"Who did this? Step forward!"
Staring at the mess of food ingredients scattered before him, Ron questioned the three little culprits.
Upon hearing this, Larvitar turned to Riolu, who then looked at Froakie, leaving Froakie to glance helplessly at the air.
With no other option, Froakie once again deployed its signature pleading gaze, its large eyes shimmering with tears, using Baby-Doll Eyes on Ron.
"Lie down."
With a sigh, Ron uttered the phrase he'd repeated most often during this time.
As if accustomed to this routine, the trio obediently lay down, sticking their little rears up toward Ron.
Starting with the smallest, Froakie, Ron displayed his stern fatherly side.
A crisp sound echoed through the air. Froakie's eyes filled with tears again, but it stubbornly held them back without shedding a drop.
Determined to maintain its image in front of the younger Froakie, Riolu gritted its teeth and endured the punishment without letting a single tear surface.
As for Larvitar, Ron left its discipline to Machamp.
Although Ron's physical strength had indeed improved, the thought of striking the rock-hard armor covering Larvitar's body—and the recoil that would follow—quickly sapped his desire to act.
After the scolding, Ron comforted and educated the trio once more.
There was no helping it. They were his Pokémon—he couldn't simply abandon them.
Larvitar had always been relatively well-behaved, but since Riolu and Froakie had joined, their mischief had only increased, making Ron's lectures more frequent.
Once the scolding session ended, Ron began tidying up and preparing a hearty lunch.
At that moment, Ron truly understood what it meant to be a parent.
As the delicious aroma wafted through the air, the three little troublemakers behaved themselves, patiently waiting for Ron's cooking.
While Ron cooked, Machamp and the others continued their training.
Machamp, capable of using Moonwalk to soar into the air, unleashed shockwaves of Tempest Kick. However, Machamp still preferred the brute force of Finger Pistol and its derived techniques—those bone-crushing strikes were its favorite combat style.
Meanwhile, Persian's Tempest Kick technique was maturing. Like Machamp, Persian enjoyed close-range assassination techniques, savoring the thrill of dancing on the edge of a blade. It, too, preferred Finger Pistol over Tempest Kick.
Ron wasn't in a rush to create new skill combinations for them. As the saying goes: "Better to master one move than know a thousand poorly." Their current skill sets were already sufficient for battle, and learning too many techniques would only scatter their focus.
Among the team, Bellossom had recently broken through to High Elite level and fully mastered Iron Body, now beginning to train in Tempest Kick.
Nidoking, after learning Shave, Moonwalk, and Finger Pistol, found practicing Iron Body increasingly natural.
Ron couldn't help but imagine the day when some poor Pokémon would face Nidoking—only to discover that they couldn't match its speed, couldn't pierce its defense, and, to top it off, this Nidoking could fly.
Before long, the aroma of food filled the air. Ron called off the training, letting everyone enjoy a delicious lunch.
Afterward, it was time for a well-deserved rest. If not for the need for resources and the pressure from those people, Ron would have loved this peaceful lifestyle.
In quieter moments, he could seek out powerful wild Pokémon for exhilarating battles—but fate had other plans.
Awakening from his nap, Ron began weighted training.
With his Breathing Technique at its current stage, Ron could feel that he was just one step away from breaking through the final barrier, reaching the point where he could train in the Six Powers.
To achieve this goal, Ron silently increased his weights by another 20 pounds.
For Ron, under this level of burden, 20 pounds felt no lighter than a mountain.
Each step forward made his body hunch further. Soon, Ron was crawling on all fours, sweat pouring like a flood.
Clenching his teeth, Ron pushed himself to endure longer.
Sensing Ron nearing collapse, his dormant Fighting Aura prepared to circulate—but Ron suppressed it.
"Agh!"
Suddenly, for the first time since training began, Ron let out a cry. His sluggish movements abruptly turned agile.
Standing upright, Ron felt an unprecedented lightness, not even registering the pain from his bleeding fingers.
Without indulging in the euphoria of surpassing his limits, Ron silently adjusted his weights heavier still—using Fighting Aura to nourish his body while stabilizing his newfound state.
Half an hour later, Ron's eyes gleamed with excitement as he began practicing the Six Powers.
Despite his confident demeanor when teaching Machamp and the others, Ron couldn't help but feel a tinge of unease when it came to his own training.
Logically speaking, with his rapidly improving physical condition—both speed and strength—he was already at a superhuman level. Even the increasingly heavier Larvitar could be effortlessly cradled in his arms during playtime.
Yet, Ron still harbored doubts about whether he could truly master the Six Powers.
Under the watchful eyes of Machamp and the others, Ron adjusted his mindset and began his first attempt.
The first technique Ron chose to practice was Shave, the same move Machamp and the others had learned first.
Recalling his usual instructions to his Pokémon, Ron quickly stomped on the ground. On the seventh stomp, the recoil became uncontrollable, launching him forward.
Barely managing to halt his momentum, Ron immediately prepared for a second attempt.
With the experience from his first try, he increased the number of stomps to nine, then gradually more, until he stabilized at fifteen. However, he soon realized that changing direction mid-dash was becoming increasingly difficult.
Using Fighting Aura to dispel the soreness in his legs, Ron dove back into training.
It became clear to Ron that his limitations weren't due to physical constraints but rather a lack of control over the technique.
The only solution was relentless practice—gradually honing his proficiency.
Reflecting on the time it had taken Machamp and the others to learn Shave, Ron felt his own progress was already remarkably fast.
Meanwhile, Machamp and the others stopped observing and resumed their own training. Only Gardevoir remained vigilant, projecting her psychic power to monitor the surroundings—a multitasking feat.
Watching Ron dash around like a headless Dodrio was no small test of patience for Machamp and the others. Suppressing their laughter became its own challenge, forcing them to train further away from Ron.
Only the three little ones—Larvitar, Riolu, and Froakie—watched with great amusement, occasionally letting out hearty giggles.
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