Pokémon: I have no choice but to do this old thing?

Miss Champion's leisurely time eventually came to an end. League duties summoned her back. On the morning before her departure, she stood at the door, the sea breeze ruffling her long golden hair.

"Thank you for your hospitality during this time."

She turned to look at Zhang Jianying, who was seeing her off, her eyes gentle, then a sly glint flashed in them. "And, special training guidance."

Just as Zhang Jianying was about to respond politely, he saw Cynthia suddenly step forward and gently straighten his collar, which was slightly disheveled from his morning exercise.

Her movements were natural, yet her fingertips brushed lightly across his neck.

"Coach," she said, standing on tiptoe and whispering in his ear with a hint of teasing amusement, "I hope to see you improve even more next time we meet, in every way."

Before Zhang Jianying could react, she had already turned around nimbly and leaped onto the back of the Garchomp.

A golden figure streaked across the sky in the morning light, leaving only a faint fragrance in the air and the memory of someone whose heart skipped a beat.

The house seemed quieter without Cynthia, but only seemingly, because a little guy quickly filled the silence in his own way.

"Ice, Ice Queen!"

In the afternoon, the ice goose waddled over with a "baa-baa," its square ice head topped with a brightly colored picture book.

That was a children's version of the Sinnoh storybook left behind by Cynthia.

Ice Goose laboriously pushed the book in front of Zhang Jianying with its small wings, its diamond-shaped beak opening and closing, its tuft of hair twitching, its eyes full of expectation.

Zhang Jianying chuckled, put down the scissors she was using to trim Gardevoir's hair, picked up Ice Goose and placed it on her lap, then opened the picture book.

Looking at the picture book, I read the story to the little penguin.

A heartwarming story about a little Chimchar helping a lost Snowcap Monster find its way home, encountering various kind Pokémon along the way who lend a helping hand.

After the story was finished, the Ice Goose let out a dissatisfied cry, patted the cover of the picture book with its little wings, and then vigorously nudged Zhang Jianying's chin with its icy head.

Gardevoir handed the little penguin a cup of Moo Moo Milk, a smile playing on its lips.

"It said this story was too simple and not interesting. The ancient warriors and legends told by the pretty older sister were much more fun."

Zhang Jianying covered her face.

Zhu Lan, what story did you tell the little penguin?

Looking at the expectant look in Ice Goose's eyes, he sighed, forcing me to use my ultimate move.

Okay, since children's picture books can't satisfy us, let's try some different stories for adults.

He had to coax and trick the little penguin into giving up, and they agreed that he would tell it an even more interesting story that night.

Besides Ice Goose, several uninvited guests also joined the storytelling session that evening.

When the Greatsword returned from training, it saw the trainer being entangled, so it sat down to the side.

With its back straight and its paw blades resting flat in front of its knees, as if participating in some ancient ritual, the baby dragon, clutching an Everstone, squeezed next to Gardevoir, its scarlet eyes gleaming with curiosity, gesturing and calling out.

The meaning is obvious: I want to see what tricks you can come up with.

Zhang Jianying looked at the audience, cleared his throat, and began to tell the absurd story about the knight.

"Long ago, there was a man named Don Quixote who read too many chivalric novels and considered himself a chivalrous knight-errant."

When the story of Don Quixote mistaking an inn for a castle and a village woman for a princess came up, the baby dragon bared its teeth and chuckled, poking the pot with its claws as if to say, "Look at this fool."

Huhu Doudou blinked, neither confirming nor denying.

The Greatsword Demon's claws tightened slightly.

Its expression remained unchanged, but a deep sense of confusion flashed in its eyes, which were always as sharp as knives.

The sharp edges of the foot blade gleamed coldly in the moonlight; in its combat logic, misjudging the situation was a path to death.

The story continues.

Don Quixote donned his homemade armor, mounted his skinny horse, and embarked on an adventure with his neighbor Sancho Panza.

He saw the windmill as a giant, raised his spear, and charged forward.

"That's a giant!"

In the story, Don Quixote shouts, "Watch me cut off their heads!"

The moment the spear pierced the windmill blade, both man and horse were thrown into the air.

Baby Dragon laughed even louder, slapping the ground with its tail.

The Greatsword Demon's pupils contracted slightly, not out of mockery, but out of some deeper shock.

It lowered its head, looked at its claws that could easily cut through rocks, and then slowly retracted them.

Why attack an enemy that is clearly unbeatable?

Why do something absurd that is bound to fail?

The Greatsword Demon couldn't understand it.

