Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

On a sunlit country road, an aged bus trundled slowly along the dusty path.

In the nearby fields, curious Poochyenas occasionally poked their heads out, their twitching noses catching unfamiliar scents in the air, their attention drawn to this creaky, ancient bus that seemed to have traveled this road for decades.

Overhead, Pidgeys spread their wings wide, basking in the sunlight.

The villagers working in the fields, noticing the Poochyenas' behavior, briefly glanced at the bus. However, they quickly lost interest, as if a passing stranger was hardly worth their attention.

Maybe a newcomer had arrived, but he didn’t have the time to care about such things now.

With the harvest season in full swing, his focus was entirely on the crops.

If there really were outsiders, news would spread quickly in this small town.

After all, nothing much ever happened here.

Inside the bus, a boy named Natsume gazed silently out the window, watching the scenery pass by.

If everything went as expected, this small town would be where he’d spend the next several years of his life.

A few months ago, Natsume unexpectedly learned that he had inherited a farm from an uncle he’d barely met.

For Natsume, who had lived in this world for 18 years, it was a startling turn of events.

His previous life as an overworked corporate drone was one thing, but even in this life, his family situation could hardly be called harmonious.

If anything, he was practically alone in the world.

An engineer father and a breeder mother had tragically passed away during their honeymoon, leaving Natsume to fend for himself.

This kind of backstory would make him a top-tier antihero in any dystopian universe.

“We’ve arrived,” came the creaking voice of the elderly driver as the bus screeched to a stop at a crossroads.

Disembarking, Natsume looked around in slight bewilderment, clutching an incubator holding a Pokémon egg while a crossbody bag hung over his shoulder.

He seemed completely out of place amidst the rustic scenery.

Just as Natsume was about to take out his phone, an elderly yet energetic voice called out:

“Are you Natsume?”

Turning around, Natsume saw a lively old man with white hair standing at the crossroads.

“Yes, that’s me. And you are?”

The old man, accompanied by a Mr. Mime, smiled warmly and replied, “I’m the mayor of this town. Your farm isn’t far from here. I’ll take you there.”

After pulling out his phone and comparing Natsume’s appearance to a photo, the mayor confirmed his identity with a cheerful grin.

Natsume quickly stepped forward. “Thank you so much for the trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” the mayor waved dismissively, his friendly smile never faltering.

“I’ve heard a bit about your situation. You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you? Don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything. Though the farm’s been abandoned for a while, it should still be livable.”

The mayor chatted nonstop as they walked, his Mr. Mime occasionally chiming in with expressive gestures.

Maybe it was just a trait of the elderly—once they started talking, their desire to share stories became unstoppable.

Whether it stemmed from years of experience or genuine care for the younger generation, the mayor’s words were filled with advice and anecdotes.

Natsume learned a lot along the way, particularly about the state of his inherited farm.

It had been neglected for years due to his uncle’s failing health. In its later years, the farm had been left to grow wild, practically indistinguishable from the surrounding wilderness.

“If anything,” the mayor remarked with a chuckle, “the wilderness might even look a bit better.”

‘Why does this feel like I’m heading into a detective novel?’ Natsume mused. ‘Then again, I’ve never heard of a certain pint-sized detective bringing misfortune to his relatives.’

Brushing off his wandering thoughts, Natsume refocused on the mayor’s words.

“I must say, I’m surprised you’re willing to take on the farm,” the mayor said. “Young people these days all dream of becoming famous Pokémon Trainers, chasing adventure and glory. Even those with family businesses rarely stick around.”

“I considered becoming a Trainer at first, but in the end, I decided to take over the farm.”

Natsume offered a small smile, choosing not to elaborate further.

Here’s the truth: becoming a Pokémon Trainer is expensive. Extremely expensive.

The cost of Pokémon food, training facilities, medical care—it all adds up to an overwhelming expense.

While Natsume had some savings, it wouldn’t last long if he pursued a Trainer’s path. And success was far from guaranteed.

Becoming a strong Trainer required not just money but also exceptional Pokémon.

Sure, people liked to say, “There are no bad Pokémon, only bad Trainers,” or point out how Giovanni’s Beedrill was incredibly powerful.

But in reality, under equal training and resources, a Dragonite would utterly dominate a Beedrill.

Taking over the farm, on the other hand, felt far more practical and reliable.

Beyond that, the decision also reflected Natsume’s own personality.

Once the farm was up and running, he could enjoy a relaxed life, maybe even travel the world.

It didn’t sound so bad.

And why was Natsume so confident he could restore the farm? He had his reasons.

“We’re here,” the mayor said as they stopped at a fork in the road.

Following the mayor’s gaze, Natsume saw…

A desolate landscape overgrown with weeds and scattered with jagged rocks.

Even the local Rattatas seemed to avoid the area.

Though he’d braced himself for the worst, the sight still left Natsume momentarily stunned.

“Don’t be discouraged,” the mayor said, trying to reassure him. “The original layout is still intact, at least.”

Beside him, Mr. Mime gestured enthusiastically, as if trying to stage a comedic pantomime to lighten the mood.

To be honest, even the mayor felt a bit awkward.

For a young man, this would be a tough sight to face—a scene as disheartening as declaring your love for a celebrity one day, only for them to announce their engagement the next.

“It’s fine, Mayor. I came prepared for this,” Natsume replied, snapping out of his daze.

While the situation was a bit unexpected, Natsume remained confident.

“Come on out, everyone.”

With a tap on his Poké Balls, three brilliant beams of light erupted, and three figures emerged.

Chapter Text

A flash of white light burst forth, and three figures emerged from it.

"Persian, Butterfree, Rookidee, come and check out our new home," Natsume said with a smile as he withdrew his hand.

Among these three Pokémon, Persian had been left to him by his parents—a companion that had been by Natsume's side since childhood.
Butterfree was caught by Natsume himself during high school, intended to serve as both an assistant and a utility Pokémon.
As for Rookidee, it had been gifted to him upon graduation, meant to be trained as his main partner.

Including the incubator he carried in his arms, Natsume currently owned four Pokémon in total.

After being released from their Poké Balls, the three Pokémon each reacted differently.

Persian gracefully stretched its body upon landing, elegantly walking over to sit at Natsume's feet, looking utterly disinterested in its so-called "new home."
In contrast, Butterfree and Rookidee seemed brimming with curiosity about their surroundings.

Especially Rookidee—it couldn’t stay still even near Natsume, always appearing ready to dart off and explore the world.
Butterfree, by comparison, was much calmer. After its initial curiosity subsided, it quietly hovered by Natsume's side.

"They're all such spirited little ones," the mayor said, smiling warmly as he observed Natsume's Pokémon.

The demeanor of a trainer's Pokémon often revealed much about the trainer's character.
Seeing how relaxed and close these Pokémon were with Natsume reassured the mayor.

‘A good sign indeed.’

Perhaps due to his age, the mayor no longer concerned himself with whether the younger generation achieved fame or greatness.
What mattered to him now was their character—he wished for them to be upright, kind-hearted individuals rather than prodigies.

‘But still…’

The mayor's gaze lingered on Persian for a moment. He couldn’t help but feel that this particular Pokémon seemed even stronger than those trained by the town's gym apprentices.
Don’t ask how he knew—chalk it up to a veteran trainer's intuition.

‘Back in the day, I too was a passionate young trainer!’

If Natsume could read minds, he would undoubtedly agree with the mayor's assessment.
Persian was indeed the main combatant of his team.
Without Persian, Natsume might not have dared to take on the farm inheritance.
After all, managing a farm required at least some basic ability for self-defense.

---

"I’ll give you a tour of the farm," the mayor said, leading Natsume and his Pokémon to explore the grounds.

Since Natsume was to inherit the place, it wouldn’t do for him to be clueless about his own farm.

"That used to be the storage shed.
This area was once an orchard for growing Berries.
Over here, they planned to cultivate new types of crops.
And this lake? It's rumored to connect to a river underground, and sometimes wild Pokémon from the river will show up here."

Meanwhile, the mayor's Mr. Mime persistently tried to engage Natsume's Pokémon in conversation.

Persian, however, barely acknowledged it, flicking its tail with an air of disinterest and occasionally letting out a lazy yawn.
Rookidee and Butterfree, on the other hand, were much friendlier and happily chatted with the enthusiastic Mr. Mime.

Aside from the mayor's explanations, the journey was filled with the chirping and calls of the Pokémon—particularly Rookidee's loud, raspy "Caw! Caw!"

Eventually, the group stopped in front of a slightly dilapidated two-story house.

"This is about the state of the farm," the mayor said.
"As you can see, it's rather run-down at the moment. You could stay in the town for now until the repairs are complete."

Given the farm's condition, the mayor suggested it might be better for Natsume to live in town temporarily.

Earlier, as they approached the house, they had even spotted a dark green Pokémon darting out of a second-story window.

"No need, Mayor. I came prepared," Natsume replied, smiling as he politely declined the offer.

Before coming here, he had already made arrangements for repairs, including hiring a construction team.
He wasn’t one to act rashly—this decision had been carefully planned.

"Well, if you say so," the mayor conceded with a laugh.
"If you need anything, don't hesitate to find me."

With his hands clasped behind his back, the mayor chuckled, while Mr. Mime mimicked his pose.

After seeing the mayor off, Natsume stood before the two-story house with his Pokémon.

When he opened the door, a cloud of dust rose into the air. Sunlight filtered through the glass, illuminating the floating particles, which danced like tiny fairies.

"Looks like the first thing we’ll do in our new home is a thorough cleaning," Natsume declared, rolling up his sleeves and grinning at his Pokémon.

His enthusiasm was palpable.

"Persian, you watch over my bag and the incubator.
Butterfree, help me clean up.
Rookidee, scout the area for other Pokémon nearby.
And remember—no picking fights!"

Pulling a variety of cleaning tools from his small bag, Natsume assigned tasks to each of his Pokémon.

When it came to Rookidee, however, he hesitated slightly.
He hadn’t had the bird for long and, despite intending to train it as his main partner, it had only learned a few basic moves so far.
Its combat prowess was nowhere near impressive—hardly enough to take on even minor challenges.

"Caaw!" Rookidee eagerly responded and flitted off to patrol the area.
Persian gave a dismissive grunt and settled next to the incubator, lazily licking its paw.
Butterfree, meanwhile, began using its psychic abilities to float cleaning tools into the air.

"Thanks for the help," Natsume said gratefully.

Unbeknownst to him, a small figure in the shrubbery watched curiously as Natsume and his Pokémon bustled about the house.

Seeing its old territory occupied, the little Pokémon hesitated, torn between reluctance and an inexplicable yearning.

"Caaw!"

Suddenly, Rookidee's sharp call echoed from above—it had spotted the figure.

"Eeek!"

Startled, the Pokémon bolted into the nearby forest, leaving Rookidee tilting its head in confusion, wondering why its presence had caused such a commotion.

Chapter Text

“You’re saying a Pokémon was watching us while we were cleaning just now?”

Wearing an apron, sleeves rolled up, and a mask over his face, Natsume looked every bit the image of a professional cleaner as he stared in surprise at the Rookidee.

“Caw, caw, caw!”

Hovering in midair, the Rookidee nodded fervently, flapping its wings and gesturing with them in an attempt to describe the scene.

“Over in those bushes?”

“Caw!”

“Oh, and it’s about the same size as you?”

Man and Pokémon conversed seamlessly, as if there were no barriers.

As a modern-day transmigrator, having a little cheat ability was practically a given.

Natsume didn’t have some silly AI system that could turn into his wife, nor did he gain any particularly cool powers. Instead, upon arriving in this world, he had an encounter that could only be described as divine.

He vaguely remembered seeing a Pokémon, one revered as the great deity of Hisui—a llama (scratched out)—no, the creator Arceus.

In a haze, Natsume had been drawn into a unique space.

Under an infinite starry sky, Arceus’s radiant form shone brilliantly. Its teal-green eyes gazed at Natsume quietly.

What happened afterward was a blur, but when Natsume awoke, he found his world profoundly changed.

He could understand the meanings behind Pokémon cries.

By focusing intently, he could see detailed information about a Pokémon.

His mind had been flooded with a vast amount of then-incomprehensible knowledge.

And he felt a strange energy within him, akin to the power of Aura or Viridian energy.

Natsume had come to regard these changes as blessings from Arceus. Thinking of it that way made them much easier to accept.

“Caw, caw, caw!”

The Rookidee on the ground scratched a few marks into the dirt with one claw, trying to convey some information.

But…

“I still don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

Natsume sighed in exasperation at the abstractness of the Rookidee descriptions.

What did “walks on two legs like you but has a green head” even mean?

Could the Pokémon it saw have been something from the Ralts evolutionary line?

But when Natsume asked if the Pokémon’s body was white, the Rookidee shook its head.

As for the patterns it scratched in the dirt, Natsume could only shake his head.

Truly, abstraction was a gift—one that he clearly didn’t possess.

“Well, let’s set aside that Pokémon for now.”

“Rookidee, why don’t you go check out the berry grove? Be careful, though.”

He gently patted the Rookidee's head with a gloved hand before turning back to his cleaning tasks.

Earlier, Natsume had checked the water and electricity in the house. Though old, everything was still functional, which made the cleaning process much easier.

While this two-story house was charming in its design and would undoubtedly be comfortable to live in, it was a nightmare to clean—especially without a Psychic-type Pokémon.

Although his Butterfree had learned Confusion as part of its training, it wasn’t a true Psychic-type, and levitating small objects was its limit. Precision work remained firmly in the domain of Psychic-types.

The sun gradually dipped toward the horizon, tinting the sky with hues of amber.

Thanks to the combined efforts of Natsume and Butterfree, the interior of the two-story house no longer resembled the neglected ruin it had been.

“Good work.”

Removing his gloves and mask, Natsume pulled a small box from his pocket.

Inside were translucent, jewel-like Pokéblocks. He took out two and handed them to Butterfree.

Butterfree’s compound eyes lit up as it eagerly clutched the Pokéblocks, nibbling away happily.

Natsume had made these Pokéblocks himself, modifying the original recipes to suit his Pokémon’s tastes.

Ah, thank you once again, Arceus.

The knowledge that had once been incomprehensible turned out to include a treasure trove of Pokéblock recipes and crafting techniques.

With this knowledge, Natsume could have made a living purely as a Pokéblock craftsman.

He wasn’t entirely sure why Arceus had given him such knowledge, but he was deeply grateful.

Maybe he should build a shrine for Arceus once the farm was up and running.

But what kind of shrine would the creator like?

Would it appreciate something flashy, like those anime-style setups with automatic lights and speakers that played Start Dash whenever someone approached?

…

On second thought, maybe not.

“You too, good work, Persian.”

At the doorway, Natsume scratched Persian's head affectionately.

Persian leaned into his hand, rubbing its head against him and purring contentedly as its tail swayed lazily.

While petting Persian, Natsume scrolled through his phone contacts.

“Ah, here it is.”

He dialed a number labeled “Moving Company.”

Before coming here, Natsume had arranged for his belongings to be delivered to the farm.

After a brief conversation, the moving company confirmed that they would deliver his items the next morning.

“That’s settled, then,” Natsume said with a satisfied smile.

“All that’s left is the farm renovations and initial preparations.”

Since the house still smelled damp from the cleaning, Natsume sat on the ground outside with Persian and Butterfree.

He flipped through a notebook filled with plans he’d jotted down earlier, updating his to-do list on his phone.

The notebook outlined everything Natsume believed needed doing, both before his arrival and after inspecting the farm.

Next to the line “Clean the house,” he added a small checkmark.

“So, today and tomorrow’s goals are to finish setting up the house, contact a construction company to start the renovations, and introduce ourselves to the neighbors.”

Snapping the notebook shut with a satisfied grin, Natsume turned to Butterfree and Persian.

“Let’s do our best!”

“Brii!” Butterfree responded softly, its wings fluttering gently.

Persian, ever the aloof one, didn’t react, though its tail swayed a little faster, softly thumping against the ground.

“Caw, caw!”

A familiar cry rang out from the sky.

“Looks like our little scout is back.”

Dusting off his pants, Natsume stood and stretched.

Ah, to be young again.

Even after a full day of cleaning, he still had energy to spare.

If this had been his previous, overworked corporate self, he’d have been completely drained just from sitting at his desk all day.

Chapter Text

Under the night sky, the farm lay in utter silence.

On the second floor, Natsume slept soundly on the mattress he'd brought along.
The furniture wouldn’t arrive until the next morning, so he had no choice but to make do for the night.

That was the plan, at least.

---

“Chii?”

As the farm settled into darkness, many Pokémon began to stir.

A curious little Rattata poked its head out from the bushes.

It had noticed earlier that afternoon—after such a long time of the farmhouse being empty—that someone had moved in.

This discovery left the little Rattata rather displeased.

To it, the abandoned building was a well-established “secret base,” shared with its siblings for endless adventures.

And now, a stranger had taken over.

“Chii!”

Rubbing its nose resolutely with its tiny paw, the Rattata made up its mind.
It would give this uninvited guest a "special surprise"!

But as the little troublemaker schemed, it failed to notice the looming shadow that had silently crept up behind it.

When the clouds shifted, and moonlight bathed the scene, the silhouette of a large predator became clear.

The Rattata froze, only now realizing it had been discovered.

Thwack!

A paw glowing with pale white energy swept through the air and smacked the Rattata with unerring accuracy.

The unfortunate rodent soared in a graceful arc, bouncing a few times on the ground before disappearing into the undergrowth, dazed.

“Grr...”

The Persian, retracting its paw, cast a dismissive glance at the unconscious Rattata before turning back to its nightly patrol.

Everyone knows cats are nocturnal.

And for this Persian, its first night at the farm meant only one thing: establishing its territory.

Its tail swayed languidly as it padded silently through the grass, its soft paw pads making no noise.

The Persian largely ignored the Pokémon that resided on the farm, sparing only a brief glance.
It was only when any dared approach the house that its sharp gaze locked onto them.

Then, swift action was taken.

Under its vigilant watch, the first night passed without incident.

---

Morning

As dawn broke, the farm’s Pokémon were greeted by an unusual sight.
The human who had arrived yesterday had returned, this time leading a procession of other humans into the farm.

“This sofa can go in the living room on the first floor,” Natsume instructed.
“And that small bed goes in the guest room upstairs, the one closest to the staircase.”

Efficiently directing a team of Machop and Machoke movers, Natsume got everything set up.
Once satisfied, he paid the movers their due.

“With the house set up, it’s time to get acquainted with the farm’s residents.”

Natsume crossed off [Set Up House] on his trusty notebook and began exploring the farm with his three Pokémon: Persian, Butterfree, and Rookidee.

Yesterday, during his visit with the mayor, he had only managed a quick survey of the area.
Today’s goal was twofold:

1. Announce his presence to the Pokémon living on the farm.

2. Recruit new partners for the work ahead.

After all, this was the world of Pokémon.

Who farms by hand anymore?

Wouldn’t it be better to have a Sandshrew dig through tough soil or a Diglett plow the land?

Electric Pokémon like Magnemite or Pikachu could generate power, while the likes of Psyduck or Lotad handled irrigation.

In both daily life and specialized tasks, Pokémon had become integral to human society.

As a farm owner, the more Pokémon the merrier—as long as he could afford to care for them.

With Persian acting like a hound ready to pounce, Butterfree soaring above as a scouting falcon, and Rookidee providing a mascot-like cheerfulness, Natsume felt like a jungle hunter stalking through his own domain.

“Sand?”

As they passed a small mound of dirt, a curious Sandshrew poked its head out, its dark eyes full of curiosity.

It tilted its head, unsure of the human’s intentions.

“Hello there, Sandshrew. I’m the new owner of this farm.”

“I’d like to invite you to be my partner,” Natsume said, crouching down to meet the Pokémon at eye level.

“Sand? Sand-sand?”

‘What do I get out of it?’

The Sandshrew, sensing no malice from Natsume, felt oddly drawn to him but still had its reservations.

Understanding its question, Natsume reached into his bag and pulled out a small container of energy cubes.
These ones, earthy brown with a faint golden glow, were tailored for ground-types.

“You’ll help with the farm work, and in return, you’ll get these energy cubes as payment.”

“Sand!”

The Sandshrew sniffed the cubes eagerly, its eyes lighting up.
Without hesitation, it grabbed Natsume’s hand and started munching, devouring the cubes in no time.

“Sand-sand?”
‘Do I get these regularly?’

“As long as you’re my partner.”

“Sand~”

‘Deal.’

The Sandshrew even made its preference clear: it wasn’t a fan of battling.

“That’s fine by me,” Natsume replied with a smile, handing it a Pokéball.

The Sandshrew tapped the ball with its paw, and in a flash of light, it was captured.
The ball barely wobbled before settling with a click.

“I caught a Sandshrew!”

Feeling accomplished, Natsume released the Pokémon immediately and fulfilled his promise of another helping of energy cubes.

BOOM!

Their bonding moment was interrupted by a loud noise from the nearby forest.

Startled, the Sandshrew fumbled its energy cube, hastily scooping it up and stuffing it into its mouth.

For a ground-type Pokémon, food on the ground was hardly an issue.

“What was that noise?” Natsume asked, frowning.

“Sand-sand!”

The Sandshrew, now done eating, explained the situation as best it could.

After listening carefully, Natsume nodded in understanding.

Chapter Text

Deep in the forest, two groups of Pokémon were locked in a tense standoff.

Not far away, Natsume crouched with his Pokémon, observing the scene.

"Sand-sand."
As a native of the farm, Sandshrew explained the situation to Natsume.

In short, the forest's resources were relatively richer than other areas, which had led to an ongoing conflict over territorial rights between the two groups.

For wild Pokémon, this kind of dispute was perfectly natural. Whether it was for berries or shelter, strength determined ownership.

"I see," Natsume murmured, stroking Sandshrew's head as he studied the groups.

Calling them “groups” was a bit of a stretch—this was more like a family feud.

On the left were two Mightyena accompanied by three Poochyena, clearly a couple leading their pack.

On the right stood a single Ursaring with five Teddiursa. A single-parent household, it seemed.

As Natsume observed them, the Pokémon also noticed him.

For Mightyena and Ursaring, this distance might as well not exist.

“Rrrr!”
The leading Mightyena turned its head and growled at Natsume. Its low, guttural tone was full of hostility and aggression.

This is our territory! Leave at once!

To the Mightyena pack, this entire forest was theirs. Neither the Ursaring group nor the human had any business being here.

Ursaring, on the other hand, completely ignored Natsume, showing no interest in communication.

Neither seemed inclined to back down.

“Rrrr!”
The lead Mightyena growled again, urging Natsume to leave. The other Poochyena glared at him as well, their eyes full of menace.

Meanwhile, the Teddiursa began to grow restless. Known for their energetic and jittery nature, they were moments away from causing a scene.

If Natsume made a wrong move now, he could find himself the target of both groups' combined ire.

“That won’t do,” Natsume muttered, standing up. He didn’t seem fazed by either side’s aggression.

“Your territory? No, this is my land.”

“Persian, you’re up.”

The moment Natsume spoke, his Persian, who had been itching for action, darted forward.

In some ways, Persian was no different from the Mightyena—it also considered this forest part of its domain. Or rather, it viewed the entire farm as its territory.

A white glow enveloped Persian’s body—it was using Agility.

In a flash, Persian was like an arrow released from a bowstring, shooting between the two groups.

Its paw lifted, and razor-sharp claws extended, gleaming menacingly in the sunlight.

Fake Out!

As a priority move, it ensured Persian struck first.

“Thud!”
A dull sound echoed as Persian's paw slammed into the lead Mightyena’s head.

In that instant, the Mightyena felt like the world had slowed to a crawl.

The scenery before its eyes warped and blurred. Its thoughts drifted away, and its mind emptied, as if it were back in its egg.

The next moment, the Mightyena was sent flying like a kite with a broken string. It collided with a tree, paused for a second, then slid limply to the ground, knocked out cold.

If there had been a slow-motion camera, it would have captured the moment the Mightyena’s head contorted under the impact.

But no one was paying attention to the fallen Mightyena anymore.

Persian had become a blur of motion, weaving through the Mightyena and Ursaring groups like a streak of light.

With each pass, a Pokémon was sent flying.

The scene resembled a sequence from Stephen Chow’s movie Kung Fu Hustle.

Some Pokémon tried to fight back, but most of their attacks missed. Those that landed barely fazed Persian, as it quickly incapacitated them in turn.

“Woolie,”
A blue psychic glow shimmered as Butterfree, standing guard beside Natsume, monitored the battle.

“Caw!”
The sight made the young Rookidee's blood boil. It flapped its wings furiously, itching to join the fray.

And indeed, it tried to.

But Natsume, knowing Rookidee's impulsive nature, had anticipated this. He swiftly reached out and grabbed it.

“You’re not ready for this yet,” he said, cradling the struggling bird in his arms and gently patting its head to calm it down.

Rookidee begrudgingly settled, though its frustration was plain.

I have to find a way to convince him to let me fight, it thought, already scheming.

In less than half a minute, the forest was silent once more.

Only Persian remained standing amidst the fallen Pokémon.

It licked its paw nonchalantly and strolled back to Natsume with the grace of a cat that had merely gone for a morning jog.

“Now, can we talk properly?” Natsume asked, crouching beside the downed Ursaring and Mightyena.

The two Pokémon exchanged looks. Talk? About what? How thoroughly we were beaten?

For now, they both chose to remain silent.

“I’m Natsume, the new owner of this farm,” he began.

“Simply put, this entire area belongs to me.”

The Mightyena and Ursaring exchanged glances again. Is he kicking us out?

“If you’re willing to join the farm, you can stay,” Natsume continued.

“But there are rules: no causing trouble, no fighting, no attacking passersby. You’ll also need to help with farm duties. Can you agree to that?”

Natsume’s explanation clarified things. He had no intention of driving out all the wild Pokémon.

After all, the farm was vast. Even with Persian, Butterfree, Rookidee, and the newly recruited Sandshrew, there was only so much they could manage.

Recruiting the “locals” would be far more practical.

As Natsume spoke, the other Pokémon who had been knocked out began to recover, including the Mightyena that Persian had smacked earlier.

After a group discussion, the two sides finally agreed to Natsume’s terms.

“Great, then let’s make it official.”

Natsume pulled out a handful of Poké Balls from his bag.

“Trainers might pass through the farm in the future,” he explained.

“If you’re not officially part of the farm, you might be mistaken for ordinary wild Pokémon and get captured.”

While the town was relatively remote and lacked convenient transportation, trainers were like anglers—they had a knack for showing up in the most unexpected places.

One group scours the world for untouched fishing spots.

The other searches for uncharted areas to catch Pokémon and unearth treasures.

Chapter Text

After successfully capturing the Mightyena pack, Natsume quickly released them from their Poké Balls.

From the very beginning, Natsume had no intention of keeping Pokémon confined in their Poké Balls for extended periods. Even if he became a full-fledged Trainer, he planned to maintain this principle.

To Natsume, Poké Balls were akin to pet carriers for cats.

No matter how comfortable the carrier, it was still a form of restriction. Its primary use should be for convenience in cities or during special circumstances requiring transport.

A green glow radiated from Natsume's palm, spreading like a gentle spring rain over the injured Pokémon. Their wounds healed rapidly, leaving no trace of their previous injuries.

“All right, I’m counting on you to patrol the farm from now on.”

He patted the Mightyena father on the head while pulling out a roll of masking tape. Carefully, he labeled each Poké Ball and recorded which Pokémon it corresponded to.

Natsume casually referred to his healing power as the “Power of Viridian.”

The name wasn’t particularly creative, but Natsume found it fitting given its versatile nature. Terms like “Aura” or “Overpower” didn’t quite resonate with him, so he borrowed the name directly.

“By tomorrow, the farm's renovations should begin,” Natsume said, continuing to organize his thoughts. “I’m planning to have Sandshrew till the soil for replanting. Once the fields are ready, they’ll also become part of your patrol routes.”

After finishing the labeling, Natsume stuffed all the Poké Balls into his bag. He planned to set up a dedicated room for storing them later. Given the number of Pokémon he expected to capture, it seemed like a necessary step.

“Woof!”

The Mightyena father had grown much more attached to Natsume after being captured.

In fact, Natsume naturally exuded a warm and approachable aura. Most Pokémon found it hard to resist getting close to him.

Between this natural charm and the bond formed through capture, the Mightyena father now looked at Natsume with genuine affection.

When Natsume scratched his head, the Mightyena’s tail instinctively rose, swaying slightly.

If it weren’t for the judging stares from his mate and pups, his tail might have been wagging like a helicopter rotor by now.

“Grr...”

On the other side, the Ursaring family had also developed a favorable opinion of Natsume, though this affection extended solely to him.

They still harbored no goodwill toward the Mightyena pack or the Persian who had thoroughly humiliated them earlier.

The Teddiursa pups huddled together, whispering among themselves. Occasionally, they would glance at Natsume and then at the Mightyena family.

Meanwhile, the Ursaring leader remained calm, patiently awaiting further instructions from Natsume.

“Ursaring.”

Turning his attention to the Ursaring family, Natsume laid out a simple plan for them.

Given their nature, they were a perfect fit for treasure hunting.

The farm still had unexplored areas, and letting the Ursaring family roam freely might even uncover hidden surprises.

After explaining his idea, the Ursaring leader nodded decisively.

This arrangement worked perfectly, especially since his hyperactive pups were always brimming with energy.

Left unsupervised, they inevitably caused trouble. Today’s conflict had started because one Teddiursa had wandered off and accidentally knocked over a Poochyena, igniting the clash between the two groups.

Glancing at his mischievous pups, the Ursaring leader sighed in mild exasperation.

“I’m counting on you all, then.”

Standing at the forest’s edge, Natsume waved goodbye to the Pokémon as they saw him off.

Before leaving, he negotiated a territorial boundary between the Ursaring and Mightyena families.

Both sides seemed satisfied with the arrangement.

Of course, with both groups now under Natsume’s command, territorial disputes held little meaning.

Still, Mightyena Pokémon were known for their strong territorial instincts, so a compromise seemed necessary.

“Next, let’s check out the small lake.”

Natsume envisioned dividing the farm into several distinct zones in the future:

Residential Area: For everyday activities and Pokémon interactions.

Production Zone: Reserved for planting and farming.

Recreation Area: Equipped with fishing spots and play facilities.

He also wanted to establish a Ranch Zone and a Daycare Facility for Pokémon breeding and care.

Yes, Natsume planned to expand his humble farm into a comprehensive ranch.

He didn’t just want to raise Pokémon like Miltank or Combee, which produced valuable goods.

He dreamed of managing entire Pokémon communities and running a daycare.

After all, in this world, who would settle for just farming?

Even if he didn’t pursue the life of a Pokémon Trainer, he wanted to stay connected to Pokémon in some meaningful way.

Becoming a rancher sounded perfect to him.

For now, though, those ambitions were far off.

His immediate priority was fixing up the farm.

---

By afternoon, Natsume had explored the lakeside.

The small artificial lake wasn’t teeming with Pokémon, but there were some familiar species.

Magikarp and Feebas were abundant, along with solitary Pokémon like Lotad, Wooper, and Poliwag.

They tended to form small clusters of two or three.

On a side note, Natsume wanted to address a common misconception:

Many people believed Feebas were as rare as their evolved form, Milotic.

In reality, Feebas, like Magikarp, were hardy Pokémon found in many places.

While not as widespread as Magikarp, they were far from rare.

---

“Thanks for your hard work, Sandshrew.”

On his way back, Natsume encountered Sandshrew, who had just finished working in the fields.

Knowing that Ground-type Pokémon disliked wet environments, Natsume had sent Sandshrew to till the fields instead of accompanying him to the lake.

For Sandshrew, digging in the soil was far more appealing than standing idly by the water.

Ground-types were naturally drawn to burrowing, just as Water-types gravitated toward wet areas.

“Sand~”

Seeing Natsume, Sandshrew waved its dirt-covered claws enthusiastically.

It seemed to be in high spirits after spending the afternoon digging.

As Sandshrew prepared to run over and show off its work, a small Pokémon suddenly darted out and blocked its path.

“Mimi!”

“A Minccino?”

Natsume blinked in surprise at the petite gray Pokémon.

Then it hit him—this wasn’t unusual at all.

Minccino and its evolution, Cinccino, were notorious neat freaks among Pokémon.

Their obsession with cleanliness was extreme.

They couldn’t resist rushing to clean anything dirty, even if it meant getting themselves filthy in the process.

There were even cases where a Minccino, attempting to clean a dirty Poké Ball, accidentally got itself caught.

“Mimimi!”

The Minccino ignored Natsume entirely, squeaking furiously at Sandshrew.

It looked like it was ready to pounce and scrub Sandshrew clean.

Chapter Text

There's a saying:

When you're weak, even your anger can seem adorable to others.

That perfectly described the current state of the Minccino.

Though it appeared furious, its cute demeanor only made it look endearing—like something you’d want to scoop up and cuddle.

“Sand?”

The unexpected situation left Sandshrew momentarily at a loss, its previously waving paw now frozen in mid-air, unsure of what to do.

Meanwhile, the bushes behind the Minccino rustled, and a Buneary emerged.

The Buneary ran over to its friend, grasping the Minccino's arm nervously and whispering something to it.

Judging by its expression, it was either trying to persuade its friend not to meddle or urging it to quickly distance itself from humans.

Thanks to years of “dedication” by trainers, human Pokémon trainers now had quite a “reputation” among wild Pokémon.

Yes, the bad kind.

To wild Pokémon, trainers were often synonymous with chaos:

Invading territories and attacking innocent Pokémon.

Stealing treasures while Pokémon were away.

Kidnapping baby Pokémon and tearing families apart.

When viewed in this light, trainers must seem like the villains of their world.

The appearance of Buneary seemed to calm the Minccino slightly, though it still glared at Sandshrew with evident displeasure.

“Hello, Minccino, and you too, Buneary,” Natsume greeted them softly. “I’m Natsume, and Sandshrew here is my partner. Is there something you need from him?”

Stepping forward, he squatted down to their level, speaking in a gentle tone.

From the moment the Minccino appeared, Natsume had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

It was nothing more than the classic case of a clean freak encountering something dirty and losing its cool.

As for Buneary, it was likely trying to calm its overly emotional friend.

“Mi-mi!”

The Minccino, previously a bit calmer, suddenly grew agitated again upon hearing Natsume’s words.

It pointed at Sandshrew and began chirping rapidly, clearly expressing its discontent.

Beside it, Buneary looked back and forth between Natsume and the Minccino, on the verge of tears.

Knowing its friend’s character all too well, Buneary was certain that if it didn’t step in, the Minccino would launch itself forward at any moment.

Not that it seemed like it could hold its friend back now, either.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” Natsume said, attempting to placate the agitated Minccino. He glanced at Sandshrew, noting its dirt-covered fur speckled with bits of grass and roots. It was indeed quite the mess.

---

A few minutes later...

“Mi~”

The Minccino, its fur slightly disheveled, wiped sweat off its forehead with a satisfied smile, a look of pride and fulfillment on its face.

It was as if a long-standing internal pressure had finally been released—like the joy of putting on fresh underwear on New Year’s Day.

Behind it stood a freshly cleaned Sandshrew, utterly dazed.

Compared to its earlier appearance of being literally “freshly dug up” from the ground, Sandshrew now looked immaculate, like it had just rolled off the production line.

---

Meanwhile, Buneary, happily munching on a Pokéblock, sidled up to the Minccino.

Yes, it only took a short while for Buneary to be thoroughly “won over” by Natsume.

This was partly due to Natsume’s natural affinity and partly due to the deliciousness of the Pokéblock. For Buneary, it was the first time it had tasted something so good.

But there was another, even more critical reason.

As Buneary chatted with Minccino , it stole a glance at Natsume, its eyes lingering on his face.

Although still bearing the youthful features of a teenager, his facial contours already showed promise. He might not be devastatingly handsome, but he was undoubtedly one of the standouts among his peers.

Even now, Natsume could easily be described as clean-cut and pleasant to look at.

When Natsume’s questioning gaze turned toward it, Buneary hurriedly turned away, as if startled, her cheeks faintly flushed with a hint of crimson.

Yes, Buneary had been “convinced” primarily because it liked Natsume’s face.

Seeing him simply put it in a good mood.

Creatures like this are often referred to as "face enthusiasts."

Buneary was precisely that.

Of course, it justified its choice by telling itself that Natsume was a genuinely kind person.

Watching her “defected” friend, the Minccino seemed helpless.

I know you’re smitten with this human’s face, but can’t you show a little restraint?

To this, Buneary seemed to reply, When a girl sees what she wants, she strikes first! Come on, join me—you wouldn’t want to lose sight of me, would you?

At least, that was what Natsume imagined based on the Pokémon’s conversation and body language.

Though he embellished a bit, the overall meaning wasn’t far off.

“Mi!”

Minccino looked at its friend, then at Natsume, and finally made its decision.

If it was going to follow a human, they’d have to earn it in battle!

“Alright, it’s a deal,” Natsume responded with a smile, noticing the determined gleam in the Minccino's eyes.

His gaze shifted to his team of Pokémon.

Persian was out—it was too strong, making the battle unfair.

Butterfree was also unsuitable, as its move set wasn’t friendly to Minccino.

Sandshrew wasn’t interested in fighting, which it had made clear when it joined the team.

That left one option.

“Go, Rookidee!”

Hearing its name, the little bird Pokémon, which had been doing its best to appear indifferent to the situation, immediately perked up and flew to Natsume’s side, ready for action.

I knew it! If I play it cool, the boss will send me out to fight!

From now on, I’m going to be a cold and Ruthless Pokémon. That way, I’ll get more opportunities to battle!

Though its inner thoughts ran wild, Rookidee maintained a composed exterior, fixing its opponent with a sharp, piercing gaze.

Starting today, I’ll be a ruthless, emotionless Pokémon.

With that resolution in mind, Rookidee prepared for its battle.

Chapter Text

In the clearing, the battle between Minccino and Rookidee was about to begin.

"Mi!"

Among the two opponents, it was Minccino who first lost patience.

She didn’t understand strategy or tactics—only that gaining the upper hand at the start usually meant winning.

Lowering her body to the ground, Minccino suddenly dashed forward and leapt high into the air. Her tail began to glow with a dazzling white light.

Tail Whip!

As adorable as Minccino looked, her early-stage move pool was limited, mostly comprising status and utility moves.

"Caw caw!"

Rookidee, however, remained calm. He simply chose to ascend, flying higher into the sky.

Minccino's confident strike landed on empty air.

Flying Pokémon had an inherent advantage against grounded opponents. They could strike at will while remaining out of reach.

Energy began to gather in Rookidee's eyes.

Leer! His sharp gaze intimidated his opponent, reducing her defense.

Minccino stiffened mid-fall, nearly losing her balance upon landing.

