capable, and that he just hadn't found the opportunity to prove himself yet.
But now, she didn't want to lie to herself anymore.
Anthony froze in place.
The expression on his face looked as if he had been slapped hard, or as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over him from head to toe.
His mouth was slightly open, his eyes wide, and his whole body seemed frozen.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
"Heh... hehe..."
Anthony suddenly laughed.
The laughter was light and strange, as if squeezed out of his throat, carrying an unspeakable eeriness.
"You... you're talking nonsense..."
His voice was intermittent, and the smile on his face became increasingly distorted.
"Hehehe... you don't understand... you don't understand!"
He suddenly raised his voice, his whole being seemingly ignited by something.
"What does a woman like you know about fighting!"
He pointed at Aimi, his finger trembling.
"I'm almost there! I'm almost there!"
After he finished speaking, he hurriedly fumbled a Poké Ball from his waist. With a flash of red light, he recalled Hitmonchan, who was still twitching on the ground.
Then, he turned and left.
His pace was very fast, as if he were escaping from something.
As he walked, he continued to mutter.
"I will definitely become the P1 Fighting Competition Champion... definitely... definitely..."
His back receded further and further, and his voice grew smaller and smaller.
Finally, he disappeared around the corner of the arena exit.
Aimi stood in place, looking in the direction where her father had disappeared, motionless.
Tears were still flowing, but she made no Sound.
She just stood there quietly, as if seeing something off.
Or rather, as if saying goodbye to something.
The wind blew across the arena, ruffling her hair.
She let out a soft sigh.
That sigh was very light and faint, but the things packed inside it were too heavy.
Helplessness.
Disappointment.
And a hint of... relief.
Roy stepped forward and stood beside Aimi.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but for a moment he didn't know where to start.
After a few seconds of silence, he spoke, his voice very soft.
"I'm sorry I couldn't help you persuade your father to come back."
When these words were spoken, Roy himself felt a bit powerless.
He wanted to help Aimi; he truly did.
But that old geezer Anthony was as stubborn as a rock in a latrine—both smelly and hard.
A punch couldn't wake him up, and words couldn't move him.
For someone like that, unless they hit a dead end themselves, no one could pull them back.
Aimi turned her head and looked at Roy.
Her eyes were red, and tears still hung from her eyelashes, but the corners of her mouth curled up slightly.
She shook her head.
"There's no need to apologize, Roy."
Her voice was a bit hoarse but very gentle.
"You've already done your best to help me."
She paused and took a deep breath, as if pushing down some emotion.
"It's just that my father is too obsessed."
"It's okay; I've also done what I should have done."
After saying this, she reached out and wiped the tears from her face with a forceful motion, as if wiping away some unneeded weakness.
"From now on, I won't worry about my father's mess anymore."
Her tone calmed down, carrying a sense of determination she had never had before.
"I will put all my effort into taking care of Mother."
"I will be strong and work hard to walk my own path."
She suddenly paused at this point.
"Now my only thought is you, Roy."
These words were spoken very lightly but very seriously. Misty, who was nearby, was stunned for a moment: What's going on? How did it fast-forward to a confession to my Roy?
"I want to see you win the championship."
She looked into Roy's eyes, her gaze clear and firm.
Misty let out a breath: Oh, it's about winning the championship! I thought she was trying to win something else~
"That way, I'll also have the confidence to study Grandfather's fighting techniques well in the future and revive the Dou Hun Dojo."
Roy looked at her, his heart stirred slightly.
This girl, Aimi, really hasn't had it easy.
Her father was unreliable since she was a child, her mother's health was poor, and the burden of the Gym rested entirely on her shoulders alone.
Anyone else would have collapsed long ago.
But she didn't.
She had been holding on, always working hard.
Even when pushed away by her father, even when publicly humiliated, she didn't give up.
Now, she had finally let go.
It wasn't giving up; it was letting go.
She let go of her obsession with her father and the things she shouldn't have had to bear.
And then, she chose to walk her own path.
Delia walked over from the side. She didn't say anything, just gently opened her arms and pulled Aimi into a hug.
Her embrace was very warm, carrying a faint scent.
The moment Aimi was held, her body stiffened for a second.
Then, her whole being softened, leaning into Delia's embrace, her shoulders trembling slightly.
She didn't make a Sound, but the tears fell again.
This time, they weren't tears of grievance or anger.
They were the kind of tears that came from being understood and accepted.
Misty also pressed in, hugging Aimi from the side, one hand gently patting her back.
"It's okay, Sister Aimi," Misty's voice was soft, as if coaxing a child.
"We'll be with you. If you have any difficulties in the future, just tell us, and we'll do our best to help you."
Pikachu and Eevee also gathered around, rubbing against Aimi's calves on either side.
Surrounded by this group of people, a sincere smile finally appeared on the corners of Aimi's mouth.
Although tears still hung from the corners of her eyes, that smile was very beautiful.
Standing by the side and watching this scene, Roy also felt a slight warmth in his heart.
He nodded, not saying much.
It was good that Aimi could pull herself together again.
On his end, he had also successfully completed the task segment of "educating Anthony and refusing to give away Primeape."
Next...
Roy cast his gaze toward the distant P1 Fighting Competition venue.
The place was bustling with people, and the cheers, shouts, and whistles of the audience were mixed together like a pot of boiling water.
Next, only one final task segment remained.
Winning the P1 Fighting Competition championship.
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