Zhang Jianying's voice continued in the night: "He lay on the ground, covered in wounds, and Sancho asked him why he charged forward knowing it was a windmill. Don Quixote replied: 'If everyone shrinks back because the enemy is strong, who in this world will dare to speak up for the weak?'"

The courtyard suddenly fell silent.

The baby dragon's laughter sound effect was stuck in its throat.

It tightened its grip on the Everstone, a complex emotion flashing in its crimson pupils. It often did things like "charging even when it knew it was no match," but only for its trainer.

The Greatsword Demon raised its head.

Its gaze passed over the narrator and landed on the dark sea in the distance.

For a moment, its shoulders tensed up, as if it were about to get up, but then slowly relaxed.

A low hum emanated from his chest, not words, but a tremor of confusion.

The story is nearing its end.

The battered and bruised Don Quixote finally "woke up" at his sickbed and admitted that he was just an ordinary man.

In his final moments, he held his dearest friend's hand and murmured:

"If I have ever made any child believe in courage and dreams... if I have ever made any oppressed person feel that there are still people in this world fighting for them... then my spear was not broken in vain."

Under the moonlight, the story ended.

Ice Goose had already fallen asleep in Zhang Jianying's arms, its square head bobbing gently. For the little penguin, which was only a few days old, the story was still too obscure. It simply liked staying by its trainer's side; it didn't care whether the story was actually fun or not.

Baby Dragon remained silent for a long time, then suddenly turned around and ran away with the Everstone in his arms. He climbed onto the shell of the Earth-Turtle and hid under a big tree, facing the group with his tail.

But the tip of its tail was trembling slightly; some of the madman's words had struck a chord deep within it, a place it itself was unwilling to acknowledge.

The Greatsword Demon slowly rose to his feet.

It walked to the edge of the terrace and stood facing the sea.

The night wind blew the flag-like hair on its face, and it stood there for a long time, until the moon had moved an inch across the sea.

Then it turned around and walked towards its resting place. It paused as it passed Zhang Jianying, but did not turn back.

Its foot blades were placed in the sheaths of its forelimb shells, flashing a cold light in the moonlight—not a sign of fighting spirit, but rather the sharpness being reforged.

The next evening, the storytelling session attracted even more participants.

Still engrossed in exploring everywhere and trying to travel to the spirit world, Ghost arrived with Shuttle. Lickitung curiously wiggled around, saying that Shuttle had told a wonderful story yesterday and it didn't want to miss it today.

This time, Zhang Jianying chose a more modern story.

"His name is Leon, a top-notch assassin. He lives alone, drinks only milk every day, meticulously cares for a pot of silver queen, sleeps sitting up, and is always on high alert."

Hearing this, the Greatsword Demon nodded in agreement. It adjusted its posture, making itself more upright.

Regularity, restraint, and constant vigilance are the survival strategies it recognizes for the strong.

"Until one day, the little girl next door, Matilda, knocked on his door. Her whole family had been murdered by her enemies, and she had nowhere to go."

Leon took her in.

He taught her how to use a gun, yet forbade her to smoke, urged her to drink milk, and awkwardly patted her back when she had nightmares.

"Matilda, gun in hand, said, 'I want revenge.' Leon looked at her and said, 'Revenge solves nothing.'"

"What can solve the problem?"

"Time. And milk."

The Greatsword Demon remained silent.

It lowered its head, somewhat confused. What else could these hands do besides kill? Does the strong need a reason to protect the weak?

The baby dragon scratched at the ground in frustration, its short tail slapping loudly.

In its paranoid worldview, anyone who harms its vital existence must be utterly destroyed.

Leon's "restraint" seemed to it to be an incomprehensible weakness.

If anyone dares to touch a single hair on a trainer's head, it will hunt them down to the ends of the earth, even if it means they both perish together.

The story reaches its climax.

Surrounded by enemies, Leon opened an escape vent for Mathilda, choosing to stay behind to cover their retreat.

"Will you die?" the girl asked, crying.

"No. This is my job," the assassin said calmly. "Now, let's go."

In his final moments, he shoved the pin of the grenade he always carried with him into Matilda's hand; it was his last resort, something he never parted with.

"This is Matilda's gift."

Amidst the explosion, the assassin and his Silver Queen turned to ashes.

……

The ice penguin, which hadn't fallen asleep today, slightly opened its diamond-shaped beak, and its two little wings unconsciously covered its ice head. The little penguin suddenly felt a little sad.

