Pokemon: Radical Redux

When the Gym cleared out, Ash walked to the Pokémon Center, his hands tucked into his hoodie as Pikachu sat on his shoulder. Next to him, Lyra walked with a downturned expression, she had lost, completely destroyed in that battle.

Brock, Misty, Yellow, and Green followed not far behind, but Ash and Lyra actually needed to go to the Pokémon Center. So, unsurprisingly, Whitney also ran out, jumping and patting Ash on the shoulder on the way down.

"What a nice day! I lost, and I won, and now we get to go to the Pokémon Center," Whitney said happily as if Lyra wasn't literally depressed next to her.

"Right… anyway, you got any plans?" Green asked.

"I was gonna hit the road, duh. I mean, we've been here for like a week, and I wanna make some more ground before it starts getting cold," Ash said, which Brock agreed with.

"Aww, and I wanted to hang out more," Whitney pouted as they arrived at the Pokémon Center. Ash, Whitney, and Lyra handed over their Pokémon before sitting down at a table.

"Well, I guess you'll have Lyra around. She'll be pretty busy trying to get past you," Misty said as she sat down on the other side of the table.

"How are you?" Yellow asked Lyra, who had her head resting on the table.

"I'm fine… just thought I could get a little farther. Didn't think I'd lose to her first Pokémon," Lyra mumbled. "Ash made it look so easy."

"Yeah, welcome to the club. I've been feeling that way about everything involving this idiot since we were kids," Green said, crossing her arms. "Anyway, I got no plans on leaving anytime soon—Goldenrod is a goldmine for me."

"Yeah, yeah… so anyway, I guess this is where we split," Ash said, looking at Whitney with a little smirk. "So, now that I showed you what my Tauros can do, are you satisfied with your purchase?"

"Well, that depends… can I rent out that leader of yours?" Whitney returned the smirk.

"I'm sure we can arrange something. After all, I treat my business partners quite well," Ash said, holding out his hand. "So then, will you keep working with us?"

"Of course! After seeing what you can do, I don't think the rest can compete," Whitney said, shaking Ash's hand happily.

"I feel like we're out of place here…" Yellow said nervously.

"You think?" Misty said sarcastically.

Soon after, their Pokémon were healed, and they walked out of the Pokémon Center.

"I'm kinda hungry," Ash said first.

Brock nodded. "Yeah, same. I guess we could find a nice place around here somewhere."

Whitney clapped her hands. "Oh! How about I take you to taste Goldenrod's specialty?"

"Really? What's that? I'm curious," Misty asked.

"Grilled Miltank steak!" Whitney said casually, earning weird looks from everyone.

"Umm… Whitney…" Yellow mumbled, unsure if she should be the one to say something.

Whitney saw their expressions and pouted. "No, I'm not dumb. Of course, I know! Besides, they're not my Miltank. Of course, I still eat steak."

"Well… can't really argue with that logic," Ash shrugged. "Lead the way, oh… actually, I'm not gonna finish that sentence."

"Alright, I'll pretend I didn't hear that, but let's go," Whitney said happily. "Oh, and if you don't want to eat Miltank, they also have great sushi, Octillery rolls."

"I'm good," Yellow mumbled. It wasn't that she was against eating Pokémon, everyone did, it was normal, it was just that if she had to choose between eating Miltank or eating Octillery, she'd choose the steak. Her uncle Wilton had an Octillery she was attached to, after all.

—-

A few days later, they finally left Goldenrod after bidding farewell to everyone. Ash, Brock, Misty, and Yellow were back on the road, with their current goal being Ecruteak City, something Brock was especially excited about.

The festival was about to take place now that the season was changing, which also meant the Kimono Girls would be performing. Alongside that, the Eclipse Festival was being held, where they were introducing a new liege now that she had come of age.

On the way, they passed by the Bug Catching Contest, but Ash wasn't interested in participating, and Misty practically dragged them in the opposite direction as fast as she could. They did run into Casey again, but their meeting was brief before they moved on.

Not much of note happened on the road. They resumed training their Pokémon, and now that Vulpix was officially Brock's, he started training her too.

One day, they were sitting by the roadside, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon after eating lunch. As usual, Ash and Brock handled the cooking while Misty and Yellow did the cleaning.

Ash watched as Machamp sparred with Heracross, his hand still bandaged from the Raikou incident. Now that he had mastered Thunder Punch, he was beginning to get used to his newfound power.