But Rookidee wasn’t done yet. Circling in the sky, he alternated between Leer and Hone Claws, enhancing his own attack and accuracy.

Minccino, now fuming, wanted nothing more than to pluck every single feather off this smug bird.

But alas, she couldn’t even touch him.

From the sidelines, Natsume observed the entire match without issuing a single command.

There were several reasons for his silence—chief among them being the importance of fostering independent battle instincts in Pokémon.

Think about this: a Dragonite can circle the globe in 16 hours.

Now, how long would it take for Dragonite to cross a battlefield?

Natsume didn’t know the exact time, but it was certainly faster than any human could react.

By the time you noticed Dragonite moving, its punch would already be planted firmly on its opponent’s face.

This wasn’t limited to Dragonite. While most Pokémon weren’t that fast, the difference wasn’t significant.

Whether a trainer couldn’t react at all or could barely react but failed to give a timely command, the outcome was the same: no difference.

Thus, training Pokémon to make autonomous decisions during battles was an essential skill for every trainer—unless they were a psychic capable of telepathic communication or had a Pokémon with a unique battle style.

In essence, the relationship between a trainer and their Pokémon was akin to that between a coach and an esports player.

Pokémon fought in battles, while trainers focused on daily training, strategy development, and offering guidance during critical moments.

The trainer’s job wasn’t to micromanage every move but to provide insights and tactical adjustments.

"Caw!"

When Rookidee felt sufficiently powered up, he finally launched his offensive.

Diving from high above, he resembled a homing missile locked onto its target.

A gleaming light enveloped his beak—a sign of the Peck attack.

With multiple boosts to his attack and accuracy, and against a foe whose defense had been lowered, the outcome was inevitable.

"Mi-mi!"

Seated on the ground, Minccino waved her tiny paws and voiced her protests.

To be more precise, it wasn’t just a protest—it bordered on outright verbal abuse.

She was spouting some surprisingly colorful language.

Even Natsume, busy treating her injuries, twitched at her choice of words.

For a Pokémon with such a cute appearance, who would’ve guessed she had… such "vocabulary."

High EQ interpretation: This kid could try her luck in the verbal battlegrounds of a competitive online game.
Low EQ interpretation: She’s got quite the filthy mouth.

Rookidee, unimpressed by Minccino's outburst, dismissed her tantrum with a nonchalant attitude.

"You're just bad. Practice more."

This was a phrase Rookidee had picked up from Natsume’s short videos. It seemed fitting, so he decided to use it.

"Mi!"

Minccino, glaring at Rookidee, made a silent vow:

One day, you mangy bird, I’ll pluck every feather off you and stuff them down your throat!

"Alright, alright," Natsume said, smiling wryly as he healed her injuries.

This little one didn’t seem to have the best temper.

"Now, as promised, we’re partners from now on."

Taking out a Pokéball, Natsume held it out to Minccino.

Despite her anger toward Rookidee, Minccino held a degree of fondness for Natsume.

Besides, her best friend, Buneary, had already agreed to this arrangement.

Glancing at Buneary, who looked at her with hopeful eyes, Minccino sighed before slapping the Pokéball with her paw, allowing its red light to envelop her.

There was no turning back now. She could only hope she hadn’t been tricked.

The Pokéball in Natsume’s hand shook briefly before falling still.

"Come out, Minccino."

Reemerging from the Pokéball, Minccino stretched her body and carefully studied Natsume.

From now on, she had a trainer.

Although Natsume claimed he didn’t plan to be a trainer, that wasn’t a big deal.

If he wasn’t a trainer, she wouldn’t have to battle.

Some Pokémon were born to fight—driven by passion, destined for glory, and craving the thrill of the stage.

But Minccino wasn’t one of them.

At least she trusted Buneary's judgment.

Natsume’s face was… pleasing to look at.

Satisfied, Minccino nodded to herself.

Pokémon didn’t just wait to be chosen by trainers—sometimes, they chose their trainers too.

It was a mutual decision.

"Alright, let’s head back," Natsume said, pocketing Minccino's Pokéball.

Suddenly, Rookidee began to glow white.

"Caw-caw!"

Initially startled, Rookidee relaxed when Natsume reminded him it was just evolution.

In the brilliant light, Rookidee's body grew larger, reshaping itself.

When the light subsided, a new Pokémon stood in his place: Corvisquire.

"Caw!"

The newly evolved Corvisquire spread its wings wide, its proud posture exuding confidence.

It had taken the first step toward becoming a fierce aerial predator, known for its swift movements and fiery spirit

In certain regions, Corviknight were used as transportation for their size and speed—like a real-life ride-share service.

Just as Corvisquire was about to flaunt his presence, he noticed a gaze from below.

Looking down, he saw Persian, who had been quietly lying by Natsume’s feet.

Instantly, Corvisquire deflated.

He meekly landed next to Natsume, his previous arrogance gone.

Docile mode: Activated.

Minccino, observing this scene, was stunned.

So, you’re scared of someone too, huh?

To this, Corvisquire responded with a dismissive look.

Don’t be naïve.

Part of his fear stemmed from Persian’s long-standing bond with Natsume, which granted her special status.

The other reason?

Well, isn’t catching birds just part of a cat’s DNA?

Chapter Text

In Corvisquire’s memory, it had once been young and brash.

Especially after Natsume painted a vivid picture of its bright future, Corvisquire had been brimming with confidence, certain it would one day reign supreme.

Then, it got knocked flat by Persian.

With a swipe of its claws, Persian made it clear who held the second spot in the household hierarchy.

First place, of course, belonged to Natsume.

Reflecting on its pain and humiliation, Rookidee realized that it simply hadn’t "honed" itself enough.

After a period of self-reflection, it challenged Persian again.

And lost.

A few more defeats later, Rookidee finally saw the light: as things stood, it had no hope of defeating Persian. It decided to go back and "hone" itself further.

Now, as Corvisquire, it felt ready! Just a few more days of "honing," and it would challenge Persian for that coveted second-place spot!

Flying beside Natsume, Corvisquire tried to keep a low profile, but it couldn't help sneaking glances at Persian.

Its intentions were written all over its face.

“Meow,” Persian yawned, stretching luxuriously.

Is this our new home?

Minccino's eyes sparkled as it gazed at the two-story house.

Such a big house! There must be so many places to clean!

Just imagining it filled Minccino with boundless energy.

Beside it, Buneary stared curiously at the house.

So this is where we’ll live with Natsume from now on? It looks pretty nice. Just thinking about it made Buneary feel happy.

“Meow.”

Persian stretched, arching its back until its entire body was taut. It let out a long yawn before padding gracefully toward the stairs.

It was sleepy and ready for a nap. After all, cats are nocturnal creatures.

Butterfree and Corvisquire also retired to rest.

Butterfree had its own room on the second floor, while Corvisquire had a small perch on the rooftop. Though, once it evolved into Corviknight, it would probably need to move outside.

At over two meters tall, Corviknight would clearly be too large for the house.

Besides, Natsume's Corvisquire was already bulkier than its peers. Once it evolved, its size would undoubtedly be even more impressive.

It seemed likely that Natsume would eventually build a bigger house—but for now, that plan was still just a thought, not something to mention to Buneary and the others.

“Mi-mi!”

Minccino darted around the house, poking its nose into every nook and cranny.

With Natsume’s permission, it zipped through the rooms, occasionally popping out from unexpected corners.

As Natsume unpacked, he couldn’t help but notice the little Pokémon’s expression gradually shift from joy to stern seriousness.

Occasionally, Minccino would pause and turn back, giving Natsume a sharp look.

It was as if to ask, Are you sure you actually cleaned this place?

That look made Natsume a little self-conscious.

He’d tried to clean, hadn’t he? Maybe he’d cut a corner or two, but overall, he’d done a decent job... right?

As everyone knows, a guy’s room is always messy but never truly dirty.

But for Minccino...

What was this hell on earth?!

After its inspection, Minccino scrunched its little face in disapproval, looking as if it couldn’t bear the sight.

It concluded that while the house had technically been cleaned, it wasn’t cleaned properly.

It was almost as if someone had intentionally left a few dirty spots just to show how messy it had been before.

What might pass unnoticed by a big, burly boy stood out glaringly to the sharp eyes of Minccino.

“Mi-mi!”

Rolling up its metaphorical sleeves, the little Pokémon was ready to go. Behind it, flames of determination seemed to flicker.

Not just behind—it almost seemed to have fire in its eyes, too.

“How about we leave it for tomorrow?” Natsume suggested. “It’s getting late.”

Minccino flatly refused.

It gestured with its little paws, saying Natsume should focus on his own tasks—cleaning was now its responsibility.

Watch and learn!

Seeing the spirited little Pokémon flit around with a determined "Mi-mi," Natsume couldn’t help but smile.

“Then I’ll leave it to you.”

“Mi~” Leave it to me!

It waved a paw confidently and marched into the living room, as grandly as an ancient general heading to war.

---

In the misty warmth of the bathroom, Natsume’s figure was blurred by steam.

Hot water flowed down his well-toned frame.

“I’ll need to repair the farm’s perimeter fences soon.”

“And the warehouse—it’s completely falling apart.”

“The machine for making PokéBlocks arrived this morning. I’ll start using it tomorrow.”

“That’ll also help replenish our supplies.”

As he planned out his next steps, Natsume realized his life was about to get very busy.

Well, that was expected for a fledgling farm.

“Bun?”

When Natsume emerged, Buneary was standing nearby, proudly holding a blow dryer like a trophy.

It seemed to have been waiting for him.

“Thanks, Buneary.”

“Bun~” No problem! Need help drying your hair?

Buneary scrambled onto a nearby table, looking at Natsume with eager anticipation.

“No need.”

Despite Buneary's hopeful gaze, Natsume gently declined.

Blow-drying a guy’s hair is quick work.

Besides, if he gave in now, he might start relying on them too much.

Natsume had no intention of becoming one of those famously pampered humans, utterly spoiled by their Pokémon.

“Bun...”

Though a little disappointed, Buneary's ears twitched, and it accepted Natsume’s refusal without fuss.

This made Natsume breathe a sigh of relief.

While he could be firm with outsiders, it was much harder to turn down his own Pokémon.

He just wasn’t cut out to play the role of the strict parent.

After drying his hair, Natsume was ready for bed but noticed Buneary trailing behind him.

“You’re not going to your own room?”

“Bun!”

Buneary shook its head and climbed onto a nearby beanbag chair, patting the cushion. It clearly wanted to sleep there.

“Alright. Goodnight, Buneary.”

“Bun~” Goodnight, Natsume.

With a soft click, the room lights went out.

Outside, the world was just as quiet, the sun having long dipped below the horizon.

Except...

Rustle, rustle.

In a bush not far from the house, something stirred.

It seemed a wild Pokémon was lurking nearby.

Chapter Text

As the sun's glow fully faded beneath the horizon, the bustling world fell silent for a brief moment. Yet it wasn’t long before it sprang back to life, as if the nocturnal staff had clocked in, ready to revel in the pleasures of the night.

People often imagine the night to be tranquil.
But in truth, the night is always teeming with stories, and the world of Pokémon is no exception.

Many Pokémon that snooze away the day in their nests stretched their stiff limbs and emerged from their cozy shelters to hunt for food. Even a bear waking from hibernation will prioritize gorging itself. After all, survival comes first.

Besides the naturally nocturnal Pokémon, some others also chose the cover of night to avoid human activity.

“Rustle, rustle.”

“Munya?”

A bush swayed gently, and a small, dark green head cautiously popped out.

Its starry eyes were filled with nervousness and unease. Although it knew this might be risky and perhaps even inappropriate, it couldn’t resist the allure of a certain pile of junk.

Earlier that morning, Natsume had cleared out some old, unusable items. Among the pile were broken furniture, children’s toys, marbles, playing cards, and toy soldiers.

If young Natsume had come across these treasures, he would have been ecstatic. But as an adult, they failed to stir any emotions in him.

No nostalgic joy. No cringing embarrassment over old memories. It seemed those once-vivid and joyful recollections had quietly faded, like childhood and youth slipping away unnoticed. Perhaps that was simply growing up.

“Munya.”

The Pokémon in the bushes tilted its head, gazing curiously at the marbles sparkling under the moonlight.

Though cheap, the glass orbs took on a gem-like brilliance beneath the silvery glow, exuding an air of value.
And so, they captivated the attention of a little Pokémon with no concept of worldly riches.

Peering at the seemingly silent two-story house nearby, the Pokémon confirmed it was completely dark and quiet.

Although Persian, being nocturnal, might still be awake, living alongside Natsume had partially adjusted its habits.

After careful "analysis," the Pokémon decided the time was right to make its move.

“Munya-munya.”

It pulled out a stealth suit it had meticulously crafted earlier that day. Humming a cheerful tune, it donned the outfit. Though the melody was random and improvised, it brimmed with the whimsical charm of a child’s boundless imagination.

Once fully dressed, the little figure’s eyes turned sharp and focused.
Operation Nighttime Treasure Hunt! Initiate!

Mimicking a pose it had once seen somewhere, the Pokémon dived forward, flattening itself to the ground. Wrapped tightly in the stealth suit, it cautiously peered through a gap, checking the house for movement.

All clear.

Nodding in satisfaction, the Pokémon admired its execution.

I’ve got talent, don’t I?

Even as it stifled its excitement, it reminded itself not to get cocky. Steeling its nerves, the Pokémon resumed its stealthy crawl forward:
Wriggle, sneak, roll. Stop. Peer through the suit. Repeat.

The so-called stealth suit was actually just a tattered, dark green windbreaker, adorned with makeshift camouflage like grass and ragged cloth strips. Though crude, the details revealed the creator’s earnestness in crafting the “gear.”

Throughout its operation, the Pokémon adhered strictly to a silent approach, making no noise at all.

But it failed to notice several pairs of eyes watching from the second-floor balcony.

‘So this is the green-headed thing you mentioned?’

Persian glanced at the Corvisquire crouched beside it. Though silent, its expression spoke volumes.

Corvisquire, spreading its wings, was about to unleash its signature raucous cry when Persian shot it a sharp glare. The glint of claws peeking through its paw made Corvisquire gulp.

The cawing sound died in its throat.

‘Yeah, that’s the one spying around yesterday!’

‘This creep’s totally a pervy stalker!’

Corvisquire flailed its wings and widened its eyes to emphasize its point, attempting to communicate through exaggerated gestures.

But the display... well, let’s just say it left much to be desired.

‘You might consider a career in pantomime or comedy.’

Butterfree patted Corvisquire’s wing with approval. This kid, it thought, could save the performing arts industry.

While the others remained unbothered, Buneary appeared genuinely concerned. Nudging Persian, it whispered softly into its ear.

Should we go wake Natsume?

Persian tilted its head, glancing at the shadowy, wriggling figure on the ground below.

After a brief pause, it nodded.
Go ahead. It’s worth notifying him about this.

Receiving approval, Buneary leaped from the railing and trotted back inside.

---

“Bun.”

With a graceful leap, it landed softly on Natsume’s bed without disturbing him.

Gently nudging his face, it whispered a call.

“Hmm? What’s up, Buneary?”

Rubbing his drowsy eyes, Natsume sat up, puzzled. Though his mind was still half-asleep, his hand instinctively reached out to pat Buneary's head—a familiar motion to anyone who’s ever kept a pet.

“Bun.”

Natsume, there’s a strange Pokémon outside.

Buneary explained the situation in detail: the Corvisquire secretly watching its phone on the rooftop earlier, dramatically posing under the moonlight to "reflect on life," and then noticing the strange creeping figure on the ground.

“I see.”

Casually dismissing the Corvisquire's dramatic antics, Natsume quickly got dressed and headed to the roof.

“Let’s go take a look. Remember to keep quiet, okay?”

“Bun.”

Covering its mouth with its ears, Buneary nodded solemnly. Not a peep from me!

Chapter Text

A couple of minutes later, another pair of eyes joined the rooftop spectators.

Apart from the Slakoth-like Minccino, which had dozed off in its nest and couldn't be dragged out even after two tries, and the Pokémon that claimed their own territories outside, every member of Natsume's household had gathered on the second-floor terrace, intensely observing the spectacle below.

Each had their own commentary on the scene:

• Buneary: "Looks like it's trying hard."
• Persian: "Zero points. Already exposed."
• Butterfree: "Five points for bravery."
• Corvisquire: "Not even half as good as me."

The Pokémon below, still painstakingly sneaking forward, had no idea that its so-called "stealth mission" had long been noticed.

(Sidenote: These covert operations tend to end in chaotic group confrontations, don't they?)

"Woof!"

After a seemingly endless "stealth approach," the small figure finally reached the pile of junk and eagerly turned its attention to the glass marbles within.

Thanks to the moonlight being blocked by clouds, the marbles had lost their previous luster and allure, looking like nothing more than ordinary, cheap toys you'd find discarded by the roadside.

Even so, the small figure's eyes sparkled as if beholding the most precious treasures in the world.

"Woof!"

With a trembling paw, it reached for the marbles, savoring the moment. Time seemed to stretch infinitely long, even for Natsume and the others watching from above, holding their breath.

Finally—

"Woof!"

Cradling a few glass marbles, the tiny figure looked as though it held the most valuable treasure in existence. The glimmer in its eyes outshone the marbles themselves.

"Woof-woof~"

Hugging its hard-won "treasure," the small Pokémon spun around in joyous circles. A faint melody of delight seemed to drift in the wind, a clear testament to its excitement.

Even the moon, once hidden behind clouds, shyly peeked out, casting its soft glow over the scene.

Under the moonlight, the glass marbles regained their brilliance. The little Pokémon hopped with glee, as if it had received the doll it always dreamed of.

However, happiness is fleeting—for humans and Pokémon alike.

The marbles weren't dropped or lost. No, the little Pokémon suddenly realized—it had been spotted.

As moonlight illuminated the ground, shadows took shape, revealing outlines of everything around, including Natsume and his companions.

Frozen in place, the tiny figure slowly turned around like a rusted machine, stiff and hesitant. Its mind, overwhelmed by the realization of exposure, had gone blank.

For a few seconds, it stared at the rooftop figures bathed in moonlight, their sharp gazes seemingly drilling holes into its small frame. Shadowy outlines and eerie red glows flickered in the darkness.

At least, that was Corvisquire's imagination of the scene.

In reality, upon seeing Natsume, the poor Pokémon's mind crashed entirely. No thoughts of escape plans or survival tactics remained—just one overwhelming realization: Oh no, I'm done for.

Its body screamed for action: "Think of something!"
Its brain: "...Program not responding."

After several agonizing seconds, it finally screamed and bolted. Beneath its tattered cloak, stubby legs churned, creating a comically frantic image as it dashed toward the forest.

"Wait!"

Natsume instinctively reached out, but the little figure was astonishingly fast, vanishing into the tree line with just a few strides.

"Squawk!"
"Should I chase it? I can catch up."

Corvisquire, snapping out of its daydreams, eagerly looked to Natsume for the go-ahead. It had already visualized countless scenarios:

• A swift and clean takedown, followed by a cool "You've got a long way to go," before flying off triumphantly.

• A hard-fought victory, leading to a mutual nod of respect, leaving behind an epic silhouette.

• A narrow defeat, only to rally with its teammates, shouting, "Never underestimate our bond!" as it unlocked its hidden power to emerge victorious.

The last scenario—getting crushed outright—was, of course, excluded.

But Natsume crushed Corvisquire's enthusiasm with a wave of his hand.

"No need."

Snap.
Somewhere, Corvisquire's dreams audibly shattered.

"It's just a bunch of old marbles. I was going to give them to the kids in town anyway. If it likes them, it can have them."

These were childhood toys. Once, they might've sparked arguments or even ended friendships. Now, they barely mattered.

Natsume suddenly understood why characters in stories reconcile over "lost treasures" in their later years.

"Woof?"

The little figure, now at the forest's edge, noticed no one was chasing it. It hesitated, slowing its steps until it came to a stop just before vanishing into the bushes.

Glancing back nervously, it saw Natsume waving at it.

There was no greed, no anger in his expression—just a calm, amused smile, as though he'd witnessed something delightful.

"Woof…"

After a moment's hesitation, the little Pokémon stepped forward, its body half-hidden in the underbrush. With one final glance, it raised a paw and waved back vigorously before disappearing into the forest.

On the ground where it had stood lay a small object.

Natsume, however, wasn't paying attention to that.

"Was that… a Ogerpon?"

Although it was only a fleeting glimpse, Natsume had clearly seen the Pokémon beneath the cloak.

Chapter Text

In Natsume’s memory, Ogerpon seemed to be a Grass-type legendary Pokémon, capable of changing its type and battle style by equipping different masks.

It was likely categorized as a mythical Pokémon, though he wasn’t entirely sure.

Still, because of its adorable design, Natsume felt it must be a mythical Pokémon.

In a northern village infamous among players for its hostile NPCs, Ogerpon was known as "the ghost."

But in truth, it was just a poor child whose masks had been stolen.

Its masks were taken by three Pokémon, and although it fought to retrieve them, it was reviled as an evil Pokémon.

The thieves, on the other hand, were hailed as guardians of the village and affectionately called “Pokémon companions.”

This was Natsume's impression of Ogerpon.

He also had a lingering question from the story:

If Ogerpon had defeated all three Pokémon on its own later, how did it get bullied in the first place?

But after thinking about it, he realized that the outcome of battles isn’t just about strength—it’s also influenced by mindset and environment.

It was like a certain warrior from Fallen Hibiscus King. Strong as they were, they often got outplayed by weaker opponents.

Imagine a beginner Naruto player entering a competitive match with high-tier characters like Kizaru, only to get comboed into submission by a seasoned opponent.

Ending up frustrated was only natural.

Ogerpon’s case might have been similar. At first, it didn’t want to fight, which left it vulnerable to bullying. But once its emotions erupted, it wiped the floor with those bullies.

Of course, that was the original story.

What the current Ogerpon’s situation was, Natsume had no idea.

“Left one for me, huh.”

Looking at the glass marble in his hand, Natsume couldn’t help but chuckle.

The little Pokémon must have thought something like, “Paying to avoid trouble” or “I’ll leave one, so don’t get mad.”

Before running off, it had left him a single glass marble.

For Natsume, these weren’t particularly valuable items.

Even if Ogerpon had taken them all, he wouldn’t have minded.

But since it left one behind, he decided to keep it properly.

Consider it a parting gift, maybe?

“Even though it’s technically mine to begin with.”

Shaking his head with a smile, Natsume turned to his companions following behind him.

“Alright, everyone, time to head back to bed.”

“We’ve got things to do tomorrow morning.”

Clapping his hands, he signaled his Pokémon to return home.

Despite the interruption making him feel wide awake, he believed in maintaining proper rest.

Even if sleep wasn’t coming, lying in bed and resting was important.

This was one of Natsume’s long-held principles.

“Oh, and Corvisquire.”

“Caw?”

“Good thing you didn’t chase after it earlier.”

As a legendary Pokémon, Ogerpon—even if it wasn’t in the mood for a fight and only focused on fleeing—might retaliate if pushed into a corner.

If it had retaliated with a move like Ivy Cudgel, Corvisquire might have ended up demonstrating its ability to fall asleep on the spot.

Young ones sure have it easy—instant sleep.

“Caw?”

Tilting its head, Corvisquire didn’t quite understand.

What do you mean it’s a good thing I didn’t chase? Were you worried my strength might scare that Pokémon?

I see. From now on, I’ll need to restrain myself.

Corvisquire's thoughts had already wandered far. It was imagining scenarios of entering an anime world, strategizing how to achieve a perfect, storybook ending.

Perhaps those who liked novels and anime all had this ability to multitask—responding outwardly while pondering plots in their heads.

Under Natsume’s guidance, the Pokémon returned to their respective rooms.

After placing the glass marble into a drawer, Natsume prepared to return to bed.

“Bun Bun.”

The Buneary naturally climbed onto a nearby recliner, seemingly intending to sleep there from now on.

Persian carried its cushion into Natsume’s room, settled into a corner, and sprawled on it.

Thankfully, Natsume’s room was spacious enough. Even if two more Persian joined, there’d still be space.

Feels like my room’s going to fill up with Pokémon in the future, Natsume thought as he lay in bed, stroking Persian's head.

At least he was glad he was a quiet sleeper—no sleepwalking or snoring.

Even if his Pokémon didn’t mind, Natsume still cared about his image.

---

Meanwhile, Ogerpon—clutching its spoils—ran all the way to a wild, overgrown field. It found its destination and dove headlong into it.

The hidden cave seemed naturally formed, devoid of human interference.

Deep in the cave, Ogerpon finally let out a sigh of relief.

Then it gazed at its glass marbles with unrestrained joy.

Even in the dark, its eyes sparkled like jewels.

“Mm-hmm!”

Playing with the marbles, Ogerpon hummed in delight.

Carefully, it stashed them away with its other treasures—objects it had worked hard to collect.

Of course, they were all items nobody wanted. If someone did, Ogerpon wouldn’t take them.

After all, Ogerpon considered itself a good child.

It plopped down on its makeshift bed of grass and rags.

Though it told itself to sleep, its mind wandered.

Unbidden, it thought of the human it had met earlier.

“Mm-hmm…”

I left one for him before leaving. He shouldn’t be mad, right?

But what if he is? Should I return it?

But I don’t want to… And he didn’t chase me.

He probably isn’t mad… right?

And he didn’t seem to dislike me. Was I mistaken? Everyone usually hates me…

No, I don’t think I was wrong. He doesn’t dislike me… Does he?

Tossing and turning, Ogerpon eventually drifted into an uneasy sleep.

At the same time, it made a decision.

The day after tomorrow—no, tomorrow. I’ll go see him again.

He shouldn’t dislike me. Probably…

---

The Next Morning—

“Bun~!”

Morning!~

“Mi?!?!”

Seeing the disheveled, bed-headed Buneary emerge from Natsume’s room, the Minccino froze in shock.

Did something unthinkable happen last night?!

When Natsume came out to wash up, he found Minccino holding onto Buneary protectively, eyeing him warily.

“…?”

What… just happened?

Chapter Text

After a round of explanations, Minccino finally understood what had happened.

And it was shocked.

Such an interesting event had occurred last night, and none of you bothered to call me?!

So that's how little I mean to you all?!

Nestled in Buneary's arms, the Minccino sobbed pathetically.

“Bun~”

Buneary wanted to explain that it had tried calling it, but the Minccino had been in such a deep sleep that no amount of shaking could wake it.

But seeing its pitiful state now, Buneary swallowed its words and instead turned a pleading gaze to Natsume.

Feeling Buneary's cry for help, Natsume crouched down in front of Minccino and pulled a few pink, sweet-flavored Pokéblocks from his pocket, waving them near its face.

Drawn by the sugary scent, Minccino instinctively looked up, only to shake its head vigorously the next second and bury itself deeper into Buneary's fur.

“Come on, don’t be mad, okay?” Natsume coaxed gently.

“It’s my fault, alright?”

“We didn’t call you last night because cleaning up was exhausting.”

“We just wanted to let you sleep peacefully.”

“Don’t be angry with me, okay?”

First, apologize and soothe. Then, explain and justify. Finally, apologize again while lowering one’s stance.

The sequence flowed seamlessly—like a textbook example of a scoundrel’s playbook.

(Crossed out: Truly, the gold standard for manipulative charmers.)

Ahem. In Natsume’s defense, he had once been a hot-blooded boy with dreams of becoming a Pokémon Trainer.

And for Trainers, the ability to emotionally sway others—sometimes referred to as PUA (Pick-Up Artist) tactics—was a necessary skill.

Building bonds with Pokémon required not only personal charisma but also the judicious application of psychological influence.

To put it simply, this world had plenty of charming manipulators.

This, among other reasons, was why Natsume wasn’t considering romance or marriage for the time being.

(That, and he didn’t feel financially secure enough yet. After accounting for the farm’s expenses, his remaining funds were far from abundant.)

“Mi~”

“Since you put it that way, fine.”

Relenting, Minccino turned with a touch of pride, taking the Pokéblocks from Natsume’s hand with a reluctant air.

But after reflecting on its attitude, it peeked at Natsume. Seizing a moment when he wasn’t looking, it lightly licked his fingertips twice before scurrying off to a corner to savor its treats.

“Alright, that’s settled...”

Natsume turned, thinking the matter resolved, only to catch Buneary staring after Minccino with a stunned expression.

I’ve known you this long, and I never realized you were such a shameless flirt?

Though Buneary didn’t say a word, Natsume could practically see that thought written on its face.

More work to do.

After a round of chaotic appeasement, Natsume finally calmed down the emotions of his Pokémon companions.

“I’ll be relying on you all to watch the house, okay?”

Waving goodbye, Natsume left with Persian and Butterfree, heading toward the town to meet the construction company he’d contacted earlier.

“Caw!”

Blue Corvisquire, eyes glued to the television, absentmindedly squawked in acknowledgment.

From the TV, strange lines of dialogue drifted out:

“Even if burdened by the heavens, I must single-handedly support the Primal Imperial City...”

“Beware the madman sharpening his blade at night, the emperor star wavers as Mars rises...”

Though incomprehensible, it sounded quite impressive.

Corvisquire’s serious demeanor suggested it was about to grab a notebook to start jotting down notes.

Buneary and Minccino promised to diligently guard the house.

Though Buneary wanted to follow Natsume, a few of his sweet-talking phrases had left it dazed and agreeable to staying behind.

As for Sandshrew?

That one had been out digging fields since morning.

For a Ground-type Pokémon fond of burrowing, being assigned an entire plot of land to excavate was a dream come true.

When Natsume pointed to a large, unused area and said, “This is all yours to dig,” Sandshrew’s emotions could only be described as: If you do not mind, I would gladly call you my sworn father.

(Quick skip to: “A true man born under heaven and earth cannot remain beneath others forever!”—crossed out.)

“~♪”

Humming a self-composed tune about farming, Sandshrew arrived at the field as usual.

Ah, these lands. My kingdom!

As Sandshrew admired yesterday’s handiwork, it suddenly noticed something unusual.

Tilting its head, it stared curiously at a slender hole in the ground.

“Sand?”
Did I dig this hole?

After some thought, Sandshrew was certain it hadn’t.

For one, Natsume had always insisted it refill any holes it dug.

Secondly...

Measuring the hole against its claws and body, Sandshrew concluded it was far too small for it to fit through.

As it puzzled over the mystery, a pink head suddenly poked out of the hole.

“Chirr?”

“Sand?!”

Both were equally startled.

Meanwhile, Natsume, strolling down a countryside path, was scrolling through his contact list. Persian lazily padded beside him, while Butterfree danced gracefully in the open air.

For Butterfree, the wide outdoors offered a refreshing environment.

Though life with Natsume—even in the old dorm—had been pleasant, nothing compared to roaming freely in nature.

“Aha, found it!”

Finally locating a contact labeled Miss Machamp, Natsume called the number.

This person ran a small construction workshop near the town, which he had found during his search for a building company.

Though referred to as a “construction company,” it was more like a personal workshop—a Trainer raising a Machamp and Conkeldurr team.

As for the nickname “Miss Machamp”?

When she introduced herself over the phone, she had been so enthusiastic that her words came out muddled. Plus, her social media avatar featured a Machamp carrying bricks. Hence, the name stuck.

Her account name, by the way, was “Machamp Construction & Renovation Team.”

Truly a sophisticated moniker.

“Hello, ma’am.”

“This is Natsume, the one who contacted you earlier.”

“Great, thank you so much. I’ll head to town now and stop by your place in a bit.”

Elsewhere, a young woman lounging in bed suddenly bolted upright with the energy of a fish flopping out of water.

Throwing open the courtyard door, she yelled loudly:
“We’ve got work! Get ready, quick! A client’s coming!”

In the yard, several Machamps and Conkeldurr paused mid-exercise to look at her in confusion.

“Clients? What clients?”

The realization dawned on them.

Oh, right! Construction work.

It had been so long since their last job that they’d almost forgotten they were a construction crew.

The girl’s fists clenched in frustration. These guys...

Chapter Text

“The townspeople are really welcoming,” Natsume muttered, stroking the Persian head resting on his lap as he sat on a public bench. A hint of unease lingered in his tone.

Everyone knows that the aunties at the village gates possess world-class intelligence-gathering abilities.

Although Natsume had only just arrived in the town of Lianshan and had spent most of his days on the farm, it didn’t take long for his basic information to spread among the older locals.

What the uncles and aunties cared about, however, wasn’t his Pokémon or their strength, nor his aspirations for the future.

What they really wanted to know was whether he planned to settle in Lianshan long-term, whether he lived alone, and most importantly: did he have a girlfriend?

That last question only became a hot topic after they had seen Natsume in person.

Some of the elderly, possibly old acquaintances of his distant relatives, even grabbed Natsume’s hand and recounted stories about people he didn’t know, finishing with heartfelt remarks:

“You’ve had a hard life, child.”
“You seem like such a sensible young man.”
“If you ever need anything, just come to Auntie!”

(Though that last line is best taken with a grain of salt.)

While Natsume wasn’t one to completely sever ties with relatives, he found relying on himself to be far more reassuring when it came to unfamiliar people.

Besides, most of the time, Pokémon were more reliable than humans anyway. Loyal and kind—who wouldn’t love adorable Pokémon with such virtues?

Take Gardevoir, for instance, a long-time champion on the “Most Desirable Pokémon to Marry” list.

Humanoid, beautiful, loyal, and protective of their trainers—how could anyone not adore them?

And not just Gardevoir. Even the regional variant, Hisuian Gardevoir, consistently ranks high on the list too.

Who wouldn’t like a cute “little Southern lady”? (Ahem.)

“Purr~”

Persian, contentedly nestled on Natsume’s lap, purred happily as he scratched behind its ears with practiced skill.

It hadn’t understood a single word of what those humans were saying, but since Natsume didn’t seem to mind, it stayed put.

As for Butterfree?

It had entered a blissful daydream mid-conversation.

Perhaps, Butterfree wondered, it had unintentionally learned the move Calm Mind.

Could this mean it actually had a hidden talent for psychic powers?

Still lost in its spiraling thoughts, Butterfree fluttered aimlessly beside them.

“Alright, time to find that contractor,” Natsume said, snapping out of his own musings.

He playfully pinched the Persian's ears into various shapes before giving it a light tap on the head.

“Get up, lazybones.”

Persian, unbothered by the gentle smack, stretched lazily and climbed off Natsume’s lap. It had grown used to this kind of teasing over the years.

When it was just a little Meowth, back when Natsume was in his rebellious “brat phase,” the two of them had shared a chaotic but inseparable bond.

Natsume, in his youth, wasn’t exactly pleasant to be around, and the tiny Meowth had often found itself at the mercy of his antics.

But because Natsume was its trainer—and thus its source of food—it had learned to tolerate being posed in all sorts of silly positions.

Also, it couldn’t win in a fight back then.

Young Natsume had once given Meowth an unforgettable lesson in dominance, using a well-executed sleeper hold to prove who was the boss of the house.

Ah, good times.

---

After following his phone’s navigation, Natsume arrived at a shop labeled “Machamp Construction and Renovation Team (Material Wholesale)”. He triple-checked to make sure he had the right place.

The storefront looked as if it hadn’t been open for quite a while. Then again, so did most shops in town.

These stores seemed to open daily despite appearing perpetually out of business. It made Natsume wonder how they sustained themselves. Were they simply hobbies to pass the time?

“Mr. Natsume, welcome!”

Just as he was about to knock, the door swung open.

Out came a young woman with a somewhat shrewd expression, though her face was not unpleasant to look at. Behind her followed a crew of Machamp and Conkeldurr, all looking like seasoned construction workers.

A perfect lineup for a construction company.

Machamp, known for their obsessive fitness habits, saw brick-laying as just another form of exercise.

Meanwhile, the Conkeldurr line specialized in construction, embodying their love for building and crafting.

Anyone in construction usually owned at least one of each Pokémon.

“Hello, I’m Natsume,” he said, shaking hands with the young woman and briefly explaining his farm’s current state and his plans for it.

Although they had already discussed the project over the phone, face-to-face conversations often allowed for clearer communication.

He also had a few new ideas he wanted to share.

“No problem, boss! Leave it to me!” the woman declared, thumping her chest in a show of confidence.

The sound, oddly reminiscent of knocking on wood, wasn’t quite as impactful as a Machamp’s thump might have been.

But her enthusiasm was genuine.

---

Upon reaching the farm, the Machamp crew wasted no time unloading supplies and getting to work.

Watching the bustling construction scene, Natsume decided to fetch some water for them.

But as he approached the house, he noticed something unexpected by the door.

“Wait, are you saying you caught this little one for me?”

Natsume stared at the pink, adorable Pokémon standing beside Sandshrew, who was puffed up with pride.

So the meme about Pokémon taking the initiative to help trainers catch more Pokémon was real?

“Shrew, shrew!”

Nodding vigorously, Sandshrew dragged the pink Pokémon closer, as if urging it to introduce itself.

The pink Pokémon nervously glanced at Natsume, seemingly worried about whether it would be accepted.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

"Chirrr~"

With tiny paws clasped nervously in front of its chest, the shiny Furret lowered its head, sneaking glances at Natsume from time to time, as though trying to gauge his reaction. If Natsume showed the slightest displeasure or furrowed his brows, the poor Pokémon might decide to leave on its own.

But to the Furret’s relief, Natsume’s expression remained calm and kind throughout. No signs of irritation or rejection could be found.

"I see. I understand now," Natsume said after listening to Sandshrew’s explanation. "Thank you, Sandshrew."

The situation was simple, and unfortunately, all too common for shiny Pokémon. This pink Furret, with its unusual coloration, had been ostracized and bullied by its peers simply for being different.

Although humans might find the pink “living body pillow” incredibly cute, within its own species, being shiny meant being abnormal—a reason for exclusion.

Thus, the young Sentret had been forced to leave its home, embarking on a lonely journey of exile. Who knows how far it wandered before evolving into Furret and eventually settling on Natsume’s farm?

Apparently, it had arrived on the very first night Natsume moved in—his first unexpected “tenant.”

Truthfully, it was a bit of a surprise.

Looking at the visibly tense Furret, Natsume spoke softly, "Hello, Furret. I’m the owner of this farm. Sandshrew must have already told you about me, right?"

The Furret nodded quickly, indicating it was well aware of Natsume—the kind person who provided delicious food. When introducing Natsume, Sandshrew had struggled to find the right words, eventually settling on, “A really good person who gives tasty things to eat.”

Though the description was vague, it hit all the right notes for Furret.

For a wild Pokémon, food was paramount. Questions like "Is this person nice?" or "Will they make me battle?" could only be considered once their stomach was full.

As the saying goes: "Only when the granaries are full do people learn etiquette." Similarly, Furret only needed the promise of food to decide to join the farm. That, coupled with Sandshrew’s reassurance that Natsume wouldn’t force it into battles, sealed the deal.

