Pokemon: The Legendary Trainer

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It wasn't until the early hours of the morning that Sato finally wrapped up his vigilante justice for the night. He removed the black cloak and mask from his body, then used Ditto's transformed human-skin mask to return to the Pokémon Center as if nothing had happened.

Afterward, he handed over Nidoking, Shiny Pelipper, and Heracross—who had battled many criminals' Pokémon that night—to Nurse Joy for treatment.

Once the three Pokémon had recovered, Sato left the Pokémon Center and took his team to a nearby late-night diner that was still open for a midnight meal.

"Everyone, eat to your heart's content. There's more if it's not enough. You all did really well tonight. But once you're full, get some early rest—we've got battle events tomorrow."

In the restaurant's private room, once all the dishes were served, Sato looked at his Pokémon, who were already drooling at the sight of the feast, and spoke with a smile. As soon as he finished, he was the first to grab a roasted chicken leg and bite in with satisfaction.

Seeing Sato start to eat, the other Pokémon joined in, digging into the delicious midnight spread. With Natu and Pichu, the usual mischief-makers, livening up the atmosphere, the room was soon filled with laughter and joy.

Sato was in high spirits. Cracking down on criminals not only gave him a legitimate outlet for the violent urges he had long suppressed, but it also allowed him to help others—a win-win outcome.

He had often seen heroes and vigilantes in anime and movies, but participating in such actions himself gave him a visceral understanding of what it felt like to be a real-life hero.

Sato had to admit: playing the role of a vigilante hero felt amazing—like taking a gulp of ice-cold watermelon juice under the blazing summer sun.

Maybe it was because he took down quite a few criminals that night—thirty-two in total—and rescued a good number of people and Pokémon, but he felt as though a righteous aura now radiated from his body.

At the same time, Sato confirmed something important: doing good deeds did help relieve the disturbance in his heart.

Moreover, the more good he did, the more he could feel the heavy pressure born from that grueling island survival gradually lifting.

'Maybe this is what peace of mind feels like. Back on that mysterious island, it was nothing but fighting, running and killing. It didn't feel like much at the time, but now that I think about it… that was probably because my heart had grown numb and desensitized through constant violence.'

'But saving others—saving lives—and receiving their sincere gratitude… that emotional tremor I felt from their heartfelt thanks was incredible. It made me feel alive again.'

Since returning from the mysterious island, Sato hadn't felt this relaxed—not even once. He was feeling a deep inner calm and comfort. As he mentally replayed the events of the night, a sigh of reflection escaped him.

He now somewhat understood: this disturbance inside him was like a layer of dust clouding his soul, constantly eating away at his humanity, threatening to turn him into a beast that only knew violence.

On the other hand, acts of kindness were like a cloth that could wipe away that mental grime—helping him reconnect with the warmth of life.

In summary, this act of cleansing his soul was kind of like a therapy. Sato realized he had to do meaningful things—genuinely beneficial things—to stir his heart and accelerate the recovery of his inner self.

"Maybe Professor Oak already knew the cure for my condition, but instead of telling me, he sent me to find the abbot at Slowpoke Monastery. There must be a quicker solution to the problem there. Once this battle event ends, I'll head to the monastery first thing."

"After all, even though I've got a six-month leave of absence, if I drag things out too long, Boss Giovanni might start thinking less of me. And if that happens, I'll lose the strong support I currently have."

As he thought this, Sato looked at the old Camphor-wood bracelet on his wrist and the white jade pendant around his neck, a thoughtful expression on his face.

Tomorrow's battle event at Goldenrod Department Store had already been scheduled—both time and opponent were confirmed. At 9:00 a.m. the next day, Sato would participate in the first round of the preliminaries at the city center's large-scale battle arena.

This time, the champion prize offered by Goldenrod Department Store had attracted a massive number of trainers. By the registration deadline, 2,421 trainers had signed up for the event.

Sato could already foresee: this battle event wouldn't be as easy as he had originally hoped. Even if there weren't any Elite-Four level trainers participating, there would undoubtedly be several powerful pseudo Elite-Four level trainers.

After all, with such a massive pool of 2,421 trainers, it was practically guaranteed that seven or eight pseudo Elite-Four level trainers would show up—especially in a global metropolis like Goldenrod City.

Over half an hour later, Sato and his now well-fed and content Pokémon left the restaurant and returned to the Pokémon Center for the night.

That night, Sato slept deeply and peacefully, not waking until the alarm clock called him out of bed.

It was a new day. Even with a match coming up, Sato didn't skip his Pokémon's morning physical training. However, to make it to the arena on time, he shortened the session by half an hour.

At exactly 8:50 a.m., Sato arrived at the now-crowded battle arena atop his Shiny Pelipper. With the help of a volunteer, he was led into a basic indoor battlefield within the large venue.

There, his opponent was already waiting—a buzz-cut young man in a black martial arts uniform, standing on the other side of the field with a towering Machamp at his side.

"You the punk I'm facing in Round One? Hah, lookin' pretty sharp. But do you have any idea who I am? I made top eight in this year's Johto League. Not even bragging—if my luck hadn't sucked just a bit, I would've made top four."

"Bet you're scared now, huh? If you don't want your Pokémon getting beaten black and blue—or worse, breaking a few bones—I suggest you forfeit right now. Bwahaha!"

"And remember the name of the guy who's gonna crush you: Junichiro Kimura, baby!"

The buzz-cut youth locked eyes with Sato, posture arrogant and cocky. His tone was loud, brash, and oozing self-importance.

Judging by the cheering crowd behind him—also dressed in martial arts uniforms—it was clear he wasn't bluffing. His fans erupted the moment he declared his identity, shouting his name in unison like a sports chant.

In that moment, the battlefield felt like it was his home turf.

"Top eight in the Johto League, huh? Looks like I got lucky. Starting off with someone actually worth fighting."

"Nice to meet you. Name's Kira Hayashi—the guy who's going to beat you."

Facing the arrogant challenge from Kimura, Sato—wearing Ditto's human-skin mask—remained calm. He slowly walked to his side of the battlefield, picked up a PokeBall, and pointed it toward the buzz-cut fighter, his voice tinged with subtle disdain.