Mastering a move was no small feat. Even Gym Leaders often had only a handful of Pokémon that had truly mastered their techniques. But that was part of the fun.

When a Pokémon mastered a move, it gained more than just a power boost—since there was no wasted energy, the attack became more efficient. But beyond that, a mastered move could be used in ways no one had ever seen before.

For instance, Machamp had mastered Thunder Punch after Raikou shot electricity into his arm. Now, he could strike with a force equivalent to what Raikou had hit him with. But Ash believed Machamp could do even more.

Learning this was much harder than creating combo moves, but it gave them freedom—the only limit was Ash's imagination and Machamp's willingness to train. Flying punches, lariats, even techniques inspired by Chidori—Ash was convinced that as long as Machamp could get used to his new power, they could create all kinds of unique attacks.

Ash shook his head. There was no point thinking too much about it now. Machamp was still recovering from his injuries, so he couldn't train at full strength anyway. But it was something to consider for the future, especially since Ash wanted more of his Pokémon to master their moves.

As he mulled this over, Brock sat nearby, brushing Vulpix after her training. He wasn't pushing her too hard, and as Ash watched, it made him think.

Originally, he had planned to give his own Vulpix to Brock once Brock returned this one, but now that wasn't an option.

That left Ash with four Fire types—Growlithe, Vulpix, Quilava, and Crocalor. He definitely didn't need four Fire-types on his main team. His best choice was to keep Vulpix on the bench and maybe use him later—perhaps in Hoenn or another region.

Ash nudged Brock. "You know, if you ever want to evolve her, just tell me. I can help you out."

"Thanks, but I'm still trying to decide that for myself," Brock admitted with a shrug. "Now that she's mine, I feel like I should still ask permission or something."

As Ash and Brock relaxed in the sun, Misty and Yellow finished cleaning up. They packed everything up and were about to start walking again when suddenly, an old man walking down the road stopped. His gaze was fixed on Ash's Machamp.

"Hello there, young ones. Whose Machamp is this?" he asked.

Ash raised his hand. "He's mine, sir."

The man nodded, looking pleased. "Hmm… well, he's very well trained."

Reaching into his sleeve, he seemingly pulled out a Poké Ball. "Would you mind if—"

But before he could finish his sentence, a loud stomping sound came from the trees, cutting him off.

Over by the mountain road, a Tauros was running in fear, its trainer chasing behind, panting heavily as he struggled to stop his rampaging Pokémon.

The old man looked like he was about to step in, but before he could, Ash simply snapped his fingers.

Machamp rolled his eyes, stepping forward and calmly extending his hand. As the bull charged, Machamp caught it effortlessly with his non-dominant hand. It was as if Tauros had slammed into a brick wall—except the "wall" didn't even budge.

With little effort, Machamp flipped Tauros onto its back, then walked over and handed the Pokémon back to its trainer. The stunned trainer stammered before quickly pulling out a Poké Ball and returning his Tauros.

"S-sorry! I was training, but a Beedrill came out of nowhere and stung my poor Tauros," he said sheepishly.

"Wonderful," the old man said, clapping his hands. "Very impressive. That Machamp of yours is exceptionally well trained."

Then, stroking his beard, he continued, "You know, if you're interested, I have a job for you. Would you like to follow me to my dojo?"

"Uhh… I think that's my cue to leave," the trainer said, bowing slightly in thanks before quickly making his exit. Meanwhile, Misty and Yellow walked over, listening in on the old man's words.

"Hey, isn't this kinda familiar?" Misty whispered.

"Yeah, it's kinda like what happened with Mr. Muramasa," Yellow whispered back.

As the old man continued speaking, Ash zoned out. A part of him wanted to decline outright—he had nothing to gain from going to this dojo. It would quite literally be a waste of a day.

But as soon as the old man said the word dojo, Machamp grabbed Ash's shoulder and shook him eagerly, nodding his head with excitement. He was still a battle junkie, after all, and visiting dojos was exactly the kind of thing he loved.

Hiding his annoyance, Ash sighed and agreed, following the old man through the forest until they arrived at a large dojo.

As they approached, they heard the rhythmic chanting of a group inside.

"One and two, and one and two!"

"What's that?" Yellow asked.

"That's my granddaughter Chigusa's foolish idea of Pokémon training," the old man, Kenzo, muttered bitterly as he pushed open the doors.