"I won’t say much more. Would you like to become my companion?" Natsume asked gently. "I’m not a Trainer, so you won’t have to fight, but you’ll need to help out around the farm."

Before Natsume could finish his sentence, Furret’s head bobbed up and down like a metronome. If there had been a Poké Ball in front of it, the Furret would have eagerly slapped it, happily offering itself to Natsume.

A boss who offers food, shelter, and no mandatory battles?

Let’s put it this way: Imagine your boss telling you, "From now on, you’ll work at the same level as a CEO. Just show up, and we’ll provide you with a house and a car—both in your name. Meals are free, and your workload is minimal. You might just sweep the office or walk around occasionally."

To someone like Natsume in his past life, this scenario would have been too good to even dream about.

But now, Furret could proudly say, "Your wildest dreams? I’m living them!"

"Here you go."

Natsume placed a Poké Ball in front of the Furret.

"Chirrr!"

The Furret’s eyes lit up. It immediately slapped the Poké Ball, entering it in a flash of red light. The ball wobbled twice before locking in place.

"Come on out, Furret," Natsume said after the capture was complete. He gently released the Furret and carefully labeled its Poké Ball, ready to store it on the shelf later.

Initially, Natsume had planned to dedicate an entire room to organizing his Poké Balls, knowing he’d likely befriend many Pokémon over time. But for now, a simple shelf would suffice.

After all, big goals are achieved step by step—just like marriage comes after dating.

"Chirrr~"

The newly released Furret swayed slightly before gazing at Natsume with sparkling eyes. Its small paws clasped at its chest, its hopeful intentions as clear as day.

Understanding the Pokémon’s feelings, Natsume smiled and opened his arms.

Seeing this, Furret squealed with excitement and leapt into Natsume’s embrace, nuzzling its soft, pink head against his chin like an affectionate puppy.

"There, there."

As Natsume stroked Furret’s head, a smile naturally spread across his face. Spending time with Pokémon always lifted his spirits.

And speaking of Furret—it had the perfect texture for a body pillow. Long, soft, and incredibly warm. A natural body pillow, really. Though it might be a bit much for summer use...

Meanwhile, Sandshrew crossed its arms, exuding the air of a “seasoned senior.” As the first Pokémon Natsume met on the farm, Sandshrew felt a deep sense of pride.

Sure, Furret, you may be cuddling with Natsume now, Sandshrew thought. But when you’re busy snuggling, I’m out there helping him capture more Pokémon. That’s the power of being a senior Pokémon!

Noticing Sandshrew’s smug expression, Natsume chuckled. He reached out to ruffle Sandshrew’s head and slipped two Ground-type energy cubes into its paws.

In an instant, Sandshrew’s “mature and composed” demeanor vanished, replaced by pure delight as it munched on the cubes.

"Acting all grown-up, huh?" Natsume teased. "You’re still just a kid. Do you know how many adults would love to be your age again?"

In the corner, a Buneary peeked out, tugging on a handkerchief it had somehow found. Its face was filled with envy, a cartoonishly dramatic scene only lacking the signature wavy, seaweed-shaped tears of a manga character.

For the first time, Buneary had found a Trainer it truly liked—a home it wanted to settle into.

But why did it turn out like this?

I was here first. I haven’t even hugged Natsume yet!

Buneary could only stew in its jealousy, feeling completely left out.

Beside it, a Minccino gently patted Buneary on the back. Though it didn’t quite understand the situation, it decided that a smile and a comforting gesture were the safest responses.

Chapter Text

After successfully capturing the Pokémon, Natsume took the shiny Furret on a tour around the farm, introducing it to the other Pokémon living there.

This was part of his daily farm inspection.

Although it was a time-consuming and labor-intensive task, it had become a necessary daily routine during the farm’s early days.

At least until he caught a powerful Psychic-type Pokémon or a Rotom, this work had to be done by him personally.

Powerful Psychic-types typically have high intelligence and can use their psychic abilities to sense and monitor the entire farm. This would allow them to assist Natsume in managing all areas of the property.

As for Rotom, it was even more indispensable. In the modern era, it’s one of the most sought-after Pokémon, not for its combat abilities but for its utility, making it essential for large enterprises.

The same goes for Porygon.

However, since the family business is farming, Natsume prioritized getting a Rotom for now. Porygon could wait.

Huh?

You’re wondering if Natsume has enough machinery on the farm for Rotom to possess?

Heh, welcome to the age of modern tech farms, kid.

“Woof!”

At the edge of the farm, the Mightyena father. excitedly nuzzled Natsume’s hand, its tail wagging like a helicopter rotor.

It completely ignored the disdainful looks from its mate and pup.

Seriously, you're competing with your own kid for attention?

To this, Mightyena. smugly replied: Can’t hear you~

After thoroughly ruffling their head, Natsume left enough Pokéblocks to last the Mightyena family three days.

Though he had repeatedly invited them to hang out near his residence, they still preferred their secluded spot at the farm’s edge, spending most of their days either patrolling or sunbathing.

The Ursaring family nearby had a similar lifestyle.

Unlike the close-knit Mightyena family, the Ursaring clan resembled a treasure-hunting squad that spread out across the farm.

You could find Teddiursa in all sorts of unexpected places.

Just this morning, while washing up, Natsume found a Teddiursa rummaging through his bathroom cabinet, its rear sticking out.

He eventually hauled it out, gave it a few light taps, and left the rest to be scolded by the unimpressed Buneary.

Judging by the little bear’s goofy grin and wagging tongue, though, it clearly wasn’t listening.

Natsume could only sigh.

After all, most Pokémon have childlike intelligence.

And children, by nature, tend to be rebellious.

Scolding rarely works.

---

“These are for me?”

Natsume stood in surprise before a large tree hollow.

The Ursaring family had settled in the farm’s orchard, choosing a spacious hollow as their home.

Inside, treasures they had scavenged from the farm were piled high.

Seeing Natsume arrive, Ursaring pushed out a collection of items they had clearly prepared for him beforehand.

These were things they believed Natsume would like.

“Thank you, Ursaring.”

Patting its smooth fur, Natsume left plenty of Pokéblocks as usual.

Unlike the overly enthusiastic Mightyena father., Ursaring maintained a reserved demeanor, only gently rubbing Natsume’s hand.

“Teddiursa!”

Nearby, a few Teddiursa jumped up and down, eager to show their contributions.

We worked hard too! Pet us!

Chuckling, Natsume patted each little bear’s head in turn.

Energized by their “reward,” the Teddiursa bounced off like children at a sports festival, brimming with energy and ready to continue their treasure hunt.

Feeling a bit embarrassed, Ursaring glanced at Natsume, as if apologizing for its kids’ behavior.

Reassuring the Pokémon with a few more pats, Natsume gathered the gifts and started inspecting them on his way back.

“Let’s see here.”

“A Clefairy plushie, practically new.”

“A can of unused repel? Not sure how useful this’ll be.”

“Is this… a Moon Stone? How’d they even find something like this on the farm?”

Most of the Ursaring family’s gifts were berries, though occasionally, there’d be more unique items.

The plushie and Moon Stone were nice finds, but the repel…

It just felt odd using it on a farm.

For now, he’d set it aside—who knows, it might come in handy someday.

---

“Bzzzt.”

Butterfree’s blue eyes glowed softly as it used Psychic to carry the berries and plushie, easing Natsume’s load.

“Furret?”

Following at Natsume’s side, Furret tilted its head curiously.

There are so many companions on this farm, and they all seem nice.

And none of them give me weird looks.

Except that Mightyena—it seems a bit… slow?

After circling the farm and checking the construction team’s progress, Natsume headed home to drop off his haul.

With Persian supervising the workers, there shouldn’t be any major issues.

While he didn’t think the forewoman was the type to slack off, you could never be too sure these days.

As he reached his doorstep, he spotted a Delibird with a small satchel, holding up a card and repeatedly nodding and lowering its head, seemingly verifying something.

“Hello, are you delivering something?”

Natsume approached quickly.

He’d ordered a batch of materials and equipment for crafting Pokéblocks online recently, so the Delibird was likely delivering those.

“Delibird!”

The Pokémon perked up upon seeing him.

“Delibird! Delibird!”

Where have you been? I’ve been searching for you forever! Knocked on the door, no response!

And that weirdo bird on the second floor just stared at me, muttering who-knows-what like some kind of creep.

Pulling out a clipboard from its uniform, Delibird presented it to Natsume while grumbling.

At the same time, it efficiently pulled a package from its seemingly endless satchel—a box much larger than its bag.

“Sorry, sorry, I was out patrolling the farm.”

“I’ll make sure to give that Corvisquire a talking-to later.”

Signing his name on the receipt, Natsume took the package and apologized sincerely.

Waving dismissively, Delibird flapped its wings and flew off to its next destination.

Halfway through the flight, it paused.

Wait… can that human understand me?

The realization that all its complaints might have been perfectly understood left Delibird mortified.

This… must be what they call dying inside.

Another day, another social blunder.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

In the anime, making Pokéblocks is incredibly simple—just toss some Berries into a machine, press a button, and wait patiently for the process to finish.

In reality, however, crafting Pokéblocks is an intricate and painstaking process requiring great attention to detail.

Even the simplest Pokéblocks require multiple steps: washing the Berries, juicing them, allowing sedimentation, purifying to remove impurities, and carefully blending in precise proportions.

Certain Berries need to undergo repeated processing to achieve the desired effects.

And this is just for the basic Pokéblocks.

In Natsume's mind, some recipes for Pokéblocks border on the fantastical.
The ingredients range from bizarre to outright peculiar, some even requiring the intervention of psychic powers to complete.

As a result, Pokéblocks are a significant expense for Trainers in real life.

If you’re not aiming to be a powerful Trainer and simply see your Pokémon as family members, then regular meals will suffice.

But if you want to grow stronger...

“Sir, would you like this Ground-type Pokéblock for 799 per bag, or this premium one for 1,288 per bag?
Or perhaps you’d prefer a specialized series tailored to a specific Pokémon?
Custom orders are also available, but there might be an additional charge~”

After all, if spending more can make you stronger, what’s there to hesitate about?

Due to the complexity of crafting Pokéblocks, as well as the tradition of most Breeders to withhold key techniques from their apprentices, the price of Pokéblocks remains high.

While not entirely out of reach for the average person, they’re definitely not cheap.

---

“All right, just set it down here.”

Placing the recently delivered box on the floor, Natsume stood up and stretched his shoulders.

What used to be a bedroom on the first floor had been repurposed into a small workspace for making Pokéblocks.

Of course, Natsume didn’t plan to use this room as a permanent workstation. Eventually, efficiency would demand a larger and better-equipped space.

For large factories, ordinary Pokéblocks are already produced through assembly-line automation.
Although Natsume didn’t plan to replicate their methods, he knew he’d need a bigger room to meet the needs of the Pokémon on his farm.

“Fur.”

“Brii.”

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Natsume began unpacking the items from the box one by one.

Beside him, Furret and Butterfree helped organize the contents.

Apart from various Berries, there were a few strange devices and small packets.

Furret’s ears twitched as its big tail swayed behind it.
It was trying its best to understand the purpose of these items.

Berries were for eating—but what about the rest?
Tableware, maybe?
Furret was completely baffled.

After unpacking everything, Natsume casually pushed the box aside.
Noticing this, Butterfree used its psychic abilities to move the empty box into the adjacent storage room while neatly organizing the Berries and equipment.

“Okay, time to make some Pokéblocks! Are you ready, Butterfree?”

Natsume glanced around the tidy room and nodded with satisfaction.
While the workspace would inevitably get messy later, a clean environment always put him in a good mood.

“Brii!”

Butterfree nodded enthusiastically, ready to assist.
It had helped Natsume with Pokéblock-making before and was already familiar with the process.

Just as Natsume was about to say something, he noticed Furret gazing at him expectantly.

Newcomers always hoped to be assigned tasks so they wouldn’t feel awkward standing around.

After a moment’s thought, Natsume said:

“Furret, could you do me a favor? Go tell Buneary to bring over the Berries I prepared earlier.
Then head to the farmland and let Sandshrew know the seeds have arrived.”

“Furr!!”

Hearing its instructions, Furret’s eyes lit up. Its ears perked like antennas receiving a signal.
With an eager cry to show its understanding, it darted out at full speed.

This is my first task from Natsume—I must do it perfectly!

Watching Furret dash off, Natsume chuckled and began preparing to make Pokéblocks.

First, the Berries were washed, chopped, and pitted.
The juice was extracted, and the leftover pulp filtered out.
The juice was then left to settle while other ingredients were prepared.

The small room buzzed with activity as Natsume worked.

---

Meanwhile, after informing Buneary, Furret ran to the farmland to find Sandshrew.
Determined to complete its task quickly, it even used Quick Attack.

In a nearby patch of grass, a Zigzagoon heard a strange sound.
Looking up, it saw a pink-and-white blur streak past like a low-flying meteor.

The resulting gust of wind swept Zigzagoon into the air.

For a moment, Zigzagoon’s mind filled with a single thought:
Mom, I can fly!

Unfortunately, it was just an illusion.

With a resounding thud, Zigzagoon landed face-first on the ground.

Rolling onto its back, it stared blankly at the sky.

“What just happened?”

After a few seconds, Zigzagoon sprang to its feet.

It must’ve been those Poochyena again! Just you wait—I’m getting my gang!

Snarling, Zigzagoon dashed home to rally its brothers for a showdown.

Don’t ask whether we can win. The important thing is that our spirit won’t be defeated!
If we lose today, we’ll fight again tomorrow! Always stay ready for battle!
Five versus three—we have the advantage!

---

Near the farmland, Sandshrew frowned as it examined a patch of earth.

Sure, having land to dig up was great, but wasn’t this supposed to be farmland?
Shouldn’t there be crops or something?

There’s a saying: “No such thing as overworked land, only overworked oxen.”
But Sandshrew felt that if this continued, the land might actually give out before it did.

Just as Sandshrew was lost in thought, a pink blur raced toward it from the distance.

“Fur! Fur!”

Furret arrived, shouting:
“Natsume said the seeds have arrived—he needs you to head back!”

Hearing this, Sandshrew’s eyes lit up.
It curled into a ball and launched into a high-speed spin.

Furret, having stopped abruptly from its sprint, watched Sandshrew zoom past in a blur, its face full of confusion.

“Fur?”

Oh well, no time to think—I need to get back to Natsume.

Shaking its head, Furret quickly followed Sandshrew back home.

---

In the workshop, Natsume’s first batch of Pokéblocks for the farm was ready.

The fragrant aroma of fresh Berries filled the room, mingling with the steam rising from the finished product.

Today’s work: complete.

Chapter Text

A rectangular mold was carefully removed from a device resembling a steamer. Inside was a translucent, jelly-like block of energy food, glistening under the light.

“Phew.”

Wearing thick gloves, Natsume exhaled softly as he placed the mold aside to cool down.

Once it reached the right temperature, he would cut it into smaller portions—ready-to-serve pokéblocks. One such cube could sustain a Pokémon for several days. Of course, this excluded Pokémon like Snorlax, infamous for their insatiable appetites.

“The first batch, done.”

Looking at the first pokéblocks he had crafted since coming to the farm, Natsume nodded with satisfaction.

It seemed his skills hadn’t dulled. While he had only been on the farm for a few days, hands-on tasks like these always required regular practice to maintain proficiency.

“Buneary!”
“Minccino!”

At the doorway, Buneary and Minccino sniffed the air, their eyes sparkling at the enticing aroma wafting through the room.

The freshly made pokéblocks emitted a warm, fruity scent unique to berries—a rare and tantalizing treat for the two little Pokémon.

Seeing their eager expressions, Natsume took off his gloves and tested the cube's temperature. Although still warm, it had cooled enough to be safe to touch. He sliced a small piece off, divided it into three portions, and handed them to Butterfree, Buneary, and Minccino.

Minccino and Buneary received their portions as if they were precious treasures. Unable to wait, they immediately took a bite—only to yelp softly after burning their mouths.

“Fuwah fuwah!”

Both Pokémon instinctively blew on the food to cool it down, their reactions mirroring each other.

“Briii!”

Butterfree floated over, sensing their struggle. Its psychic powers gently lifted the freshly prepared energy cubes, while a light breeze stirred from its fluttering wings.

Move: Tailwind.

“Minccino!”
“Buneary!”

Grateful for Butterfree’s help, the two Pokémon continued blowing on their portions. Once the cubes were cool enough, they popped them into their mouths, their faces lighting up with sheer bliss.

Watching this, Natsume recalled a popular meme:

Reporter: “Do you know what happens when you eat too much junk food?”

Man: “You smile with happiness.”

Of course, pokéblocks were far from junk food.

Turning back, Natsume began preparing the next batch. While pokéblocks technically had a shelf life, no trainer ever let them go to waste. Anyone who did should consider managing a warehouse instead of Pokémon.

As he washed some berries, a dirt-colored blur rolled toward the house, followed by a pink streak zipping close to the ground.

“Sandshrew! Sandshrew!”

Sandshrew rolled to a halt just before crashing into the house, expertly performing a drift and side-parking maneuver. It then trotted excitedly inside to find Natsume.

Furret, on the other hand, wasn’t as skilled. Although it managed to avoid a direct collision, it overshot the house by several meters before coming to an awkward stop.

When Furret finally returned indoors, it saw Sandshrew receiving several pouches from Natsume. The seriousness with which Sandshrew held the bags made it look like a dedicated otaku cradling a collector’s edition of rare merchandise.

Furret tilted its head but didn’t bother asking. It simply filed Sandshrew under the category of "odd Pokémon."

The farm seemed full of quirky Pokémon, from Mightyena Sr., who acted like a goofy dad, to the Zigzagoon and Poochyena perpetually bickering. Now Sandshrew had joined the ranks, along with the Corvisquire upstairs who endlessly recited TV catchphrases.

“Good work, Furret.”

Natsume handed Furret a piece of pokéblock as a reward. Taking a towel from Buneary, he wiped his hands before patting Furret on the head.

Feeling the warmth of Natsume’s palm, Furret closed its eyes in contentment, its tail swaying rhythmically. At that moment, it finally understood why Mightyena Sr. enjoyed these pats so much.

My apologies, Mightyena Sr. I misjudged you before. You're not strange at all.

With that, Furret mentally removed Mightyena Sr. from its blacklist and continued savoring Natsume’s attention.

Meanwhile, Natsume discussed the day’s tasks with Sandshrew.

“These transparent bags contain regular grains, while the ones with patterns hold seeds for Prosperity Grains.”

“We’ll divide the farmland into four sections—two for regular grains and two for Prosperity Grains.”

“Sandshrew!”

Although it didn’t fully grasp why there had to be four sections instead of two, Sandshrew assured Natsume it understood.

Sitting on the doorstep with its pouches and an pokéblock, Sandshrew’s excitement was palpable.

Watching farming videos on the communal tablet had stirred something deep within it. Now, holding the seeds, Sandshrew felt a profound awakening—its Farming Spirit had been kindled.

Upstairs, Corvisquire paced back and forth, refining its battle combos—not strategies like "Toxic Stall," but stylish moves for flair. Essentially, it was practicing taunts to mock opponents after a victory.

Amid its dramatic rehearsal, the egg in Natsume’s incubator wobbled ever so slightly.

Inside, a small life impatiently waited to emerge, eager to experience the world.

As dusk fell, the setting sun painted the horizon with hues of orange and red.

Deep within its cave, Ogerpon stretched lazily and performed a series of warm-up exercises.

"Hum!”

In a little while, it would go meet the human from yesterday.

Clenching its tiny fists, Ogerpon cheered itself on.

You can do this, Ogerpon. There’s nothing scary out there. Just ordinary things. Absolutely nothing to fear...

But as it peeked outside, doubt crept in.

It’s terrifying! Why did I think I could do this?!

“Hmmm—”

The cave echoed with Ogerpon’s panicked cries.

Chapter Text

Under the dim sky, Ogerpon sat quietly near the entrance of the cave, waiting for night to fall.

"Hmmm..."

Staring at the desolate landscape outside, Ogerpon's mind began to wander.

When exactly had it arrived here?

It couldn't remember. Perhaps it had been one or two months ago. Back then, neither humans nor Pokémon liked it in the place where it lived.

For some reason, they all seemed to dislike it.

After several failed attempts to make friends, Ogerpon made a decision:

I'll leave this place and start a new life somewhere no one knows me.

So, on a moonless and windy night, Ogerpon packed its small belongings and set off on a journey.

It had no destination or specific requirements, just an impulsive decision to leave.

The journey wasn't a kind one.

Despite trying hard to stick to remote paths, it still occasionally encountered rangers.

When trainers discover an exceptionally rare Pokémon they've never seen before, their reactions are predictable.

It wasn’t just humans. Even the Pokémon it encountered weren’t friendly.

No Pokémon wanted a newcomer stealing food in their territory.

Fleeing time and time again, Ogerpon eventually stumbled into the area near the farm.

It found this hidden cave in a barren patch of land and decided to settle down.

After arriving, Ogerpon spent some time adapting to the environment.

Food was scarce, but it was safe.

A few nights ago, it discovered the farm. Venturing in for a little exploration, it was accidentally spotted by a human.

At that time, Ogerpon panicked.

Fortunately, that human hadn’t attacked it.

"Hmm!"

Unsure how much time had passed, Ogerpon came to its senses as the sky grew darker.

It stood up, slapped its small face lightly to stay alert, and donned its carefully prepared "stealth outfit" before setting off.

Just as it was about to leave the cave, something came to mind. It turned back, rummaged through the cave's depths, and pulled out two glass marbles, clutching them tightly.

"Hmmm!"

Standing at the cave entrance, Ogerpon cheered itself on.

You can do this!

After taking a deep breath, it somersaulted forward, tumbling out of the cave and vanishing into the tall grass.

A few seconds later, it cautiously poked its head up to observe. Confirming no Pokémon had noticed it, it began crawling forward in a prone position.

Though crawling, its speed was surprisingly on par with a human walking briskly.

Is this the power of a Legendary Pokémon? (Not really.)

With its "twisted and shadowy crawling," Ogerpon managed to reach the edge of the farm just as night fell.

"Woof..."

Inside the newly repaired doghouse, Mightyena's ears twitched before its eyes snapped open.

This small doghouse was built by the construction team while they were repairing the fence earlier in the afternoon.

Since there were leftover materials, the lead craftsman had made it for fun during his break, even hanging a sign that read "Doghouse."

Mightyena quietly exited the house, its eyes sharp and alert.

It had caught the scent of something unfamiliar!

Its keen gaze scanned the surroundings and eventually locked onto a small figure attempting to climb over the fence.

Hmm, green, wearing strange clothes, very small, and looking quite timid.

Ah, now it remembered—this was the one Natsume had mentioned.

Natsume had said not to bother it if it came by and to just let it in.

The vigilance in Mightyena's eyes faded. With a yawn, it turned back to the doghouse to rest.

It had the night shift later, so it needed to catch up on sleep.

As for its rowdy pups who’d gotten into a fight with some Zigzagoon and Poochyena earlier in the day, Mightyena decided it would teach them how to fight properly starting tomorrow.

Back in the doghouse, Mightyena looked at its foolish offspring and shook its head.

What could it do? They were its pups, after all.

Though clumsy and dimwitted, they were still its responsibility.

After confirming Ogerpon had climbed over the fence, Mightyena pawed at its bedding, found a comfortable position, and lay back down.

"Hmmm..."

Finally, it was inside.

After climbing over the fence, Ogerpon didn’t linger. It leapt forward with a "belly flop," disappearing into the bushes to hide.

Only after catching its breath did it notice a faint, enticing aroma.

Sniffing carefully, Ogerpon realized the scent was familiar.

It was the kind of smell it remembered from Pokémon that had been caught by trainers.

But this aroma was much richer.

Unconsciously, Ogerpon followed the scent, its feet moving as if guided by an invisible force.

When it came to its senses, it was already in front of a two-story building.

This seemed to be where that human lived.

A shiver ran down Ogerpon's spine, and it quickly ducked back into the bushes.

Through a small gap, it peeked at the house.

In its eyes, the house stood out against the night, a warm anomaly dispelling the darkness and fear.

Even at this distance, it could faintly hear the lively sounds from within.

Changing its angle slightly, Ogerpon managed to see through an open window.

The human it had seen before was busy with something, surrounded by several Pokémon who occasionally took something from the human's hands and eagerly ate it.

They looked so happy.

Ogerpon stared blankly at the scene before it.

A complicated emotion welled up in its chest.

"Hmm..."

Clutching its chest, Ogerpon hung its small head low.

What was this feeling?

It was strange and unfamiliar.

Am I... hungry?

Having lived alone in the wild for so long, rarely interacting with humans or even other Pokémon, Ogerpon couldn’t quite understand its current emotions.

They were hard to describe—just uncomfortable and unpleasant.

---

“How is it? Do you like the taste?”

Inside the workshop, Natsume cut off some edges from a freshly made batch of Pokéblocks and handed them to his Pokémon.

He’d spent the entire afternoon experimenting with various basic recipes he hadn’t tried before.

With so many formulas in his mind, there were still plenty left to test.

His Pokémon took turns expressing their opinions.

Minccino and Sandshrew found it average, while Buneary and Furret seemed to enjoy it more.

“Meow~”

Persian, sitting by Natsume’s side, perked up its ears as if noticing something.

It rubbed against Natsume’s hand and gestured for him to look outside.

“There...”

Following Persian's gaze, Natsume spotted a small head hanging low in the darkness.

Chapter Text

In the darkness, Ogerpon's little head drooped slightly, its silhouette faintly visible.

Although it was unclear what had happened, the Pokémon seemed downcast.

Perched by the window, Minccino and Buneary curiously observed the unfamiliar Pokémon from afar. They seemed to silently agree: if all went well, this little one would likely join the farm soon.

Watching Ogerpon sulking alone in the shadows, Natsume decided to act. He rummaged through his cabinet and retrieved the pokéblocks he had prepared earlier that afternoon.

There were about twenty different types of cubes, including ones suitable for all Pokémon and several specifically for Grass-types. After all, aside from Bug-types, Grass-types were the most common Pokémon in the wild.

Natsume always believed in being prepared. You never knew when these would come in handy.

Carefully portioning the cubes into small bags, he sealed each one neatly and placed them into a single package. When he looked up again, Ogerpon was no longer sulking but watching him with a mix of envy, unease, and longing.

The moment their eyes met, Ogerpon froze.

Its entire body stiffened, as if caught by a paralysis move. Then came a wave of panic, and the urge to flee took over.

But as it turned to leave, it hesitated.

Remembering Natsume’s previous gentle demeanor, Ogerpon cautiously glanced back. Through the window, Natsume held up the small package, looking genuinely concerned.

There was no malice in his gaze.

Sensitive as they were, children and Pokémon alike could instinctively detect ill intentions.

And Pokémon, like children, were often pure-hearted beings.

After a moment of hesitation, Ogerpon turned back, inching out of the bushes.

Step by step, it cautiously approached the window, all while keeping a watchful eye on Natsume, ready to bolt at any moment.

Natsume noticed this and deliberately slowed his movements, ensuring he wouldn’t frighten the wary little Pokémon.

“Hello there, Ogerpon,” Natsume greeted softly as the Pokémon neared the window.

The sudden sound startled Ogerpon, making it flinch. But after a couple of seconds, seeing that Natsume remained still, it timidly replied, “Hmmm…”

Hello.

“My name is Natsume. I run this farm,” he said gently, stretching an empty hand out the window. “Would you like to be friends?”

...

Ogerpon hesitated, but after a brief pause, it quickly darted forward to lightly touch Natsume’s hand before retreating to a safe distance.

Its tiny heart raced as if it had just accomplished a monumental feat.

In its mind, the barrier of wariness had now largely dissolved.

First steps were always the hardest.

“Would you like to come inside?” Natsume invited.

Ogerpon hesitated again but shook its head to decline.

Natsume didn’t mind at all. He had merely extended the offer to see what would happen. A refusal at this stage was only natural.

Building trust took time, just like developing any relationship.

“Here,” he said, holding out the small package of pokéblocks. “I made these this afternoon. Would you like to try them? I’d love to hear your feedback.”

Although it felt a little awkward to say, Natsume couldn’t deny it—he was quite fond of Ogerpon.

Who wouldn’t like a cute and tiny Pokémon like this?

Yes, he admitted it openly.

He was drawn to Ogerpon’s charm!

And he was unapologetic about it.

Better to be honest than to act aloof, pretending not to care while secretly longing. The era of “tsundere” attitudes was long over.

Watching Ogerpon cautiously sniff the package, its eyes lit up with excitement. It eagerly nodded and reached out, carefully clutching the small bag to its chest.

Then, as if suddenly remembering something, Ogerpon pulled out two small glass beads from… somewhere.

“Hummm!”

It squeaked, offering the beads to Natsume.

Natsume quickly realized what Ogerpon meant. If Natsume was upset about anything Ogerpon had done before, the beads were meant to make amends.

“You don’t have to,” Natsume said with a chuckle. “Didn’t you already leave me one of these last time?”

Relieved, Ogerpon’s face lit up, and it quickly stashed the beads back into its bag.

This human… is a good person!

Ogerpon gazed at Natsume with sparkling eyes, its trust solidified. It now knew, without a doubt, that this human was unlike anyone it had encountered before.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

Morning sunlight filtered through the glass, casting a warm glow in the room as tiny particles danced in the air currents. From the window, a heartwarming scene unfolded.

A handsome boy lay fast asleep on his bed, cradling a shiny pink Furret in his arms. At the foot of the bed, a Persian slept soundly, shielding its head with its paws from the piercing sunlight. On a lazy recliner, a petite Minccino stretched languidly, loosening its tiny limbs.

After rubbing the sleep from its eyes, Minccino glanced out the window at the scenery before hopping lightly onto the pillow to nudge Natsume awake.

"Minccino," it squeaked softly.

"Morning, Minccino," Natsume mumbled as he groggily opened his eyes. Smiling at the adorable Pokémon so close, he reached out and gently ruffled its head, eliciting a blissful expression from the tiny creature.

A few minutes later, Natsume stood in the bathroom, hair a chaotic mess, brushing his teeth while scrolling through his phone. Beside him, Minccino diligently brushed its teeth with its miniature toothbrush, mirroring its trainer’s routine.

It had been about a week since the mischievous Ogerpon had "visited" Natsume’s farm. That night, Natsume hadn’t captured Ogerpon, choosing instead to establish a bond of friendship. Before leaving, Natsume had told the Pokémon it was welcome to visit the farm anytime.

Although it had agreed, Ogerpon had only shown up three times during the week. Each time, it would sneak in under the cover of darkness, empty its little pouch of energy cubes, and quietly refill it before skulking away. Its "stealth" efforts were far from flawless, though. Every time it climbed the fence, the Mightyena family would quietly observe from a distance, occasionally whispering comments:

"Its moves are getting smoother."

"But seriously, look at those stubby legs—it’s not even trying to jump properly."

Pure slander, of course.

Natsume pushed open the window, and the farm’s lively scene stretched out before him. Compared to its neglected state when he first arrived, the farm was now brimming with life.

Near the fields, Sandshrew in its straw hat strolled leisurely with a small watering can, greeting a line of passing Cottonee. In addition to the Pokémon Natsume had officially captured, the farm was also home to some "wild residents." Natsume didn’t plan on catching all of them—so long as they didn’t cause trouble, they were free to stay.

The fields, divided into neat quadrants, were lush and green. The crops—ordinary grains and the specialty Gracidea grains Natsume had brought—were growing well. Interestingly, while two fields were just sprouting, the other two were nearly ready for harvest.

This discrepancy was due to Natsume's "experiment." Two plots were planted with regular grains, and two with Gracidea grains. For one plot of each type, Natsume had infused it with his "knockoff Viridian Force," nurturing them daily. The results were impressive: the infused crops grew significantly faster and even seemed to have mutated—thankfully in a beneficial way.

Natsume planned to sell the regular crops while keeping the infused ones for personal use on the farm. He also intended to experiment with using his power to speed up the growth of berries and see if they could enhance his energy cubes.

"Sandshrew~"

The diligent Pokémon pulled out a large sack and used its tiny paws as makeshift scoops to sprinkle powdered remnants onto the soil. These leftovers, byproducts from Pokéblock production, served as excellent fertilizer. Natsume had also saved berry seeds, experimenting with sprouting them thanks to tips he’d found online.

"Good morning, Furret. Morning, Butterfree. Morning, Buneary. And you, Corvisquire—did you stay up late again?" Natsume teased as he greeted his Pokémon one by one. "You know, staying up too late can cause serious feather loss for bird Pokémon."

As for Persian? It had only come back to the room at dawn after patrolling the grounds overnight, seemingly treating the property as its personal territory. Thanks to Persian’s efforts, Natsume always slept peacefully, knowing any trouble would be swiftly detected.

Just as Natsume was about to head out for his usual farm inspection, a commotion erupted in the distance. Listening closely, he realized it came from the Mightyena family—and this time, their barks carried a sense of urgency.

"What’s going on?" Natsume muttered, puzzled, as he hurried toward the noise, accompanied by Butterfree and his shiny Furret. Persian, reluctantly waking from its nap, stretched and followed lazily, looking visibly grumpy from its disrupted sleep.

At the farm’s edge, the Mightyena family had formed a semi-circle around a young boy, who stood flustered and defensive. Two Pokémon accompanied him, one on either side.

"Wait, wait, I mean no harm!" the boy stammered, clearly overwhelmed as the Mightyena continued to growl and block his path.

The Mightyena father, ever vigilant, had instantly deemed the boy suspicious after catching him loitering near the farm’s borders early in the morning.

"What’s going on here?" Natsume called out, arriving on the scene.

"I’m the owner of this farm, Natsume. And you are?" he asked, directing a firm gaze at the intruder.

"Woof, woof!" barked Mightyena senior, launching into a spirited report: This guy’s been skulking around since early morning. Definitely up to no good!

Natsume turned back to the boy, waiting for his explanation.

"My name is Fu Gu," the boy stammered. "I’m a traveling Trainer. I stumbled across this place during my journey and got curious, so I stopped to take a closer look."

Fu Gu’s nervous demeanor didn’t inspire much confidence. While his intentions might have been innocent, his excessive curiosity had clearly crossed a line. Most people find overly curious individuals more irritating than endearing—something Fu Gu had yet to grasp.

Chapter Text

‘So much for just “passing by,” huh?’

Looking at the boy decked out with a travel backpack and a fully equipped outdoor jacket, Natsume couldn’t help but inwardly ridicule him.

As mentioned before, Trainers and anglers share some similarities to a degree: they both seek out uncharted territories. Only the greenest of greenhorns would obediently stick to well-trodden paths.

More experienced Trainers, however, constantly search for untouched, unspoiled regions.

Remote mountains, desolate wilderness, barren landscapes—none of these faze them. The fewer the people, the better.

Fewer people mean more treasures and rare Pokémon. At least, that’s the idea; fewer visitors usually equate to greater rewards.

What’s that? You think places with bad environments might not have Pokémon?

Don’t underestimate the adaptability of Pokémon!

Sky, land, deep sea, rainforests—there’s hardly a corner of the world where Pokémon don’t exist. Even space and alternate dimensions are known to harbor Pokémon.

As for this kid, Fu Gu, who called himself a "traveling Trainer," it reflected one of two major classifications of Trainers in this world: Travelers and Academics.

Traveler Trainers often forgo higher education after high school, embarking on journeys to explore and challenge gyms. Some even start traveling right after middle school.

Of course, for safety reasons, officials recommend beginning such journeys only after completing high school.

On the other hand, Academic Trainers progress through the traditional route—studying, taking exams, and pursuing degrees. Many continue into postgraduate studies before embarking on their Trainer careers.

The rivalry between the two groups has always been a hot topic, with both sides exchanging plenty of derogatory nicknames over the years.

While both paths ultimately lead to similar destinations, that doesn’t stop the two camps from looking down on one another.

This divide also shows up in competitive recruitment during college entrance exam season—similar to those annoying telemarketing calls.

Natsume had been through this before. In the end, between Traveler and Academic, he chose a third option: not becoming a Trainer at all.

Instead, he declared, “I’m heading home to inherit the farm!”

And as fate would have it, here we are.

“So, what brings you here, young man?”

Natsume’s thoughts returned to the present as he eyed the boy in front of him, along with the Aipom and Weepinbell at his side. Judging by their overall energy, the boy wasn’t bad.

For context, Pokémon strength in this world is broadly categorized into six levels:

• Rookie (1–10)

• Standard (11–25)

• Elite (26–40)

• Gym Leader (41–55)

• Elite Four (56–70)

• Champion (71–80)

This international system has some flexibility depending on the region, but it generally applies across the board. In Natsume’s home region, the translations align with these levels.

Based on observation, Fu Gu’s Pokémon seemed to hover around Level 20, marking him as a rookie—but a competent one.

“If possible, I’d like to challenge you to a battle.”

Fu Gu bowed slightly, his eyes sparkling with excitement. His gaze kept drifting to the shiny Furret by Natsume’s side.

A shiny Pokémon! It was his first time seeing one in real life.

Anyone capable of capturing a shiny Pokémon had to be strong, right?

The boy’s thoughts were innocent enough.

“...”

Though Natsume had already guessed as much, he couldn’t help but feel a little exasperated. Trainers, after all, were like this—always hunting for battles wherever they went.

The whole “our eyes met, so we must battle” thing was practically a motto.

Compared to Trainers, anglers seemed like a much quieter bunch. At least they stayed still while fishing. Well, except for when they got lost trying to find their way home.

Natsume glanced at his own Pokémon lineup.

Shiny Furret: Level 25, barely on par with the opponent’s strength. Having recently joined the farm, Furret hadn’t undergone any rigorous training yet.

Butterfree: Level 29, trained early on as both a mainstay and a tactical support Pokémon. It specialized in varied and... well, dirty strategies.

Persian: Level 53, by far the farm’s strongest battler. This Pokémon had been with Natsume since childhood, benefiting from years of specially-crafted Pokéblocks.“Well, why not?”

Scratching his head, Natsume shrugged and agreed. Might as well treat it as morning exercise.

“Would a 2v2 battle work for you?”

“No problem!” Fu Gu nodded eagerly, ready to go.

Since this wasn’t an official match, the two skipped the formalities and got right to it.

“Aipom, prepare for battle!”

“You good to go, Butterfree?”

Unlike Fu Gu’s enthusiasm, Natsume calmly turned to his Butterfree for confirmation.

“Freee~”

After a moment of thought, Butterfree nodded. It had been a while since its last fight—time to stretch those wings.

“Alright then. Let’s begin.”

The battle commenced with Aipom flashing a mischievous grin before letting out an ear-piercing screech.

Scary Face, designed to startle opponents and make them flinch.

But Butterfree remained unfazed, quickly gaining altitude. A blinding flash of light followed, leaving Aipom’s vision entirely white.

“Screeech—!”

