Pikachu, Jolteon, and even Bulbasaur all stared at me like I had lost my mind.

I was standing in the middle of Viridian Forest, surrounded by my Pokémon, trying to get some serious training done, but it felt like everything was working against me today. It didn’t help that my face was still sore from my "encounter" with Mewtwo, who had definitely been a lot more evasive than I thought.

"Yes, Slobro," I repeated, gesturing to the slow-moving, lazy-eyed creature who was half-sitting, half-laying in the grass. "You’re gonna work with Squirtle today. You two will make a great team. Trust me."

Squirtle blinked, clearly unimpressed with the plan. "Squirtle?"

"Slobro!" Slobro muttered sleepily, as if he was already halfway to another nap.

Jolteon was giving me a side-eye, clearly not enthusiastic about battling alongside Pikachu, especially with how it seemed like the little mouse always got all the attention. Pikachu simply waved it off, then gave me a determined "Pikachu!" as if to say, "Let's just get this over with."

I sighed and tried to pump up the team, "Alright, everyone, let’s train hard and forget about the gym leaders being no help today. We’re going to level up and then—"

"Pika piiiii!" Pikachu interrupted me, pointing at something in the distance.

I turned to follow his gaze and my heart sank. Of all the places to train, we ended up right by… the Vermilion City Gym. Of course, the very same gym that rejected me earlier!

"Why are we here?!" I groaned, immediately regretting my decision to take a detour.

"Well, if it isn’t the runaway trainer!" a familiar voice called out.

I turned slowly to see none other than Surge, standing outside the gym with his arms crossed, his sunglasses glinting menacingly in the sunlight.

"Surge..." I muttered.

"What’s the deal with your face, kid? You look like you went through a battle with a legendary!" He grinned, clearly enjoying my misfortune.

“Look, I don't have time for your theatrics, Surge," I snapped, clearly done with all of this. "I’m trying to train my Pokémon, and no one is helping me!"

"Well, maybe that's because you’re running around like a wild Pidgey," he replied nonchalantly, still in his ridiculous gym leader pose. “No one’s gonna take you seriously looking like that!”

I groaned and rubbed my forehead. "Ugh, I don’t even care anymore. Pikachu, Jolteon, let’s go."

And with that, I started heading away from the gym, knowing that my Pokémon were still going to do their best even if the world was conspiring against me.

But of course, as soon as I turned the corner, who should I run into? None other than Brock—yes, Brock—sitting in front of the Pewter City Gym, eating some rock-hard rock candy.

"BROOOOOOCK!" I screamed, running straight past him, so frustrated I could barely see straight.

Brock blinked up at me, eyes wide. "What... are you—?"

I didn’t even give him time to finish his question. "I NEEEEEEEEED TO BATTLE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!"

But apparently, Brock had been trained to deal with crazy people like me. He didn’t flinch. Instead, he just calmly took a sip of his water, then said, "Kid, you're gonna need a lot more than a battle to get that face fixed."

And I thought Surge was rude.