The next morning.
Misty opened her eyes dazed and stared at the ceiling for a long time.
Her mind was a chaotic mess, as if someone had stuffed it with cotton.
She slowly sat up, the quilt sliding off her shoulders to reveal loose-fitting pajamas.
Sitting on the bed, Misty was completely out of it, her eyes half-open and her hair a messy bird's nest.
It took her a while to slowly come to her senses.
"Did I... time travel?"
Misty muttered to herself, her voice incredibly hoarse.
She rubbed her eyes, trying hard to recall what had happened last night.
"I remember I was eating a big feast..."
"And I drank some low-alcohol wine; how did I end up in bed?"
Misty scratched her head, unable to figure it out no matter how she thought about it.
She clearly remembered having dinner with Aimi and Delia, then drinking some fruit wine that tasted sweet, just like a soft drink.
And then?
And then there was no then.
She had blacked out.
Misty patted her face and pulled back the quilt to get out of bed, looking utterly bewildered.
When her feet touched the floor, her legs were still a bit weak, and her whole body felt unsteady.
"How can this wine be so strong..."
She grumbled, shuffling toward the bathroom in her slippers.
In the mirror, her hair was a tangled mess, and there were red marks on her face from the pillow.
Misty turned on the faucet and splashed a handful of cold water onto her face.
The icy water stimulated her skin, and she finally felt a bit more awake.
She was still pondering over last night's events while brushing her teeth, feeling that something wasn't right.
How could she have gotten drunk on such low-alcohol wine?
It wasn't scientific!
After washing up, Misty changed into clean clothes.
She tidied her hair in front of the mirror and patted her cheeks.
"Forget it, I won't think about it. I'll go have breakfast first."
Misty pushed open the door and walked out.
The hallway was very quiet, with only the sound of birds chirping outside the window.
She followed the hallway to the dining room and could smell the aroma of food from a distance.
Delia was busy in the kitchen. Several pots were on the stove, steaming hot; she was personally cooking a nutritional meal for Roy.
"Good morning, Sister Delia."
Misty gave a greeting and sat down at the dining table.
"Morning, Misty." Delia turned around and looked at her with a smile: "Did you sleep well?"
"It was okay..." Misty paused, then couldn't help but ask: "Sister Delia, how did I get back to my room last night?"
Delia walked over carrying two small side dishes and placed them on the table.
"You were drunk last night, so I helped you back."
"Huh?" Misty's eyes widened: "I was really drunk?"
"Yes, you were drinking and then just slumped onto the table. I couldn't even wake you up."
Delia smiled and went back to serve the porridge.
Misty looked incredulous: "But... that wine clearly didn't have much alcohol in it. How could I have gotten drunk?"
"Maybe it's because you don't usually drink." Delia placed a bowl of steaming white porridge in front of Misty: "Here, have some porridge first to warm your stomach."
Misty took the bowl, still unable to wrap her head around it.
She clearly remembered that her alcohol tolerance was decent. How could she have been knocked out by just a little fruit wine?
It was so embarrassing.
However, the aroma of the porridge soon drew her attention away.
The porridge Delia made was thick, with preserved eggs and lean meat added, and a sprinkle of chopped green onions. The smell alone was enough to whet one's appetite.
Misty scooped a spoonful into her mouth, and her eyes immediately lit up.
"Delicious!"
She stopped thinking about the wine and buried her head in her food.
Delia watched her with a smile, then sat down across from her and slowly sipped her porridge.
Halfway through her meal, Misty looked up at the dining room.
"Eh? Where are Aimi and Roy? Are they not up yet?"
"Not yet," Delia said in a very calm tone.
Misty looked at the clock on the wall; it was almost nine o'clock.
"Doesn't Roy have the final this afternoon? Why isn't he up to train yet?"
Delia smiled and didn't respond.
Misty didn't think much of it and continued to lower her head to eat her porridge.