“Ah, crap!”

The sudden flash not only blinded Aipom but also Fu Gu himself, leaving him teary-eyed. By the time his vision cleared, the sight before him was... unsettling.

A thick, purplish liquid coated Aipom’s face.

Above, Butterfree’s wings glimmered, scattering a mix of glittering powders—paralysis powder, poison powder, and rage powder—all drifting toward Aipom.

Purple liquid? Likely Toxic.

The combination of powders? A Sleep Powder + Air Cutter + Supersonic cocktail, garnished with disruption tactics.

Floating leisurely in the air, Butterfree continued bombarding Aipom with poison and ranged attacks, occasionally tossing in Psybeam or Air Slash to interrupt any counter-moves.

A few minutes later, Aipom lay sprawled on the ground, covered in unidentifiable purple fluids, tongue lolling out, with an oddly serene expression of relief.

As Fu Gu frantically administered antidotes, he glanced at Natsume with a hint of grievance.

Natsume, utterly unbothered, simply remarked, “Dirty tricks are an essential part of a Trainer’s repertoire, young man. If this rattles you, you’ve still got a long way to go.”

“Weepinbell, your turn!”

Taking a deep breath, Fu Gu steadied himself.

Fine. You want tricks? My Weepinbell can play that game too! Paralysis Powder, Poison Powder, Growth, and Vine Whip—it could outlast Butterfree through sheer attrition.

That was his plan, at least.

Until he heard Natsume issue the next command:

“Butterfree, Psychic Earth Toss. Ready.”

Fu Gu could only watch, dumbstruck, as his Weepinbell was lifted high into the air—then slammed down with brutal force.

Fu Gu: ...

Damn it!

Chapter Text

A few minutes later, Fu Gu squatted on the ground with a defeated expression, spraying potion on his Weepinbell.

The brief battle just now had plunged him into deep despair.

Sure, the tactics Natsume used were technically things that had been taught in school, but experiencing them firsthand was a whole different level of frustration.

Dirty tactics were despised for a reason: they were infuriating and often seemed impossible to counter.

Strictly speaking, every underhanded strategy had been thoroughly researched, with countermeasures meticulously developed over the years.

But remembering all of them? Impossible.

There were simply too many strategies, and just as many counters.

His brain couldn’t keep up. Managing to memorize a handful of the basics already felt like an achievement.

With a heavy sigh, Fu Gu sank further into his melancholy.

Natsume, on the other hand, fully empathized.

When he first arrived in this world, Natsume had been brimming with confidence.

He thought his past-life experience with strategy games might not make him an unbeatable champion but would at least let him dominate the rookie scene.

Then he opened a textbook full of complex tactics, and reality hit him like a brick wall.

In hindsight, it made sense. The strategies he knew were merely the product of gaming communities, limited in scope and creativity.

How could they possibly compare to the collective ingenuity of an entire world dedicated to Pokémon training for decades?

A younger Natsume had been utterly demolished by his own overconfidence.

The harsh realities of this world hammered humility into him—figuratively and, sometimes, literally.

Natsume quickly realized that his brain wasn’t cut out for intricate battle strategies.

Whether it was before or after his reincarnation, complex operations were never his forte.

So he decided: if finesse wasn’t his game, then brute force would have to do.

When raising his Corvisquire, Natsume focused entirely on boosting its size and defense.

Simple. Direct. Effective.

The plan was for it to become an impenetrable wall and, after evolving into a Corviknight, dominate the battlefield with powerful attacks like Brave Bird.

Unfortunately, the dream was cut short when his priorities shifted from becoming a Pokémon trainer to running a farm.

Life took him down a completely different path, and now the idea of returning to professional training felt like a distant memory.

Still, Natsume didn’t regret it. If anything, he’d found a new kind of fulfillment.

Fu Gu, meanwhile, struggled to put his feelings into words.

"Master Natsume… battling you was… uh…"

He wanted to say the usual niceties: "That was such an exhilarating fight!" or "I’ve learned so much from our battle!"

But he couldn’t.

In truth, just holding back tears was a feat of emotional strength.

“It’s okay,” Natsume replied dryly, unsure how to comfort him.

“Don’t worry, Master Natsume. I’m fine.”

Fu Gu slapped his cheeks and forced a smile, though it didn’t entirely mask his lingering frustration.

Defeat was a normal part of a trainer’s life, after all.

Failure is the mother of success, right? Well, Fu Gu felt like he’d received more than his fair share of maternal affection today.

“Oh, by the way, Master Natsume,” Fu Gu suddenly said, “I have this habit of documenting my travels on the forum.”

Many trainers enjoyed sharing their experiences online for various reasons—whether to chronicle their journeys, brag about their accomplishments, or offer advice to newcomers.

It was also a subtle way of proving they were still alive.

If a trainer’s account suddenly went silent, especially after a post about exploring the wilderness, it usually wasn’t a good sign.

In the wild, going missing and dying were often one and the same, though the term "missing" gave families a small glimmer of hope.

After hearing Fu Gu’s explanation, Natsume thought for a moment before agreeing.

His farm didn’t have much to hide—aside from the occasional visit from Ogerpon or his secret psychic powers.

A little publicity wouldn’t hurt.

The days of relying on “quality speaks for itself” were long gone. Even the best products needed online marketing these days.

"Thank you so much, Master Natsume!"

Fu Gu left with a spring in his step, happily clutching some energy cubes Natsume had casually handed him as a parting gift.

---

Walking down a rural path, Fu Gu began updating his forum log:

"Just visited a farm near Lianshan Town, run by a trainer named Natsume. Great guy! He even gave me some homemade pokéblocks—way better quality than the ones you find in stores."

When it came to strength, Fu Gu hesitated.

Thinking back to his utterly defeated Aipom and Weepinbell, he paused before typing:

"I’d recommend any rookie trainers challenge him. It’s a… good learning experience."

Why should he suffer alone? Sharing the pain was the least he could do, right?

Not that it mattered much—his forum account barely had any followers. Most of the views were either his own or from bots.

Thinking about it only made him feel worse.

---

Back at the farm, Natsume was finally wrapping up his chores.

As he approached his house, he was greeted by a cacophony of panicked cries from inside.

Corvisquire, Minccino, and Buneary were all frantically shouting over one another.

Corvisquire flew out from the second floor in a rush, spotting Natsume and immediately squawking in alarm:

“Caw! Caw! Caw! Natsume! The egg you brought back—it’s glowing! Is it going to explode?!”

“What?!”

Natsume’s eyes widened as he bolted inside.

“Meow.”

Persian glanced at Corvisquire with a withering look. Fool. It’s hatching.

Then, with a flick of its tail, Persian followed Natsume inside.

Chapter Text

Inside the incubator, a Pokémon egg with blue and red patterns shook violently, pulsing with rhythmic bursts of light resembling breaths.

At a glance, it almost looked like a bomb about to explode.

"Bunn!"

Spinning in a panic, Buneary calmed down the moment Natsume arrived, darting to him as if seeking reassurance, waving its little arms wildly.

"Relax, relax. It’s fine," Natsume said soothingly.

He had a pretty good guess about the egg with the blue and red diamond-shaped patterns. After all, in the Pokémon world, not many Pokémon sported this coloration.

Could it be one of those jet fighters?

"Buneary, could you go downstairs and grab two bottles of Moomoo Milk for me? And bring the pokéblocks I packed in the pink pouch."

"And Minccino, please prepare a clean towel and a basin of warm water."

Even though he wasn’t sure if he’d need all of it, Natsume preferred to be prepared. Caring for a newly hatched Pokémon was entirely different from reading about it online.

"Bun!"

"Mi!"

The two Pokémon dashed off towards the stairs to complete their tasks.

Behind Natsume, Persian padded into the room. It glanced at the soon-to-hatch egg, then at Corvisquire, who was crouching by the incubator like a fool, its face almost pressed against the glass.

"Meow~"

Letting out a soft sigh, Persian nudged Corvisquire out of the way, completely ignoring its squawks of protest. It also herded Furret and Sandshrew out of the room for good measure.

Before stepping out, Persian used its tail to gently nudge the door closed, leaving it open just a crack—wide enough for the Pokémon outside to peek in without disturbing Natsume.

Persian vaguely remembered reading somewhere that a newly hatched Pokémon often bonded with the first being it saw, considering them the closest presence in its life.

For this reason, most trainers chose to be alone in the room during such moments, even excluding their closest companions.

Where had Persian picked up that tidbit?

Ah, yes. It was back when a younger Natsume had been struggling with schoolwork and dragged Persian into his studies, explaining textbook material as if it were a captive student.

Peering through the crack in the door, Persian watched as Natsume calmly prepared everything. It couldn’t help but feel a twinge of nostalgia.

The mischievous little boy had grown up.

Granted, Natsume had always seemed mature for his age, but there was a certain unchanging essence about men.

High EQ phrasing: "A man’s heart is forever youthful."
Low EQ phrasing: "Boys stay childish no matter how old they get."

"Bunn!"

Carrying milk and energy cubes, Buneary handed the supplies to Natsume before retreating to sit beside Persian, peeking into the room.

Minccino followed suit.

Many people underestimated the strength of smaller Pokémon, assuming their petite stature meant limited power.

In reality, even "small and cute" Pokémon like Buneary could knock the wind out of you with a single punch.

Inside the room, Natsume carefully lifted the egg out of the incubator and placed it into a small, prepared nest.

Unconsciously, sweat formed in his palms. The birth of new life always carried a sense of awe and profound emotion.

Finally, a crisp "crack" sounded.

The egg bathed in white light began to change.

When the glow faded, a small Pokémon still mostly encased in its eggshell appeared before Natsume.

It blinked its wide eyes in confusion, the hazy world around it gradually coming into focus.

In its emerging vision, one figure dominated the view.

"Tokii?"

Guided by instinct, the tiny Pokémon reached out with its arms.

Warm hands gently scooped it up.

"Hello, Togepi," Natsume greeted with a smile. "I’m Natsume. From now on, we’re family."

Togepi, its tiny lips puckered, didn’t quite understand the words. But the warmth of Natsume’s presence and the comforting aura he exuded were enough to make it instinctively clutch his shirt.

"Toki-toki!"

Nestled in Natsume’s arms, Togepi happily kicked its little feet, enjoying the milk Natsume fed it from a bottle.

The milk, warmed to just the right temperature, was mixed with crushed energy cubes specially made for young Pokémon, giving it a sweet flavor that Togepi adored.

Once its belly was full, Togepi was placed back in its nest.

Curious, its tiny eyes roamed around the vast and unfamiliar world. To the newborn, everything seemed enormous.

"Toki!"

Gripping the corner of its blanket, Togepi attempted to roll over, but after several tries, its tiny limbs couldn’t muster enough strength to accomplish the task.

Squirtle could surely relate.

"Mi-mi!"
"Ri-ri!"

Outside the door, Natsume’s Pokémon waited impatiently.

After Togepi’s birth, Persian had closed the door even tighter, wary of the group’s noisy antics scaring the newborn.

Persian understood this little one would be the farm’s center of attention for the foreseeable future.

Although Natsume believed in treating all his partners equally, emotions weren’t always so easily controlled. It was inevitable that his focus would shift to the newcomer for a while.

As the de facto second-in-command on the farm, Persian saw it as its responsibility to care for the new arrival and maintain harmony among the other Pokémon.

The last thing it wanted was petty squabbles over attention.

Glancing at the gathered Pokémon, Persian appeared as calm as ever, but its mind was already planning.

"Meow~"

Its tail swished lazily. A cat’s thoughts were always mysterious and difficult to discern.

The door creaked open slightly.

Natsume peeked out, addressing the group softly. "Togepi’s asleep. You can come in and see, but don’t wake it up."

At his words, the Pokémon quietly—well, as quietly as they could—poured into the room.

Gathering around Togepi’s little nest, they gazed at their new companion with curiosity and affection.

"Does this make me a senior now?"

Furret tilted its head, staring at Togepi’s sleeping face adorned with a goofy smile.

Its tail swayed gently, a clear sign of its good mood.

Chapter Text

They say Togepi is a Pokémon that represents luck and happiness.

Its eggshell is said to be filled with joy, and when it feels content, it shares the luck inside its shell with others. As the Trainer of a Togepi, one is supposedly blessed with good fortune, leading to a blissful life.

Of course, there’s no scientific basis for this claim—just folklore.

Much like the saying, “If you’re single by thirty, you’ll qualify as a grand wizard.”

In short, nonsense.

“Togeee~ Toge!”

Togepi darted around the room, clutching the little blanket it had been born with.

Newborns are always curious, filled with an endless energy to explore the world.

From the bed to under the table, from the window to the doorway—Togepi's enthusiasm knew no bounds.

“Bun bun!”

Buneary, holding a milk bottle, frantically chased after it.

Given that Natsume often had to step out, he’d entrusted Buneary with a very important task: taking care of Togepi when he wasn’t home.

Buneary had confidently accepted the responsibility, thumping its chest in determination.

It had thought, “Sure, I’m small too, but looking after a baby like Togepi? Piece of cake.”

That confidence lasted all of five minutes after Natsume left.

When Togepi’s "energy bar" fully charged, chaos ensued.

While Natsume had been home, Togepi had been napping in its nest, already tired from earlier mischief.

Now, with Natsume gone, Togepi was fully energized.

Buneary had been excited at first, scrambling after Togepi in a panic.

Now, it simply flopped onto the floor in defeat, utterly spent.

“Bun…”

Collapsing in exhaustion, Buneary looked like it had been completely worn out.

It wasn’t annoyed—just utterly defeated.

“Forget it. I’m done.”

“Meow.”

Persian gracefully strolled into the room.

It took one look at the disheveled Buneary and then at the hyperactive Togepi.

Togepi froze instantly.

Clutching its blanket tightly, it scurried over to Persian’s feet and nuzzled its paw in an ingratiating manner.

Though still young, Togepi had already grasped the “food chain” of the farm.

The top boss was, without question, Natsume.

Just this morning, Togepi had witnessed Natsume effortlessly pin a rogue Fearow to the ground with one hand, rendering its struggles futile. After a thorough scolding, the Fearow had fled the farm in disgrace.

Second in command was the farm’s Persian—a senior member who had been with Natsume since childhood. Persian’s status was unshakable.

According to Corvisquire, such loyalty and prestige were called "achieving greatness by following a leader."

Or was it "being a big fish in a small pond?"

Togepi wasn’t entirely sure.

The third highest-ranking member on the farm was Butterfree, who diligently assisted Natsume with crafting Pokéblocks. It was always buzzing about during production sessions.

As for the rest, Togepi felt they were all more or less the same—each had their own tasks to handle.

---

Elsewhere, near the farm’s fields, Natsume and Sandshrew stood side by side, smiling at the sight of their first fully ripened crops.

The synchronized movements and expressions of the two were almost comical.

“You’ve worked hard, Sandshrew,” Natsume said. “The fields are in fantastic shape thanks to you.”

“Sand sand!”

Raising its tiny arms, Sandshrew struck a “strong” pose, clearly pleased.

It had discovered a newfound love for farming. Since coming to the farm, most of its time had been spent tending to the crops. Watching the plants it cared for grow day by day brought it immense joy.

New hobby unlocked: farming.

The next moment, a radiant white glow enveloped Sandshrew’s body.

“Sand?!”

Startled, Sandshrew quickly realized what was happening—it was evolving.

It cast a nervous glance at Natsume, then prepared to embrace its transformation.

Why the nervousness?

Well, Sandshrew couldn’t deny that its first thought upon seeing the white light was, “Am I being born again? But wait, wasn’t I already born?”

Sometimes, even Pokémon have their silly moments.

When the light subsided, Sandslash stood proudly in its place.

Compared to its round and harmless pre-evolution, Sandslash now exuded a sharper, more formidable aura. Its longer claws, piercing eyes, and spiked back gave it a fierce appearance.

“Slaaash!”

Striking a pose, Sandslash looked quite satisfied with its new form.

“Congratulations, Sandslash,” Natsume said with a sense of pride.

No matter how many times he witnessed it, the evolution of a Pokémon never failed to amaze him.

Sandslash raised its claw, looking expectantly at Natsume.

After a brief pause, Natsume understood and raised his hand to meet it.

Clap!

A solid high-five sealed the moment.

“Alright, let’s start the harvest!” Natsume said.

“Slaaash!”

Man and Pokémon dove into the field, working with seamless coordination. Despite being human, Natsume’s speed rivaled that of the evolved Pokémon.

Unintentionally, the two turned the task into a friendly competition, racing to see who could harvest more.

Meanwhile, unknown to Natsume, his farm had begun to attract some attention from the outside world.

Chapter Text

“Wooom~”

Inside the cave, Ogerpon hummed a little tune of its own creation while tidying up its treasure trove.

Well, calling it a treasure trove might be a stretch—it was more like a cluttered storage room.

“Hmph, hmph.”

Ogerpon picked up a stuffed toy, took a deep breath, and buried its face into the plush fabric. After a few affectionate nuzzles, it gingerly placed the toy onto a spot it had meticulously cleaned and lined with a sheet of plastic to keep it pristine.

Just as it was engrossed in tidying its "home," a noise from outside the cave caught Ogerpon’s attention, making it instantly alert.

Ogerpon had always prided itself on its sharp sense of vigilance.

How had it managed to live peacefully for so long? Was it because of its strength, capable of taking down a Rattata in a single swipe? Its speed, which left most Pokémon trailing in its dust? Or perhaps its cute and unassuming appearance?

No.

Its survival depended entirely on its keen awareness of danger!

Crouching low in a tactical crawl, Ogerpon stealthily moved to the cave entrance and cautiously peeked outside to survey the situation.

Normally, if another Pokémon discovered its hiding spot, Ogerpon’s instinct would be to grab its belongings and bolt.

But this time…

Glancing back at the treasures in the cave, a hint of hesitation flickered in Ogerpon’s eyes.

Several of the items were gifts from Natsume. Taking everything would be inconvenient, and if it ran too far, it might lose track of Natsume entirely.

Wouldn’t that worry him?

“Hmmm!”

After a moment of hesitation, Ogerpon’s eyes sharpened with determination.

Fine! If it came to a fight, so be it!

Though it usually preferred peace, Ogerpon was no pushover.

It would show them its strength today!

But as it turned out, Ogerpon was overthinking things.

Outside the cave, a group of Pokémon didn’t seem to have any intention of staying.

“Choo…”

About ten weary-looking Bounsweet sat on the ground, their faces etched with sadness. In front of them, a Steenee was speaking passionately, trying its best to rally the group. But under the circumstances, the speech seemed to have little effect.

Seeing its companions so dispirited, even the Steenee, who was holding strong, couldn’t help but show traces of sorrow on its face.

They hadn’t rested properly in a long time, nor had they had a decent meal. Their original territory had been taken over by a powerful Pokémon, and the group had been scattered while fleeing for their lives.

To be honest, Steenee felt like it was nearing its limit.

Sniffing, it glanced at its downtrodden companions and inexplicably felt a surge of anger.

No reason, just anger.

It really wanted to kick something.

Turning away, it crossed its arms and sat down, stewing in its own frustration.

“Hmm…”

Ah, so that’s what happened.

Having eavesdropped on the conversation, Ogerpon pieced together the story.

This sort of thing wasn’t uncommon in the wild.

The world was vast, filled with unknown adventures and powerful Pokémon. Occasionally, a strong Pokémon unable to hold its ground in its own territory would come to weaker areas and assert dominance.

It was just the way of nature.

With this in mind, Ogerpon tiptoed back into the depths of the cave and rummaged through its little bag, pulling out a few pieces of Pokéblocks. After some thought, it decided to bring the whole bag, slinging it around its neck before dashing out.

Ogerpon to the rescue!

“Choo!”

The Bounsweet group, initially enveloped in a gloomy atmosphere, was startled by Ogerpon’s sudden appearance.

The Steenee instinctively stepped in front of its companions, ready to protect them.

Bounsweet were notably weak Pokémon, lacking in strength, speed, defense, and stamina. Even Steenee, despite its evolution, wasn’t much better.

This evolutionary line only experienced a true leap in strength after evolving into Tsareena, transforming from a near-equal to Magikarp into a plant version of Pheromosa (well, almost).

Even knowing its limitations, Steenee stood its ground to protect the others.

“Hump hump!”

Sensing the tension, Ogerpon hurriedly explained that it meant no harm. It had overheard their conversation and wanted to help.

Ogerpon then enthusiastically described Natsume’s farm, painting it as a paradise.

In Ogerpon’s depiction, Natsume was the kindest person in the world—he didn’t hate Ogerpon, gave it delicious food, and even provided shelter to wandering Pokémon.

Hearing this, Steenee raised a skeptical question.

“Choo?”

Then why aren’t you living there?

Uh…

Caught off guard, Ogerpon stammered through a series of nonsensical explanations. To divert the topic, it quickly pulled out some Pokéblocks from its bag and offered them to the group.

Yes, Ogerpon had decided—it would help Natsume expand his roster of Pokémon!

It had always felt a little guilty about freeloading at the farm. Helping recruit new Pokémon felt like a step toward repaying Natsume’s kindness.

Watching the Bounsweet and Steenee happily share the Pokéblocks, Ogerpon couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. Hearing them praise Natsume made its heart flutter with joy.

Yet, amid the joy, a thought lingered.

Why wasn’t it living at Natsume’s farm?

Its relationship with Natsume was good… right?

Fidgeting with its paws, Ogerpon felt uncertain. This kind of introspection was a bit too complex for its little brain.

“Choo?”

“Choo!”

Steenee’s call snapped Ogerpon out of its thoughts.

Seeing the eager yet cautious look in Steenee’s eyes, Ogerpon quickly agreed to lead the way.

The journey to Natsume’s farm was a long one, and this was Ogerpon’s first time bringing others along. The experience felt strange but also satisfying.

However, as the farm came into view, a sudden thought hit Ogerpon like a thunderbolt.

What if Natsume didn’t want to take them in?

Panic set in, but it was too late to turn back.

From a distance, the watchdog Mightyena family was already waving in greeting.

With no other choice, Ogerpon pressed forward, silently praying that Natsume wouldn’t be angry—or worse, that he wouldn’t dislike it for acting on its own.

***************************
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P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

“Huh? You’re saying Ogerpon brought a group of Pokémon here to seek refuge?”

By the farmland, Natsume was standing with arms akimbo, admiring the freshly harvested fields of Yache berries alongside Sandslash.

Then, Mightyena’s father came rushing over, urgently reporting a large group of Pokémon gathered near the farm's edge.

"Alright, thanks for the heads-up, Mightyena," Natsume said, casually tossing a few specially made energy blocks for canine Pokémon into the Mightyena’s mouth.

Crunching loudly, the father Mightyena’s eyes gleamed with wisdom. Tasks like running back and forth between the farm's outskirts and Natsume’s house were often left to him.

Why? Because each trip meant receiving these delicious, teeth-grinding energy treats from Natsume.

The Mightyena had made it clear—this was non-negotiable, even for his wife and pups.

His tail wagged furiously behind him, entirely at odds with his aloof and proud facial expression, resembling one of those mischievous dogs known for pointing fingers and causing chaos.

Led by the Mightyena, Natsume and his companions, including the Persian, Shiny Furret, and the Mightyena family, headed toward the edge of the farm.

From a distance, they could already spot a group of Pokémon gathered by the fence, peering curiously into the farm.

Among them, Ogerpon stood out like a sore thumb, its face betraying guilt and unease, practically radiating "I want to run, I want to disappear" energy.

It felt like déjà vu from their first meeting.

“While I expected to eventually bring in more Pokémon, this lineup is... unique,” Natsume muttered, glancing at the odd mix of Pokémon.

Among them were a small group of Bounsweet, a quartet of Skiploom whispering amongst themselves, a Mudkip hiding nervously behind a Slowpoke, and two Sentret gazing in awe at Shiny Furret, seemingly envious of its pink-and-white fur.

“This is... something,” Natsume said, walking closer to the group.

Although slightly overwhelmed by the sudden influx of Pokémon, he quickly crouched beside Ogerpon.

“These Pokémon—are they all here to live on the farm?” he asked gently, signaling his companions to help maintain order in case the tension caused a chain reaction.

Ogerpon hesitated, turning its head away as though trying to avoid Natsume's gaze. After a long pause, it muttered an explanation.

At first, it had only intended to bring the Bounsweet group to the farm.

But as it neared the area, other Pokémon appeared, expressing a desire to join.

They claimed to have long admired the farm and hoped to use this opportunity to move in.

Finishing its story, Ogerpon quickly turned its head away, looking flustered and regretful for not consulting Natsume first.

Feeling a warm touch on its head, Ogerpon looked up to find Natsume smiling.

“Thanks, Ogerpon,” Natsume said, ruffling its head. “The road here wasn’t too dangerous, was it?”

“I’ve been meaning to bring more life to the farm but kept putting it off. You’ve really helped me out.”

Ogerpon froze, staring at Natsume’s gentle smile. Then, in a flurry of emotion, it rammed into Natsume’s leg and buried its face there.

Before Natsume could react, Ogerpon abruptly turned away, puffing its cheeks like an angry puffball.

Although confused, Natsume could tell it was fine now.

As Shiny Furret ran to fetch some Poké Balls, Natsume took the time to talk with the new arrivals.

Just as Ogerpon had said, most were here because life in the wild was tough—food was scarce, and survival wasn’t easy.

They even offered to work on the farm, feeling it would be improper to freeload.

“Alright, everyone, line up for registration!” Natsume announced, rubbing Shiny Furret’s head as it returned with the Poké Balls.

He explained the process of being “caught” and went over a few simple farm rules, like no attacking fellow residents.

After capturing and immediately releasing the Pokémon to officially register them, Natsume began planning where they would fit into the farm’s ecosystem.

The Bounsweet could stay near the house, providing their sweet sap for collection. The Skiploom could help maintain the berry trees.

As for the two Sentret, they would likely become Shiny Furret’s followers, judging by their eager but nervous attempts to approach it.

Then there was...

Natsume’s gaze met the slow, vacant eyes of a Slowpoke.

“Slow?”

Tilting its head, the Slowpoke let out a lazy, sluggish call.

Chapter Text

Slowpoke—a Pokémon known for being brilliantly dense.

It’s famous for its sluggish reactions and its unsuitability for battles. Even when attacked, it takes Slowpoke a good four or five punches to realize it’s being hit, and another two or three punches to think about fighting back.

Though some individuals are a bit smarter, as a species, Slowpoke isn’t ideal for combat, especially in its unevolved state. Their battling style is, well, lackluster. Half the time, they forget what strategy they were supposed to use.

Things improve significantly once they evolve, particularly into Slowking. At that point, the difference is night and day—one is universally seen as dim-witted, and the other sees everyone else as dim-witted.

That said, Slowpoke has its merits. They’re gentle-natured and emotionally stable, even when faced with the most unruly kids. Plus, their tails secrete a sweet substance and can even detach naturally over time, making them a sought-after delicacy.

Still, these qualities describe normal Slowpoke. The one standing before Natsume? Definitely not normal.

At the edge of the farm, Natsume and the Slowpoke locked eyes in silence.

Its dull, dead-fish eyes lacked any worldly desire. Yet, unlike other Slowpoke, it didn’t exude cluelessness. If anything, it seemed more… speechless.

To put it another way, it was the difference between a brainless fool and someone who has simply given up on life.

This Slowpoke’s gaze wasn’t that of an idiot. It was more akin to someone who was utterly fed up.

And standing behind it was a Mudkip.

As one of the most popular Water-type starters, Mudkip’s potential was undeniable. Swampert, its final evolution, boasted a balanced stat distribution, great abilities, and broad move coverage. Water/Ground typing was only weak to Grass, and it could even Mega Evolve.

Mega Swampert was the epitome of brute force among Pokémon.

“Ah, crap,” Natsume muttered, catching himself spiraling into his old trainer mindset. He slapped a hand over his face, a wry smile creeping onto his lips.

Though he had sworn off being a trainer, old habits clearly died hard.

Seeing the Mudkip startled by his sudden gesture and the Slowpoke growing even more exasperated, Natsume chuckled and asked, “Do you guys have any thoughts about joining the farm?”

“Slow?”
“Mud?”

Both Pokémon responded with confusion—one unsure of what to do, the other wondering what it could do.

“Ah, right,” Natsume said, scratching his head. It was a silly question. Neither of them seemed ready for anything yet.

“I’ll take you both to the pond later,” he offered. “The view there is pretty nice.”

The pond was linked to an underground river, attracting a variety of Pokémon that came and went. Permanent residents were rare, though this had changed recently.

Natsume had started tossing crushed PokéBlocks into the water, essentially “chumming” to attract Pokémon. Naturally, the pond’s population began to grow.

Explaining the pond’s setup and safety precautions, Natsume reassured the duo, “Be careful of the currents. They can be tricky.”

After patting the dirt off his pants, Natsume addressed the rest of the group: “Alright, everyone, let’s head to your new homes.

“I’ll be around the farm most of the time, so if you have any issues, come find me. If you can’t find me, one of the others will help.”

Behind him, a gaggle of excited Pokémon followed like students on a field trip. None dared misbehave under the watchful eye of the bossy Persian.

---

Meanwhile, the Mightyena family had resumed their patrols, a duty they’d grown accustomed to.

Though the area was vast, Natsume’s generosity made up for it. Free food, free lodging, and even training sessions for their offspring—it was hard to complain.

But something wasn’t sitting right with the Mightyena mother.

She narrowed her eyes at a particular Bounsweet trailing at the back of the group.

It wasn’t the smell—that was muddled from mingling with others. No, it was something about its movements.

They were… strange.

It felt like mixing hot tea with a splash of cold frog water—something just didn’t belong.

Quietly, she called over her smartest child, a Poochyena with a red scarf around its neck, and whispered a few instructions.

The pup nodded, slipping away unnoticed while the rest of its clueless siblings remained distracted.

The mother sighed, glancing at her oblivious mate.

He had grown duller since joining the farm. While she knew he wasn’t the sharpest to begin with, this was almost too much to bear.

“Forget it,” she muttered. “He’s sleeping outside tonight.”

---

Back with Natsume, the journey to the pond was slow. Slowpoke’s pace dictated the speed of the entire group.

At one point, Natsume considered carrying it, but he quickly dismissed the idea.

Not because it was tiring, but because of those eyes.

Looking into them stirred an inexplicable irritation in him. Something about that deadpan gaze made his blood simmer.

***************************
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Chapter Text

"Yaa~"

By the pond, Slowpoke lazily swiped at the water with its paw, rippling the surface gently. Its dull, fish-like eyes showed a faint hint of contentment.

Nearby, Mudkip crouched at the pond's edge, looking as if it were ready to leap in and playfully splash about. Beneath the crystal-clear water, the faint silhouettes of other Pokémon could be seen moving about.

The fin atop Mudkip’s head twitched, sensing the humidity in the air. This environment suited it perfectly.

"Mud."

Taking a deep breath, Mudkip plunged its face into the water, enjoying the refreshing coolness as its eyes narrowed in delight.

“According to the Pokémon in the pond, this body of water is connected to an underground river,” Natsume explained as he sat cross-legged nearby, feeling the breeze against his face. A small smile appeared.

“In the future, I’ll probably have to expand this pond or even create a larger lake somewhere else. It’s picturesque, but the size is limiting.”

"Yaa~"

Slowpoke responded lazily, its tone as vague as its usual demeanor. It wasn’t so much a genuine reply as an automatic response—like a friend absentmindedly agreeing with your long-winded conversation by muttering, "Mm-hmm, true."

High emotional intelligence: It provides great emotional support.
Low emotional intelligence: It didn’t listen to a word you said.

“Well, I’ll check on the other Pokémon now,” Natsume said, standing up. “If anything comes up, let me know.”

Waving without turning back, Slowpoke dramatically threw itself into the pond, letting its body slowly sink. Inspired, Mudkip eagerly followed suit, mimicking Slowpoke as it sank into the water with a blissful “Mud.”

Closing its eyes, Mudkip reveled in the tranquil moment.

“This is so nice.”

“By the way, I’ll need you to keep an eye on the Bounsweet group,” Natsume said, stroking Persian as it emerged from the shade of a tree.

Unlike Natsume, who seemed naturally adept at bonding with Pokémon, Persian had no particular interest in such activities. It was here solely to protect Natsume from potential harm caused by aggressive Pokémon—not that it doubted Natsume’s ability to handle himself.

Still, as Natsume’s self-proclaimed enforcer, Persian had to maintain appearances.

"Meow," Persian replied flatly.

Ah, more work, it thought.

When new Pokémon joined the farm, it was Persian’s job to establish the rules and hierarchy. While Natsume preferred a gentle approach, Persian believed every group needed structure and someone to play the “bad cop.”

It had learned this from one of the many management books on Natsume’s shelf—books that Natsume himself had never touched. Titles like Microexpression Psychology and Behavioral Management lay gathering dust, read only by Persian during its leisure time.

Persian prided itself on being well-read. Not out of choice, but because Natsume’s fleeting interest in unusual books always fizzled out as soon as they arrived.

“Woof, woof!”

A red-scarfed Poochyena dashed toward Natsume, barking excitedly.

“Oh, it’s you. What’s up?” Natsume crouched to meet the Pokémon.

Among the litter, this particular Poochyena was the cleverest, far outshining its siblings—and even its father, who had recently self-appointed himself as the “Head of Security.”

The Poochyena glanced around warily to ensure no other Pokémon besides Natsume and Persian were nearby. Then it leaned in close to whisper in Natsume’s ear.

“Woof, woof-woof.”

“Oh, really?”

“Woof!”

“Your mom told you, huh?”

“Woof.”

Natsume nodded, easily understanding the Poochyena’s report. The mother Mightyena had noticed something odd about one of the Bounsweet in the group. Its scent seemed normal, but its behavior was subtly off, prompting her to send her smartest pup to inform Natsume.

“Good work.”

Natsume ruffled the Poochyena’s fur affectionately before slipping a few Pokéblocks into its mouth. The pup chewed tentatively, its eyes lighting up with delight at the taste.

So this was why its dad was always volunteering to run errands for Natsume.

Should I tell Mom about this? Poochyena wondered, deep in thought.

---

After considering his next steps, Natsume decided to send Persian home to fetch Butterfree and Corvisquire while he headed toward the Bounsweet group.

“Meow.”

With a graceful leap, Persian shot off like an arrow, its speed rivaling even the farm’s agile Furret.

---

Meanwhile, among the Bounsweet, the suspicious individual quietly nibbled on a berry, its expression emotionless.

When other Bounsweet approached to chat, it responded with cold indifference.

“Choo.”

One particularly popular Bounsweet, surrounded by its peers, finally managed to break away and timidly approached the odd one.

Upon seeing it, the cold Bounsweet’s expression transformed into a rare, happy smile.

“Suo!”

Chapter Text

Outside the Berry Grove, the furious Ogerpon glared intently at the faintly visible group of Bounsweet.

Upon hearing that a strange Pokémon had infiltrated the group he brought, Ogerpon was so enraged that he wanted to grab the culprit and smash it into pieces.

It was his first time trying to do something nice for Natsume, and this happened.

Unforgivable!

If Natsume hadn't held him back, Ogerpon would have barged in by now.

Although it might sound arrogant, Ogerpon was confident that even if the entire group teamed up, they wouldn't stand a chance against him.

Maybe not one Bounsweet with a swing of his club...

But two at a time should be doable.

"Woof!"

At Natsume's feet were Mightyena's mother and Persian, their eyes sharp and alert.

Worried about misidentifying the right Bounsweet or encountering any surprises, Natsume had called in Mightyena's mother for backup.

It’s worth mentioning that when Natsume found Mightyena's family, the father was trembling under the piercing glare of the mother.

In human terms, this would probably be like a married man hiding secret savings for himself, spending it all on snacks without sharing with his wife or kids.

Not exactly evil, but definitely a bit selfish.

"Chuu!"

A curious Steenee, led by Butterfree, emerged from the group, tilting her head as she looked at Natsume.

Why had she been called out of the group so suddenly?

"Here’s the thing, Steenee," Natsume said, crouching down to her level, explaining the situation from the beginning.

The matter wasn’t too complicated. He just didn’t want any misunderstandings to arise, so he thought it was better to explain beforehand, even if it was a hassle.

What Natsume didn’t notice was that behind him, Persian was tilting its head, staring at Natsume's knee with an unreadable expression.

"Chuu?"

After hearing Natsume’s explanation, Steenee fell into deep thought.

After a moment of pondering, she seemed to understand something and began explaining excitedly.

In short, their original habitat had been taken over by a powerful Pokémon, forcing her group to flee and gather as they traveled.

Thus, Steenee wasn’t entirely sure if these Bounsweet were originally from her group.

However, among them, there was indeed one peculiar Bounsweet.

It always sat silently in a corner, observing everything—joy, sadness, conflict—with an air of detachment, as though it were a mere observer.

"I see," Natsume nodded, indicating his understanding.

"Then please lead us to them."

"Chuu!"

Steenee nodded firmly, a trace of indignation flashing in her eyes. At that moment, her thoughts aligned perfectly with Ogerpon’s:

Find that weirdo and expose them!

It didn’t take long for Natsume to locate the odd Bounsweet.

The process was surprisingly straightforward since the target made no effort to hide.

The strange Bounsweet simply sat quietly to the side, keeping its distance from the others. Whenever another Bounsweet approached, it would move further away—except for one particularly popular Bounsweet that could get close.

According to Steenee, that specific Bounsweet was the most well-liked in the group.

Everyone got along with it, and even Steenee had a good impression of it.

Hearing this, Persian shot a quick glance at Natsume.

Another charmer, huh?

"Hello there."

Hearing Natsume’s voice, the aloof Bounsweet lifted its head and glanced at him with its usual indifferent expression, showing no reaction to his presence, as if it had expected him.

It made no move to respond, but Natsume didn’t mind.

He had already anticipated that this Pokémon might not want to communicate.

That’s why he brought Ogerpon and Persian along, just in case things escalated.

These two were undeniably the top fighters on the farm.

While Ogerpon didn’t often seek battles and lacked experience, his sheer power surpassed Persian’s.

Persian was now Level 54, a level higher than before.

Ogerpon?

Level 61—a force worthy of an Elite Trainer.

Don’t ask why a Grass-type mythic is only at the Elite level.

Even baby Lugia wouldn’t necessarily win against a certain electric rodent at birth (crossed out).

Still, with this setup, they weren’t invincible but could certainly hold their ground.

"Graah!"

The furious Ogerpon stepped in front of Natsume, radiating hostility. If you don’t explain yourself, you’re getting a club to the head!

Sensing the animosity, the aloof Bounsweet shrank back slightly, hiding behind the popular Bounsweet.

"Introductions were already made," the aloof Bounsweet said.

"You should already sense I mean no harm."

"So, can you show me your true form?" Natsume asked calmly.

Yes, two of them.