Baby Dragon clung tightly to the Everstone, its fingernails scraping against the stone's surface with a harsh sound.

Its breathing was rapid, and its pupils were filled with violence and a kind of panic.

What if a trainer encounters that situation?

No, it won't. It will never let that happen. It will eliminate all threats before they even arise, leaving none behind.

The Greatsword Demon stood up stiffly, its shell-like armor feeling rusty and heavy.

It walked up to Zhang Jianying, looked up at her, then turned to look at the warm lights in the villa, and then at each of its companions.

His eyes looked incredibly complex in the moonlight: confusion, struggle, and a certain conviction that had been swayed.

It opened its mouth, as if it wanted to say something. But in the end, it only gave Zhang Jianying a deep look.

Then it turned and left, heading towards the shore.

Tonight, the Greatsword Demon didn't train. He just stood in knee-deep water, staring at the dark horizon, motionless until dawn.

……

As always, our "villainous workaholic" Lord Lieque diligently fulfilled his KPI targets to promote a shift in certain perspectives.

The afternoon after the storytelling session, a flock of large-billed finches passing by discovered this rich orchard.

They not only steal tree fruits, but also deliberately drive away and peck at the weak walking grass and shuttlecock floss that try to stop them, as if it were just for fun.

Before Zhang Jianying and his Pokémon arrived, the Stuart had already reached the scene.

The battle ended quickly.

The moment the leader of the Greatmouth Sparrows pounced, the Greatsword Demon drew its foot blade.

With a single, precise strike, a deep gash was slashed across the opponent's chest, deliberately avoiding all vital organs. The leader of the large-beaked sparrows screamed and fled into the air, while the remaining sparrow minions scattered in all directions.

As is customary, it's time to end.

They drove out the invaders and defended their territory.

The Greatsword Demon turned to leave. Then it heard a sobbing sound.

A walking grass, its leaves damaged by a big-billed finch, huddled under a fruit tree, shivering.

Its companions gathered around, pointing at the wound with their leaves and emitting faint moans.

The Greatsword Demon stopped in his tracks.

Its armor gleamed with a cold, hard sheen in the sunlight, and the blood of a large-billed bird still dripped from the blade of its right claw. It stood there, like a sculpture suddenly frozen in time.

One second, two seconds later…

The Pokémon were all looking at it.

Baby Dragon pursed its lips, preparing to step forward. It didn't care about these wild creatures, but the trainer seemed to want to help. Out of respect for the trainer, Baby Dragon would reluctantly lend a hand. Just as it took a step...

The Greatsword Demon moved.

It slowly lay down.

The movement was clumsy and comical for such a large and majestic Pokémon, and the scraping of its shell produced a dull sound.

But it still chose to lower its body and try to look at the injured Oddish at eye level.

Then, it did something unexpected.

The Greatsword Demon extended its left forepaw and very carefully touched the intact leaf of the Oddish.

A touch that couldn't be simpler.

But the wild little creatures understood that it was saying, "Don't be afraid."

The walking grasses stopped trembling.

A leading Oddish floated over, pushed the largest and sweetest berry in front of the Greatsword Demon, and tried to condense a few drops of dew on its leaves.

The Greatsword Demon looked at the Oddish, then at its own blood-stained foot blade, and remained silent for a moment.

He accepted the tree fruit, his movements stiff yet exceptionally gentle.

The Greatsword Demon didn't eat it; instead, it placed the berry next to the injured Oddish.

He then got up but did not leave. Instead, he stood under the fruit trees, turned around, and faced the direction in which the Great-billed Sparrows had flown away.

It turned its back to the wild Pokémon and let out a low growl.

Gardevoir, who was helping Oddish heal, wasn't embarrassed this time. Instead, it earnestly translated for the trainer.

"It said, 'This place is under my protection; the bullying of the weak shall end here.'"

The round hole on the ice block head of the ice goose turned into a star shape. The little penguin was not ashamed at all. Instead, it imitated the image of the Great Sword Demon and kept making noise until it was gently pushed away by the Great Sword Demon, which made it feel a little embarrassed, and then it stopped imitating.

The baby dragon beside him had a surge of emotions in its scarlet eyes.

It understands "protection".

It is protecting its trainer with its own life.

But it couldn't understand the Greatsword Demon's behavior of extending "protection" to unrelated parties. In its view, power should be used to protect its own "possessions," and what did the rest have to do with it?

However, when it saw the Oddish carefully cleaning the dried blood from the Greatsword Demon's blades—

The baby dragon turned its head away, let out a "woo-woo," and its tail twitched uneasily.