When she was almost finished, footsteps came from the hallway.
Misty looked up.
Roy and Aimi walked in together.
Misty turned her head and noticed a detail: Aimi's face was particularly rosy today.
It wasn't the kind of red from makeup, but a rosy glow radiating from within her skin. Her complexion was incredibly good.
"Eh? Why did you two just get here?"
Misty said indistinctly, still holding a spoon in her mouth.
"I thought you went to train, Roy. The final is this afternoon; why did you get up so late?"
Roy sat down at the dining table with a very calm expression.
"I overslept."
"Overslept?" Misty's eyes widened: "You can actually oversleep on a day like this?"
Then she turned to look at Aimi.
"You too, Aimi. Don't you usually get up quite early? Why are you so late today too?"
Aimi's face turned red again.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but didn't know how to start.
She had actually woken up long ago, but being held by Roy was too comfortable, and she didn't want to move.
And to be honest...
She didn't want to break free either.
The feeling of being held by Roy was so good that she simply didn't want to move.
She had just snuggled in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat and feeling the warmth of his chest.
Then Roy woke up too.
The first thing he did upon waking wasn't to let go, but to lower his head and give her a kiss on the forehead.
Then Roy's hands started to get restless.
He actually started to touch her...
Left with no choice, she and Roy had another round of mischief.
Then they lingered in bed for a while longer before getting up to shower.
So now...
Aimi sat at the dining table, her face flushed. Her mind was full of the morning's scenes, and she was a bit absent-minded.
"Eh? Aimi?"
Misty's voice pulled her back to reality.
"Your face is so rosy. Why did your complexion suddenly become so good?"
Misty leaned in to look, her eyes full of curiosity.
"Eh, how did you do it? Is there some secret to your skincare?"
Aimi's face turned even redder.
"No... it's nothing..."
She stammered, her eyes darting around, simply not daring to look at Misty.
"It's just... maybe it's because I soaked in the hot springs..."
"Does soaking in hot springs have such a good effect?" Misty looked suspicious.
Aimi grew more flustered, her fingers twisting together under the table as she desperately tried to find the right words.
But Misty's questions kept coming one after another, and she simply couldn't fend them off.
"Eh, Aimi, what skincare products do you use?"
"How is your skin so good?"
"Is there some special massage technique?"
Aimi opened her mouth but couldn't say anything.
She couldn't exactly say that it wasn't skincare products, but because of Roy that she was so radiant, could she?
Just as Aimi was about to be overwhelmed, Delia walked over carrying two bowls of porridge.
"Alright, alright, let them eat first."
Delia placed the porridge in front of Roy and Aimi, smiling as she interrupted Misty's questioning.
"Roy still has the final this afternoon. Let him eat something first; he'll have to go train in a bit."
Misty then realized.
"Right, right, right, eat first, eat first."
She finally shut her mouth and sat back obediently to continue drinking her porridge.
Aimi breathed a sigh of relief and gave Delia a grateful look.
Delia winked at her with a meaningful smile on her lips.
Aimi's face turned red again, and she quickly lowered her head to drink her porridge.
The reason Delia helped Aimi out was that she knew everything.
Last night, after she had settled Misty in, she came out of the room just in time to see Roy carrying Aimi from the other end of the hallway.
A princess carry.
Aimi was curled up in Roy's arms, her face flushed, her whole body as soft as a ball of cotton.
Her arms were wrapped around Roy's neck, and her face was buried in his chest.
One look at that scene and it was obvious what had happened.
Delia was an experienced woman and understood at a glance.
She didn't make a sound at the time, just stood at the corner of the hallway, watching Roy carry Aimi into the room and watching the door gently close.
Then she smiled.
The smile carried a sense of relief and satisfaction.
After all, back at Aimi's house, she had been playing the ultimate wingwoman.
Creating all sorts of opportunities, pushing things along, and giving all kinds of hints and suggestions.
