After Eevee was sent to Professor Oak's laboratory, the communication signal suddenly broke off.

About ten minutes later, Timmy's parents rushed anxiously into the Pokémon Center.

"Timmy! Are you seriously injured?" his mother asked, her voice trembling with worry.

"Mom, I'm fine," Timmy replied quickly, raising his hands in reassurance. "Just a sprain. I'll be okay after a few days of rest."

His mother frowned, clearly not convinced. "No, you're going to the hospital later. I'm not taking any chances."

"Uncle," Gary said, stepping forward, "let's step outside and talk about the matter."

After all, Timmy was still a minor, and what had happened that day needed to be explained clearly to his guardian.

"Wife, take Timmy to the hospital first," Timmy's father said. "I'll talk to Gary."

"Okay, you two handle it," she agreed.

After speaking, Timmy's mother gently took Timmy's arm and led him from the Pokémon Center.

Once the door closed, Gary turned to Timmy's father—Mr. Fujimoto—and began recounting what had happened earlier.

When Gary reached the part about Team Rocket, Fujimoto's eyes widened in shock.

"What?! Team Rocket…!" he exclaimed. "That criminal organization again?! From what I've heard, they've become more dangerous these past few years."

Coming from the Kanto region himself, Fujimoto had long known of Team Rocket's dark reputation—smuggling rare Pokémon, abducting Trainers, and even attacking research facilities.

"Mr. Fujimoto, please don't worry," Gary said calmly. "I've already sent Eevee to Professor Oak. Team Rocket shouldn't trouble you further. Still, be cautious—contact the local police. My grandfather has already informed the Pokémon League about the situation, and the authorities will protect your family."

"I understand," Fujimoto nodded gravely. "It's a relief to know Eevee's safe with Professor Oak."

Though it was indeed troubling to have crossed Team Rocket, Gary's reassurance brought some peace to Fujimoto's heart. As long as Eevee wasn't with Timmy anymore, perhaps the villains would not pursue them.

"The League police will keep watch," Gary added with quiet confidence. "I doubt Team Rocket will act rashly now."

"You're a good boy, Gary," Fujimoto said sincerely. "And Timmy is a good child. I just hope my wife and I didn't panic too much earlier."

Gary smiled. "Don't worry, sir. Timmy only stumbled into bad luck today. None of this was his fault."

Fujimoto chuckled softly. "To be honest, you and Timmy aren't so far apart in age, but you carry yourself like a grown man. I appreciate your help."

"Then I won't bother you any longer. Please, go take care of Timmy," Gary said politely.

With everything explained, Fujimoto left the Pokémon Center to rejoin his family at the hospital.

Watching him go, Gary exhaled deeply, then turned to his Pokémon. "Eevee," he said with a grin, "looks like you've gained a little bonus this time!"

"Eevee? Vee-ee…? (Huh? Bonus? What do you mean?)"

Eevee blinked, tilting its furry head in confusion.

Gary laughed under his breath. "You saw that gadget attached to the other Eevee's ear, right? The one that allows evolution and reversion at will? I think that device could help you achieve true evolution someday."

"Vee…" Eevee's voice trailed with a soft, uncertain murmur. It remembered the unstable light from that artificial evolution process. Even though the machine was powerful, its side effects frightened it.

Noticing the little Pokémon's worry, Gary crouched down and reached out to pat its head. "Don't worry, buddy. I believe Grandpa Oak and Professor Blaine will unravel the mystery behind that device. Once they perfect it, you'll evolve safely—when you're ready."

"Eevee! Vee!" The little Pokémon's ears perked up. It nodded determinedly, trusting Gary completely.

"Alright, let's grab something to eat," said Gary, stretching and rubbing his stomach. "I've been busy all afternoon—it's already past eight, and I haven't had dinner!"

"Vee-veee!" Eevee replied cheerfully, hopping in circles. Its tail swished like a feathery metronome. It hadn't eaten either and was secretly delighted to hear "dinner."

The two companions left the Pokémon Center, steps in sync—Trainer and Pokémon, each smiling in quiet understanding.

The Next Morning

The golden sunlight of Kanto spilled through the curtains, painting the room in brilliance. Gary woke up early, finished breakfast, and prepared for another challenge.

