Chapter 7: Soaring Higher

"I'm not," Hu Yang replied, momentarily stunned by the question before realizing its implication. In this world, countless professions had arisen around Pokémon. Besides trainers aiming for the League, there were also coordinators pursuing the Grand Festival, breeders, Pokémon doctors, researchers, rangers, and many more.

The trainer's job was straightforward: train Pokémon and lead them in constant battles. In contrast, the breeder's role was far more complex. As the name implied, breeders were dedicated to raising the finest Pokémon. This went beyond just feeding—they had to consider every aspect of their charges' daily lives.

Thus, compared to trainers, being a breeder was a much more demanding and specialized profession. As Brock once remarked in the animated series, the role of a breeder encompassed many fields. Making Pokémon food was only the most basic of their tasks. In the games, breeders were depicted as those who could discern a Pokémon's innate talents and, through careful nurturing, help each one reach its greatest potential.

This was precisely why breeders were so respected and in high demand. Yet behind their seemingly all-encompassing skills lay knowledge of nutrition, medicine, botany, pharmacy, and more. For an ordinary person starting from scratch, merely earning the title of novice breeder would be an achievement in itself—let alone becoming an elite breeder who ran a nursery and provided services to trainers.

Of course, this didn't mean breeders were superior to trainers. Human energy was finite; those who specialized in breeding might lack battle command skills, while those who focused on training might not match breeders in raising Pokémon. Still, it was clear that the very best trainers were also exceptional at nurturing their teams.

Upon hearing Hu Yang's answer, the examiner's disappointment was clear—perhaps he'd expected too much. As the first candidate to complete the second assessment, Hu Yang was naturally the first to enter the final testing room.

The final stage was an interview. As Hu Yang stepped inside, he saw three people already seated behind the lectern. In the center sat an elderly man with graying hair and spectacles, who looked surprised to see such a young boy walk in first. Beside him, a female teacher in professional attire hesitated for a moment before asking, "Did you come to the wrong classroom, little one?"

Hu Yang was speechless. "...No, I didn't." The teacher opened her mouth as if to say more, then glanced uncertainly at the elderly man. "Headmaster, what should we do?"

Eiji Kiriyama, the principal of this Pokémon elementary school, studied the boy standing before him and replied, "Proceed as usual." The teacher nodded and explained the interview rules to Hu Yang. "For this part, you may draw a question from this lottery box and share your thoughts on it. We'll judge your suitability as a teaching candidate based on your response."

This test was designed to assess logical thinking and on-the-spot reactions. Hu Yang had no objection. He walked forward, reached into the box, and soon drew out a red capsule. Inside was a slip of paper with a question.

Question: How do you view the behavior of wild Braviary pushing young Rufflet off cliffs until they learn to fly?

Hu Yang paused. This reminded him of the eagles in his previous world. In nature, eagles would push their young from high cliffs, forcing them to learn to soar—or else fall to their deaths. If the eaglets failed to fly during the fall, they would perish on the rocks below.

After organizing his thoughts, Hu Yang began, "I believe this is the fundamental law of survival in nature."

The female teacher nodded reflectively. "Go on."

Hu Yang, unsure of the exact habits of Braviary in this world, continued with the eagle analogy: "First, we must understand the consequences if Rufflet can’t learn to fly. For flying-type Pokémon, that's essentially losing the ability to care for themselves. In such cases, they can't forage or survive on their own; everything would depend on their father, Braviary. But Braviary can't care for them forever.

"In the harsh wilds, danger lurks at every moment. If trouble comes when Braviary isn’t there, only death awaits Rufflet. Nature is a cruel place—survival of the fittest. So, Braviary must do this, and there is no other way."

The three examiners exchanged looks. The female teacher on the left frowned, the principal in the center looked pleased, and the male teacher on the right seemed deep in thought.

The female teacher was the first to raise a question: "Don't you think that's rather cruel?"

Hu Yang offered a modest smile. "But there is no second path for them. Only by this method can Rufflet hope to fly higher and farther in the future."

She could find no words to refute him.

Sensing the moment, Hu Yang added, "Of course, this is the explanation one might give to adults. For children, it might be too harsh—so in that case, we should focus more on the aspect of paternal love in the story."

There was no need to elaborate further; everyone present understood.

There was a strange look on the teacher’s face as she asked, "You seem very young."

Hu Yang paused. "…I only look young. I’m actually sixteen."

In this world, sixteen was considered the threshold of adulthood for boys. Many amateur trainers retired at that age as well. The teacher reluctantly accepted this explanation.

At this point, Principal Kiriyama repeated the phrase "survival of the fittest" with a satisfied smile. "That’s a perfect answer. Congratulations—you’ve passed the assessment. If your first two tests are in order, you will be offered the position."

"Principal…" The female teacher looked at the old man in shock. She wanted to object—it wasn't according to protocol, and his age was an issue—but before she could speak, he cut her off.

As if reading her mind, Principal Kiriyama said, "Age is not a problem. Nor is education. I only need to know that he has ability and kindness toward children. Those two things alone make him more suitable than many others."

He turned to Hu Yang. "May I ask why you chose our school?"

Hu Yang hesitated. "To make a living, I suppose?"

The female and male teachers exchanged baffled glances.

Principal Kiriyama, however, frowned as he glanced at the boy's plainly made, rough clothes—cheap items bought from a street stall, no doubt. "Do you have any family?"

Hu Yang felt a little awkward. "They’ve passed away."

He repeated the story he’d told to Officer Jenny, even adding some extra details: for instance, that his nonexistent parents had been knowledgeable Pokémon scholars, and he'd learned by their side from a young age—that was why he knew so much.

The three interviewers sighed. The female teacher, indignant, said, "What irresponsible parents!"

Principal Kiriyama could only sigh in sympathy.