From that day on, the Greatsword Demon's behavior quietly changed.

Because the branches on the Earth-Turtle's carapace are too thick and hinder its movement, the Greatsword Demon will walk up to it and raise its foot blade.

Only after the tortoise growled in agreement did it carefully begin to cut. Each cut precisely avoided the tender new shoots. After pruning, it would use its claws to brush away the fallen leaves from the tortoise's back.

It no longer adopted a "we're on different wavelengths" attitude towards Gastly. Instead, it began to listen quietly to Gastly's exaggerated, lame jokes and keenly sensed that Gastly seemed to be hiding some emotions beneath its happy exterior. It was somewhat confused and asked, but received no answer.

During the Little Penguin's story time, the Greatsword Demon became the most loyal listener.

Every evening, when it sees the Ice Goose "quacking" as it goes to find its trainer, it will quietly walk over and sit down in a spot a little distance away, but where it can hear clearly.

Its eyes are focused when it listens to stories, and occasionally, when it hears a key plot point, its right paw will unconsciously tap the ground lightly.

That was its only outward expression of emotion.

After Zhang Jianying finished telling the story, the Ice Goose excitedly pounced on the Great Sword Demon, bumping its square ice head against its foreleg shell and calling out, "Mr. Knight, play with me!"

The Greatsword Demon did not refuse as usual.

It slowly crouched down, lowering its height so that the ice goose could reach it more easily. As the little penguin happily circled around it, its usually tightly pursed, sharp beak seemed to loosen slightly.

It's just an almost invisible arc.

But Gardevoir saw it. It floated to Zhang Jianying's side and smiled gently with the trainer.

……

Late at night, on the coast.

The Greatsword Demon trains alone. But now, its moves have gained something new.

It began practicing parrying, practicing stopping abruptly during a full-force charge of [Water Jet] without damaging the plants beneath its feet, and practicing using the side of its foot blades to precisely push away rocks instead of slicing them.

The Greatsword Demon will swing his blade facing the waves.

The blade cleaved through the water, but just before it touched a fluorescent fish that had strayed into the shallows, it abruptly changed direction and slashed at empty air.

As the water splashed down, the fluorescent fish swam away in a panic.

The Greatsword Demon stared at his foot blade for a long time.

Under the same moonlight, by the window on the second floor of the villa, Baby Dragon held an Everstone, staring intently at the sleeping profile of its trainer.

Its eyes were obsessive and burning, its scarlet pupils like two inextinguishable flames in the darkness.

If any threat dares to approach this window at this moment, it will pounce without hesitation. Not just repel, but utterly tear it apart, leaving the threat without even a scream.

It remembers Leon's story. It remembers the assassin who died protecting the girl.

The baby dragon tightened its claws, but the stone pierced it painfully.

I won't let that happen.

It will crush you into powder before you even see the threat.

I will eliminate anyone who might harm you beforehand. Not a single one will be left.

This is the baby dragon's morbid protection—extreme, obsessive, and possessive. But it enjoys it nonetheless.

The moonlight illuminated the figure of the Greatsword Demon training on the shore, and also the burning eyes of the Baby Dragon by the window.

Both kinds of protection are equally heavy.

The former learned to use a sharp blade to protect the weak, while the latter would rather stain his hands red than let any danger approach those he cherishes.

Before dawn, the Greatsword Demon finished his training and returned to the villa's front door.

It didn't go in; it just stood outside, watching its sleeping companions inside.

The Ice Goose nestled beside its trainer's pillow, the Gardevoir floating in a corner meditating, the Haunter dozing beside its Shuckle Shell, and the small figure vigilantly watching over a rock by the second-floor window.

The moonlight illuminated its deep blue shell for the last time, and also something heavy and soft in its eyes.

It raised its right forepaw, its foot blade gleaming coldly in the moonlight.

Then, it made a strange move—turning its foot blade horizontally, with the sharp edge facing outwards and the blunt edge facing inwards, pausing for a moment in front of its chest.

Like an ancient chivalrous salute.

After the ceremony, it turned and left to continue its patrol. Its steps were firm, its silence as solid as a mountain.

Inside the window, Zhang Jianying was actually awake.

He watched the Greatsword Demon's figure disappear into the morning mist and said softly:

"Welcome home, Mr. Knight."

Outside the window, the sound of the waves is gentle.

And a soul that once wielded its sword solely for survival finally found something more worthy of protection than survival itself. And, in its own way, it made a silent vow.

That sharp blade was sheathed from then on.