Although Mightyena’s mother had only detected one, Natsume was confident the popular Bounsweet was also suspicious.

Why did his intuition outmatch that of Pokémon?

Let’s just say… that’s Arceus-given confidence.

At Natsume’s request, the two Bounsweet exchanged a glance before smirking mischievously.

In unison, they leaped into the air.

Their cute forms shimmered momentarily before transforming.

When they landed, two small foxes stood before the group—one black, one white.

"Suo!"

The pair of foxes stared at Natsume with contrasting expressions.

The black fox smirked slyly, as if plotting some mischief.

The white fox, on the other hand, looked pitiful, almost on the verge of tears.

"Oh, it’s you two little troublemakers," Natsume said, surprised.

Zorua and Hisuian Zorua.

Although he had suspected something, he was still caught off guard.

"Hehe."

The black Zorua covered its mouth, giggling at Natsume’s reaction, while the Hisuian Zorua retreated shyly behind its counterpart.

"Graah!"

"Chuu!"

Both Ogerpon and Steenee were furious, itching to teach the foxes a lesson.

"So, you slipped away when I tried to capture you, huh?"

Calming his Pokémon down, Natsume turned back to the foxes.

The two Zorua exchanged a glance before the black one stepped forward to explain.

"Suo suo!"

Actually…

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

“Suosuo!”

“You know, all of us have technically been caught. At least, we’ve been inside a Poké Ball.”

From a human perspective, that means we’re captured, right?

With a sly smile plastered on its face, Zorua lazily explained.

Though it seemed to be explaining things, that mischievous grin gave off the impression that it was up to no good, planning some prank.

In contrast, the Hisuian Zorua behind it looked like a pitiful little thing—a stark difference between one full of devious ideas and the other filled with grievances.

This could likely be tied to the origins of the Hisuian Zorua.

Zorua often conjures illusions to bewilder opponents, which led to it being shunned and driven from its habitats elsewhere. Eventually, it migrated to the Hisui region.

But unable to withstand the battles with other Pokémon and the harsh natural environment, it tragically perished.

Its lingering spirit, fueled by intense hatred for humans and Pokémon alike, transformed into the ghostly form it has now.

That’s the backstory of the Hisuian Zorua.

Thinking about it, its perpetually sad expression is understandable.

By the way, Zorua’s type is Dark, while Hisuian Zorua is a unique Normal/Ghost combination—currently exclusive to Hisuian Zorua and its evolution, Hisuian Zoroark.

This exceptional typing grants immunity to Fighting, Ghost, and Normal attacks. It lacks a quadruple weakness, with only Dark-type moves hitting it for double damage.

With well-distributed stats, dual offensive capabilities, excellent coverage, and a versatile movepool, Hisuian Zorua is a standout Pokémon—whether as a team cornerstone or even a Trainer’s ace.

Unfortunately, this is Natsume’s farm.

“So, you’re part of the farm now.”

“Well then, let’s get along, okay?”

After a brief moment of sensing their sincerity, Natsume smiled.

Although it was clear they were withholding some details, he didn’t mind.

As long as there was no malice involved, it was fine.

After all, Natsume’s primary reason for catching them was to prevent wild Trainers from wandering onto his farm, defeating his Pokémon, and taking them away.

Don’t talk to Natsume about Pokémon freedom.

They eat his food, use his facilities, and live on his property. You think you can just call them “free” and take them away?

If you genuinely love a particular Pokémon, come talk to Natsume. Explain your intentions clearly.

Sneaking around and using force to capture Pokémon when he’s not around? That’s unacceptable.

Such incidents are bound to happen.

With the sheer number of Trainers out there, it’s inevitable that some lack decency.

Betting on the goodwill of others to ensure your safety is a foolish gamble—one Natsume isn’t willing to take.

“Suosuo!”

Zorua nodded, indicating it had no problem with this arrangement.

After all, it came here for the food.

And the Hisuian Zorua?

It just happened to meet this pitiful fellow on the way here and decided to bring it along—like taking in a little brother.

“Suosuo.”

With its “big brother” leading the way, Hisuian Zorua naturally had no objections.

Food, shelter, and safety—what more could it want? It was already content.

“Wooma!”

After hearing their explanation, Ogerpon still seemed a bit indignant.

It couldn’t shake the feeling it had been played.

It was clear that for the foreseeable future, Ogerpon wouldn’t have the best impression of these two mischievous foxes.

Steenee, too, was a little upset but eventually sighed in resignation, signaling her acceptance.

“Chu.”

“Even though you tricked me, thank you for teaching me all this time.”

Looking at the shadowy little fox, Steenee spoke earnestly.

At first, Steenee wasn’t particularly strong. The reason she was able to lead her kin all the way here was largely due to Zorua’s guidance.

From teaching moves to combat strategies, Zorua seemed to know it all—an enigma in itself.

Steenee had always sensed something off about Zorua, but back then, she had no choice but to trust it.

“Suo.”

“It’s nothing, no big deal.”

Zorua replied casually, sneaking a glance at Natsume out of the corner of its eye.

It knew this human could fully understand what Pokémon said.

But Natsume showed no reaction, only smiling at Zorua, as if silently asking, “Anything you’d like to share, little buddy?”

Faced with that smile, Zorua felt a twinge of guilt.

But then it thought, I didn’t even lie. Why feel guilty?

With that thought, Zorua’s confidence returned, and it boldly met Natsume’s gaze.

Natsume chuckled, ruffling Zorua’s head. Then he turned to Hisuian Zorua.

“Why don’t you both consider staying at my place?”

“With how things are now, it’s probably not a good idea to keep living with Steenee and her group, right?”

Though the question was directed at Hisuian Zorua, it was clear the decision ultimately rested with Zorua.

The two foxes huddled together, whispering to each other.

Finally, Zorua made the call:

“Alright, we’ll stick with you. From now on, you’re our caretaker!”

“Good, good.”

Natsume ruffled both their heads vigorously.

Hisuian Zorua’s fur was silky smooth, reminiscent of a well-groomed short-haired cat.

Meanwhile, Zorua’s head felt like a soft, velvety balloon, as though it might float away at any moment.

Their reactions to Natsume’s “head rub of doom” differed greatly.

Hisuian Zorua, unaccustomed to the gesture, shook its head and quickly escaped.

Zorua, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy it, even closing its eyes in contentment.

“Alright, let’s head back.”

That day, Natsume welcomed two special new companions.

The two Zorua, with their adorable appearances, were warmly received by everyone.

“Bun!”

Buneary, the self-appointed housekeeper, took it upon herself to explain the household dynamics to the newcomers:

Boss Natsume, second-in-command the Persian, the Pokéblock expert Butterfree, the janitor Minccino, the farming specialist Sandslash, the troublemaker Togepi, and the mysterious Corvisquire upstairs, always muttering cryptic phrases.

Meanwhile, a group of youths arrived in the nearby town of Lianshan.

“Excuse me, is there a farm nearby?”

The lead boy asked the mayor while the latter was out for a stroll.

The mayor paused mid-step, giving the group a suspicious look.

Chapter Text

“We’re not suspicious people; we’re just Trainers.”

“Oh? And what do you want?”

The mayor frowned slightly, pulling his Mr. Mime closer protectively.

Though it wasn’t polite to think this way, the mayor was well aware of Lianshan Town’s circumstances.

High EQ: A quaint town with stable neighborly relations.
Low EQ: A place so devoid of charm that it couldn’t attract visitors even if it tried.

No tourist spots, no rare Pokémon, and no noteworthy training grounds. On an average day, it was rare to see any Trainers passing through, let alone someone specifically asking for Natsume’s farm.

And they claim to be Trainers?

Thankfully, these were peaceful times. Decades ago, the mayor might have straightened his back, roared, “Are you spies?!”

A Note on the World of Pokémon

While the Pokémon world is mostly peaceful, evil organizations still exist. After all, possessing great power can lead some "ordinary people" to develop nefarious ambitions.

However, this isn’t the case in Jadeleaf Region, the most peaceful country in the world.

There are several reasons for this:

1. Relentless Crackdowns:
The authorities are ruthless in dealing with criminal organizations, conducting sweeps every five or ten days. Surprise inspections are routine, and tactical forces are deployed in overwhelming numbers.

2. Cultural Overachievement:
Jadeleaf Region is an intensely competitive society. With excellent educators, open schools, and abundant resources, everyone receives quality training. The large population ensures a constant supply of talent.

3. Ubiquitous Strength:
Trainers in Jadeleaf Region never retire. Even the elderly man sitting by the roadside might have been a provincial champion in his youth.

If someone were to shout, “That person’s worth 500,000!” in the middle of a crowded street, the scene would be absolute chaos.

Back in Lianshan Town, the mayor remained wary of these young strangers.

He didn’t know their motives, but his Mr. Mime wasn’t one to be underestimated.

(Mr. Mime: “But I really do eat berries, though.”)

“It’s like this,” the leader of the group began to explain.

They were students who had recently become Trainers. While browsing the web, they stumbled upon a travel blog that highly recommended Natsume’s farm, claiming it was perfect for beginners.

Since the farm was within their county, they decided to check it out, thinking, “Why not? We’ve got nothing better to do.”

After all, being a Trainer is about fighting or preparing to fight.
Win? Great! Lose? Train harder and come back stronger!

“Ah, I see,” the mayor nodded, though still skeptical.

“I’ll give Natsume a call and see if he’s okay with it.” He pulled out his phone slowly, dialing.

“But let me warn you,” he said, “Natsume isn’t a Trainer. He’s not interested in battles and doesn’t have the kind of strength you’d expect from professional Trainers. If you’re here hoping for intense battles, you’ll be disappointed.”

“Oh, we understand,” the young leader replied patiently, embodying the overly polite demeanor of his generation.

Deep down, he was already prepared for this.

If Natsume were truly strong, why would he be running a farm instead of pursuing a Trainer’s career?

For young people like them, having powerful Pokémon and becoming a Trainer was the dream.

A few minutes later...

“Natsume says I can take you to him,” the mayor announced, putting away his phone.

Though the mayor thought it unnecessary for Natsume to bother with these kids, he wouldn’t interfere with Natsume’s decision.

“The farm owner’s strength should be decent at least,” the young leader mused as they followed the mayor.

He’d brought not only his Pokémon but also one of his father’s for extra security on the road.

“I should hold back during any battles. Wouldn’t want to go too hard and embarrass the farmer. Maybe I’ll give him some berries as a gift.”

Ten minutes later...

“Mr. Natsume, could you please go a little easier on us?”

The young leader’s voice trembled as he watched his father’s Zangoose pinned to the ground, mercilessly pummeled by a shiny Furret.

In just a few short minutes, his confidence had been shattered.

First, all of his Pokémon were swiftly defeated. Then, his father’s Zangoose—which had stepped in to “avenge” them—was casually knocked down by Natsume’s Furret.

Now, the shiny Furret, with a menacing expression, sat atop the Zangoose and rained down punches with rhythmic precision, completely ignoring its cries of pain.

The young leader’s mind flashed back to something the mayor had said earlier:
“Natsume doesn’t have that much strength, you know.”

...What was that again?

He couldn’t quite remember anymore.

***************************
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Chapter Text

"Alright, that's enough. Come back, Furret."

Hearing Natsume's voice, the Shiny Furret, who had been relentlessly hammering the Zangoose pinned beneath it, darted back to Natsume's side in a flash. It waved its small paws furiously, letting out a dissatisfied cry.

"Furret!"
What nonsense! Talking smack before the fight even began? I knocked your teeth in!

The Zangoose, still sprawled on the ground after the beating, had yet to lose its ability to battle. However, no matter how hard it struggled, it couldn’t get up. Its face bore remnants of frost.

Yes, the punches the Shiny Furret had rained down were none other than Ice Punch.

Objectively, Ice Punch wasn’t a great match for Furret, whose Special Attack was a meager 45. Against most opponents, it might as well have been a tickle. Even Zangoose, with a Special Defense of only 60, barely felt it. Add in the Normal-to-Normal type matchup, and the effect was, well, negligible.

This wasn’t even a case of “death by a thousand cuts.” Strictly speaking, it was more like a cow working at a noodle shop for a year and walking away with a few bruises.

But! From the beginning, Shiny Furret's goal wasn’t to defeat Zangoose quickly. It simply wanted to teach this trash-talking opponent a painful lesson.

Let’s begin this delightful torment, shall we?

“Good work.”

Watching the Shiny Furret shadowboxing the air as if venting its fury at the world, Natsume hesitated before offering some encouragement.

"Furret!"
Piece of cake!

Shiny Furret looked incredibly pleased. It silently expressed gratitude to the little Zorua—its mentor—who had taught it Ice Punch.

Despite the Zorua being younger and smaller, Furret didn’t mind. Power was all that mattered!

Ever since it witnessed a trainer challenge the farm one day, the Shiny Furret had made a decision:
I want to become stronger too!

From that day onward, it trained relentlessly at the farm.

Initially, it didn’t know how to train systematically. After all, it used to be a wild Pokémon. So, it secretly sought advice from Natsume’s original trio of Pokémon.

It learned battle techniques and how to utilize its strength from Persian. From Butterfree, it expanded its move pool and learned to diversify its strategies. And from Corvisquire… well, it picked up some trash talk (cough).

Speaking of Corvisquire, wasn’t it still “reflecting” somewhere? What did “reflecting” even mean?

These questions flickered briefly in Furret’s mind before being discarded.

None of that mattered. What mattered was that today, Furret had fought for Natsume!
Battling! Thrilling!

---

“Thank you for the guidance, Farm Owner Natsume.”

While applying potion to the Zangoose, whose face was swollen beyond recognition, the lead youth managed to force a polite smile at Natsume.

His emotions had gone through a rollercoaster over the past few battles. First, his team was effortlessly swept by Sandslash, who had merely wandered over to see the commotion. Then, his Pokémon were toyed with and systematically taken down by Butterfree's dirty tactics. Finally, his father’s Zangoose had been pinned and mercilessly pummeled by this Shiny Furret.

Yet, amidst it all, an odd thought surfaced in the young man’s mind:
This isn’t... entirely unacceptable, is it?

But when he remembered that even his father’s Pokémon had been defeated, his heart sank further.

“What does it mean to say, ‘just a farm owner, not as strong as professional trainers’?” he grumbled internally.

Sure, his dad might be unreliable, lazy, and terrible at hiding his secret stash of money. But he had once been a trainer! His study was filled with trophies from county-level and city-level tournaments.

And yet, this...

The boy sighed, quickly adjusting his mindset.

"By the way, Farm Owner Natsume, with your strength, have you ever considered becoming a trainer?"

The boy looked at Natsume curiously. While it wasn’t polite to question someone’s choices, he couldn’t help but wonder.

“Trainer? I’m not particularly interested,” Natsume replied after a moment’s hesitation.

“But... most people would...”

“Let me put it this way,” Natsume interrupted, gesturing toward his farm. “What do you think most people become trainers for?”

The boy thought for a moment before tentatively answering, “To gain glory?”

Then, as if realizing something, he shook his head and corrected himself:
“No, most people’s real motivation—beyond passion or fame—is to gain benefits.

"Becoming stronger allows them to explore more dangerous areas and acquire rarer resources. Greater strength brings higher status, more resources, and more money.”

Though blunt and a bit harsh, it was the reality. Many pursued the high income that came with being a trainer.

“Exactly,” Natsume said, pointing to his farm. “I already have everything I need. Why bother becoming a trainer?

"I have money, free time, and I’m still strong enough to protect myself. The only thing I don’t do is challenge gyms or compete in tournaments.”

Hearing this explanation, the boy understood but still felt there was something off about it. However, he couldn’t quite articulate what it was.

“Oh, right. Here, take this.”

Natsume reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of Pokéblocks, handing it to the boy.

The transparent ziplock bag contained three or four Pokéblocks—just enough for his Pokémon to enjoy as a treat.

“Ah, thank you,” the boy replied automatically, accepting the bag.

Initially, he had intended to give Natsume some Berries as a gesture of goodwill, but now it seemed he was the one being comforted.

His attention quickly shifted to the Pokéblocks.

“These are high-quality Pokéblocks... and an unfamiliar type, too.”

He opened the bag, and a faint, refreshing aroma of berries wafted out. At his feet, his battered Bibarel perked up immediately.

“Could I... buy some of these Pokéblocks from you?” the boy asked abruptly, noticing how eager his Pokémon were.

Chapter Text

It’s widely known that handcrafted items aren’t necessarily the best, but they are almost always the most expensive. Their price often includes not just the intrinsic value but also the allure of being "handcrafted."

However, this rule doesn’t apply in the Pokémon world.

Be it Pokéblocks or Poké Balls, countless items are crafted by skilled artisans. Take, for instance, the Pokéblocks that the boy wanted to buy just now.

Due to various factors, most Pokéblocks on the market are basic and unremarkable. Custom orders, on the other hand, come with a hefty price tag.

For an average family, this can be quite a financial burden. It's not that they don't want their kids to grow stronger—it’s just that their wallets don’t allow it.

“I don’t mind,” Natsume replied after a brief moment of thought.

He had already considered selling his surplus Pokéblocks and was planning to look for stable sales channels soon. His original idea was to approach gyms as potential distributors.

On that note, the gyms in Jadeleaf Region are divided into four levels: national, provincial, municipal, and county-level.

After all, with a population in the billions, fewer than 20 national-level gyms would hardly suffice. People would be waiting months just to book a single challenge.

“Thank you so much, Natsume!”

“By the way, Natsume, what’s the name of your farm?” the boy asked curiously.

Although the farm was marked on the map, its name wasn’t listed. He had initially thought it was an oversight, but upon arrival, he found that even the physical location lacked any signage or plaques.

“The farm’s name?”

“It’s Sunnyhill Farm. When I inherited it, some of the paperwork wasn’t finalized yet,” Natsume explained. “I submitted everything later, so the map should update in a day or two.”

The farm had a different name before, but Natsume decided to rename it to mark a fresh start. Sunnyhill held no special meaning—it just sounded pleasant to him.

At first, he had toyed with quirky names like Stardew Valley or Pikapika Farm, but practicality won out in the end.

With his curiosity satisfied, the boy returned to discussing the details of buying Pokéblocks with Natsume. Soon, they agreed on a deal: enough Pokéblocks to last the boy’s Pokémon for half a month, priced significantly higher than market rates.

Though it wasn’t exorbitant—certainly not the “10,000 per block” kind of premium—Natsume was still making a tidy profit.

Money, however, had never been Natsume’s primary motivation. Even in terms of personal lifestyle, he lived modestly.

It was only when the boy transferred payment that Natsume finally learned his name. Not that it mattered much.

"I have no interest in remembering the names of defeated opponents," Natsume thought smugly.

Watching the boy leave, surrounded by his classmates, with a bittersweet expression, Natsume scratched...

...his back.

Why did he come here again? To get beaten up and then hand me his money?

Before leaving, the boy did mention he’d promote Natsume’s farm on online forums. He claimed it might attract more visitors.

“Should I set up a proper battle area?” Natsume pondered aloud.

He had designated part of the farm as a recreational zone but hadn’t gotten around to developing it. Who has time for leisure when things are just starting to take off?

“Sand...slash.”

"I think it’s a good idea," Sandslash said, waving its claws in agreement.

For some reason, the Pokémon on the farm had recently become obsessed with growing stronger. From the shiny Furret to the Mightyena family, even Buneary had started secretly practicing moves at night.

The newly arrived black Zorua had also been sharing its expertise, teaching several Pokémon new skills. Furret, for example, had learned Ice Punch.

Had their laid-back life suddenly turned into a hot-blooded training arc?

Not that it affected Sandslash much—it still loved tilling the fields the most.

---

Soon enough, Sunnyhill Farm garnered a small wave of online attention.

Not because of the farm itself but due to the battle footage uploaded by the boy’s companions.

The first half of the video was fairly ordinary. A well-trained Sandslash and a Butterfree with a surprisingly diverse move pool were noteworthy but not shocking. This world has no shortage of remarkable Pokémon—there’s even a five-meter-tall Tyranitar trending online.

What truly captured viewers' attention was the shiny Furret.

Who could resist the charm of a pink-and-white, fluffy, oversized cuddle buddy?

Certainly not the internet.

The rules of online popularity are peculiar. Show off technical skills, and self-proclaimed experts will critique you relentlessly. But post something cute, quirky, or outlandish, and you’re golden.

Unsurprisingly, the shiny Furret gained a modest burst of fame.

Some forum users even commented that they lived near Sunnyhill Farm and would visit soon. Others claimed they were already on their way.

For now, though, none of this concerned Natsume.

“Piii!”

As he approached the house, he heard Togepi’s spirited cries.

The tiny Pokémon, its eggshell stained with dirt, darted out from behind the house, its stubby legs moving surprisingly fast.

“Bun!”

Behind it was Buneary, towel in hand, looking utterly flustered. Taking care of Togepi was clearly proving to be a challenging task.

Upon spotting Natsume, Buneary immediately tossed the towel aside and leaped into his arms, lamenting Togepi’s mischief.

Togepi, on the other hand, feigned ignorance with an innocent expression.

“I see,” Natsume said, glancing at the darkening sky. After a moment’s thought, he smiled and said:

“Let’s all take a bath together tonight.”

***************************
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P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

In the bathroom on the first floor, warm water flowed steadily as steam began to fill the space. Outside the door, a group of curious yet hesitant Pokémon gathered, none of them brave enough to be the first to go in.

The lineup included: the shiny Furret, Sandslash, two Zorua, Togepi, Persian, Butterfree, Mightyena’s older brother, and even Corvisquire, who had been coaxed down from the second floor.

Initially, Corvisquire had been content to stay upstairs, reflecting on life. But upon hearing there was a challenger earlier in the day—one who even trashed-talked—it was utterly flabbergasted.
What? Someone dared to provoke us?
Why didn’t anyone call me? This is my specialty!

Corvisquire, eager to prove itself, was frustrated to have missed its moment. A regret as bitter as missing out on KFC’s Thursday deals.

“Mi?”

Minccino appeared, a towel draped over its shoulder and carrying its bathing supplies, looking puzzled at the gathering Pokémon outside the bathroom.

“What are you all doing here?”

“Slash.” Sandslash raised its paw. “We’re waiting for the first brave soul to step forward.”

Sandslash had no intention of being first, especially since it was a Ground-type Pokémon. The thought of being bathed in front of everyone? Absolutely not.

The rest of the Pokémon nodded in agreement, sharing the same sense of embarrassment. After all, out in the wild, who cared about bathing, let alone queuing for it?

Originally, the rest of Mightyena’s family and Pangoro’s crew were supposed to join, but Natsume decided it was too much for one evening. Besides, those groups adamantly declared that wild Pokémon didn’t concern themselves with such trivial matters.

As for Mightyena’s older brother? He was simply there for the spectacle but got roped in by Natsume anyway.

Persian didn’t mind. Having been with Natsume since it was young, it was used to this. Baths? It had even shared a tub with Natsume before. The typical feline fear of water simply didn’t apply to it. In fact, Persian was already contemplating a nice soak later.

“Mi.”

After hearing Sandslash’s explanation, Minccino’s expression turned disdainful.

A bunch of dirty Pokémon, refusing to bathe. Disgusting.

Without hesitation, it flicked its tail, turned, and walked into the bathroom. The unique warmth of the bath filled the air, prompting Minccino to take a deep breath.

Ah, this is the life.

“First one’s you, huh, Minccino?” Natsume chuckled.

“Mi.”

“Alright then, you go ahead. I’ll deal with the others later.”

Minccino climbed into a specially prepared basin, relaxing as the warm water soaked its fur. The soothing sensation of the water running down its body made it close its eyes in contentment.

“Here.” Buneary, with its ears wrapped in a special head towel, handed Natsume a bottle of Pokémon shampoo. It had volunteered as Natsume’s assistant for the night.

“Thanks, Buneary.”

Natsume poured a bit of shampoo into his hand and gently worked it into Minccino’s fur, creating soft white suds. Using massage techniques he had picked up, he earned a satisfied hum from Minccino. It seemed his efforts to learn were paying off.

After rinsing off the bubbles, Natsume was about to apply conditioner and fur softener when Minccino insisted it wanted to soak a little longer. With a smile, Natsume set the basin aside and called toward the door:
“Next!”

From outside came a commotion before the door creaked open, and Persian sauntered in with a casual, self-assured gait.

“Meow.”
“They were all hesitant, so I decided to go first,” it explained as it walked to the shower, its movements practiced and precise.

No one here had bathed as many times as Persian. If anything, it could lord its cleanliness over all the others. A true connoisseur.

The bath routine proceeded smoothly. No Pokémon dared to resist. Even the water-averse Sandslash obediently sat on a stool, enduring the process.

Togepi and the Zorua, however, proved to be mischievous. They splashed water at Natsume with their tiny paws, one of the Zorua even using Water Gun to drench him.

“You’re quite the troublemaker, aren’t you?” Natsume said, wiping his face and smiling. He retaliated by ruffling Zorua’s head fur playfully.

“Ehehehe!” Zorua giggled, wagging its fluffy tail energetically.

Finally, when all the Pokémon were cleaned up, it was Buneary’s turn.

“Bun.”
“Alright, your turn, Buneary,” Natsume said, rinsing the soap from his hands.

Buneary eagerly removed its head towel and perched on a small stool, patiently awaiting its bath. As Natsume’s hands worked through its fur, Buneary began humming a tune—one it had heard from Natsume’s phone.

Natsume seemed to like the song, so Buneary had memorized the melody. Though it couldn’t sing, it could hum the notes perfectly, showcasing its musical talent.

“All done.”

After rinsing the suds, applying conditioner and fur softener, and drying with a towel, Buneary looked at its reflection in the mirror. Its well-groomed appearance filled it with happiness.

It was then that a soft white light enveloped Buneary’s body, overtaking the glow of the bathroom lights. The transformation was impossible to ignore.

The petite figure grew taller, its silhouette reshaping into something new.

When the light subsided, a different Pokémon stood before them.

“Congratulations, Lopunny,” Natsume said with a smile.

The newly evolved Lopunny, now more elegant and humanoid, rubbed against Natsume affectionately.

“Lopunny~”

Please continue to take care of me, Natsume.

Chapter Text

Gentle moonlight blanketed the earth, soft and serene. The small town gradually quieted, and most of the Pokémon on the farm had drifted into peaceful dreams.

Well, except for a few outliers.

For instance, the night owl Corvisquire, the vigilant Mightyena patrolling the grounds, Persian taking a post-dinner stroll, and a Lopunny clutching her pillow, unsure of what to do.

“Lop~pu...”

In Natsume's bedroom, Lopunny stood in front of the now-too-small beanbag chair, looking utterly lost.

Just last night, she could bury most of herself in the beanbag, snuggling cozily with her favorite pillow. She would wake up in the morning, lazily gazing at Natsume’s face.

But within 24 hours, things had changed.

The average height for a Lopunny was about 1.2 meters, but the Lopunny in Natsume’s care was thriving beyond the norm, standing nearly 1.4 meters tall.

“Lop~pu...”

Her earlier excitement over evolution was replaced by a sense of regret. Maybe evolving wasn’t the best idea. Now, even her sleeping arrangements had to change.

She decided to move to the room next door.

“No need for that,” Natsume’s voice interrupted as he entered the room, dragging in an oversized, pumpkin-shaped beanbag chair.

The chair was so large that Natsume had to tilt it vertically to squeeze it through the doorframe.

“This beanbag arrived earlier this morning,” he explained. “I left it in the downstairs storeroom and almost forgot about it.”

Patting the giant pumpkin beanbag, Natsume grinned at Lopunny.

“This should be just the right size for you.”

The beanbag had been intended for another part of the house, but repurposing it for Lopunny seemed fitting. The smaller chair would be moved elsewhere later.

“Lop~pu!”

Overwhelmed with gratitude, Lopunny turned and hugged Natsume tightly, rubbing her face against his chest.

“Alright, alright, time for bed,” Natsume said, chuckling.

“lop~pu,” she nodded, settling onto the new beanbag with her beloved pillow from her Buneary days. She even draped a small blanket over her belly.

After all, no creature—Pokémon or otherwise—could sleep soundly with their belly exposed.

---

On Natsume’s bed, the shiny Furret was already nestled in, with part of its pink body poking out from under the covers. Its glowing eyes reflected in the dim light.

“Pa-pa-pa,” Furret patted the bed with its tiny paws, urging Natsume to join.

Get on the bed already.

Hugging the fluffy, pink Furret, Natsume soon fell into a deep sleep.

This life was exactly what he’d longed for—a quiet existence free from rigid schedules and deadlines.

Here, he could pursue what he loved, surrounded by creatures who weren’t human but could understand him. There were no exhausting social dynamics, no soul-crushing work stress, and no absurd pressures from idiots demanding the impossible. No bottled-up grievances, no fear of emotional breakdowns.

What more could he ask for?

As Natsume dreamed, the corners of his mouth curled into a soft smile.

Sometimes, pleasant dreams attracted special visitors.

A feather glowing with moonlit radiance drifted down from the sky, landing gently on the windowsill. Its luminous glow brushed against Natsume’s cheek.

The smile on his face deepened ever so slightly.

Throughout the farm, the plants and Pokémon seemed to bask in their own serene dreams, adding to the harmonious atmosphere.

---

The next morning, the farm’s youngest troublemaker, Togepi, woke from its plush, two-square-meter bed.

Rubbing its sleepy eyes, it took a moment to shake off the grogginess before hopping up with gusto.

Dragging its little blanket, Togepi hummed a tune it had learned from Lopunny—well, Lopunny was Lopunny now, no longer the petite Buneary.

Creeping to the door of Natsume’s room, Togepi peeked inside to see him still fast asleep. Without disturbing him, Togepi turned and headed downstairs.

Under the morning sun, the little Pokémon stretched its stubby arms and began its morning workout.

“Suwo~”

A slightly unfamiliar voice came from nearby. Togepi turned to see two black-and-white foxes—Zorua and Hisuian Zorua.

These two had joined the farm just a few days ago.

So, if one’s called Hisuian Zorua because of its color, does that mean Furret should be called Hisuian Furret too?

As a baby Pokémon, Togepi couldn’t quite wrap its head around the concept of regional forms. It was like asking a three-year-old to understand time zones—not impossible, but unlikely.

“Toki!”

Togepi waved cheerfully at the Zorua pair before heading to the small lake for its daily training.

The pond, which had been recently expanded into a small lake, glistened under the sunlight. Natsume had hired a construction team to enlarge it to accommodate the growing number of Pokémon on the farm.

“Toki~ Tokii!”

Togepi greeted the Slowpoke basking by the shore and the Mudkip practicing its own morning drills.

Natsume seemed to have high hopes for these two. Mudkip, in particular, often visited the main house, likely destined to become one of Natsume’s battle-ready Pokémon.

At least, that’s what Furret had said. Togepi didn’t entirely understand but enjoyed parroting the sentiment.

Standing by the sparkling water, Togepi took a deep breath and wiggled its fingers. A faint light glimmered at its fingertips.

“Tokii!”

Metronome!

This move stimulated the brain to randomly execute any skill. Theoretically, it could even summon moves like Precipice Blades, Spacial Rend, or Roar of Time—though their power wouldn’t match the originals.

As Togepi trained, a barrage of seemingly mismatched moves erupted: Whirlpool, Earthquake, Flamethrower, and Hyper Beam.

“Tokki,” it huffed, satisfied after its exertion.

Good job, me!

But the little Pokémon’s impromptu fireworks had an unintended effect.

Deep beneath the lake, where it connected to an underground river, the bombardment caused a subtle shift in the water’s flow.

A Pokémon egg, dislodged by the current, floated to the surface and gently came to rest on the lakebed.

***************************
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P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

After finishing its morning exercise, Togepi walked home with a cheerful bounce in its step, occasionally passing other Pokémon also training in the early hours.

Since a few days ago, the farm had started receiving visits from challengers. While it wasn’t an official gym, it had become a popular spot for trainers to check out. The scenic views combined with the opportunity for battles made it a worthwhile destination.

To accommodate the influx, Natsume had designated a plot of land at the farm's edge as a battle arena. Beyond just battles, he occasionally sold Pokéblocks, and to his surprise, the farm was already turning a profit. It had only been about a month since he took over the farm, and yet, things were running smoothly.

Natsume hadn’t bothered with detailed accounting; as long as there was enough money to live comfortably, that was all that mattered. If funds ever ran short, he could always make and sell more Pokéblocks.

A lifestyle reminiscent of Yoshihiro Togashi’s mantra: “When I run out of money, I’ll just draw manga again.” (Except Togashi swaps drawing for playing Mahjong...)

---

“Togi!”

Returning to the house, Togepi found Natsume already awake. From the workshop came the fragrant aroma of berries. The scent alone was enough to make anyone feel relaxed and content.

It was worth noting that the farm's environment had changed subtly due to Natsume frequently using his Verdant Power to cultivate ingredients like Berries. The residual energy not only boosted the vitality of every plant but also made the air exceptionally fresh.

Visitors staying at the farm might even find themselves gradually recovering from minor ailments. Similarly, the Pokémon living on the farm were steadily growing stronger.

Just yesterday, Steenee had secretly told Togepi it was close to evolving.

“Lucky for you,” Togepi thought enviously, tugging the little blanket tucked into the crack of its eggshell. It waddled determinedly toward the Pokéblock workshop.

Whenever Natsume made Pokéblocks, he would cut small pieces for everyone to sample. This always drew Pokémon to gather around and watch eagerly.

With some effort, Togepi pushed the door open and obediently climbed onto a small stool nearby, watching Natsume intently. At the workstation, Natsume was busy making Pokéblocks, assisted by Lopunny.

In recent days, Lopunny had taken over the helper role from Butterfree, who had decided to focus on improving its skills. Apparently, it had even sought tutoring from Zorua.

Yes, Zorua—the one every Pokémon on the farm knew was unusual.

But since Natsume hadn’t raised any concerns, the others were content to train with Zorua and learn its many tricks.

“Lopunny!”

“Really? I’ll check it out later.”

“Lopunny, lop!”

“That’s great! We’ll have our own power source soon!”

As Natsume chatted casually with Lopunny, she informed him about new arrivals at the farm. Last night, a flock of Pidgey had settled near the berry grove, and the previously empty warehouse now seemed to host some Electric-type Pokémon.

Natsume wasn’t surprised.

Given the unusually high vitality of the farm, it was inevitable that wild Pokémon would be drawn to it. Without Mightyena’s patrols or Persian’s oversight, they might have already had troublemakers barging in.

In fact, that had already happened a few times.

Persian’s sentiment was clear: “I’m not targeting anyone in particular; I’m just saying all of you are garbage.”

“Togepi, want a taste?”

Cutting a small piece from the batch, Natsume cooled it with a quick blow before handing it to Togepi.

Sampling aside, it was mostly an excuse for him to spoil the Pokémon. Any pet owner would agree that feeding their companions is a deeply satisfying experience—provided said pet isn’t a picky eater.

“Togi!”

Taking the piece, Togepi mimicked Natsume, blowing on it briefly before popping it into its mouth. A burst of rich sweetness spread across its tongue, and it couldn’t help but squint its eyes in delight. Its little feet swung happily, mirroring its mood.

“Togi!”

“No more for now. Breakfast is coming up.”

“Togi…”

“Not even a small piece. Lopunny, keep an eye on Togepi and make sure it doesn’t sneak any.”

Natsume set the freshly made Pokéblocks aside to cool before lifting Togepi and placing it on the living room sofa.

Following him out, Lopunny nodded in understanding, her kind smile shifting to a blank, intimidating stare as she turned to face Togepi.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Togepi froze under her gaze, then obediently sat on the sofa, focusing on the TV.

As a Buneary, Lopunny had often been the target of Togepi’s mischief. But after evolving, her strength had skyrocketed, and she could always catch Togepi in the act.

Over time, she became Togepi’s natural nemesis.

Satisfied with Togepi’s behavior, Lopunny returned to assist Natsume. The Pokéblocks were an integral part of his strategy when catching Pokémon.

The method might be cliché, but it was undeniably effective—akin to a college freshman gifting the dormmates new gadgets and saying, “If you don’t like it, feel free to sell it for cash. Oh, and I’ll take care of meals for the next four years.”

Who could resist such an offer?

“Lopunny!”

Handing Natsume his bag of Pokéblocks and Poké Balls, Lopunny stood at the door like a doting housewife seeing him off.

“Thanks for holding down the fort, Lopunny.”

“Lopunny.”

With a wave, Natsume headed toward the grove, accompanied by Corvisquire and Shiny Furret.

The farm had two berry groves: one for Pecha Berries and the other for Oran Berries. The latter was tended to by the Pancham family and Ursaring.

As Natsume approached the Oran grove, a dazzling golden light caught his eye.

“Wait a second… is that a Shiny Pidgeotto?!”

Chapter Text

Pidgeotto, the earliest of the regional birds, has a final evolution in Pidgeot with decent base stats and impressive speed.

Although its overall strength is just "passable," the nostalgic attachment and its Mega Evolution potential, coupled with its ability to serve as a flying mount, have made it a frequent feature in various fan works.

When Mega Evolved, Pidgeot’s base stat total reaches 579. To put that in perspective: pseudo-legendaries like Dragonite have a base stat total of 600. Mega Pidgeot also boasts a Speed stat of 121, outpacing most Pokémon.

Of course, base stats are theoretical. After all, Dragonite, revered for its "extreme speed," has a Speed stat of only 80—and yet, it's said to circle the globe in 16 hours!

Returning to the main point, when Natsume first caught sight of the golden, gleaming Pidgeotto, his brain froze for a moment.

To be honest, his impression of shiny Pokémon usually involved a greenish hue—like shiny Machamp, for instance. But then he remembered: the games are one thing, reality another.

In reality, shiny Pokémon often symbolize strength. The reason is simple: due to their distinct coloring, shiny Pokémon are often ostracized by their groups, forcing them to survive independently in the wild. This experience cultivates strong willpower and combat abilities.

In many cases, strong willpower can compensate for natural talent. To some trainers, a determined Pokémon is far more valuable than one that simply boasts good stats. Of course, there are exceptions.

Shiny Pokémon also tend to have unique traits. For example, the shiny Furret at Natsume’s farm is much faster than regular Furret—and cuter (crossed out).

Because of their rarity, shiny Pokémon are highly sought after by trainers. Even if they’re not particularly strong, their uniqueness is enough to win over most trainers.

While Natsume sized up the Pidgeotto, the Pidgeotto was also assessing Natsume.

A plain-looking human. No brightly colored hair, no peculiar eyes. He didn’t smirk crookedly, nor did he have an unusually large head. Just an ordinary person, albeit slightly handsome.

Still, the Pidgeotto was wary.

This human... feels familiar.

It’s well-known that certain Pokémon species harbor mutual animosities—for example, Zangoose and Seviper, or Pidgeot and Fearow.

