The tutoring building looked like the kind of place you passed by three times before realizing it was open for business.
Wedged between a tired Poké Mart and a battered gear shop, the only sign it had was a half-lit board that just said Move Assistance Center in flickering green letters.
Orion didn't bother hesitating.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The air hit him first—dust, old wood, sharp cleaner sting underneath.
The scuff of dozens of training battles was still visible across the floor.
No welcome desk.
No fancy holograms.
Just mats, old lockers, and a few half-charged datapads.
A wiry man behind the counter barely glanced up.
"Appointment?"
"Orion. Leech Seed training for Grotle."
The man tapped a screen and nodded toward a side mat.
"Room Two. Pay after. Trainer assist if necessary."
Orion moved through without another word, Luxio pacing behind him like a silent bodyguard.
A woman was already waiting on the mat—early thirties, sharp-cut features, hair buzzed short at the sides.
Scars traced the backs of her knuckles.
No flash.
No smiles.
Good.
"You're the Grotle?" she asked, cutting to the point.
Orion tossed Grotle's Poké Ball into the air, releasing him in a low flare of green light.
Grotle landed with a heavy thump, blinking once at the unfamiliar walls.
The woman didn't react.
"Sierra," she said. "You stay quiet unless I call you in."
Orion crossed his arms but nodded.
Sierra knelt down and placed a flat hand on the training mat, energy pulsing out in a low shimmer.
"This isn't about entangling," she said, voice clipped. "It's about siphoning."
She pointed to a battered wooden dummy placed against the mat.
"Leech Seed isn't a rope. It's a living thing. You plant it once—and it feeds itself."
She drove a small pulse of green energy into the floor.
Tiny vines erupted from under the dummy's feet—snagging around its base. Not squeezing.
Settling.
Sierra stood back.
Within seconds, the vines shimmered faintly, absorbing light in thin pulses, like breathing.
"You force your energy into the enemy and anchor it. Then you let the vines do the real work—siphoning strength from them. Stealing while you fight."
Grotle rumbled deep in his chest.
Orion watched intently.
"Your turn," Sierra said.
Grotle lowered his head and pushed—but too much raw energy spilled out.
The mat rippled slightly, but no vines, no latch, no absorption.
Sierra shook her head.
"You're flooding the ground. Leech Seed's not about drowning the enemy. It's about making them feed your strength without realizing it."
She flicked her fingers at Orion.
"Tell him. He's reading you."
Orion crouched low near Grotle's massive head.
"You're not crushing anything," he said, voice low and sharp. "You're farming them. Plant once. Harvest later. Let them bleed without noticing."
Grotle's nostrils flared.
The second attempt was closer.
Thin tendrils of green snaked out of the mat—slower, hesitant.
Not aggressive enough yet.
Orion tapped the mat sharply.
"Faster. Grab. Feed."
Grotle rumbled—and this time, when the vines snapped around the base of the dummy, Orion could feel the difference.
The vines anchored, not to strangle—but to drain.
The dummy creaked under the tension, the thin shimmer of energy visibly pulsing down the green lines.
Primitive.
Messy.
But real.
Sierra nodded once.
"Good enough to start. Drill it until it's muscle memory. Reaction speed beats thinking every time in the field."
She keyed in the session completion on her datapad.
Orion didn't argue.
He transferred the 6,500₽ payment without complaint—essentials were essentials.
"Keep practicing off-mat," Sierra added, voice curt. "The first seed's the easy one. It's sticking the second that separates dead kids from veterans."
Orion clipped Grotle's ball back to his belt and left without needing a dismissal.
Luxio fell into step automatically.
The city noise crashed into him again—street vendors howling about limited-time sales, trainers squabbling over the results of matches.
Orion tuned it out.
One tutoring session down.
Real growth started now.
He scratched behind Luxio's ear as they crossed the street.
"One leech planted," he muttered. "Now we make it a forest."
Luxio gave a low crackle of agreement.
The streets stretched wide ahead of them, gleaming under the heavy iron scent of a coming storm.
And they still had miles to burn before they were ready.