Pokémon, Ash's art style is off!

A vigorous monkey monster immediately leaped out.

It screeched and kicked off with its hind legs, about to charge at the punching power testing machine.

"and many more!"

The punch, brimming with explosive power, had not yet reached its target.

He was firmly stopped by an arm that stretched out from the side, with dark skin and muscles as strong as an iron hoop.

The owner of the arm was a man who had always stood silently in the shadows beside the machine, like a sculpture.

He was also wearing a staff uniform, but his demeanor was completely different.

His face was serious, his features were as hard as if carved by an axe, and beneath his bronze skin were the marks left by long-term arduous training.

At this moment, he was calmly watching Xiao Mao and his monkey monster.

"The qualification test must be completed by the applicant by hand, without the help of any Pokémon."

Xiao Mao's smile froze.

"Are you kidding me? Testing the trainer himself?"

"What kind of logic is that? Shouldn't the tournament be testing the combined strength of the trainer and the Pokémon, and the Pokémon's battle abilities?"

The staff member's voice was calm, yet carried an unquestionable tone.

"Rules are rules."

He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over Ash, Gary, and the many trainers who had been drawn to watch the spectacle, before slowly speaking.

“'Since it is the world’s number one martial arts tournament, its purpose is naturally to select the strongest fighters.'”

"That must be the strongest Pokémon!"

Xiao Mao retorted.

Upon hearing this, the man continued.

"If the trainer himself has never truly used his body to experience how 'power' rises from the soles of his feet, twists through the waist and hips, flows through the shoulders and arms, and finally condenses in the fist."

I've never felt the shockwave on my muscles and bones from a full-force strike, nor the instinctive adjustments I need to make to the angle of my strike and the coordination of my muscles...

So how could he possibly discern the minute, millimeter-level deviations in his Pokémon's posture during hundreds of training sessions?

How can one truly understand the complex state of mind it experiences when breaking through a bottleneck—a state where muscles throb and the spirit yearns to transcend?

How can one provide guidance that transcends theoretical concepts on paper, truly stems from personal experience, and gets straight to the heart of the matter?

in short.

"If you can't even do it yourself, how can you teach Pokémon well?!"

111. The Kanto region is terrifying!

Upon hearing this, Xiao Zhi couldn't help but nod.

blurted out

"That's it, that's it!"

The Pikachu on the shoulder also rested its chin on its little paw, looking quite convinced.

"Pikachu! Pikachu!"

Xiao Zhi looked at Xiao Xia and Xiao Gang.

"See, I told you, true masters of combat and true combat experts are inseparable!"

Xiao Gang: "?"

Xiaoxia: "?"

No?

They turned their heads almost simultaneously, their eyes conveying a clear meaning.

You guys with such amazing physical abilities, do you all share a single brain?!

After listening to what the staff member said.

After listening to what the staff member said, the muscular men who had been drawn to the lively scene nodded in agreement.

His words were full of heartfelt agreement.

"That's right!", "That's a great summary!", "That's exactly what I was thinking!", "Me too!"

The room was filled with whispers for a moment.

After saying his last sentence, the staff member turned his gaze away from the theoretical explanation.

She calmly turned to Xiao Mao.

"So, trainer, if you're not going to take the test," he said in a flat tone, yet with an imposing calm, "please don't bother the other applicants."

"you......"

Xiao Mao's Adam's apple bobbed.

I was thinking of saying a few more trashy things to keep things going.

"Hmm?↑"

Before he could even speak, the staff member raised an eyebrow.

The force in his hand unconsciously increased slightly.

When he saw the monkey monster he had subdued struggling desperately, unable to even break free of its fists.

Xiao Mao readily agreed and cleverly stopped talking.

"...That makes sense!"

"Hmm. ↓"

Of course, it wasn't that he was afraid.

With so many people present, what if I argue my point and make the other side cry?

The other side won't be able to back down either, will they?

Having figured this out, Xiao Mao didn't hesitate for a moment. He recalled the monkey monster and took two steps back to the side.

He didn't walk away completely, but instead stood at the edge of the crowd with his arms crossed, chin slightly raised, trying to maintain the last bit of composure.

The staff looked at Xiaozhi.

Xiao Zhi nodded and stood in front of the testing machine again.

Pikachu nimbly jumped off his shoulder, squatted at his feet, tilted its head back, and stared at him without blinking.

"Pikachu".

Xiao Zhi glanced down at it, didn't say anything, but just smiled slightly.

Then, take a deep breath.

Then all that remained of the world before my eyes was the solid ground beneath my feet and the black leather-covered boxing target in front of me.

And the power within his body that was being slowly mobilized.

Stand firmly on your feet with your knees slightly bent.

The waist and hips sag.

He still assumed the standard horse stance, but it was different from when he was interrupted earlier—

At this moment, his breathing became deeper, his eyes calmer, and when his fist was brought to his waist, the muscles in his entire arm were not stiffly tense, but rather like a fully drawn bowstring, ready to be released.

one second.

Two seconds. Water.

The large group of Fighting-type trainers around couldn't help but swallow hard when they sensed the aura emanating from Ash.

...This feeling.

It's like a high-speed train connecting Golden City to the capital!

A punch is thrown.

There were no shouts, no exaggerated exertion.

With a twist of his waist and hips, his shoulders and back moved forward, and his fist pushed out straight out.

"boom--"

The punching bag emitted a deep, resonant thud.

The numbers on the electronic screen flickered a few times before settling down.

No more, no less, exactly three hundred.

Xiao Zhi withdrew his fist, gently shook his wrist, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

He let out a long breath, raised his arm and wiped it haphazardly with his sleeve, muttering to himself.

"This is really difficult..."

The crowd fell silent for a moment.

"No? Only three hundred?"

"...Just barely passing."

"You thought he was some big shot just by looking at him, but he's nothing special?"

"I reckon they practiced for a couple of days, but that's about it."

Those eyes that had been gathered around quickly looked away.

I thought this person would be a formidable opponent, but it turns out he's just like that.

In that case, it's not worth wasting attention on this barely passing guy.

Staff members standing next to the testing machine.