A few days ago, this shiny Pidgeotto heard from other Pokémon that a Fearow had been utterly defeated by a human. Delighted by Fearow's misfortune, Pidgeotto had rushed over to mock it.

Even though it couldn’t necessarily beat that Fearow itself—and would probably lose to the same human—it didn’t stop Pidgeotto from taunting Fearow.

Of course, that escapade ended with a horde of Fearow chasing it down, but it was worth it.

But now?

Karma?

The shiny Pidgeotto glanced back at its clueless flock, then at the blue Corvisquire and shiny Furret beside Natsume.

It had a sinking feeling.

“Hello, Pidgeotto,” Natsume greeted, walking closer. “I’m Natsume, the owner of this farm.”

The shiny Pidgeotto instinctively saluted in the French style.

“Pidgeot!”

Hello!

Natsume blinked, surprised by the sudden formality.

This Pidgeotto didn’t seem very bright. Or rather, its brain might not be entirely functional.

Could this be the "shiny" part of this Pidgeotto? Its brain?

Suppressing his inner doubts, Natsume continued, “You must be the leader of your group, right?”

“Pidgeot.”

Receiving confirmation, Natsume added, “Our farm welcomes Pokémon to join, but there are rules you need to follow.”

The rules of the farm hadn’t changed much since Natsume took over. Besides minor adjustments, one new rule stood out:

"No placing your rear end on Natsume’s face in the middle of the night."

Don’t ask why this rule exists. Every peculiar rule has a peculiar story behind it.

Perched on a branch, the shiny Pidgeotto mulled over its options.

Joining seemed like a good idea—this place was great, and the conditions offered were appealing.

But joining outright felt undignified. Maybe... a fight first?

Pidgeotto’s gaze slowly shifted back to Natsume.

The human was out of the question.

Next, its eyes landed on the blue Corvisquire. Something about that bird was irritating.

Then, the pink-and-white Furret.

Clicking its tongue, Pidgeotto couldn’t shake the feeling that none of these Pokémon were pushovers.

If it fought and lost, it would lose face entirely.

If it joined without a fight, it would still lose face.

“What’s your decision?” Natsume asked.

“Pidgeot!”

I’ll join!

After weighing the pros and cons, the shiny Pidgeotto decisively agreed.

“Welcome aboard, Pidgeotto!” Natsume smiled.

“Pidgeot!”

Looking forward to working with you, Boss Natsume!

Yes, this Pidgeotto seemed very aware of its place. Or perhaps it was simply well-aware of Natsume’s strength.

Over time, Natsume had gained some notoriety among the local wild Pokémon, known for his ability to single-handedly subdue them.

This led to a personal realization: if something can be solved with his own hands, why trouble the Pokémon on the farm?

Besides, there was a certain thrill to taking down Pokémon with a single punch.

What is a true Hisui superhuman? (leans back smugly)

“For now, you and your flock can stay here,” Natsume said. “Help keep an eye on the orchard, and let me know if any outsiders show up. I’ll bring pokéblocks over regularly.”

After explaining the rules and handing over some energy cubes, Natsume ignored the Pidgeotto’s stunned reaction ("What kind of garbage have I been eating before this?") and headed toward the warehouse at the farm’s edge with Corvisquire and Furret.

“I need to consider getting a mount Pokémon,” Natsume mused as he walked. With some money saved up, it might be time to invest in some functional Pokémon.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

In a long-unused warehouse, a group of Pokémon surrounded an obviously broken-down, old diesel generator.

They looked as if they were overworked office employees debating overtime or students stressed about an impending exam.

“Zzz—”

A large yellow spider with piercing blue eyes stared at the outdated generator.

It had seen others use similar machines to generate electricity, but as for how it worked... the logic was beyond it.

The Galvantula had hoped that “things would work out somehow,” but this contraption defied comprehension.

It wanted to dig a hole and hide itself.

But feeling the expectant gazes of its newborn Joltik children, it could only feign an air of intense focus, pretending to be in deep study.

Above the generator sat an Electric Flying Squirrel.

No, not the iconic Pikachu, but an Emolga.

Despite its undeniable cuteness, Emolga’s screen time in stories was surprisingly low.

“Yimo.”

So hungry…

The little squirrel idly scratched its paw as its stomach rumbled.

Living in the wild meant most Electric-type Pokémon couldn’t always find a power source, so they relied on berries to fill their bellies.

But even berries had been scarce lately.

Its gaze drifted to the Galvantula.

Ever since meeting that spider, its luck had seemingly taken a nosedive.

Behind the Galvantula, four tiny Joltik watched their father “work” with rapt attention.

To a child, parents are often omnipotent, and for Pokémon, it was no different.

Meanwhile, in a corner of the warehouse, two sluggish Charjabug huddled together, looking utterly dejected.

For Charjabug, life without electricity was catastrophic.

If things continued this way, they feared they might starve to death.

Near the clutter, a Pokémon rummaged through a pile of junk, its face obscured. Judging from its rounded posterior, it resembled a Corgi.

Emolga dangled its legs thoughtfully, considering its options.

Sticking with this group didn’t seem promising.

They weren’t even friends—just Pokémon who had coincidentally crossed paths during migration.

“Maybe I should find a capable Trainer to take me in,” it mused. “Rely on my adorable looks and live a cushy life.”

As it daydreamed, the warehouse doors creaked open.

Bright sunlight spilled in, chasing away the gloom.

The sudden burst of light dazzled the Pokémon, who had grown accustomed to darkness.

“Wow, there are quite a few new friends here,” a voice called out.

At the back of the group, Emolga squinted and adjusted to the light.

After a moment, a face entered its view—a face it found… acceptable.

As a Pokémon with standards, Emolga believed that if it were to be caught, it should at least be by someone pleasing to the eye.

After all, choosing a Trainer was like picking a partner—they’d be together for years.

If its Trainer were unsightly, it would be miserable.

This face, however, was tolerable and worth considering.

The warehouse erupted into chaos.

The rummaging Pokémon revealed itself—a Yamper.

Its tan, white, and brown fur gleamed, and its upright ears resembled a rabbit’s.

Its tail had a lightning-bolt shape, with a heart-shaped base right above its rear.

“A Yamper!”

Natsume’s expression lit up.

To him, Yamper’s evolution, Boltund, was the quintessential herding Pokémon.

He planned to eventually raise Pokémon capable of producing resources, like Combee, Mareep, and Miltank.

For herding duties, Boltund and Arcanine were ideal choices.

Encountering a Yamper here was a delightful surprise.

The other Pokémon weren’t bad either.

Natsume’s gaze turned to the Galvantula and its Joltik children.

Electric and Bug-types that could spin silk and generate electricity—perfect for solving the farm’s power issues.

Currently, the farm had external power lines, but internal electricity production would be much more convenient.

Then there were the two Charjabug.

As their name suggested, they functioned like living power banks.

Not only could they store vast amounts of energy, but their evolved form, Vikavolt, was an excellent turret Pokémon.

Though their HP, physical attack, defense, and speed were unimpressive, their 145 base Special Attack could devastate enemies.

Finally, Natsume’s gaze landed on a red-hued Charjabug hiding in a corner.

Unlike the usual green color, this one was shiny.

Counting the shiny Pidgeotto from before, this marked the third shiny Pokémon he’d encountered on the farm.

His attention returned to Emolga, lingering at the back.

Sensing his gaze, Emolga frowned and instinctively pulled the others forward as a shield (or so it imagined).

Instead, it retreated further into the corner.

Why did this human’s gaze feel so… intense?

It was almost like the obsessive villains in TV dramas who fixated on little girls.

Yes, Emolga had watched TV before—albeit through a stranger’s window.

“Hello, everyone! My name’s Natsume, and I’m the owner of this farm.”

“No need to be nervous.”

He paused for a second, nearly blurting out something inappropriate, before continuing.

Raising his hand, Natsume channeled a gentle flow of Viridian energy, subtly easing the tension in the air.

It wasn’t enough to “brainwash” the Pokémon into adoring him but helped reduce their wariness.

Even Yamper, who had been prepared to bite him, started wagging its tail instead.

Chapter Text

After a brief self-introduction, the Pokémon's perception of Natsume improved significantly.

Especially the Yamper, which wagged its tail incessantly at Natsume’s feet, barking “Woof, woof!”

Roughly translated, it seemed to be saying:
“Father! I’m your long-lost son, Father!”

For wild Pokémon, the allure of guaranteed food, shelter, and leisure without the burden of battling was irresistible.

Few wild Pokémon could refuse such an offer, particularly an affectionate species like Yamper.

If the situation had allowed, Yamper would probably have taken up the role of Natsume’s spokesperson, earnestly persuading the others to join.

The Galvantula glanced back at its offspring, then at Natsume, before resolutely nodding.

If you’re willing to take us in…
Never mind. Let’s skip the formalities.

“Boss Natsume, our family will follow you from now on!”

The two Charjabug made the same decision.

After all, wild Electric-type Pokémon didn’t have many choices.

Most would eventually partner with trainers—only with a trainer could they feed on electricity openly.

The alternative? Sneaking power and risking a beating, followed by capture or abandonment.

Better to find a reliable trainer sooner rather than endure hardship.

The only holdout was Emolga.

Not that it wasn’t tempted—it found Natsume’s farm quite appealing.

However, this was a matter of lifelong commitment, and such decisions required caution.

In its city days, Emolga had learned a lot by eavesdropping on beauty courses and lifestyle tips.

It scrutinized Natsume closely, weighing its options.

Hmm, he looks pretty handsome. His outfit’s a bit plain, lacking style, but that’s not a big deal. That can be improved later.

For Emolga, things like bad fashion sense weren’t deal-breakers—they could be corrected over time.

What mattered more were the unchangeable “hardware” factors, like height.

A bad haircut could be fixed, and poor taste in clothes could be learned.

But short stature? That was permanent.

Judging by what it saw, Natsume passed the test. His face was definitely within Emolga’s “acceptable range.”

Shifting its gaze from Natsume to his Pokémon, Emolga evaluated his care.

The bird flying nearby looked energetic and well-maintained.

The pink, long-bodied Pokémon beside him had sleek, glossy fur—a clear sign of good grooming.

And the fox cradled in his arms was no exception.

All things considered, following Natsume seemed like an excellent choice.

“Yimo!”

Pushing past the other Pokémon, Emolga stepped forward, raising its tiny hand.

From now on, I’ll be in your care, Natsume.

“You too, Emolga,” Natsume said, crouching to gently tap its paw with his finger in a mock high-five.

As Emolga had been assessing him, Natsume had been observing Emolga in return.

Though he often appeared easygoing and patient with Pokémon who wished to join his farm, this wasn’t always the case.

His kindness extended only to pure-hearted Pokémon without malicious intentions.

For those with disruptive tendencies or arrogant attitudes, Natsume had no qualms about rejecting them outright.

Case in point: the Spearow he once had to pin down and discipline.

(Spearow: Why me again?!)

If Emolga had shown an excessively rebellious demeanor, Natsume might have politely asked it to leave.

Fortunately, things ended on a positive note.

“All done,” Natsume said, completing the process.

After formally capturing each Pokémon, he released them again, his thoughts wandering to the growing population on his farm.

I’ll need to find proper accommodations for all these Pokémon…

Clearly, the farm needed an expansion.

With this in mind, Natsume took out his phone and messaged a familiar contact.

[Why Doesn’t Ultraman Seven Have Ears?]: Are you there? Are you there?

[Machamp Construction and Renovation Team]: I’m here, boss! What do you need?

[Machamp Construction and Renovation Team]: (Serious cat face emoji)

[Why Doesn’t Ultraman Seven Have Ears?]: The farm needs expanding. Let’s build a bigger house and renovate those old warehouses.

[Machamp Construction and Renovation Team]: Got it! On my way!

[Machamp Construction and Renovation Team]: (Saluting cat emoji)

[Why Doesn’t Ultraman Seven Have Ears?]: (Handshake) (Handshake)

Meanwhile, in town, a muscular girl lounging under an air conditioner sprang off her bed.

Kicking open the back door, she shouted, “Work’s here, everyone! Get moving!”

“Finish this job, and we’ll upgrade the gym equipment! Maybe buy new tools too!”

In the backyard, Machamp and Foreman Pokémon Conkeldurr turned their heads toward her in unison.

The girl felt like dozens of spotlights were glaring at her.

“Let’s go, let’s go!”

Watching her enthusiastic Pokémon, she nodded in satisfaction.

Exactly—work hard so I can buy new bags…

Err, I mean, better gym equipment for you all.

Looking at her phone’s chat log, she smiled, her heart brimming with joy.

Life was tough these past months, but thanks to that young farm owner, everything’s turning around.

“Still, Natsume sure has a mature taste in emojis,” she murmured, scrolling through his messages.

The handshake and flower emojis stood out among his replies, occasionally accompanied by an “OK” gesture.

Such refined tastes!

“Alright, time to head out!”

Standing at her shop’s entrance, the girl prepared to leave, only to hear a crisp voice behind her.

“Excuse me, could you tell me how to get to Sunnyhill Farm?”

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

“Yimo.”

Inside its new home, Emolga curiously inspected the space where it would be living from now on.

Unlike the more people-friendly Emolga, Galvantula’s family preferred the outdoors. After all, the nature of spiders meant they weren’t particularly fond of staying too close to humans.

Downstairs, the two Joltik were feasting voraciously on electricity. Having gone so long without such indulgence, they were now practically glued to the power outlets, impossible to pull away.

It was safe to predict that Natsume’s electricity bill was about to skyrocket.

But, it was all worth it!

Maybe it was the blessing of the Alpaca Pokémon, but in just over a month, Natsume had managed to catch three shiny Pokémon.

And all of them had stunning color schemes.

The pink-and-white Furret, which always reminded Natsume of a certain interstellar diva.

The golden Pidgeotto, whose brassy plumage gave Natsume ideas about training it to deliver sarcastic quips from streetlamps.

And the red Charjabug.

To most, this might not seem impressive. But its final evolution into the shiny Vikavolt—sleek silver with fluorescent green patterns—looked like a machine straight out of a futuristic war movie.

In short, the evolution was destined to be incredibly cool. Far cooler than the green Machamp models Natsume used to see in his classmate’s fashion magazines.

Even among shinies, there were levels to this.

“Yimo!”

Emolga raised its paw in a polite greeting as the surrounding Pokémon gathered around to observe the newcomer.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Emolga, the new arrival. Please take care of me.”

The little flying squirrel Pokémon struck a well-mannered pose, as if it were a diligent student on its first day of school.

Emolga understood the importance of making a good first impression. Its priority was to establish friendly relationships and understand the dynamics of its new home.

By figuring out the hierarchy and pecking order, it could avoid missteps and even gain support for any future endeavors.

If worst came to worst, it could always play the cute card—acting pitiful, flashing its big eyes, and calling everyone "big brother" while tugging at their heartstrings.

Yes, Emolga was very confident in its charm.

It silently praised its own cleverness.

But...

Stare—

Minccino was glaring at Emolga, a cleaning cloth still in its paws.

The intense gaze made Emolga break into a nervous sweat.

What’s going on?

Did I do something wrong?

Or is this just not how greetings work here?

“Mi!”

After scrutinizing Emolga for a while, Minccino nodded with satisfaction.

“Seems like a clean kid. That’s good. Very good.”

Giving Emolga a reassuring pat on the shoulder, Minccino resumed cleaning. Lately, the household’s chaos had increased Minccino’s workload exponentially.

In retaliation, the younger Pokémon led by Togepi had all found themselves pinned to the floor by Minccino at least once.

It wasn’t about strength—just sheer authoritative pressure.

“San!”

Sandslash returned to grab an pokéblock for lunch. Giving Emolga a casual pat, it offered a few encouraging words.

“Work hard, little one. I’m heading out.”

Carrying its meal, Sandslash left to tend to its crops, clearly more invested in its fields than in the new arrival.

“Tokii.”

Togepi mimicked Sandslash’s actions, patting Emolga on the shoulder as well.

Keep it up; I believe in you.

“Toki-toki.”

Work hard, that’s advice from your senior.

Though it had only hatched recently, Togepi insisted on playing the role of a mature mentor, much like a high schooler pondering how to save the world.

“Furr.”

Following Togepi, the shiny Furret gave Emolga a quick pat but said nothing.

"Hmph, I admit you’re cute. But cute Pokémon only slow me down!"

Determined, Furret bolted out of the house.

It had decided—today, it would run fifteen laps around the farm.

If it couldn’t finish, it would do fifty sprints instead.

This was a training method it had learned from watching anime.

Squeak!

"My youth will never fade!"

“Caw!”

Descending from the second floor, Corvisquire fixed Emolga with a sharp gaze.

"Hmph. A mere nobody. Shall I—"

Before it could finish its arrogant monologue, Persian kicked it aside, cutting the drama short.

“You’re using the wrong idiom, idiot.”

Acknowledging Emolga with a slight nod, Persian dragged Corvisquire into a corner, ready to discipline the TV-obsessed troublemaker.

“...Yimo?”

Standing frozen in place, Emolga felt its brain short-circuiting.

Why does everyone here seem so weird?

The only seemingly normal one had been the Butterfree it met earlier.

Turning to the Hisuian Zorua that had been quietly observing from the side, Emolga looked for some explanation—or maybe just some comfort.

But the moment Zorua noticed Emolga’s gaze, it darted into the adjacent room through the wall.

Now, only Zorua's Unovan counterpart remained, leisurely swishing its tail.

As for Lopunny?

It had gone with Natsume to move some supplies.

Though, truth be told, Zorua doubted Natsume needed any help from a Pokémon.

In Zorua’s experience, there wasn’t a human stronger than Natsume.

Even martial artists wouldn’t stand a chance.

Sure, "using force to overcome technique" might sound crude, but it worked.

And with Natsume’s ability to tank even Hyper Beam hits to the face, finesse wasn’t exactly a priority.

Most problems could be solved by charging straight through them.

“Hehe.”

Seeing Emolga’s bewildered expression, Zorua let out a mischievous laugh.

Hearing the chuckle, Emolga snapped out of its daze and turned to Zorua, its cheeks puffed in annoyance.

“Yimo! Yimo!”

For some reason, Emolga felt it shared certain traits with this black-furred fox.

They locked eyes—it was the look of two Pokémon who knew how to vie for attention.

Faced with the agitated Emolga, Zorua tilted its head thoughtfully.

Stretching lazily, Zorua leapt into the air.

As its body twisted mid-flight, it transformed into... an identical Emolga.

“Yimo!”

Shock!

The sudden appearance of “another Emolga” startled the original.

Circling the doppelgänger, Emolga inspected it closely.

After a thorough examination, it reached a conclusion—this copy was identical in every way.

“Yimo...”

Pinching the fake Emolga’s cheek, the real one was utterly flabbergasted.

Meanwhile, Natsume, in another part of the house, was having his own share of shocking experiences.

Chapter Text

Sometimes, people tend to overestimate their tolerance for surprises.

Natsume had always considered himself someone hard to faze. After all, as a transmigrator who had encountered a woolly llama deity firsthand, he thought there wasn’t much left to shock him in the world of Pokémon.

Even if one day he woke up to find Groudon flying in the sky...

Okay, fine, that would still be pretty shocking.

Let’s rephrase.

If one day he woke up and found a Gardevoir lying next to him in bed, Natsume believed he wouldn’t be too surprised. He’d just sigh and reflect on how his ever-evolving XP preferences—refined through years of updates—had finally come into play.

Sure, his tastes were probably a bit old-fashioned compared to trendsetters, but his “good ballpark” did extend to humanoid, aesthetically pleasing non-human creatures.

That said, Natsume firmly believed he wasn’t a furry. Sure, fluffy things were cute, and he did have a thing for humanoid forms, but he wasn’t a furry. No debate about it.

Natsume simply appreciated beauty in all its forms.

Ahem, moving on.

What Actually Surprised Natsume

“Hello, Natsume-san.”

Standing before Natsume was a teenage girl with twin buns tied atop her head and a sun visor perched jauntily. Her youthful energy practically radiated off her.

If it were just another random trainer stopping by his farm, it wouldn’t have been anything unusual—there had been plenty of visitors coming for photo ops and battles lately.

What really surprised Natsume, however, was…

“My name is Mei. I’m a trainer who just started her journey this year.”

Natsume’s brain momentarily short-circuited.

Wait, what? Where am I?

Is this Ash’s world?

I thought I transmigrated into a modern Pokémon setting!

And these names… they aren’t from the Pokémon Adventures manga, are they?

Although momentarily startled, Natsume quickly composed himself. After all, zoning out during someone else’s introduction would be incredibly rude.

“Nice to meet you, Mei.”

Looking at the girl’s familiar features and the smug-looking Snivy by her feet, Natsume was certain this was indeed that Mei from the Pokémon world.

Yep, Pokémon’s Mei—not Mei-nee, I don’t want to die! Mei from elsewhere.

“I’m here today to challenge you!”

Bowing slightly, Mei’s voice carried a serious tone. Though polite, the burning determination in her eyes made her resolve crystal clear.

To Battle

Bringing his thoughts back under control, Natsume led Mei to the battle arena he had set up on his farm.

Standing on the battlefield, Mei’s expression turned deadly serious. She raised a hand dramatically and called out, “Alright, my first choice is you—go, Snivy!”

The Snivy that had been swaggering by her feet raised its head confidently and sauntered onto the field. The pride in its gaze made it clear this Pokémon was used to winning its battles.

If a Pokémon constantly lost, no matter how strong it was, traces of nervousness and hesitation would inevitably show in its demeanor during battles. This Snivy, however, radiated self-assuredness—a testament to its frequent victories.

And yet, this confidence wasn’t something deliberately cultivated.

Both Mei and her Snivy carried a fiery, unstoppable aura. For such a petite and adorable girl, Mei exuded an unexpectedly intense, hot-blooded energy.

“Alright, in that case…”

Just as Natsume was pondering which Pokémon to choose, a Corvisquire suddenly dashed out from behind him.

Its sharp gaze carried a glint of wisdom, as if to say, Leave this battle to me.

“Well, I’ll leave it to you then, Corvisquire.”

Seeing the eagerness in its eyes, Natsume couldn’t bring himself to turn it down. Among all his companions, Corvisquire had the strongest craving for battles.

Partly, this was its natural fighting spirit—few bird Pokémon were truly mild-mannered.

But mostly…

It was because Corvisquire loved showing off.

The Audience

The farm’s Pokémon had gathered around the battlefield to watch the match.

Ever since the battle arena had opened, trainers had frequently come by to challenge Natsume. Whether they won or lost didn’t matter much—it was all about gaining experience. Watching battles had even become a daily pastime for the Pokémon living on the farm.

A special shoutout to the Zigzagoon squad, habitual audience members who always attempted to rummage through challengers’ bags when they weren’t looking. They’d already been scolded multiple times by Ursaring for this, but bad habits die hard.

Like calculus.

“Caw! Caw!”

Circling in the air, Corvisquire basked in the attention from the audience, feeling exhilarated.

Ah, this is what battles are about.

Without an audience, battles lose their meaning.

Corvisquire wasn’t interested in fighting over resources or territory. It fought purely for the sake of showing off.

Because why else? Style, of course.

Natsume was well aware of Corvisquire’s little motives. In fact, he’d been considering taking Corvisquire and a few other Pokémon to nearby small-scale competitions—perhaps ones hosted by shopping districts. After all, several Pokémon on the farm had started training themselves, and Natsume couldn’t just ignore their efforts.

“Caw!”

The winds of destiny are especially wild today.

On the ground, Corvisquire mimicked Snivy’s haughty stance, tilting its head upward to glance at others disdainfully.

This bird definitely had the potential to join the Uchiha clan—its mastery of condescending stares was almost perfect.

Snivy, arms crossed, snorted in response but said nothing.

Idiot.

Its expression said it all.

“Caw!”

Corvisquire remained unbothered, continuing its trash talk. Most of it was dramatic phrases it had picked up online—lines so cringe-inducing even Natsume struggled to translate them into something intelligible.

But as Natsume listened, an unsettling realization dawned on him.

Wait a second…

Why does this sound so familiar?

Holy crap, isn’t this from the diary I wrote in middle school?!

Where the heck did this bird find that?!

Completely oblivious to the increasingly murderous aura emanating from behind it, Corvisquire grew even more animated with its theatrics.

Someone was about to get into serious trouble.

Standing silently beside Natsume, Lopunny shot Corvisquire a pitying glance.

Poor thing. Your doom approaches.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

Sometimes, battles reveal a Pokémon’s true potential.

The instant the match began, the chattering Corvisquire fell silent. It spread its wings and swiftly ascended, dodging Snivy’s initial Bullet Seed attack. Seeds struck the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust and dirt.

“Tsk.”

Snivy clicked its tongue. It had assumed this opponent was all talk, but Corvisquire’s quick reflexes were surprising.

More importantly...

Snivy’s gem-like red eyes locked onto Corvisquire. As much as it hated to admit it, this bird was a serious threat.

Its own repertoire of moves was limited, and it lacked effective anti-air tactics. Worse still, it had no idea whether this opponent possessed long-range attacks. If it did, things could become dire.

Thinking this over, Snivy launched another wave of attacks, alternating between Vine Whip and Bullet Seed. But Corvisquire evaded them effortlessly.

“Snivy, don’t rush,” Mei called out, her tone calming and analytical. “We’ll focus on a defensive counterattack strategy. Corvisquire’s special defense isn’t high—if our attacks land, we’ll have the upper hand.”

Mei’s words helped Snivy regain its composure.

A true trainer’s role in battle isn’t to yell meaningless phrases like “Dodge it!” or “Hang in there!” Pokémon aren’t robots. If they’re in danger, they’ll naturally dodge. If there’s an opening, they’ll naturally strike.

Instead, Mei’s mind raced, analyzing the situation.

“From what I’ve read online, this Corvisquire knows a lot of moves—Protect, Roost, and aerial moves like Drill Peck. A prolonged battle isn’t in our favor, but Snivy’s current tactics are all about endurance…”

She furrowed her elegant brows, mentally noting the need to teach Snivy more moves after this battle.

Still, it couldn’t be helped. With Snivy’s Contrary ability, its potential as a “future ace” was unquestionable. Once it evolved into Serperior and learned Leaf Storm, its combat power would skyrocket. But until then, it was merely “decent.”

“Caw!”

High above, Corvisquire flapped its wings, sending several transparent blades slashing toward Snivy. It was using Air Slash, a move it had only just learned yesterday. Though its mastery wasn’t high, it got the job done.

Many times, proficiency in a move only needs to be “good enough,” as demonstrated now.

Corvisquire rained down Air Slash attacks, forcing Snivy into a frenzied retreat to dodge. Occasionally, it would dive at high speed, delivering a close-range Drill Peck before retreating to safety.

“Ugh!”

Snivy narrowly avoided a Drill Peck, rising from the ground covered in dirt. Its emerald body was now stained with mud, and its red eyes burned with fury.

Its own attacks had been utterly ineffective. Even its Magical Leaf, which should have homed in, was mostly blocked by Corvisquire’s Protect. The few hits that landed barely fazed the bird, who still looked as energetic as ever, hurling taunts with its usual fervor:

“Such pitiful efforts amount to nothing!”

“Kneel and gaze up at me in awe!”

“Realize your weakness and despair!”

If Butterfree’s typical combo was something like “Stun Spore → Toxic → Psybeam → Air Slash,” Corvisquire’s strategy could be summed up as:
“Air Slash → Trash Talk → High-Speed Dive → Trash Talk → Drill Peck → Trash Talk x3 → Air Slash → Close-Range Trash Talk.”

If there ever came a rule banning mid-battle dialogue, Corvisquire’s combat effectiveness would be halved.

Eventually, Snivy collapsed in defeat. Its attacks, though accurate, lacked impact—a classic case of “scratching the surface.”

This was understandable. While Snivy’s special attack stat was decent, there’s a thing called level suppression.

At just over level 20, Snivy had only recently learned Leech Seed, an impressive milestone for a novice trainer’s Pokémon. But Corvisquire was already level 35 and nearing evolution. The gap was undeniable.

Defeat was inevitable, though Snivy wasn’t sure whether it lost due to Corvisquire’s strength or sheer frustration.

If it could, Snivy would’ve gladly yanked out Corvisquire’s beak and shoved it somewhere unpleasant.

Just you wait, feathered freak. One day, I’ll tear that smug look off your face and plant grass on your skull!

Cradled in Mei’s arms, Snivy glared daggers at Corvisquire.

“We’ll stop the battles here for now,” Mei said, applying a potion to Snivy’s injuries. “My other two partners would likely fare no better than Snivy.”

She offered an apologetic smile to Natsume. “I’ll return for a rematch once we’ve grown stronger.”

Some trainers advocate for constant combat, arguing that losing builds character. But sending your Pokémon into a clearly unwinnable battle just to “learn their limits” is pointless. Mei had no interest in subjecting her partners to unnecessary beatings.

“Sorry for the trouble, Natsume,” Mei said, her demeanor shifting back to that of a bright and cheerful girl.

Accepting the small, resealable bag Natsume handed her, she peered curiously at the glistening Pokéblocks inside.

She’d heard about these online—Natsume was supposedly a master at crafting Pokéblocks, surpassing even recognized experts. But anyone with common sense knows not to fully trust online information. At best, believe 30–40% of it. The rest is likely exaggerated.

Still, she couldn’t deny her curiosity.

“It’s no trouble at all,” Natsume replied, waving dismissively. He wasn’t particularly invested in battles. If challengers came, he’d fight. If not, he’d sunbathe.

Most of the time, he let his Pokémon handle battles for him while he managed the farm.

“By the way, Mr. Natsume,” Mei asked as they walked, “what made you decide to take over this farm?”

Chapter Text

“Why did you choose to inherit a farm?”

This was a question Natsume had been asked countless times recently.

The answer was always the same:
Because he felt he might have some talent for it.
Because it was something left behind by his late uncle.
And most importantly, because there was a farm to inherit.

If, back then, he had been left with a major corporation instead, Natsume would have inherited that too. After all, such companies typically have well-established management systems—he’d just need to avoid any catastrophic decisions and he’d live comfortably.

Of course, this was just wishful thinking. There was no corporation for him to inherit.

“Something like that,” Natsume replied casually. “Besides, I don’t think I’m smart enough to be a great trainer.”

As he teased the aloof, tsundere Snivy, Natsume spoke in a relaxed tone.

In this world, being a top-tier trainer requires more than just passion. It demands intelligence.
Type matchups, coverage strategies, the opponent’s potential movesets, and their lineup order all had to be calculated.
One’s own team needed constant adjustment based on the enemy’s composition.

For each battle, there was an overwhelming amount to consider.
Those who charged forward with nothing but raw determination were often outmaneuvered by veteran trainers as soon as they stepped out of school.

This world might lack many things, but it certainly wasn’t short of people who found amusement in "camping" at beginner-level areas just to crush newcomers.

Natsume had once aspired to be a scholar-level trainer, but reality said otherwise.

Crossing dimensions might change your appearance or habits—turning a 1.8-meter-tall man into a 1.5-meter albino with red eyes—but intelligence? That remained stubbornly fixed.

The idea of someone going from a scatterbrained university student to a calm, calculating genius plotting against brilliant minds was nothing but fantasy.

Besides, Natsume had always lived by the principle that brains were meant to rust.

Realizing his limitations, he decisively switched career paths.

“Got it.” Mei nodded thoughtfully, then sighed nostalgically.
“Back in school, we had to memorize so much. The battle class teacher even made us watch battle videos and write analysis reports for homework. It was exhausting, especially after late-night study sessions.”

“Exactly, right?”

In no time, the two bonded over shared frustrations about their school days.

For students—or recent graduates—complaining about school is the perfect icebreaker.
You think your school was bad? Wait till you hear about mine!

This kind of conversation naturally pulls out all the absurd stories from one’s school life, bringing both sides closer together.

So long as no one insults each other’s alma mater, of course.

After a round of shared grievances, their relationship had noticeably warmed.

“But Mr. Natsume, you’re really amazing,” Mei said with genuine admiration. “In just a couple of months, you turned an abandoned farm into this.”

She glanced at a group of Zigzagoon scampering across the fields and couldn’t help but marvel.

While she lacked any farming experience—being the textbook example of a high schooler with zero practical life skills—starting a farm from scratch sounded exhausting.

“It’s nothing, really. The townsfolk were very supportive,” Natsume replied modestly.

A lie, of course.

The truth was that after arriving at the farm, Natsume had transformed from a slightly introverted high school boy into a full-blown shut-in.

If unnecessary, he wouldn’t step out of the farm. Even now, most people in town barely knew who he was.

Even the mayor, busy with his own responsibilities, didn’t have time for idle chats. Unlike the leisurely, cane-toting village elders in anime, real-world mayors were far busier.

“Still, it’s impressive,” Mei insisted.

“And you’re doing great too,” Natsume said. “For a rookie trainer, you’re off to a fantastic start.”

Their conversation naturally veered into mutual compliments.

Looking at Mei, once a "protagonist" of sorts, Natsume felt surprisingly calm.

He didn’t feel excited, let alone overwhelmed with adoration.

Instead, he saw her as an unfamiliar acquaintance—someone interesting but not idolized.

Sure, he felt some fondness toward her, but nothing so intense that he’d throw himself at her.
After all, Natsume was a "reserved man" (or so he claimed).

“By the way, Mr. Natsume, can I buy some Pokéblocks from you?” Mei asked suddenly.

Her primary reason for visiting, besides the battle challenge, was to purchase some of Natsume’s renowned Pokéblocks.

The forums were abuzz with praise for his creations, claiming they were even better than what some top-tier professionals could make.

“Of course! What type are you looking for?” Natsume asked, his business instincts kicking in.

“I have a Snivy, Dewott, and Tepig in my team. Do you have any recommendations?” Mei replied thoughtfully.

As she spoke, a Zorua quietly crept up on the two of them.

“Zor?”

Seeing Natsume and Mei walking side by side, the Zorua skidded to a halt, then dived elegantly into a nearby bush before being noticed.

Peeking out from its hiding spot, the Zorua studied the pair mischievously. Its expression hinted at a cheeky plan forming in its mind.

Pink energy enveloped its small body, and in the blink of an eye, the Zorua vanished into the foliage.

“Hm?”

“What is it, Mr. Natsume?” Mei asked curiously.

“Nothing,” Natsume replied, glancing back at the bush where the Zorua had been hiding. Something about it felt off, but he decided to let it go.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

With a soft "whoosh," Zorua materialized in one of the second-floor rooms. Feeling the softness under its paws, it instinctively kneaded the surface, much like a cat making biscuits.

Leaping gracefully from the bed, Zorua paused briefly before darting into the adjacent room. There, it whispered something to Corvisquire, who was engrossed in watching a movie.

"Suo."
"Caw?"
"Suosuo!"
"Cawcaw."

No one knew exactly what Zorua shared with Corvisquire, but when it emerged from the room, it was carrying a smartphone in its mouth.

Since the farm began turning a profit, Natsume had purchased several phones and left them around the house, anticipating that some Pokémon might take an interest in the internet.

With modern networks and user-friendly devices, more and more Pokémon were becoming internet addicts. A few even became famous online, capitalizing on their tech-savvy antics.

A few minutes later, Zorua, now darting about the house, finally stopped. Before it lay a pile of miscellaneous items—pokéblocks, flower bouquets, ribbon-wrapped gift boxes, and more. Tilting its head, Zorua pondered for a moment, then sneakily glanced around.

Seeing no other Pokémon in the living room, its small body began glowing with a faint blue energy. The scattered items were drawn toward the prepared satchel, as though magnetized.

Don’t question how a tiny bag could hold so much.
Pokémon tech, kid.

Satisfied, Zorua slung the satchel over its shoulder. Floating slightly off the ground, it clutched the smartphone with its front paws, tapping and swiping with remarkable dexterity.

Just then, the door creaked open, and Persian, freshly awake, sauntered into the room. The living room was empty, but its nose twitched as it caught a familiar scent.

Its tail swayed lazily, but Persian didn’t dwell on it. Everyone on the farm knew that Zorua’s so-called "perfectly hidden" antics were far from subtle.

The last Pokémon who had been this confident about its stealth? An Ogerpon caught sneaking into the game room in full view of everyone.

Speaking of Ogerpon, it hadn’t shown up in a couple of days. If it didn’t appear tonight, Persian decided it might be worth reminding Natsume to check on it.

---

Elsewhere, Natsume was giving Mei a tour of the farm.

It had all started when Snivy got flipped onto its head by a passing Zigzagoon. Unwilling to let it slide, Snivy instinctively chased after it. Mei, who had been preparing to leave, decided to stay and help sort things out.

The situation ended with Snivy sulking in Mei’s arms while Ursaring pinned Zigzagoon to the ground.

Judging by Zigzagoon’s playful, tongue-lolling grin, it clearly didn’t take the scolding seriously. In the early days, being reprimanded by its mother would leave it nervous and upset. But now? Zigzagoon had lost count of how many times it had been pinned and scolded.

To it, dodging these situations had become a game—just a matter of perfecting its "Zigzagoon-style evasive maneuvers."

Natsume, feeling somewhat responsible, offered to show Mei around the farm as an apology. Mei, considering her plans to train in the area for a while, agreed.

As a new trainer, Mei wasn’t in any rush to compete in regional tournaments. She knew that aiming for the Junior or Senior divisions in her first year was overly ambitious.

Though she had undeniable potential as a trainer, growth and experience couldn’t be rushed—unless fate had a miracle in store.

Jadeleaf Region was vast, and every year, a handful of lucky trainers managed to befriend exceptionally strong Pokémon early in their journeys. Such occurrences weren’t unheard of, but Mei wasn’t counting on it. For now, her focus was on training and getting stronger.

“Oddish~”

A line of Oddish marched past Natsume and Mei in neat formation. These Pokémon were also residents of the farm, though not as close to Natsume as his more loyal companions like Furret.

While they acknowledged Natsume’s authority as the farm’s owner and followed the rules, they preferred their own carefree lifestyle.

This dynamic wasn’t uncommon. Even in Steenee’s domain, a few Bounsweet showed little interest in interacting with Natsume.

It wasn’t out of dislike or ingratitude—just a lack of interest in bonding with humans. To them, their relationship with Natsume was akin to the connection between villagers and a sacred guardian spirit in some fantasy tales.

The villagers offer tributes, the spirit occasionally shows up to accept them and bestows blessings in return.

“Good afternoon, Oddish,” Natsume greeted, crouching down to gently pat the heads of the Pokémon gathering around him.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a bag of small treats and began handing them out one by one.

Recently, Natsume had started experimenting with crafting Pokémon Poké Puffs. While pokéblock were great, switching things up occasionally was a nice change of pace.

Even the best noodles, no matter how varied, could make one crave rice now and then.

So far, the results were promising, and the effort had even led to the discovery of some tasty Pokémon snacks.

