Rumors about "the Gastly from Venue 7" and its mystery Trainer were still making the rounds in Trainer circles. Some claimed it was some big-name figure who'd just caught a Gastly and entered a rookie tournament purely to grind it up. Others figured the whole thing was overhyped — its first opponent had probably just been weak. A few were convinced it was nothing but a publicity stunt cooked up by the organizers.
Whatever the truth was, the buzz kept the Piplup Cup's attention numbers climbing — which suited the supervisor behind the whole idea just fine.
To get ready for the group stage, Gastly trained relentlessly, day after day. The system's Pokédex confirmed it hadn't picked up any new moves yet, but it had already worked through everything Blue's Breeding Manual had to offer. Anything beyond that would have to wait until it evolved into Haunter.
Meanwhile, as the "Substitute Protect Toxic" and "Minimize Team" videos kept spreading, Luke's stream officially cracked one hundred thousand subscribers.
[Ding — Quest "I'm Not a Looks-Based Streamer" complete!]
[Objective: Hit the small milestone of 100,000 subscribers]
[Reward: 1000 BP, 1x Random Skill (Lv1), 1x TM: Substitute]
[Cooking Lv1: Improves your cooking, including knife skills and heat control. (Your food will taste like someone actually loves you.)]
Luke had been living on takeout, so the cooking skill would at least upgrade his diet occasionally. The real prize was a small gray USB drive — a TM for Substitute, packed with usage guides, training methods, and practical breakdowns for different Pokémon. With a proper TM, most simple moves could be picked up in as little as three days. TMs were reusable, and technically copyable, but pirated copies floating around the black market were notorious for missing or garbled data. As the old saying went — don't cut corners on your kid's education, and don't cut corners on your Pokémon either. Genuine TMs commanded a premium for exactly that reason.
Most Trainers sat down and studied alongside their Pokémon, working out the most efficient training method together. Luke's approach was simpler: he tossed the drive at Gastly. "Figure it out. Ask me if you're stuck."
"Kojie?"
Startled, Gastly took the drive gingerly, plugged it into the laptop, and started scrolling with its tongue. It opened a file labeled #092 Gastly and settled in to study, fully focused.
In the training video, a Gastly split its Haze into two clouds — one large, one small — slowly forming a second grinning double of itself. Once that double soaked up an incoming hit, it faded away, slightly paler than before.
"Kojie!" Gastly nodded along, satisfied. So that's why Master just told me to watch and figure it out myself. This is easy. No reason to bother him.
Its mind started running ahead of itself. It grabbed a pencil in its mouth and began scratching notes onto a blank sheet of paper.
I could chain Will-O-Wisp behind a Substitute. Or use it to bait the enemy in, then sneak a hit in from the side. Or—
Before it knew it, the whole page was covered. Gastly sat back, pencil still clenched in its teeth, looking distinctly worse for wear.
Turns out this move is actually really hard.
Should I just go ask Master after all? Or is there some better angle I haven't thought of yet?
It took a breath, rolled two orange-hued berry blocks into its mouth with its tongue, and chased them down with a can of moomoo milk.
Gastly: (￣～￣) chomp
Its eyes lit right back up, fighting spirit fully restored. Recharged. Back to work.
That night, Luke's stream absolutely blew up — for two reasons. First, it was his first broadcast since the Minimize Team video went viral. Second, it was his first-ever face reveal, and his viewer count blasted past a million almost the moment the camera turned on.
On screen sat a young man with sharp, striking features and deep-set eyes, chin resting on one hand as he studied the game menu — the kind of androgynous good looks that could stop a scroll dead in its tracks.
Then Teacher Luke opened his mouth, and the peaceful mood shattered instantly.
"You want to Snarl me? Fine — Incineroar, Snarl right back!"
"How does that MISS?! I am actually going to lose it!"
For the rest of the stream, Teacher Luke gave the audience a masterclass in bad luck. His reads were flawless, his calls were sharp — and his moves kept whiffing anyway. Meanwhile his opponent landed one lucky crit after another and strung together three Protects in a row, much to the chat's delight.
"I genuinely cannot eat any more of this."
"Are you serving us the whole tasting menu right out of the gate?"
"This wave — oh, this wave is a full-on assault on my stomach."
By the end of the night, Luke's ranking had actually dropped. The chat, meanwhile, was having the time of its life — laughter and chaos wall to wall. Despite the on-screen disaster, it turned out to be the highest-earning, highest-engagement stream he'd ever run.
Luke, deeply weary, finally cracked. "Please. Stop sending gifts. I mean it."
"...Thanks to 'Teacher Luke's Face Fan Club' for the rocket. Mods, go ahead and ban that one."
"How many times do I have to say it — I am a technical streamer!"
He signed off thoroughly humiliated, but the numbers didn't lie: close to $700 in donations in one night, and BP up by over 300.
[Remaining BP: 1780]
In theory, the ten-pull pool had all kinds of things in it — Pokémon items, sure, but also things like Lego Star Destroyer sets or life-size Snorlax pillows. In practice, every single pull Luke ever made somehow ended up benefiting Gastly, and this one was no exception.
[Pull results: Petaya Berry ×1, Mental Soda ×2, Leppa Berry ×4, Moomoo Milk ×3]
Only one purple-tier Petaya Berry this time, but since a single Petaya Berry ran 500 BP in the system shop anyway, it still counted as a win. Mental Soda turned out to be a carbonated drink — tasted a lot like what internet slang affectionately called "happy juice," basically glorified soda. Leppa Berries, meanwhile, were in constant demand: they eased a Pokémon's fatigue after using moves, which meant longer, more efficient training sessions. Every serious Trainer kept a stash.
"Turn these into Pokéblock and it should help with Gastly's fatigue," Luke muttered to himself.
He stepped out of the streaming nook to find Gastly still hunched over its notes, pencil in mouth, deep in concentration. It looked up at him slowly, pale, offering a weak but determined smile.
"Whoa — you're pushing yourself way too hard."
"Kojie~~!!" Gastly's eyes went wide, veins of red creeping into them.
With a low Growl, a chill mass of gas split off from its Haze, slowly solidifying into a second grinning Gastly. This one didn't fade after taking a hit, though — it sank into the shadows and stayed there, hovering like a sentinel.
Catching Luke's startled look, Gastly flashed a knowing, faintly unsettling grin.
At that exact moment, the Substitute lurking in the shadows lit up with a burst of Confuse Ray.
"That's—" Luke swallowed. "That's a Substitute-triggered counterattack?"