Inside, a girl with pink hair, dressed in a yellow exercise outfit, stood alongside a Hitmontop. Across from her, several trainers were engaged in synchronized movements with their Pokémon, Machop, Mankey, Hitmonchan, and others.

Chigusa was leading them through a routine that looked more like a dance recital than martial arts training.

Kenzo cleared his throat loudly, "Ahem!"

Immediately, the training stopped. The students turned to him, quickly lining up and bowing in unison, "Greetings, Master Kenzo!" they all said.

"Huh, Kenzo… I feel like I've heard that name before," Brock said, rubbing his chin.

"Oh! That might be because Grandfather is a former Elite Four member," Chigusa said proudly as she walked up to them.

"Wait, really?" Misty asked in surprise, looking at the old man next to her.

Kenzo nodded. "Yes, back in my prime, I was the Fighting-type Elite Four member. But that was a long time ago—I am not what I used to be."

"What are the odds? First Muramasa, and now this? Both of them are former Elite Four members and run a dojo…" Ash said, crossing his arms.

Kenzo's eye twitched. "Did you say Muramasa?" he asked, his voice laced with irritation as his hand clenched into a fist.

"Yeah, we stumbled upon his dojo a while ago. Why?" Ash asked, noticing the students cowering behind their Pokémon while Chigusa looked a little more nervous.

Kenzo scoffed. "Muramasa and I were both in the Elite Four… but now he is nothing more than my rival! He dares to think his dojo is superior? Ridiculous! Mine is far superior—just as I was! Don't tell me you are a part of his dojo," he said, glaring at Ash.

"No, I went there, beat up his son in a Pokémon battle, then left," Ash said casually.

Kenzo's expression relaxed slightly. "I see. Well, that is good," he said with a nod. "We have yet to settle our record. We battled many times, and before, we had planned for his son and Chigusa to face off to settle it. But if you defeated him, then that simplifies things."

"Um, Grandpa," Chigusa cut in hesitantly, "if you don't mind me asking… who are these people? Are they here to join the dojo? If so, I wouldn't mind taking on more students!"

Kenzo shook his head. "No. This is Ash, and I have chosen him to be my heir."

"EH?!" Chigusa, Brock, Misty, Yellow, and all the students shouted in unison.

Chigusa immediately objected. "Grandfather, you can't be serious! I'm the one taking over as Shihan of the dojo!"

Kenzo laughed. "Ha! I wouldn't dare let you take over, not with that ridiculous fighting style of yours. That's dancing, not fighting! It's useless in a real battle."

"Hey, don't I get a say in this?" Ash interjected—only to be completely ignored as Chigusa and Kenzo continued arguing.

Kenzo clapped Ash on the back. "Come now, show Chigusa your Machamp! Let her see real strength!"

Ash let out a heavy sigh. There was no point in resisting, so he grabbed a Pokéball and released Machamp. The towering fighting type materialized in front of everyone, immediately scanning the dojo with expectation.

Machamp looked around, expecting something similar to the dojo in Saffron—full of strong Pokémon and tough fighters. But what he saw was... disappointing.

Chigusa clenched her fists as she locked eyes with Machamp. His sheer presence was intimidating, but she refused to back down. "I'll show you that my fighting style is just as good as any other! Hitmontop, [Triple Kick]!"

Hitmontop leaped into the air, spun rapidly on his head, and delivered three consecutive kicks to Machamp.

Machamp didn't even flinch.

He blinked, then turned to Ash, pointing at Hitmontop in confusion as the small Pokémon continued attacking, Ash simply shrugged.

Machamp let out a sigh, and then, with a single punch, he slammed his fist downward. The impact sent Hitmontop straight into the dirt, burying his head like an ostrich. The battle was over in one hit.

"Hitmontop, no!" Chigusa cried, running over to pull her Pokémon's head out of the ground.

Kenzo placed his hands on his hips, laughing. "Ha! See? I told you! Your so-called 'technique' is no match for true strength!"

Ash rolled his eyes. He was just about to finally say no—that he had no intention of inheriting anything or becoming Shihan, when suddenly, a voice sent a shiver down his spine.

"Hey, you're as strong as ever. Good to see it," Ash froze, "I see Machoke evolved, too." That voice. That unmistakable voice.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly turned toward the dojo entrance.

And there she was, Bea, Standing at the door, waving at him with a giant smirk on her face, "Let's have our rematch!"