“Maybe I have a hidden talent for this?” Natsume mused, silently offering his thanks to Hisui's deities for their guidance. After all, those blessings had been genuinely helpful.

“Oddish!”

The Oddish lined up, patiently waiting for their treats. Mei, who had crouched beside Natsume, instinctively placed her hands on her knees, watching the interaction.

Glancing at Natsume and the snacks in his hand, she remarked thoughtfully, “You really seem to love Pokémon, Mr. Natsume.”

“Just call me Natsume,” he replied, brushing crumbs off his hands as he stood.

“I think most people, even if they don’t love them, don’t dislike Pokémon either,” he added with a shrug. “I’m just... normal, I guess.”

In a world filled with Pokémon, were there people who truly disliked them? Certainly, just as some people disliked cats or dogs.

“But you’ve done a great job caring for the Pokémon on your farm,” Mei pointed out.

“Maybe,” Natsume said nonchalantly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

He wasn’t one to judge others’ preferences. As long as they didn’t cross any boundaries, even someone obsessed with pink Walmart bags would get his blessing.

“Alright then, let me show you the berry grove,” he offered with a smile. “That’s where our farm’s ‘security team’ resides.”

Chapter Text

For once, Natsume wasn’t busy with farm work all day.

He spent the entire afternoon chatting and strolling around the farm with Mei.

Earlier, he had thought about doing something else, but whenever he wasn’t busy with work, he didn’t know what else to do.

Training? Not really.

Maybe it was because he had already decided to give up on becoming a Trainer, so he didn’t want to engage in activities typical of one. Instead, he preferred lying under the shade of a tree, idly holding his shiny Furret.

To be fair, it was quite relaxing (not that he’d openly admit it).

Natsume had considered picking up some of his old hobbies but always felt unmotivated.

Living alone in the mountains for so long, most hobbies had faded away, leaving only the skills essential for survival.

Natsume figured he was a product of this process. Spending so much time alone, he sometimes worried he might lose his ability to interact with other humans altogether (laughs).

Ah, saying it like this feels a bit depressing.

That wouldn’t do! A transmigrator should be brimming with energy and drive!

Even when feeling down, you should shout confidently, “It’s not me who’s wrong, it’s this world!”

Rubbing his face to shake off the negative thoughts, Natsume handed the Bounsweet in his arms to Mei.

This Bounsweet was particularly fond of people. Every time Natsume visited, it would rub affectionately against him.

It was hard to tell who was cuddling whom.

“Ah, hello there, Bounsweet!”

With a gentle touch, Mei carefully took the Bounsweet into her arms, her face lighting up with joy at the adorable creature.

Cute appearance, affectionate personality, and a faint sweet scent—what girl wouldn’t adore such a darling Pokémon?

At least Mei was completely smitten.

“Chuu!”

Nestled in Mei’s embrace, the Bounsweet shifted into a comfortable position, using the leaf on its head to nuzzle her arm.

Ah, a sweet human girl.

Time to snuggle!

Girls should stick together, even if they’re from different species!

It seemed the Bounsweet really liked Mei. For the rest of the walk, it clung to her, unwilling to leave. Even when placed on the ground, it would trail behind her like an elementary schooler on a field trip.

Mei took a step, and it took three.

Its tiny legs made that inevitable.

“Chuu~”

The hopping Bounsweet looked like an inflated balloon, ready to float away at any moment.

Natsume glanced at the Bounsweet, a thought flickering through his mind, but he chose not to say anything just yet.

For now, he would observe.

Besides…

He subtly turned his head to look at a nearby fruit tree.

The leaves on its branches rustled slightly, as if something had just left.

But scanning the area revealed no suspicious Pokémon in sight.

Once Natsume looked away, a petite figure gradually materialized in midair.

Satisfied with the photos on its phone, it nodded approvingly.

Then, like a fish in water, it gracefully turned and followed after them, leaving behind a series of cat-like giggles that slowly faded into the air.

---

As time passed, the sky turned a shade of golden dusk.

Mei and Natsume had nearly toured the entire farm.

Many areas were still under development, so they only gave them a brief look.

Natsume shared some of his plans for these spaces with Mei—this patch for a garden, that area for greenhouses, and so on.

In short, there were plenty of ideas.

The farm could undoubtedly be described as promising.

High EQ: “Promising,” a first-rate warrior of the future.
Low EQ: “Nothing much right now.”

“How do you feel?”

Standing at the farm’s entrance, Natsume smiled at Mei.

“It’s been really fun, and also…”

Mei’s gaze drifted to Natsume’s knees.

“…Natsume, your stamina is impressive.”

The remark was slightly ambiguous, but there was no romantic undertone between them.

While touring the farm, Mei had noticed that whenever Natsume encountered small Pokémon, he would habitually squat down to make eye contact while communicating with them.

This approach maximized his ability to convey goodwill without intimidating them.

The advantage of squatting to interact was clear.

The downside?

Sore legs.

Since Natsume squatted, Mei followed suit to engage with the Pokémon.

At first, it was fine—she just thought, “Oh, the Pokémon on the farm are so cute,” “This one’s adorable,” and “That one’s even cuter.”

But gradually, Mei realized something was off.

It seemed like Natsume squatted a lot.

They’d barely walked a few steps before encountering a few Hoppip.

Squat, chat, feed, bid farewell, stand.

A few more steps, and there were some Poochyena.

Squat, chat, feed, bid farewell, stand.

Then came a chatty Corvisquire.

Talk, raise a hand, and—smack!

Wait, what?!

According to Natsume, this Corvisquire was one of the Pokémon he’d caught during his earlier goal of becoming a Trainer.

He had hoped to train it into a cold, aloof powerhouse—the kind that avoided chatter and delivered decisive strikes.

Instead, it turned into a top-tier loudmouth.

It wouldn’t act unless it could taunt its opponent first.

Once, it excitedly told Natsume it had found a new idol: a Korean streamer known for playing Raven and trash-talking between combos.

Natsume’s response? A slap that sent it tumbling.

“Learn something useful for once!”

In the end, Mei found her legs sore and her knees aching after the tour.

Why did it feel like she’d spent the entire afternoon doing squats at the gym?

Yet, looking at Natsume, who showed no signs of exhaustion, Mei started wondering if she should step up her fitness routine.

As a proper Trainer, a strong body was essential!

“By the way, what about this little one?”

Mei glanced at the Bounsweet clinging to her leg, looking distressed.

The Pokémon had been feigning pitifulness since earlier, refusing to let her leave.

It was clear how much it liked her.

But this Bounsweet was one of Natsume’s farm residents and seemed to have already been caught.

“Ah, that’s simple.”

Natsume shrugged, seemingly unconcerned.

He had anticipated such situations from the beginning, so he wasn’t caught off guard.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

“Bounsweet, do you want to see the world outside?”

Crouching to match Bounsweet’s gaze as much as possible, Natsume asked sincerely.

If Bounsweet wanted to leave with Mei, Natsume wouldn’t mind.

To put it bluntly—

She used to be the heroine of the game!

The goodwill bonus from the past, coupled with today’s interactions, had left Natsume with a favorable impression of Mei. And aside from battling, Mei had a somewhat endearing naivety about her.

The two could now be considered friends.

So, if Bounsweet wanted to follow Mei, Natsume wouldn’t oppose it.

There were many reasons:

One was that Natsume hadn’t planned on training Bounsweet. She wasn’t exactly a rare Pokémon. This was a pragmatic consideration.

Of course, the premise was that the other party had to be someone Natsume knew and got along with.

If a random trainer passing by declared they fancied a Pokémon on the farm and asked Natsume to let it go, promising they’d take it to the pinnacle of the world…

Natsume’s likely response would be:
“Persian, wreck them!”

What pinnacle? What sacrifice?

Come back after winning this year’s provincial Beginner’s Cup.

Competitions like that are packed with all kinds of monsters.

Watching those matches teaches humility. It motivates one to get a stable job.

After a few matches, no one talks about the “pinnacle of the world” anymore.

As for the argument that attacking a trainer with Pokémon is illegal, Natsume could only say:
“I can fight myself, no problem.”

Time to experience a punch that can shatter a Protect move.

Sword breaker, physical edition: Breaking your nonsense.

The other reason was that Mei was a good person. If she caught Bounsweet, she’d treat it well.

“Chuu?!”

The question startled Bounsweet.

“Mei’s an excellent trainer. If you go with her, you’ll see sights you’d never experience on the farm.”

“You’ll grow stronger, defeat opponents.”

“You’ll battle alongside your companions. Those will be incredible days.”

“But in return, you won’t have a leisurely life anymore.”

“You’ll need to work hard to meet Mei’s expectations. You can’t get arrogant when you win or discouraged when you lose.”

“And you can’t regret it, thinking you were misled.”

“Do you understand?”

Natsume lowered himself further but soon realized it was impossible to match Bounsweet’s 0.3-meter height. He gave up and instead clarified the pros and cons.

He didn’t want Bounsweet to leave on impulse, only to later find life outside wasn’t what she imagined.

Such disappointments could lead to resentment toward the trainer who took her away.

Better to address these concerns early.

Mei, standing to the side, didn’t interrupt.

Her eyes darted between Natsume and Bounsweet.

Somehow, this felt like a parent giving heartfelt advice to a child before a big journey.

“Chuu...”

Listening to Natsume, Bounsweet’s eyes began to swirl like spirals.

So much information all at once—it was overwhelming.

CPU overload.

Until now, Bounsweet hadn’t thought much about the future. She just liked Mei and thought it might be fun to stay close to her.

“Chuu!”

After some effort, Bounsweet finally made a decision.

She wanted to go!

Her gaze turned resolute.

Though life on the farm was cozy and playing with friends was enjoyable, something always felt missing—like there wasn’t enough excitement.

Now, Bounsweet had decided. She’d leave. She’d grow stronger. She’d fight!

And then, she’d come back to give that Zorua who tricked her a good beating!

She had cared for it, thinking it was abandoned, only to find out later it was all a ruse.

Traitor!

Seeing Bounsweet’s inexplicably fired-up expression, Natsume and Mei exchanged a look.

It seemed like this little one had plenty of spirit.

“Great! That’s the attitude!” Mei cheered.

“Let’s work hard and get stronger together, Bounsweet!”

“Chuu!”

Battle!

“Here, this is Bounsweet’s Pokéball.”

Having anticipated this outcome, Natsume handed over the Pokéball.

After realizing Bounsweet might want to go with Mei, he’d secretly asked Corvisquire to fetch it.

Since each Pokéball was carefully labeled and organized, it wasn’t hard to find.

Of course, all of this was done discreetly.

Otherwise, it might seem like he was eager to get rid of Bounsweet.

If Bounsweet didn’t want to leave, he’d simply consider the effort unnecessary.

“Thank you, Mr. Natsume.”

“It’s just Natsume.”

“Got it, Natsume~” Mei replied playfully.

Turning to Bounsweet, Mei said, “Well then, I’ll be counting on you from now on, Bounsweet.”

“Chuu!”

The red beam of light enveloped Bounsweet, recalling her into the Pokéball.

Although the usual ritual of capture wasn’t necessary since she was already tamed, Mei’s excitement wasn’t diminished.

“Chuu!”

The moment Bounsweet was released again, she clung to Mei like a kitten, rubbing affectionately against her.

Why compare her to a kitten?

Because once grown, she’d stop being clingy (tragically).

Adult cats just find a quiet spot to groom themselves at their leisure.

As for those cute, clingy cats seen online?

Persian says that’s all an act.

“Oh, Natsume, I just thought of something!” Mei suddenly exclaimed, rummaging through her bag.

“Let’s exchange contact information. Also, I owe you some compensation for letting me catch Bounsweet.”

Though Natsume might not care, Mei still felt uneasy leaving without offering something in return for a Pokémon he’d nurtured.

Chapter Text

After a classic Eastern-style tug-of-war over a gift, Mei's compensation was ultimately not accepted.

Accepting compensation for Bounsweet felt uncomfortably similar to selling Pokémon, which wasn’t the image Natsume wanted to convey.

In the future, he might open a Day Care or a ranch, selling eggs and Pokémon to trainers. But that was a distant plan. For now, the idea hadn’t even crossed his mind.

Although the compensation was rejected, Mei ended up purchasing a large number of Pokéblocks from Natsume instead.

If you won’t take compensation, I’ll at least buy your goods, right?

---

“Bye-bye, Natsume!” Mei waved enthusiastically at the farm gate.

“I’ll visit again sometime!”

At her feet, Bounsweet mimicked Mei’s energetic farewells, hopping and calling out to its friends.

Meanwhile, Snivy maintained its aloof demeanor, crossing its arms and tilting its head slightly upward. Yet, when it glanced at Natsume, its gaze softened, hinting at a subtle sense of approval.

Snivy, despite its pride, had acknowledged Natsume’s culinary skills, if nothing else.

Earlier, during dinner, it had even reluctantly admitted that Natsume’s cooking surpassed Mei’s by miles—only to be met with Mei’s furious retaliation in the form of a relentless head rub.

“Take care on the road!” Natsume called after her.

“Don’t worry!” Mei flexed her arm confidently.

“I’ve planned my route carefully. Every path is an official, safe trail—nothing dangerous.”

Her confident stance didn’t match her lighthearted tone, making Natsume almost expect her to exclaim, “We’ll win!”

---

After seeing Mei off, Natsume turned to face the now quieter farm.

“Phew...”

It felt calmer now but also a little too quiet. Perhaps he wasn’t used to prolonged interactions anymore.

For someone who hadn’t socialized much, having a visitor as lively as Mei was a bit nerve-wracking—especially when she was not just any girl but a bright and cheerful one at that.

Still, Natsume figured he hadn’t done too badly. After all, there were plenty of people out there who couldn’t even meet a girl’s gaze without freezing up.

“It's so quiet on the farm now,” Natsume mused.

“Caw?”

Corvisquire tilted its head in confusion.

Quiet? Really?

Looking around, it noticed the chaos: Mightyena being wrestled to the ground by its mate, a swarm of Zigzagoon tearing through the farm, and Shiny Furret leading a squad of recruits in training.

Corvisquire wondered if Natsume was deaf, blind, or perhaps both.

“Don’t overthink it. Let’s head back.”

Natsume ruffled Corvisquire’s carefully groomed feathers, leaving the bird with a messy head of plumage.

---

That evening, the farm Pokémon gathered on the rooftop for a barbecue party under the moonlight.

Yes, a full-fledged Pokémon barbecue.

Before anyone panicked, Natsume clarified that while some Pokémon made for excellent ingredients—such as Farfetch’d’s leek or Slowpoke’s regenerative tails—the feast didn’t actually involve cooking Pokémon themselves.

To ensure safety, Mudkip and Slowpoke were on standby to handle potential fire hazards.

In fact, this impromptu barbecue also doubled as a welcome party for the newer additions to the farm.

“Lopunny, you’re amazing,” Natsume praised, accepting a skewer from the hardworking rabbit, who wore an apron and manned the grill with finesse.

At first, everyone was supposed to cook their own food. However, after assessing the situation, Lopunny took over entirely, unable to bear the sight of others’ attempts at grilling.

“Thanks, Lopunny. Your cooking is the best!”

Lopunny gave him a playful side-eye. “You’re just being lazy, aren’t you?”

“Well... maybe,” Natsume admitted, avoiding her gaze. “But your cooking really is amazing!”

At his feet, Persian purred contentedly, nuzzling his hand before pulling away when he tried to pet it.

It was typical cat behavior—affectionate one moment, evasive the next.

“Meow?”

“Oh, you’re right,” Natsume replied, realizing something.

“Meow!”

“But I don’t even know where it is...”

“Meow...”

“Okay, fine. Tomorrow, we’ll look for it. If we can’t find it, we’ll ask Zorua for help.”

“Meow?”

“No big deal—just a mischievous kid,” Natsume replied, brushing it off.

Finishing his skewer, he handed the stick to Lopunny for another. Can’t I just enjoy myself for once?

---

Meanwhile, in a distant cave, Ogerpon wrestled with its own troubles, unaware of the lively party back at Natsume’s farm.

***************************
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Chapter Text

“Hmm…”

In the quiet of its cave, Ogerpon stared blankly at the scattered items strewn across the ground.

It wanted to craft a gift for Natsume, but something always felt off. No matter how many versions it made, none of them seemed satisfactory.

So, Ogerpon kept revising and retrying, resulting in the current mess.

Clearly, Ogerpon was deeply frustrated.

“Hmm…”

Standing up, it began pacing back and forth in the cave.

This habit was something it had picked up while watching TV with Corvisquire. On TV, whenever a protagonist paced around, they always seemed to come up with solutions to their problems.

Ogerpon thought this method might not only aid in thinking but maybe even boost its IQ.

Unfortunately, reality didn’t align with Ogerpon's expectations.

Despite nearly wearing down the cave floor with its pacing, Ogerpon still couldn’t come up with a good idea.

Even after digging out all its precious treasures, the results were still underwhelming.

To put it lightly, its creations leaned heavily into abstract art.

Somewhere between "ugly" and "interesting" lay a realm Ogerpon reluctantly called “hideously unique.”

“Hmm!”

Clutching its head, Ogerpon let out a wail of despair.

Why don’t I have any artistic talent?!

How do those people on TV effortlessly create masterpieces?!

For the first time, Ogerpon fully understood the pain of lacking natural talent.

After some melodramatic squirming, twitching, shadowy creeping, and frenzied screaming, it suddenly fell silent.

Lying motionless on the ground as if in a sage-like trance, it stared blankly at the barren walls.

After a moment of rest, Ogerpon flipped itself upright with a determined twist. It resumed its craftwork, aspiring to create a gift as beautiful as the ones on TV.

That’s the difference between a novice and an expert.

Beginners—or self-taught enthusiasts—often instinctively compare their work to masterpieces they’ve seen, only to feel dissatisfied and disheartened, doubting their skills.

Experienced veterans, however, focus on finding a few merits in their work, “adjust their expectations,” and conclude: Ignoring the ugly parts, it’s actually not bad.

“Mee?”

In the corner of the spacious cave, a pair of bright blue eyes emerged, observing Ogerpon's struggles with great interest.

The hidden observer pulled out a phone, snapping photos of Ogerpon hard at work.

Satisfied with the pictures, the mysterious Pokémon left quietly, ensuring Ogerpon remained blissfully unaware that its “secret base” had been discovered.

Whether it was due to Ogerpon being too relaxed or the other Pokémon’s excellent stealth, the visit went unnoticed.

---

“Thanks, Zorua.”

Back on the farm, Natsume browsed through the photos Zorua had taken, flipping through shots of Ogerpon in action.

In the images, Ogerpon could be seen fiddling with various items, its focused profile occasionally visible.

While scrolling, Natsume instinctively reached out to scratch under Zorua’s chin.

“Suosuo.”

Zorua didn’t resist. Instead, it tilted its head up, exposing its chin for easier access, purring contentedly as Natsume’s fingers scratched with just the right pressure.

It looked just like a clingy little kitten.

The sight reminded Natsume of a Skitty that lived next door when he was younger—an adorable little cat he absolutely adored.

The only issue was that petting Skitty in front of Persian sometimes felt a little… morally ambiguous.

And maybe… just a tiny bit thrilling (crossed out).

Now, Zorua’s behavior bore a striking resemblance to that Skitty.

“Well, it looks like everything’s fine,” Natsume said, his earlier worries dissipating after seeing Ogerpon's situation.

“Hmm? What’s this?”

His fingers unintentionally swiped to the next photo, and a new set of images appeared on the screen—ones unrelated to Ogerpon.

“Suosuo…”

Zorua froze, its entire body stiffening as its gaze darted nervously.

Just as it tried to sneak away, Natsume gently placed a hand on the back of its neck.

The grip wasn’t forceful, but it carried a weight of authority that made Zorua feel as if even the slightest movement would spell doom.

Pinned by the scruff of fate.

For feline-like creatures, no matter how strong they are, the back of their necks is often their Achilles’ heel.

In theory, you could single-handedly take them down just by grabbing this spot (crossed out).

“So, care to explain this?”

Natsume held up the phone, showing the gallery filled with 100 to 200 photos of him and Mei, all taken from various angles.

Some were close-ups that seemed almost in his face, making it clear these were candid shots taken without his knowledge.

To Natsume’s surprise, Zorua’s photography skills were quite impressive, far surpassing his own.

“Suosuo?”

Feigning innocence, Zorua tilted its head and put on a wide-eyed, innocent expression.

But combined with its naturally sly fox-like face, it didn’t look entirely trustworthy.

“Is that so?”

“Suosuo.”

Of course! I’m a mature fox, and mature foxes don’t lie.

“Well, if you say so…”

Natsume gave Zorua’s head a firm rub before scooping it up and casually tossing it onto the ground.

Zorua landed gracefully, shook its tail, and sauntered off.

As for the phone? That didn’t matter. Since Natsume had bought it, Zorua figured it could just borrow it later.

Before leaving, Zorua gave a cheeky little butt wiggle, eliciting a chuckle from Natsume.

It’s just like a kid, he thought, shaking his head as he pulled out his phone to browse forums.

Though most posts were from trainers, occasionally there’d be some on Pokémon farming and ranching techniques, which Natsume found quite helpful.

Chapter Text

Morning sunlight streamed through the window as Natsume groggily climbed out of bed. Since the farm had gotten on the right track, he’d found himself slacking off a bit lately.

After all, with a group of highly capable partners around, it was hard not to get a little lazy.

Flopping back down, he stretched out on the bed, basking in the warm sunlight. He knew he should get up, but the comfort of his bed was just too enticing.

The brave "Hero Natsume" had lost yet another battle against the “Blanket Demon King,” remaining sealed in his bed fortress.

‘Furret must already be out training,’ he thought, running his hand over the cool, empty sheets beside him.

Recently, the shiny Furret had developed a burning passion for training, bursting out of the house each morning, raring to go.

He’d even started yelling phrases like “My youth will never fade!”—reminding Natsume of a certain green, bowl-cut hero.

Now, Furret was the self-proclaimed boss of the farm. From Sandslash to Cottonee, every Pokémon had tasted his wrath. Even the occasional Poochyena passing by wouldn’t escape a slap before scurrying off with its tail between its legs.

As for Persian? Furret had tried. Once. He was promptly smacked flat to the ground with a single paw.

Incidentally, Furret had also taken charge of a few Sentret from the surrounding area. Now, his inflated size and presence suggested he was growing into a formidable alpha Pokémon.

“If this keeps up, I might actually get my dream of sleeping on Furret like a giant pillow,” Natsume mused with a grin.

The shiny Furret’s enthusiasm had clearly rubbed off on others. Many of the farm’s Pokémon—like Mudkip, Steenee, Yamper, and Zigzagoon—had joined the morning training sessions.

Though, to Natsume, Yamper and Zigzagoon seemed more like they were just there for fun.

Yamper, initially determined to become an excellent herding dog, had quickly been swayed by Zigzagoon’s carefree antics. Soon, he was racing around the farm aimlessly, simply enjoying himself.

“Why run?” Zigzagoon had taught him. “Because it’s fun!”

By the sink, Natsume splashed water on his face and lazily wiped it off with the towel Lopunny handed him.

“Thanks, Lopunny,” he said.

“Lop!” she replied happily, rubbing against him affectionately before heading off to tidy his room.

Normally, cleaning was Minccino’s responsibility, but Lopunny often helped out. The two were inseparable—best friends since their early days.

Now, Lopunny could easily scoop Minccino up like a doll and play with her.

At breakfast, Natsume scrolled through his phone, typing furiously.

He had been negotiating with the owner of a struggling farm that specialized in wool production. The farm raised Wooloo, Mareep, and Skiddo, but poor management and issues with inheritance had led to declining profits.

To keep the farm afloat, they’d resorted to selling Pokémon offspring, much to the discontent of the Pokémon there. The leaders, Ampharos and Gogoat, frequently voiced their protests.

Because most Pokémon were as intelligent as seven or eight-year-old children—and fully evolved Pokémon were comparable to adults—there were strict regulations in place for farm management.

If Pokémon reported mistreatment, authorities would step in, offering two options: fix the problems or sell the farm.

Natsume had been chosen as a suitable buyer: young, capable, with a track record of reviving an abandoned farm. His reputation as a “model youth” made him the ideal candidate.

“Am I... actually becoming an outstanding young man?” Natsume chuckled to himself.

Currently, he was working with the farm owner to finalize the transfer. They were going over details like dietary preferences and daily routines for the Pokémon groups.

Natsume carefully recorded everything in a new memo.

“Soon, we’ll have a lot of new residents on the farm,” Natsume said, looking at Lopunny with a smile. “I’ll need your help when they arrive.”

“Lop!” she replied enthusiastically.

Leave it to me, Natsume!

Her determined expression made Natsume chuckle. It seemed Lopunny was just as ready as he was for the new arrivals.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

The negotiations with the other farm owner had gone smoothly. The owner was quite satisfied with the environment on Natsume's side.

If all went as planned, the Mareep and Wooloo herds would be delivered in three or four days—along with seven or eight Gogoat.

This conveniently solved Natsume’s previous transportation dilemma.

After all, the farm was a short distance from the town.

Walking there for supplies wasn’t a big issue on leisurely days, where he could stroll along with Persian and the others. But when something urgent arose, having a rideable Pokémon became essential.

As for other means of transportation?

There was a tricycle in the farm’s storage shed, but Natsume couldn’t ride it.

Yes, Natsume couldn’t ride a tricycle.

He was skilled with both two-wheeled and four-wheeled vehicles, even earning his driver’s license recently.

But for some inexplicable reason, he just couldn’t get the hang of a tricycle.

Every time he got on it, his body seemed to lose control.

If he wanted to turn left, his body tilted left, but his hands stayed frozen.

Initially, Natsume was determined to conquer it.

After repeated practice, however…

Natsume learned to give up.

If he couldn’t learn it, so be it.

At the edge of the farm, two humanoid Pokémon appeared in the forest, their crimson eyes scanning the area.

“This place seems decent.”

“Still, we need to observe more.”

“Our previous home is no longer an option.”

“Yes, we need to find a new one quickly.”

“Should we seek refuge with this human?”

“For now, he seems promising, but let’s keep watching.”

“Hurry back; the others are waiting for us.”

“Understood.”

With their silent conversation concluded, the two Pokémon disappeared into the woods. Clearly, they were Psychic-types.

---

“Persian, Butterfree, you’re coming with me today,” Natsume said, slinging a small bag over his shoulder.

Last night, Ribombee mentioned that a group of Combee had appeared near the Berry Grove, seemingly led by a Vespiquen.

Given that bee Pokémon are highly territorial and can attack unprovoked, Ribombee asked Natsume to help drive them away—or perhaps capture them.

Normally, Combee are gentle Pokémon that focus solely on gathering pollen.

Even when disturbed by other Pokémon, they tend to relocate to a new flower patch rather than retaliate.

However, Vespiquen, as their queen, was a different story.

A leader. A bee. Commanding other bees.

Combine those traits, and it was easy to imagine a Vespiquen orchestrating an attack with her Combee against intruders.

In certain regions, Vespiquen have even been known to control Beedrill to seize territory, using the aggressive Beedrill to fight while the obedient Combee gather honey for her.

“Briii~”

Butterfree fluttered down from upstairs, its wings buzzing lightly.

Recently, Butterfree had been busy learning new moves from Zorua.

It turned out that Zorua was an exceptional teacher.

Thanks to its guidance, Butterfree’s skill set had expanded considerably.

It was now better equipped to delightfully torment opponents (cough).

Or rather, to fight more effectively.

Meanwhile, Persian hadn’t been focusing on learning new moves lately.

Most of the time, Persian quietly stayed in a corner, sharpening its skills.

A few days ago, Persian reached Level 55, standing on the cusp of becoming Elite-level.

Having been fed countless Pokéblocks since it was young, Persian’s growth was backed by ample resources.

Now, it was simply preparing to step onto the next stage in the best possible condition.

Persian had no intention of stopping here.

“Let’s go!”

After double-checking his gear and confirming he had everything he needed, Natsume set out with Persian and Butterfree.

Since the opponents were just Vespiquen and Combee, he brought only these two Pokémon.

As long as Persian dealt with Vespiquen quickly, the rest would be straightforward.

Bringing Butterfree was just a precaution.

If it had been a swarm of Beedrill, Natsume would have brought more Pokémon.

Speaking of which, he thought, maybe he should recruit more Pokémon to protect himself.

The farm didn’t seem to have any Pokémon specialized in defense or protection.

When it came to safeguarding their trainers, Psychic-types were hard to beat.

Whether it was a Gardevoir, ranked first on fan-favorite lists, or a mature and reliable Slowking, both were exceptional guardians.

Psychic-types were a dream for any trainer: versatile, mysterious, and resourceful.

Only Dragon-types could rival them in desirability.

Psychic-types embodied versatility and mystique, while Dragon-types were the epitome of raw power.

---

By the Berry Grove, a honeycomb-shaped hive was taking shape.

It seemed the Combee—and by extension, Vespiquen—intended to settle here permanently.

“Lately, there’s been quite a surge in migrating Pokémon,” Natsume mused.

This was undoubtedly unusual.

Though Pokémon possessed extraordinary powers, their behaviors generally adhered to natural laws.

For territorial species like Vespiquen, migrating or relocating was nearly unheard of.

Most Vespiquen rarely even left their hive, spending their days producing honey.

Yet here was one, leading her Combee to the edge of Natsume’s farm.

“Well, it’s not my problem for now.”

Shaking his head, Natsume decided not to dwell on it.

Whatever the cause—be it Legendary Pokémon or an evil organization—it wasn’t his concern.

Legendary Pokémon could handle themselves, and evil organizations were just career opportunities for law enforcement.

Evil organizations?

Performance bonuses!

In a country as safe as Jadeleaf Region, such antics were nothing more than fodder for the search officers’ performance reviews.

Or perhaps an extra income source for enthusiastic neighborhood volunteers.

“Buzz, buzz, buzz—”

Even from a distance, the distinct droning of bee Pokémon filled the air.

It was loud and grating.

“Time for negotiations,” Natsume said.

“Meow.”

You mean time to fight?

“Diplomacy first, then force.”

“Meow.”

Whatever makes you happy.

We’re going to fight anyway.

Persian silently resigned itself to the inevitable.

On a distant hill, a humanoid Pokémon observed Natsume quietly, as though lost in thought.

***************************
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P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

The Combees, who had been busily building their hive, immediately grew restless upon noticing the presence of an unfamiliar figure.

Some hurriedly flew back toward the hive, while others formed a defensive wall in front of Natsume, cautiously observing the stranger.

Strictly speaking, they were the intruders here.

But for wild Pokémon, such distinctions might not even exist.

“Hello, Combee. My name is Natsume.”

“I’m the owner of this farm.”

Pointing to the farm behind him, Natsume spoke with a smile.

As the energy of the Viridian Forest coursed through his body, a unique aura of harmony gently spread outward.

The tension among the Combee eased slightly.

Although they didn’t exactly rush up to ask for a hug, they no longer seemed on the verge of biting him with Bug Bite—one of the few moves Combee could learn.

Combee, as a species, was relatively weak. With a base stat total barely over 200 and a move pool limited to less than ten, even Magikarp might mock them as amateurs.

When a Combee evolves into Vespiquen, though...

Well, it’s still just okay.

Despite decent defenses, its Bug/Flying typing comes with multiple weaknesses, including a quadruple weakness to Rock. At best, it’s passable.

Most of the time, it serves as a utility Pokémon, setting hazards like Toxic Spikes.

A few braver Combees cautiously approached Natsume, seemingly testing his intentions.

At the slightest movement from Natsume, they quickly fled back, giving him no chance to get closer.

A sharp buzzing echoed through the air.

As if receiving a command, the Combee dispersed, creating a path as if welcoming their queen.

And indeed, they were. In a Combee colony, there was only one queen: Vespiquen.

The Vespiquen’s appearance resembled a regal figure in a voluminous gown.

Her two pairs of small insect wings seemed far too tiny to support her imposing form.

“Hello, Vespiquen.”

Faced with the leader of the swarm, Natsume remained relaxed.

This is the confidence bestowed by the miraculous Hisuian superhuman physique—or so he liked to think.

If they both traded punches, it wasn’t clear who would end up on the ground.

After introducing himself and the farm, Natsume extended an invitation to Vespiquen.

“Would you like to join the farm?”

Her crimson eyes reflected Natsume’s image as she pondered his offer.

From the start, Vespiquen didn’t have much of a choice.

The farm was the only area in the vicinity with an ideal environment.

There was an almost imperceptible energy lingering in the air. After just two days, Vespiquen felt her fatigue from leading the colony on a long journey dissipate significantly.

The constant exhaustion that had her on the brink of collapse vanished completely.

So yes, she was inclined to stay.

But if not here, where else could she go?

Abandon the fledgling hive, take the colony, and continue searching for another potential home?

That was an absurd idea.

Leaving wasn’t an option, so why not stay?

Besides, she couldn’t win in a fight.

Vespiquen glanced at Natsume’s Persian and Butterfree, her thoughts heavy with resignation.

Yesterday, she had sent her Combee to secretly scout the farm.

The results were clear: if it came to a battle, her colony would be crushed in no time.

The Vespiquen had seen a group of Furret repeatedly charging at incredible speeds. Leading them was a pink Furret, so fast her keen Bug-type eyes almost couldn’t follow.

She had also witnessed Butterfree showcasing its devastating Solar Beam, chilling her heart.

Its subsequent skill demonstrations only made Vespiquen question her very existence.

Aren’t we both Bug-types?

Why does it feel like your Bug-type is on an entirely different level?

How did you learn all those moves? Could you teach me?

(Zorua, meanwhile, gave a smug thumbs-up and happily munched on an energy pokéblock from Butterfree.)

“I’ll join!”

Without hesitation, Vespiquen followed her instincts.

Pokémon never yield!

...Unless there’s free food and shelter.

These terms were simply too good to refuse.

Placing her hand in Natsume’s, Vespiquen’s eyes shone with determination, filled with longing for the promised food and comfort.

“I’ll join—right now!”

“Ah? Oh, okay.”

Vespiquen’s decisiveness left Natsume momentarily stunned.

“That was... quick.”

Had she already made up her mind beforehand?

Still, a peaceful resolution was always welcome.

After all, Natsume considered himself a pacifist—at least when unprovoked.

“Welcome to the farm, Vespiquen.”

With practiced ease, Natsume completed the process of recruiting Vespiquen.

The queen extended her hand again—not to shake it but to eagerly accept another pokéblock.

The moment she tasted it, her eyes lit up.

“Wow, do all city Pokémon eat like this?”

The delectable treat left her envious.

From now on, she was determined to enjoy the finer things in life!

Persian and Butterfree exchanged glances from their spot by Natsume’s feet.

“No battle today?”

How surprising.

Still, it wasn’t a bad thing.

“Later, I’ll expand the fence outward slightly,” Natsume said.

“That way, your hive will be included within the farm’s boundaries.”

Initially, Natsume had planned to relocate the hive near the Berry Grove.

But since Vespiquen’s hive was already partially constructed, he couldn’t realistically move it intact. Expanding the fence was the simpler solution.

Besides, the area was already part of the farm, so it wasn’t technically a violation.

---

On a nearby hillside, a humanoid Pokémon silently observed Natsume.

It could sense that he wasn’t a bad person and harbored a sincere love for Pokémon.

A pure, selfless affection with no ulterior motives.

“Gallade,” it murmured.

Turning away, the Gallade disappeared from the hillside in an instant, preparing to discuss matters with its sister.

At the same time, Natsume turned toward the hill, sensing something unusual.

His gaze found only an empty slope.

“An illusion?”

“No, there was definitely a Pokémon watching just now.”

Natsume was certain of it.

Chapter Text

In the dim forest, a Gardevoir stood silently with several Ralts, waiting.

About a month ago, the forest they lived in underwent a sudden and eerie transformation.

From the forest's heart came an indescribable presence, an oppressive aura that lasted only a moment but was enough to unsettle every Pokémon in the area—especially the Psychic-type Gardevoir.

Had it not been for their ancestral ties to the forest, Gardevoir would have instantly teleported away with her younger siblings.

And that’s precisely what she had done initially—rushing home with Teleport to gather her Ralts siblings.

As for her Gallade brother?

He’d manage. Probably.

But for various reasons, they hadn’t been able to leave immediately. Troubled by this growing unease, they stayed a while longer.

It wasn’t long before the forest began to die.

Starting from the central spring, “death” quietly spread.

Trees turned an ashen gray and withered, crumbling to powder at a mere touch. The ground cracked and became barren, while the once-clear spring transformed into a stagnant, turbid pool.

The Pokémon residing near the center visibly aged at an alarming rate.

Within just days, those closest to the source became frail and decrepit. Muscles atrophied, bones weakened, and even minimal movement inflicted severe damage upon their bodies.

Fleeing wasn’t an option—they could only lie helplessly, waiting for death to claim them.

Their clouded eyes reflected no trace of hope or will to live.

Gallade had witnessed all of this firsthand during his reconnaissance.

That moment, he wholeheartedly agreed with his sister’s initial instinct.

We should have fled this place ages ago!

Luckily, their home on the forest's outskirts had spared them from the worst effects.

Even so, fatigue weighed heavily on Gardevoir and her siblings. Their psychic powers grew dull, and their internal energy became sluggish and unresponsive.

Given time, they, too, would succumb to the same fate as those at the forest's center.

Determined to protect his family, Gallade had quickly whisked his siblings away from their long-time home.

Leaving behind the memories of their years there was painful, but their lives were far more valuable.

You can rebuild a home, but there’s no coming back from death.

“Gallade!”

A sudden ripple in the air heralded Gallade’s arrival in front of Gardevoir.

“Sis?”

His psychic link reached out, connecting their thoughts.

Gallade began relaying everything he had observed and the conclusions he’d drawn.

First, his assessment of Natsume: this human seemed trustworthy.

Not only was Natsume kind, but he also had the resources to care for their family. The Pokémon living on his farm were healthy and thriving.

Moreover, Natsume wasn’t an ordinary human. There was something about him—an energy within him that resonated deeply with Gallade’s Psychic senses.

This mysterious energy was the Viridian Force, an innate gift Natsume had struggled to control in his youth. Back then, it had made him a magnet for Pokémon, much like a walking treasure trove.

Even now, Natsume was still like catnip to certain Pokémon. The neighbor’s Glameow, for instance, practically turned feral every time she saw him.

“I think we should approach him. He seems reliable,” Gallade concluded confidently, seated cross-legged.

Despite being the elder sibling, he had no qualms about deferring to Gardevoir’s judgment.

After all, his analytical skills left much to be desired.

Why stress myself when I have an external brain to do the thinking?

After a moment of thought, Gardevoir made her decision.

“We’ll meet him.”

Even if they ultimately chose not to stay, they could always retreat if necessary.

This was no small step for Gardevoir, given her acute awareness of how humans often coveted her kind.