Now that it had finally happened, as the eldest sister, she was naturally happy.
With one more sister, the house would be even livelier.
Delia thought, her smile deepening.
She returned to the kitchen and served another bowl of porridge.
"Come, Aimi, drink some more to nourish your body."
Aimi took the bowl and whispered a small thank you, not even daring to raise her head.
Misty didn't notice these details; she was fully focused on tackling the Preserved Egg and Lean Meat Congee in her bowl.
...
After breakfast, Aimi taught Primeape a simple technique from her fighting skills.
Then, after the group had lunch together, they headed toward the competition venue.
By the time they reached the venue, it was already surrounded by crowds.
The finals of the P1 Fighting Competition had attracted a large audience.
The place was bustling with noise and excitement.
As Roy and Aimi reached the contestants' tunnel, a staff member came forward to meet them.
"Contestant Roy, please follow me. It's time to prepare for your entrance."
Roy nodded and turned to look at Aimi.
"Go to the spectator stands first. Delia and the others should have arrived by now."
"Mm." Aimi nodded, hesitated for a moment, then stood on her tiptoes and gave Roy a quick kiss on the cheek.
"Good luck."
Her voice was very soft, but firm.
Roy was stunned for a moment, then smiled.
"Okay."
With her face flushed red, Aimi turned and walked away quickly.
When she reached the spectator stands, Delia and Misty were already seated in the VIP section of the family area.
The so-called VIP section was actually the first row near the ring, offering the best view.
Seeing Aimi approach, Misty waved excitedly.
"Sister Aimi, over here, over here!"
Aimi walked over and sat down beside her.
Just then, the music at the venue began to play.
The host stepped onto the ring with a microphone, his voice loud and passionate.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the finals of the P1 Fighting Competition!"
"Today, we will determine the ultimate Champion of this tournament!"
A burst of cheers and applause erupted from the crowd.
The host continued, "First, let us welcome the contestant from the red corner, the fighting rookie who has fought his way through the ranks—Contestant Roy!"
Roy emerged from the tunnel with steady steps and a calm expression.
Applause broke out in the venue; though not as loud as the cheers for his opponent, it was still enthusiastic.
Aimi sat below the stage, her eyes fixed on him without blinking.
Then the host shouted again, "Next, let us welcome the contestant from the blue corner. The favorite to win this tournament, the powerful Machoke! Its Trainer is—Contestant Alex!"
A burly man walked out, followed by a robust Machoke, Superior-rank (lv35).
That Machoke's muscles were knotted and its veins were bulging; every step it took carried a sense of pressure.
The venue instantly erupted into deafening cheers.
After all, Alex was a local contestant and very popular.
On the ring, the referee confirmed the readiness of both contestants.
"The rules are a one-on-one single battle. The match ends when one side is unable to battle."
"Both sides, take your positions..."
Roy stood in the Trainer's spot, holding Primeape's Poké Ball in his hand.
Alex stood opposite him with a confident smile on his face.
"Kid, you're pretty good for making it to the finals, but the championship is mine."
Roy didn't bother responding; he was tired of this kind of pre-match trash talk.
The referee raised his hand.
"Begin!"
Roy pressed the button on the Poké Ball, and Primeape emerged in a flash of red light, pounding its chest and letting out a battle cry.
Alex also released his Machoke. The Machoke crossed its arms over its chest, its muscles bulging with an intimidating aura.
"Machoke, use Low Kick!"
Alex struck first.
Machoke moved with surprising speed, sweeping a leg toward Primeape's lower body.
"Primeape, dodge it!"
Primeape darted to the side, narrowly avoiding the kick.
But Machoke's assault didn't stop; it immediately followed up with a Karate Chop.
"Block it!"
Primeape crossed its arms and took the blow head-on.
With a dull thud, Primeape's feet sank into the floor of the ring.
What incredible strength.
Roy narrowed his eyes.
