"Why would I want to?" asked Ash/Ranma, who had no intention of being a dojo destroyer or something.
"Better recognition, access to equipment, training for your pokegirls," began Brock, ticking off points with his fingers.
"Nah, I think I'll just stick with the Explorers," said Ash. "Just ain't my style. If I retire, I might consider it then. Or Monday Night Pokebowl or whatever."
Unsaid was that Explorer Corps who retired were often forced into it by injuries. Both of them knew that accidents happened out in the wilderness and a lot of Explorers just vanished without a trace.
"If nothing else, you should consider a third just to be able to handle some of the challenges out there," pointed out Brock. "A Flying type to get you over obstacles, a Ground type or Fighting type with the greater strength to be able to clear rockslides and things like that."
"Yeah, I see your point," admitted Ash/Ranma. After all, anyone who relied on a single martial arts manuever eventually got beaten by someone who could counter that manuever. "Hey! Check out these books!"
"Hmmm? 'Fighting Techniques Per Species'?" asked Brock.
"It's got martial arts stuff for them Fighting Types," said Ash, flipping through it with evident interest. He put it in the basket as soon as he got to the part about Fire Types.
Ash was known in his town. Many who considered him a shrimp and a loser would have been shocked to hear that he had a unique pokegirl like Misty.
There were those who'd bullied him for years while he was growing up, him being short and not the most athletic of individuals, that and having a stubborn streak where he just wouldn't stay down. Gary, for example. Even Hikaru Gosunkugi had disdained the runt, and the gothic girl hadn't exactly been Miss Popularity herself.
There were those who might have admired his stubborn streak and called it something else, but those kept it quiet. No point in stirring up larger predators.
There was the massive slab of meat and gristle known as Bart. Big and tough as a kid, left behind three grades and struggling to keep from making it four, mean and ornery. Someone nobody expected anything good to come from.
There was Gary of course, the grandson of a famous researcher who expected fame and fortune of his own.
There were others. No friends but lots of tormentors.
In this case, tracking down the runt to take that fire/water type off his hands was:
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(Posted Wed, 04 Oct 2006 09:40)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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