At precisely nine o'clock, he took off toward the Battle Tower—riding high on his Charizard.

The great orange dragon soared through the skies south of Celadon City, where the Battle Tower stood proudly like a silver spear rising from a sea of green.

From above, Gary could see it glimmering in the morning light. "Alright, Charizard, let's go!"

"Rooaaar!" Charizard bellowed, wings slicing the air as it descended powerfully toward the Tower's entrance.

The automatic doors opened with a soft hiss as Gary stepped inside.

"You're right on time, Gary," said a familiar voice.

It was Scott, the sharp-eyed overseer of the Frontier facilities. He was seated comfortably in the reception hall, smiling as though he had been waiting for hours.

"Mr. Scott, you're here early?" Gary greeted politely.

Scott laughed. "You said you'd arrive at nine-thirty, but I've been here since eight!"

Gary raised an eyebrow, suspicious. Scott's smirk was just a little too self-satisfied to be believable.

The thought made Gary chuckle quietly—Scott was always exaggerating timing just to seem more responsible.

As the two chatted briefly, Scott's eyes caught the small brown fluff of fur perched comfortably on Gary's shoulder.

"Hey—Eevee?!" he blurted out, startled.

Gary grinned, lifting his partner from his shoulder. "That's right. This is my Eevee. I plan to use it in today's battle."

Scott laughed incredulously. "You're going to battle with Eevee? Now this I've got to see! I'm really looking forward to it."

"Vee!" Eevee puffed up its chest proudly, the little voice sharp and confident.

While most Trainers would have dismissed Eevee as too unevolved for competitive battles, Scott remembered Ash's Pikachu—who defied conventions entirely. A talented Trainer could bring out incredible potential in any Pokémon.

And Gary Oak, of all people, never did anything without purpose.

Still, Scott couldn't hide his curiosity. Just what kind of power has this Eevee awakened? he wondered.

"When can we start the battle?" Gary asked.

As soon as the words left his mouth, the heavy doors at the end of the hall opened—and a girl with short purple hair stepped through. Her posture was perfect, her gaze calm yet firm.

Although her attire leaned androgynous, her delicate features revealed her feminine grace.

"Ah, there she is," Scott said. "That's the Frontier Brain of Battle Tower—Anabel."

In the animated world, Anabel was often depicted as a young prodigy, maybe in her mid-teens. But here, her aura carried authority, confidence, and a maturity that seemed far beyond her years—a presence like a composed queen.

"Mr. Scott," Anabel said softly, turning her eyes toward him. "Is this the challenger you mentioned yesterday?"

"Yes," Scott replied quickly. "This is Gary Oak."

Gary barely had time to respond before Anabel's calm gaze locked onto him, evaluating.

"I'm Anabel," she introduced herself. "Battle Tower's Frontier Brain."

Gary nodded. "Nice to meet you, Anabel. I'm Gary, from Pallet Town. I've come to challenge the Battle Tower."

"Then," Anabel said with a faint smile, "shall we begin right away?"

"Absolutely," Gary replied.

"Follow me."

Anabel led Gary and Scott deeper into the Battle Tower. The interior gleamed with cutting-edge technology: glowing panels, glass elevators, and holographic displays showcasing Trainers and Pokémon statistics.

"This facility," Scott explained on the way, "was built specifically for Trainers to test their strength. Usually, challengers fight seven consecutive battles—earning Battle Points, or BP, along the way. These points can be exchanged for rare Pokémon items."

Gary listened attentively while Eevee's ears twitched with fascination at the clean hum of energy filling the air.

"Eee-vee! Vee, vee!" the little Pokémon chirped, clearly excited to explore.

"Yes, yes," Gary chuckled. "We'll check out the rewards after we win."

They reached the top floor—the Frontier Battle Arena—a vast chamber enclosed by a glass dome. Sunlight poured in from above, illuminating the glossy battlefield below.

Unlike the public stadiums filled with roaring spectators, this one was silent. Rows of empty seats lined the arena like watchful ghosts of past battles.

At the center of the field, the referee stood ready.

Gary and Anabel each took their place in the command areas.