He slammed the table hard, drawing everyone's attention back:
"Alright, alright, save the reminiscing for later! Today's theme is drinking! Ariel, these old buddies of mine have a decent capacity for alcohol, so you better watch yourself, kid!"
Mr. Moore slammed a large wine bowl in front of Ariel with a "thud," the strong liquor splashing over the rim:
"Kid, don't listen to Drake's bragging! Come, have a drink with this old man first!"
The atmosphere at the dining table was instantly ignited.
This was no longer a meeting between seniors and juniors, but a pure contest between men.
Ariel turned no one away.
These were legendary figures; being able to accompany them to their heart's content was also an honor.
He picked up the wine bowl and drained it in one gulp.
The pungent liquid slid down his throat, burning like a ball of fire in his stomach.
"Good!"
Mr. Moore shouted loudly in approval.
The scene that followed gradually spiraled out of control.
The first to fall was Dan. One second he was bragging about how he could use Pidgeot to carry a wine barrel and drink at an altitude of ten thousand meters, and the next second he face-planted onto the table, snoring like thunder.
Then it was Katsuya. This former Psychic Elite tried to use mental power to break down the alcohol, but the more mental power he used, the faster he got drunk. In the end, he was hugging a wine jug and began to ponder the ultimate mysteries of life.
Mr. Moore and Juan, those two old rivals, went head-to-head. One was like a furnace, the other like the deep sea. Their wine bowls clattered together until finally, both collapsed drunk—one slumped on the table shouting for more, the other lying on the floor saying he wanted to transform into water.
In the wooden cabin, only two people remained seated.
Ariel and Drake.
Drake's face was already as red as a cooked shrimp, and his eyes were a bit unfocused, but he still held on, pointing at Ariel with a slurred tongue:
"Ki... kid, last time in the Big Eater competition, it was my narrow victory. Today... today at the drinking table, I won't go easy on you!"
This scene was very much like the final showdown of the Big Eater competition back then.
Ariel looked at the old man before him, who was as stubborn as a child, and felt a wave of amusement.
He picked up the full bowl of wine in front of him; this was the last one.
Drake also tremblingly picked up his own wine bowl.
Ariel tilted his wrist slightly, and just as the wine bowl was about to reach his lips, his hand "inadvertently" shook, spilling most of the wine onto his shirt.
He sighed in frustration, finished the small remaining portion of wine, then placed the empty bowl on the table and said with a wry smile:
"Senior Drake, you win. I admit defeat."
Drake didn't notice this detail at all. Seeing Ariel admit defeat, he immediately burst into a roar of victorious laughter, drained the wine in his bowl, gave a long howl toward the sky, and then fell straight backward, crashing onto the floor and instantly falling into a dead sleep.
Ariel looked at the five legendary figures sprawled about, as well as that Salamence hugging a wine jug and sleeping soundly, and shook his head helplessly.
He stood up and stretched his limbs. The alcohol was kicking in, but his mind remained clear.
...
The next day.
Just as dawn was breaking, a roar that could pierce through clouds and split rocks shattered the morning's tranquility.
"Awoooo—!!!"
The sound was like a physical shockwave, making the wooden cabin's windows buzz.
Ariel suddenly sat up in bed. The hangover-induced headache hadn't faded yet, and he was left dazed by this massive roar.
What was that noise? Are wild Pokémon attacking?
He rushed out of the cabin and saw Drake standing on a rock outside, facing the rising sun, focusing his breath, looking refreshed.
"Senior Drake, you are..."
Drake looked back at him and said with a voice full of vigor:
"Cultivating my character."
Ariel's eye twitched.
You call this cultivating your character?
This is clearly noise pollution.
He looked around; the inside and outside of the cabin had been cleaned up. The former Elites who were lying all over the floor last night were nowhere to be seen, as if the drinking session last night was just a dream.
"They've already left."
Drake jumped down from the rock, stretching his wrists.
"They're all busy people; they don't have time to stay here forever."
His sharp gaze fell on Ariel. The drunkenness from last night had vanished, replaced by a scrutinizing look.
"Kid, the warm-up is over."
Drake's tone was very calm, but it made Ariel feel an invisible pressure.
"From today on, I will be conducting special training for you."
Drake stared at Ariel. What he wanted to see was not just Ariel's battle techniques or the strength of his Pokémon.
What he wanted to see was this young man's true nature.
When he investigated Ariel's background last time, that resume was unnaturally clean, like a piece of white paper that had been carefully wiped, without any blemishes. This in itself was the biggest suspicion.
This knot had always been in Drake's heart.
But last night, Mr. Moore, Katsuya, Juan, and Dan—his four eccentric and arrogant old friends—had all shown their approval of Ariel without exception.
Gaining the approval of all four of them at once was no easy feat.
Drake looked at the young man before him with clear eyes and an upright posture. His professional vigilance and his admiration as an elder were intertwined.
"I hope... it's just my imagination."
He murmured softly, almost inaudibly even to himself.
Drake first asked Ariel if he had any experience participating in major tournaments.
Ariel shook his head.
His movement was very slight, but Drake's gaze never left him, as if trying to see through him completely from inside out.
"The Ever Grande Conference,"
Drake's voice wasn't loud, but it was like a sea breeze carrying grit, somewhat abrasive to the ears.
"A grand event open to Trainers all over the world. As long as you have eight badges, whether they're from Kanto, Johto, or Sinnoh, you can come and join the fun."
He paused, seemingly organizing his words or observing Ariel's reaction.
"The Champion's trophy is very beautiful, and you can also gain the qualification to challenge us Hoenn Elite Four and the Champion."
The corner of Drake's mouth twitched. It didn't look like a smile, but more like a sneer.
"Of course, you can just listen to those things for fun. The conference limits strength; the level of Pokémon cannot exceed Gym Leader Level, which is below Quasi-Elite. For you little guys, it's considered fair."
Drake's tone was as flat as if he were talking about something that had nothing to do with him.
"Besides, the Elite and Champion are still far away from you."
Ariel listened quietly without interrupting.
He knew these introductions were just appetizers; the real main course was yet to come.
Sure enough, Drake changed the subject.
"You'll naturally find out the specific rules when the time comes. What I want to tell you now is another matter."
In his slightly cloudy eyes, something settled.
"The Ever Grande Conference is not as fair and square as what you see on TV."
Ariel's brow twitched slightly, waiting for him to continue.
"Open and secret struggles, intrigues and Nasty Plot. As long as it's in the gray area of the rules, there are always people who will use any means necessary."
Drake's voice dropped a few octaves, sounding somewhat cold.
"Kid, let me ask you, if during the preparation phase before the match, you were ambushed, your Pokémon's condition declined, or you yourself were even unable to take the field. You know who did it; what would you do?"
Here it comes.
Ariel's heart skipped a beat.
This was a trap, a verbal trap specifically set for him.
What was Drake testing?
His bottom line? Or his true nature?
Ariel's mind raced.
He certainly knew what the most direct and effective approach was.
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