"Primeape, use softness to overcome hardness."
Primeape nodded, and its body began to become fluid and flexible.
It no longer met force with force, but instead moved with Machoke's momentum, its body flowing like water.
When Machoke's next punch came, Primeape didn't block it directly. Instead, it sidestepped, pressing its palm against Machoke's arm and guiding the force away.
Machoke stumbled, nearly losing its balance.
Alex frowned.
"What was that?"
He commanded Machoke to continue the offensive, throwing punches and kicks, each move more fierce than the last.
But Primeape was like a ball of cotton; no matter how hard Machoke hit, the blows never landed solidly.
Every time Machoke's attack was about to hit, Primeape would sidestep, dodge, or deflect, redirecting Machoke's power to the side.
Machoke became increasingly frustrated, its attacks grew more violent, but its accuracy plummeted.
The audience was bewildered.
"What's wrong with that Primeape? Wasn't it a fierce brawler before?"
"Why is it so soft today?"
"But it looks like Machoke can't do anything to it..."
Misty was also stunned. "Sister Aimi, is that the technique you taught?"
Aimi nodded, her eyes never leaving the ring.
"Yes, Yielding Overcoming Hardness."
"So cool..." Misty marveled. "Machoke is being led around by the nose."
It was true.
Every one of Machoke's attacks was neutralized, and its stamina was being drained continuously, while Primeape hadn't taken any real damage.
Alex's expression grew increasingly grim.
"Machoke, stop wasting time with it! Use Cross Chop!"
Machoke crossed its fists and slammed them down toward Primeape with immense force.
The move was fast and brutal, accompanied by the sound of rushing wind.
"Primeape, catch it!"
Primeape didn't dodge. Instead, it met the attack with its hands, pressing its palms against Machoke's wrists and pulling downward with the momentum.
Machoke's Cross Chop missed, and its body leaned forward, exposing a weakness.
Roy's eyes lit up.
This was the moment he was waiting for.
"Primeape, Rage Fist!"
Primeape's fist clenched tight, and a dark red glow emanated from it.
It was counting in its head.
One, two, three...
From the start of the match until now, Primeape had taken six of Machoke's attacks.
The power of Rage Fist had accumulated to its maximum value.
"Strike!"
Primeape threw a punch.
The punch was fast and heavy, slamming squarely into Machoke's chest.
BOOM!!
A heavy sound of impact.
Machoke's body jerked backward, its feet left the ground, and it was sent flying.
It crashed heavily onto the floor of the ring, kicking up a cloud of dust.
The venue fell silent instantly.
Everyone's eyes widened.
What on earth was that?
It sent Machoke flying with a single punch?
Alex was also stunned, his mouth hanging open wide enough to fit an egg.
But Machoke was indeed resilient.
It pushed off the ground with its hands and stood up shakily.
Although blood was seeping from the corner of its mouth, its gaze remained fierce.
Roy nodded.
This Machoke has decent potential; its health bar is quite thick.
A max-power Rage Fist at the same level would have sent any other Pokémon straight to sleep.
The fact that this Machoke could still stand meant it really had some skill.
But it didn't matter.
"Primeape, Seismic Toss! Goodnight, Machoke!"
Primeape lunged forward and grabbed Machoke's arms.
Machoke tried to break free, but that previous punch had drained too much of its stamina; it couldn't muster any strength now.
Primeape swung with force, carrying Machoke into the air.
The two figures spun in the air, rising higher and higher.
Then, they dove down sharply!
BOOM!!!
Machoke was slammed violently into the floor of the ring, making the entire platform shake.
When the dust cleared, Machoke lay in the center of the stage, its eyes turned into swirls.
Alex was completely dumbfounded. After all that fancy dodging, one punch, and one grab, it was over?
The final he had imagined wasn't like this!
The referee walked over to check, then raised his hand.
"Machoke is unable to battle! The winner is—Contestant Roy!"
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