To most humans, Gardevoir was irresistible—a combination of power, elegance, and allure.

Whether they sought strength, beauty, or companionship, there was no reason to reject her species.

Even for those with niche tastes, the male “Sirknight” form offered its own appeal.

Gallade, meanwhile, had always been a little less popular—through no fault of his own.

It wasn’t about strength or appearance; it was just human preferences.

The human psyche truly is a strange and terrifying thing...

---

Unaware of the impending arrival of a “Gardevoir family,” Natsume was busy reviewing his farm's layout.

Natsume spread out the farm's blueprints, gesturing as he spoke. Beside him stood muscular girl Miss Machamp, who had been overseeing the farm's construction.

Thanks to her efficient work and agreeable nature, Natsume saw no need to hire another construction team. After all, horror stories about dishonest contractors were rampant online. He'd even considered capturing a few Pokémon specialized in construction to handle things himself.

“Leave it to me!”

The muscular girl slapped her chest with a resounding thud, brimming with enthusiasm. As she took the blueprints, she couldn't help but marvel at Natsume's progress.

Now, Natsume was even expanding his Pokémon population, bringing in entire families.

Her own life had transformed alongside the farm's growth. No longer teetering on the edge of bankruptcy, she could finally afford small luxuries: Grabbing street snacks without checking prices, adding sausage and eggs to her instant noodles....

Just keep working hard! Next month, maybe I'll myself to something even better!

“Work hard, everyone!” she rallied her Machamp crew.

“Let’s do this!”

Behind her, the team of Machamp and other muscular Pokémon raised their fists, their spirits ablaze with determination.

Watching this display, the shiny Furret lounging by Natsume’s feet gave an approving nod.

Good energy. Nice!

Just as Natsume was about to head off to prepare pokéblocks, a Mightyena wearing a red scarf dashed toward him.

“Woof! Woof!”

The recently evolved Mightyena skidded to a dramatic stop, wagging its tail as he delivered an urgent message to Natsume.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

Three or four days ago, Poochyena’s older brother successfully evolved into Mightyena.

While Natsume’s care and feeding played a big part, his own natural talent also contributed to the achievement.

The newly evolved Mightyena was noticeably taller than his unreliable father, towering over him like a true “wolf” rather than a mere “dog.” When they stood side by side, it was hard to tell who the real parent was.

Since arriving at the farm, Mightyena had been especially lively, dutifully fulfilling his responsibilities while often wandering around various corners of the property. The red scarf tied around his neck was a gift from Natsume, who had personally put it on him.

Good, well-behaved Pokémon always hold a special place in people’s hearts, and Natsume was no exception. Although, truth be told, the ones who cry and make a fuss often seem to get more attention.

“What’s the matter?”

“Woof! Woof!”

“Oh, I see.”

After crouching down and communicating with Mightyena, Natsume understood the situation.

A Gardevoir was waiting just outside the farm. She wanted to meet him and discuss moving her family onto the farm. Unsure how to handle this alone, Mightyena had come to report it to Natsume.

For now, Gardevoir was being watched by Mightyena’s parents. As Dark-types, Mightyena and his family could counter Psychic-types like Gardevoir effectively. Psychic-type attacks would barely affect them.

Although Gardevoir’s ability to use Teleport could prove tricky in a fight, at least they weren’t completely powerless against her.

Side note: In games, certain matchups are absolutely immune. For example, Ground-type moves deal zero damage to Flying-types, regardless of level differences.

This means, theoretically, even if Groudon used Precipice Blades on a Pidgey, the damage would be... zero.

But in reality, immunity isn’t absolute. It exists only when the strength gap isn’t significant.

If the disparity is vast enough, even Lightning moves can kill Ground-types. Immunity translates to “minimal damage” rather than none at all.

Otherwise, people could simply swarm Groudon with Pidgeys. After all, its Ground-type moves would be useless, and it can’t even fly.

Of course, Groudon knows more than just Ground-type moves.

---

“Garde...”

Gardevoir, waiting quietly outside the farm, raised her head at some point.

Her crimson eyes reflected Natsume’s approaching figure.

Just as her brother had described, this human radiated an inexplicable sense of warmth and comfort.

The closer he got, the stronger this feeling grew—like lying in a sunlit meadow on a lazy afternoon.

Pure bliss.

Except, perhaps, for those allergic to pollen. For them, this would be hell on earth.

“Hello, Gardevoir. My name is Natsume.”

“Garde.”

Hello, Natsume.

Nodding slightly, Gardevoir initiated communication.

Her psychic tendrils extended and linked with Natsume’s mind, allowing him to “hear” her voice clearly in his head.

Her tone resembled that of a quiet, aloof girl who prefers solitude—distant even during rare moments of interaction.

“I’d like to bring my brother and sisters to live on the farm,” Gardevoir stated plainly. “Is there anything we need to do? Battle? Or something else?”

She got straight to the point. Gardevoir found human conversational tactics baffling, so she avoided unnecessary pleasantries.

Her brother, however, seemed oddly comfortable with them. Gardevoir neither understood nor wanted to understand.

“Something to do, huh?” Natsume mused, tapping his chin. “I’d say helping out around the farm is the main thing.”

“Since you’re Psychic-types, I might rely on you for security and occasionally managing certain areas.”

He had no objections to Gardevoir and Gallade joining the farm.

After all, no one transported to the Pokémon world can resist the allure of Gardevoir. It’s like Yu-Gi-Oh! players during the GX era—they can’t resist using banned cards.

Why not bring a touch of chaos to this otherwise orderly world?

That said, Natsume wouldn’t tolerate freeloaders on his farm. If they joined, they had to contribute in some way—nothing too strict, just a general understanding.

If even this was unacceptable, then Natsume wouldn’t accept them. After all, Pokémon were like children; excessive pampering would only spoil them.

“Understood.”

Gardevoir nodded. To her, these conditions were negligible.

If Natsume had demanded nothing at all, she would’ve been suspicious.

So far, her impression of him was excellent. Using her psychic abilities, she could sense no malice, greed, or other dark emotions from him.

“Can I take a tour of the farm?” she asked after some thought.

Although she had observed it from afar, Gardevoir preferred to inspect the place openly and formally.

“Of course!” Natsume replied, recognizing her interest.

Turning to Mightyena’s parents, he patted their heads and handed each a few Pokéblocks before addressing Gardevoir:

“Allow me to be your guide.”

“Garde.”

Thank you.

Chapter Text

“How are you feeling?”

Standing on a small hill on the farm, Natsume glanced at the Gardevoir beside him.

“It’s a very nice place,” Gardevoir responded earnestly after a brief two-second pause.

It wasn’t just the environment—it was the Pokémon here too. Each one seemed happy, with something meaningful to do.

The shiny Furret was busy training, while the Sandslash in the fields leisurely tended the crops, occasionally parting stalks to check on the growth of the Wattmel Berries.

On the second floor of Natsume’s house, the recluse Corvisquire was absorbed in binge-watching shows, while Minccino hummed a tune as it cleaned the windows.

Meanwhile, Emolga perched on a Zigzagoon’s head, venturing across the farm, and near the lake, Mudkip trailed behind a Slowpoke, jogging laps around the water, as if working on their fitness.

Every single one of them looked genuinely happy.

By all accounts, this was an excellent farm. Gardevoir thought life here would be very comfortable, and her younger sisters would surely enjoy it too.

“So, what’s your decision?”

“Would you like to stay?”

Without hesitation, Gardevoir placed her hand in Natsume’s outstretched one.

“Thank you for having us, Natsume,” she said.

As the decision-maker of her family, Gardevoir’s choice would naturally be accepted by everyone. And before this, her not-so-reliable elder brother Gallade had already scouted the farm and proposed joining.

In this rare instance, Gardevoir begrudgingly acknowledged Gallade’s judgment. For a brief ten minutes, he truly seemed like a competent big brother.

But only ten minutes. No more.

Gardevoir knew very well her brother wasn’t the most dependable. Most of the time, it felt like he had dumped all his intelligence points into combat skills, leaving him woefully lacking in other areas.

Even a zombie prying open his skull would walk away disappointed.

Pulling out a Poké Ball, Natsume held it in front of Gardevoir. She extended a hand and lightly tapped the button.

A beam of red light enveloped Gardevoir, and in the blink of an eye, she was drawn inside.

The ball gave a token wobble before settling into stillness.

“I’ve caught Gardevoir!”

In that moment, even Natsume, who had already caught numerous Pokémon, couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement.

After all, it was Gardevoir—a dream Pokémon!

To be honest, Natsume had become rather indifferent to the act of catching Pokémon. Many of the farm’s Pokémon weren’t even formally caught; they simply stayed.

For example, the horde of Combee under Vespiquen.

On one hand, their sheer number was impractical, and on the other, no typical trainer would be interested in Combee anyway.

But Gardevoir and Ralts? They were exceptions.

Who could possibly resist these adorable, psychic powerhouses?

The Poké Ball opened automatically, and Gardevoir reappeared before Natsume in a burst of red light.

Most of the farm’s Poké Balls had been modified by Natsume to allow the Pokémon inside to enter and exit at will.

The standard design locked the ball externally, preventing Pokémon from leaving on their own. Removing this mechanism was a common skill among traveling trainers, saving valuable time in emergencies.

“Thank you,” Gardevoir said, nodding to Natsume. Her form glowed faintly with psychic energy before she disappeared, teleporting away.

She had gone to fetch her brother and sisters.

“Well, looks like I’ll need to make some new kinds of Pokéblocks,” Natsume mused.

Since the farm had never housed Psychic-type Pokémon before, there hadn’t been any need to prepare Pokéblocks tailored to them. While visiting challengers occasionally brought Psychic-types, Natsume hadn’t felt it necessary to craft special treats for temporary guests.

“Let’s see, Gardevoir and Ralts should be fine with the same formula,” he muttered. “But Gallade will need a separate batch.”

Ralts, Kirlia, and Gardevoir were classic mage archetypes—high special attack and special defense but lacking in physical stats.

Gallade, on the other hand, was a dual-blade fighter with high physical and special attack but weaker defenses, essentially trading special defense points for attack power.

“Gallade!”
“Ralts?”

While Natsume pondered the recipes and materials needed, Gardevoir returned, accompanied by a Gallade and four timid Ralts peeking out from behind their elder siblings.

Though a bit shy, their curiosity got the better of them, and they couldn’t help but sneak glances at Natsume.

“Is he really as nice as big brother said?”

“Big sister said the same thing.”

“He gives off such a warm and comforting vibe.”

“I feel it too—it’s really nice.”

The four little green “watermelon heads” huddled together, whispering, occasionally raising their ruby-red eyes to steal glances at Natsume.

Their tiny, curious faces peeked through their green hair, their expressions a mix of curiosity, worry, and hesitation.

Clearly, the young Ralts were still a little uneasy about their new surroundings.

“Hello there, Ralts,” Natsume greeted them warmly. “I’m Natsume, the owner of this farm.”

Somehow, this opening line had become his go-to phrase. Like an NPC in a game with fixed dialogue, it set the stage for what was to come.

“Your siblings have probably already told you—soon, you’ll be joining the farm too. Simply put, we’ll be partners from now on.”

Natsume chose his words carefully, avoiding phrases like “becoming family,” which felt too heavy and imposing.

Imagine meeting someone for the first time and being told, “We’re family now.” The pressure would be immense.

“Ralts?”
“Ralts, Ralts!”

The little Ralts exchanged glances. Finally, one of them stepped forward bravely, looking Natsume in the eye and extending a tiny hand.

“Hello, Ralts,” Natsume said with a soft laugh, gently tapping its hand with his finger.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

The hardest part of communication is often the initial step of establishing a connection.

Most people aren't inherently lacking in the ability or talent to communicate. Yet, they appear unskilled at conversation because they falter at building that first bridge of communication.

This is especially true for Ralts, a Pokémon that can sense human emotions and flee at the slightest hint of unease.

However, for Natsume, this wasn’t much of a challenge.

With a calm mindset and a touch of psychic power, earning the trust and affection of Ralts was an effortless task.

After all, Natsume had earned the nickname "Little Charmer of Daitaka Preschool" for a reason.

“Ralts, Ralts!”

Before long, the little green Ralts were crowding around Natsume, chattering away non-stop.

They eagerly shared their curiosity about the farm, their experiences so far, and even whispered complaints about their older siblings.

The last part, in particular, gave them the vibe of classic backstabbers.

Selling out their older siblings right after meeting someone new—whether it was out of naivety or genuine affection for Natsume, who could say?

Even though people say “the eldest brother is like a father,” Gallade didn’t seem to hold much authority in the family.

“Alright, alright, let’s go meet the others on the farm,” Natsume said with a chuckle, scooping up a Ralts that had climbed onto his head and cradling it in his arms.

Turning to the observing Gallade and Gardevoir, he added, “Shall we?”

“Gallade!”

Gallade raised an arm in agreement. Since the newcomers didn’t have gifts prepared, at the very least, they should introduce themselves.

After all, it would be awkward if, after living on the farm for a while, they were mistaken for outsiders due to their low profile.

Gardevoir, on the other hand, remained indifferent.

It didn’t particularly care as long as no one forced it to bond with others.

True social anxiety.

Gardevoir embodied the essence of true social anxiety: not announcing it to the world, not retreating to a corner to stand out, nor engaging in eccentric behavior to attract attention.

Real social anxiety involved blending seamlessly into the crowd, minimizing one’s presence.

Laugh when others laugh, cry when others cry—thus the origins of “delayed laughter” and “delayed tears” (or so it claimed).

After formally capturing Gallade and the Ralts group, Natsume released them again and began the walk back to the house.

Not capturing them wasn’t an option; leaving them unregistered on the farm made him uneasy.

Believing in the inherent goodness and moral integrity of humanity often left people vulnerable to malice.

Natsume had no intention of becoming the protagonist of a melodramatic tragedy.

No misunderstandings, no slapping contests.

He had neither the need nor the patience for such nonsense.

He’d rather spend that time napping with his shiny Furret.

Speaking of which, due to its intense training regime lately, Furret was no longer as soft and plush as before—its once-cuddly body had hardened slightly.

A pity.

But no matter—there were plenty of other Pokémon on the farm to cuddle.

Take Lopunny, for instance.

Though Lopunny had yet to share Natsume’s bed, it was tempting.

While its fluffy, humanoid form was undeniably adorable, something about it still felt a bit... awkward.

Perhaps one day, when Natsume decided to embrace his inner "Dark Emperor," he’d proudly step into the world of furry fandom.

“Everyone, we have new friends!”

Pushing open the door, Natsume was greeted by a flurry of Pokémon scurrying out from all corners of the house.

Minccino was the first to hop down from a windowsill, inspecting the Ralts group hiding behind Natsume, as well as the flanking Gardevoir and Gallade.

Satisfied, it nodded approvingly.

Diligent newcomers—good, good.

For Minccino, cleaning wasn’t the issue—it had to do that anyway.

What it couldn’t stand were Pokémon that lacked motivation.

It particularly disapproved of Togepi and Hisuian Zorua.

Hisuian Zorua, a perennial wallflower in the household, had recently teamed up with the troublemaker Togepi.

Now the duo spent their days causing chaos across the farm.

Stealing eggs, sneaking into storage, and yes—literally “petting the dog.”

A Mightyena’s rear was nearly rubbed bald.

From a distance, the shiny patch of fur on its hindquarters gleamed conspicuously.

“Mimi!”

After a brief introduction, Minccino happily returned to its cleaning duties.

Another satisfying day.

Following Minccino, Lopunny, Emolga, Butterfree, Zorua, and Persian all came forward to greet the newcomers.

As for Shiny Furret and Corvisquire?

Furret was outside training tirelessly, only returning for meals and rest.

Corvisquire, on the other hand, had become a recluse, binge-watching shows upstairs in increasingly unhealthy positions.

Its once-fit frame was growing rounder by the day.

Unable to stand it, Natsume assigned Furret the task of dragging Corvisquire out daily for training.

Do what you must—just don’t overdo it.

At this rate, Corvisquire might soon turn into a feathery ball, unable to fly.

The thought of it rolling around on the ground, frantically flapping its wings, was both amusing and tragic.

“But space is becoming an issue,” Natsume mused, glancing at the crowded living room.

When he first moved in, it had just been him, Butterfree, Persian, and Corvisquire.

Back then, the space was more than adequate.

Now, however, with the growing number of Pokémon in the household, the space was feeling cramped.

Sure, they could all technically fit, but comfort was another matter.

If fitting was all that mattered, a cramped internet café booth would suffice.

Thankfully, the new home under construction—a spacious three-story villa—was nearly complete.

It boasted plenty of rooms, more than enough for the current Pokémon.

By the time space became an issue again, the farm would have reached a new level, complete with facilities like breeding houses.

So, Natsume wasn’t too worried.

“Gardevoir.”

“Gallade.”

The two Pokémon introduced themselves warmly, only to discover, to their surprise, that many Pokémon on the farm shared similar stories of having fled from hardship.

Chapter Text

Much like how Stand Users are drawn to one another,
those with similar experiences often resonate with each other and become fast friends.

Many of the Pokémon at Natsume’s farm were forced to leave their original homes due to unexpected disasters.

The Gardevoir family lost their forest when it died off.
The Emolga were displaced after a sudden rise in temperature made their habitat uninhabitable.

As for the Bounsweet herd, their plight was even more tragic.
A powerful and mysterious Pokémon claimed their entire forest, driving all its inhabitants away to seek refuge elsewhere.

“Alright, thank you so much.”

While the Gardevoir family shared their experiences, Natsume ended his phone call.

The platform had just called to confirm some basic details and the farm’s location.
They informed him that by the afternoon, the two Pokémon herds he had purchased—along with a few Gogoat—would be delivered to the farm,
along with various supplies he’d ordered.

Since the Ampharos herd’s original farm was shutting down, they decided to sell everything off, including all their equipment.
Natsume had picked out and bought some of it.

Having familiar items from their old home would help the Ampharos feel more at ease.

As for the Wooloo, caring for them was no simple task.
Beyond dietary needs, their daily care required regular inspections and adjustments.
It wasn’t an easy job.

Fortunately, the farm now had a team of psychic prodigies.

With the help of the Gardevoir family, everything should go much more smoothly.

“This is what it means to finally be on the right track.”

Now with berry orchards, crop fields, and Pokémon capable of production,
the farm felt complete. Before, it always felt like something was missing.

“From now on, I’ll be counting on all of you.”

Natsume turned to the Gardevoir family, who were still chatting with their new friends.

‘No problem at all,’ Gardevoir nodded, finding it a trivial matter.

For others, being put to work right after arriving at the farm might have been unpleasant.
But for Gardevoir, it was fine.

To truly belong here, they needed to show their value.
She didn’t want her sisters and herself to be seen as dispensable.
Even if they disappeared one day, she wanted their presence to matter.

---

By the afternoon, the farm was bustling.

Just moments ago, a large group of new residents had arrived.

“Let’s see here…”

Holding a thick stack of documents, Natsume checked the numbers for the two herds.

The Ampharos herd consisted of one leading Ampharos, three additional Ampharos, and a large group of Mareep and Flaaffy.
Considering that Mareep lose their wool as they evolve, most of the Mareep in the herd were relatively low-leveled.

The Ampharos among them were older and had grown into their roles over time.
In terms of strength, they weren’t particularly formidable.

The Wooloo herd, however, had no such limitations.

Whether Wooloo or Dubwool, their wool was of excellent quality, both in texture and quantity.

Touching it felt soft and warm.
A gentle squeeze would sink your fingers into the fluffy wool, warmth seeping through your fingertips, making it hard to let go.
Given enough time, you might even lose yourself in the sensation.

“Baaah...”

The leading Ampharos was instructing its herd, emphasizing the importance of staying low-key in their new home.
If anyone faced grievances, they were told to hold back and report it to their leader, who would handle it with Natsume.

The Mareep and Flaaffy listened attentively, occasionally bleating in response.

For some reason, the scene appeared oddly amusing.

Perhaps it was because Ampharos and Mareep looked nothing alike.
A sheep that evolved into a dragon—what a peculiar transition.

Even if it was technically a “pseudo-dragon” with just the name, its Mega Evolution did grant it the rare Electric/Dragon type.

Aside from Ampharos, very few Pokémon shared this unique typing:
Zekrom, Dracozolt, Miraidon, and Iron Jugulis—the last rumored to be a Paradox form of Raikou.

Meanwhile, the Dubwool leader was having a similar talk with its herd.

Their previous farm had been fraught with conflict with the owner.
What began as tolerable tensions had eventually escalated into irreconcilable disputes.

Knowing this, the Dubwool leader emphasized the importance of behaving well, at least during the early days at the new farm.
Even if they were merely pretending, it was crucial to start off on the right foot.

Along with the Ampharos and Dubwool herds, several Gogoat were also delivered.

These Pokémon were not known for their combat capabilities.
Instead, their endurance was remarkable, having served as mounts and beasts of burden.

“From now on, I’ll be counting on you too.”

After giving the Gogoat a quick health check, Natsume patted each one on the head.

Gentle in nature, highly resilient, and sturdy enough to carry an adult human over long distances,
it was no wonder they earned their title as dependable mounts.

In this regard, only Cyclizar could rival them.

Although Cyclizar looked like the ideal ride,
it was actually a noble Dragon-type Pokémon with base stats exceeding 500.

Unlike Gogoat, Cyclizar came with no evolutions or pre-evolutions and boasted decent combat capabilities right from the start.

Its versatility and strong traits made it a luxurious choice, far removed from the simplicity of Gogoat.

---

Back to the main story: after settling in the two herds, the farm became livelier than ever.

With so many new residents arriving at once, the prospect of making new friends thrilled everyone.

Togepi was particularly excited.

But the most elated of all was Yamper.

“Arf! Arf! Arf!”

At the sight of so many sheep, Yamper felt an instinct awaken within him.

He zipped around the herds like a flying loaf of bread, barking energetically, as if herding them.

Unfortunately, his cute appearance lacked the authority to match.

Most Pokémon simply stared at him with curiosity, and a bold Wooloo even approached to nudge him with its head.

This left Yamper flustered.

Hey! That’s not how you’re supposed to react!

Couldn’t you at least play along a little?

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

For Yamper, becoming a proper herding dog still seemed like a distant goal. At least until it evolved into Boltund, it was missing something crucial.

But that didn’t matter; the farm had the Mightyena family to help out as well.

As the parents and elder sibling, Mightyena focused most of its energy on patrolling the farm. Meanwhile, its younger siblings, Poochyena, showed an unexpected enthusiasm for herding duties.

Perhaps it was a canine thing, but the two Poochyena got along very well with Yamper.

Unlike their calm elder sibling and meticulous mother, the younger Poochyena had inherited their father’s rather unreliable traits.

In short, the Husky genes had taken over.

Many joked that while other large dog breeds might be labeled as fierce, Huskies would probably be classified as defective—unpredictable in both intelligence and behavior.

And it seemed the father and younger siblings of this family were prime examples of this stereotype, much to the eldest Poochyena’s occasional dismay, making it feel somewhat out of place.

“Bark, bark, bark!”

The three mischievous pups darted around the two herds, filling the farm with lively commotion.

While the farm already housed many Pokémon, most were reserved and kept to themselves for various reasons. The only exception was the shiny Furret, who had recently taken to leading its gang around in a showy display.

But starting today, the farm would clearly be much livelier.

“Alright, everything seems to be in order.”

After cross-checking the list in his hands, Natsume gave his shoulder a pat, satisfied.

To be honest, it had been quite the task. The previous farm owner had been meticulous, keeping records for every Pokémon, and Natsume had instinctively followed suit, checking on each one individually. By the time he realized what he was doing, he figured he might as well finish the job.

This was all with Gardevoir’s help, too. Otherwise, it might’ve taken him until nightfall.

“Meow.”

Lying at Natsume’s feet, Persian let out a long yawn, showing no reaction to his antics.

Persian had long known its trainer wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box—something it would only dare mutter internally. Saying it aloud would invite “fatherly love,” as Natsume called it.

Persian agreed, primarily because it couldn’t win a fight against him. And even if it could, what then?

Would it cook its own meals?

No one messes with their meal ticket.

After a brief chat with the leaders of the Ampharos and Dubwool herds, Natsume asked Gardevoir to bring over the Pokéblocks he’d prepared.

“Garde.”

With a nod, Gardevoir’s eyes glimmered with a soft blue light. In the blink of an eye, it disappeared, only to reappear moments later with a large bag in hand.

The bag was slightly open, revealing Pokéblocks that sparkled like gemstones under the sunlight, their alluring sheen enough to make any Pokémon salivate.

That’s exactly what happened with the Ampharos and Dubwool leaders, who eagerly dug into their portions.

Forget their herds; their first priority was to enjoy the feast themselves.

The Pokéblocks made by Natsume weren’t just delicious—they were extraordinary.

Even for seasoned Pokémon who had lived on farms and eaten their fair share of treats, this was a whole new level.

As a warm energy coursed through their bodies, the leaders exchanged satisfied glances.

This farm owner? Fantastic.

They could settle here without a second thought.

“All right, I’ll leave you to it. If there’s anything you need or any suggestions about the environment, let me know,” Natsume said, leaning against a newly built fence.

The gate to the enclosure remained open—not to restrict the Pokémon’s movements but to remind them to return to the enclosure at night.

Wandering too far wouldn’t necessarily be dangerous, but it could attract trouble.

Take Hisuian Zorua, for example.

After hearing from its Unovan counterpart that Ghost-type Pokémon thrive by scaring others, it had recently taken to planning pranks.

Unfortunately, its kind nature made it hesitate, worried about actually frightening or harming anyone on the farm it was close to.

As a result, it often missed the perfect moments for mischief, leaving it frustrated.

But with so many new Pokémon, Zorua felt it had a golden opportunity. It didn’t know them yet, so there’d be no guilt.

Determined, Hisuian Zorua set off to embark on its prankster career.

Meanwhile, its Unovan counterpart—revered on the farm as a “teacher,” “mentor,” and “master of skills”—was searching for something.

“Zorua?”

For a while now, it had sensed a familiar presence. Initially, it thought it was just its imagination, but the feeling had grown stronger recently.

Eventually, Zorua stopped by the small lake, tilting its head as it peered into the water, its gaze piercing through to the lakebed.

An egg?

“Zorua?”

Its head tilted further, showing a thoughtful expression.

After swiping at the water with its paw, Zorua intercepted a passing Goldeen and started a conversation.

“Zoru-zoru?”

“Goldeen!”

“Zorua.”

Ah, so that’s what it was.

Nodding in understanding, Zorua’s expression lit up with sudden clarity.

What had it realized? That remained a mystery.

Chapter Text

As night fell, Natsume, having worked tirelessly all day, decided to order takeout for himself.

Tonight, he didn’t feel like cooking.

Making Pokéblocks was enjoyable, but cooking…

Well, everyone knows that cooking involves far more than just frying up a dish.
Buying ingredients, washing, prepping, frying, plating, and cleaning up afterward—frying is merely the easiest part, while the others are the real time and energy drain.

Since he’d been busy all day, Natsume just didn’t feel like going through all that tonight.

“Thanks, Delibird.”
Taking the delivery from the Delibird, Natsume waved at it in thanks.

The Delibird perched on his windowsill gave him a polite wave in return.

Unlike the courier Delibird from before, this one wasn’t carrying a large bag.

Delibird’s tail doubles as a pouch, though its capacity is somewhat limited. That’s why the previous Delibird needed to carry a bigger bag for extra items.

Watching the Delibird disappear into the night sky, Natsume sighed in reflection.
“Working late delivering food… must be tough.”

He suddenly regretted not offering the Delibird a Pokéblock.

When it came to Pokémon, Natsume had always been forgiving and fond. Even for Pokémon just passing by, he wouldn’t hesitate to show them kindness.

Humans, however? Natsume wasn’t nearly as patient or kindhearted.

It’s like how the faults of humans—laziness, obesity, round faces, or small eyes—might annoy people, but those same traits on animals? They’re endearing.
A lazy cat gets cuddled, a chubby dog gets hugged... but no one hugs you (strikethrough).

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Natsume placed the steaming takeout on a small round table.

“Leee.”
Nearby, a shiny Furret, having just finished its daily training, lay sprawled comfortably on the floor.

Its body curled into a perfect C shape, making it the perfect makeshift couch for Natsume to lean against.

“You’ve grown bigger, haven’t you?”

Leaning against the shiny Furret’s fluffy body, Natsume rubbed its fuzzy head.

It seemed noticeably larger than when it first arrived at the farm. By now, its body length had exceeded the norm for its species by at least half.

Despite its increased size, the Furret’s speed hadn’t dropped at all. In fact, it was so fast that it could now rival Persian for the title of the farm’s swiftest Pokémon.

“Leee?”
Have I?

The shiny Furret tilted its head in puzzlement. It wasn’t entirely sure. Maybe?

Growing bigger didn’t feel as obvious to it. After all, who really notices themselves getting taller day by day?

But it did notice that it had been getting faster lately.

In fact, it could now outrun most of the Pokémon on the farm during their training sessions.

Great! The training’s working!

Tomorrow, I’ll train even harder!

Resolved, the shiny Furret silently vowed to keep pushing itself.

---

After quickly finishing his meal, Natsume followed his usual routine of checking on the Pokémon around the house.

The Minccino, fresh from cleaning, was taking a bath.
Lopunny was tidying up.
The Hisuian Zorua was playfully chasing Togepi.
Corvisquire was engrossed in watching videos on its Poképhone, occasionally mimicking lines it found amusing.
Persian and Butterfree were deep in conversation, as usual, sharing topics they always seemed to have in common.

Then there was Zorua… playing some sort of wobble game on top of an egg?

“Wait a second…”

Natsume stared at the scene, dumbfounded.

“Where did you get that egg?”

He didn’t recall any Pokémon on the farm laying an egg recently.

Surely, no Pokémon would secretly lay an egg, abandon it, and disappear, right? That seemed way too far-fetched.

“Suo suo!”
Perched atop the egg, Zorua raised a paw, as if trying to explain.

It wasn’t stolen! Zorua found it at the bottom of the lake. It was just doing a good deed!

“Found it?”

“Suo suo!”
Zorua nodded enthusiastically. It had sensed a familiar presence and followed it to investigate.

“What do you mean by a ‘familiar presence’?”

“Suo.”
You know, like someone I know!

Zorua scratched its head, struggling to articulate.

It had never been great at explaining things, and being asked to do so now felt awkward.

It was like asking Togepi to explain why it always demanded a “friendship fee” from its Lopunny senior—some things were just hard to put into words.

“Even after hearing that, I still don’t get it,” Natsume muttered, scratching his own head in frustration.

One was bad at explaining; the other was bad at understanding. Both sides found the conversation exhausting.

Finally, after some back-and-forth, they reached a conclusion:

“Forget it. Let’s not overthink it for now.”

Natsume decided to let it go.
The egg was here, so it was here.

“Just make sure you take care of it properly.”

He trusted Zorua enough to handle the responsibility.

“Suo suo!”

Zorua eagerly nodded. It was thrilled with this arrangement—no need to explain further!

While it didn’t particularly enjoy babysitting, playing with the egg was fun.

For now, Zorua lay atop the egg, wobbling back and forth like it was on a rocking horse.

“Alright, enough for today. Time to sleep,” Natsume said.

He retrieved Togepi’s old incubator, filled it with nutrient fluid, and carefully placed the egg inside.

Behind him, a large crowd of curious Pokémon gathered, all eager to see the mysterious egg.

“Tomorrow, I’ll need to buy more nutrient fluid... and some berries too.”

Looking at the egg soaking in the green fluid, Natsume began planning tomorrow’s errands.

With his schedule set, he slung an arm around the shiny Furret’s neck and dragged it upstairs like a giant sack of fluff.

The Furret, utterly spent from the day’s activities, didn’t resist—it was like a soft, furry pillow being dragged along.

Following them upstairs were Togepi, clutching its blanket, and Lopunny, carrying its pillow.

These two insisted on sleeping with Natsume every night.

Lopunny had its own pumpkin-shaped beanbag chair to sleep in, while Togepi and the shiny Furret always nestled in bed with Natsume.

At least, that was the current arrangement. Togepi might change its mind after evolving.

***************************
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Chapter Text

[Natsume’s Notebook]

October 24th

"It’s been a week since the two groups moved into the farm."

"They’ve more or less gotten used to it."

"The egg that Zorua picked up hasn’t shown any changes. Still the same."

"Spent the afternoon sunbathing with Furret. It was very warm."

October 25th

"This morning, Ogerpon stopped by to borrow a bottle of glue and some card stock."

"It looked very secretive. Didn’t say what it was doing, no matter how much I asked."

"Spent the afternoon sunbathing with Togepi. Still very warm."

October 26th

"The garden is in shambles. Should I try to get a Roselia or Florges to help out?"

"Although I can make flowers bloom myself, I’m hopeless at maintaining a garden."

"Spent the afternoon sunbathing with Persian. Today wasn’t as warm."

October 27th

"Nothing happened today. Spent time fishing by the lake with Lopunny using a homemade fishing rod."

"We didn’t catch much, but Air Cutter scooped up a Mudkip before leaving, so at least that counts as a catch."

"Clearly, fishing requires professional gear."

"But the gifts I’ve prepared for everyone on the farm are already on their way."

Closing the notebook, Natsume glanced at the budding garden, feeling a little conflicted.

Technically, the farm didn’t need a garden. But Natsume insisted on building one, taking care of most of it personally. Psychic powers made things much easier—occasionally using Verdant Force ensured the flowers bloomed brilliantly.

Even without tending to it, the garden easily surpassed what most people could achieve in years.

But that would be boring.

It had been less than half a year since Natsume took over the farm, but he already felt that the initial excitement was fading.

At first, there were so many things to do—fixing the house, tilling the fields, and countless other tasks that had to be done.

Now, there didn’t seem to be any pressing matters left, and life was slowing down.

If things continued like this, he felt he might age prematurely.

And that was absolutely unacceptable. He was barely 20!

Natsume refused to become someone who aged before their time.

“Mudkip.”

Mudkip, trotting along by Natsume’s feet, let out a little croak.

For the past few days, Mudkip had been sticking close to Natsume—not just to bond with him, but also to get extra snacks.

To the Pokémon on the farm, Natsume was like that kind relative you’d visit during the holidays, always ready to hand out candies and treats without you even asking.

If Slowpoke weren’t so lazy, Mudkip would have dragged it along too. Unfortunately, Slowpoke preferred lying by the lakeside, seemingly contemplating life.

Unlike other Slowpoke, this one had a very peculiar air.

In human terms… was it “wise in foolishness” or “foolish in wisdom”?

Mudkip didn’t quite understand. It was just a simple Mudkip, after all, and such profound concepts went over its head.

“Oh, the gift I promised you is on its way, so look forward to it,” Natsume said, patting Mudkip’s smooth head.

A while ago, Natsume conducted a small survey among the farm’s residents, asking what kind of gifts they’d like.

The responses varied widely.

Persian wanted a larger, sturdier scratching post.
Butterfree wanted a forced training device.

Natsume readily agreed to most of their requests. Even for Slowpoke, who couldn’t think of anything, Natsume prepared what he deemed fitting.

Of course, not all requests were accepted.

For example, Shiny Furret’s desire for a green bodysuit was immediately vetoed.

And then there was Corvisquire, who asked for a 1:1 replica of Frostmourne.

What was it planning, a coup?

Natsume gave them both a stern "fatherly glare."

In the end, under his watchful gaze, the two revised their choices to something more reasonable—though the gifts were still unmistakably their style.

The exact nature of their gifts? That would remain a surprise for now.

“Mudkip!”

Hearing that the gifts were arriving soon, Mudkip nuzzled against Natsume’s pant leg, expressing its affection and joy.

It wasn’t just the gifts—it was also because Natsume had promised to one day take Mudkip and its fellow refugees back to their homeland if the chance arose.

That promise meant a lot to them.

Just like humans, Pokémon carried a deep attachment to their homes, no matter where they went.

---

Meanwhile, deep in the forest where Mudkip once lived, a massive creature was moving with heavy steps, each one shaking the ground.

The once-thriving forest was now a desolate wasteland. Most of the Pokémon had fled, leaving behind only a few who refused to abandon their "home."

If this ruined land could still be called a home.

Fallen trees, dried-up water sources, and cracks etched across the ground.

A low, guttural roar echoed, like a proclamation of its presence—or a call to something.

The air trembled with the sound.

Through the gaps in the remaining trees, a faint glimmer of bronze could be seen—a massive cauldron inscribed with mysterious symbols.

It carried a weight of history, but also an unsettling aura that sent chills down one’s spine.

Normally, ancient relics like this would evoke awe or admiration for the craftsmanship and stories they held.

But this bronze cauldron only inspired revulsion, a primal urge to flee.

It was the kind of dread one might feel when encountering statues in the wilderness—where reverence gave way to fear.

“Roar…”

Amid the ruins, a pristine white figure glared at the colossus with eyes full of hatred.

Its crimson gaze reflected the image of the cauldron.

After a moment’s hesitation, the figure turned and left without hesitation, as if making a resolute decision.

It would return.

No matter what, it would return.

Chapter Text

On the farm's battle arena, Corvisquire was locked in combat with a Pokémon belonging to a young trainer from the nearby town.

After the initial buzz surrounding Natsume’s farm subsided, life gradually returned to its peaceful daily routine. Now, only a handful of trainers who had already planned to travel through this area stopped by for casual challenges and to restock their supply of Pokéblocks.

The farm’s Pokémon participated in battles purely out of interest. If they wanted to fight, they joined; if not, they stayed away. Most of the time, a Mightyena would inform Natsume if someone came to challenge, and Natsume would relay the message to Pokémon interested in participating.

The top three Pokémon with the most battles were the shiny Furret, Corvisquire, and Gardevoir.

Yes, Gardevoir often joined battles as well.

In contrast, her older brother Gallade wasn’t particularly fond of fighting—especially these seemingly meaningless skirmishes. If Gardevoir hadn’t joined the farm later than the others, she would likely hold the record for the most battles.

Additionally, after arriving on the farm, Gardevoir secretly picked up a trick from Zorua: the "Farmer’s Triple Punch." When faced with an opponent she didn’t like, she unleashed a seamless combo of status-reducing moves followed by a barrage of Fire Punch, Ice Punch, and Thunder Punch to grind down her opponent.

It was unclear if this devious streak was part of Gardevoir's personality or if she’d picked up bad habits from others on the farm. After all, the farm was home to many mischievous troublemakers.

Natsume wanted to claim they were all well-behaved, but even he couldn't say that with a straight face.

At the edge of the battle arena, Gardevoir was currently watching Corvisquire’s fight while accompanying her younger siblings. She originally planned to use the match to teach them battle strategies.

However, after a while, Gardevoir realized she might have made a mistake.

Why does this bird talk so much?!

“Caw, caw, caw!”

Corvisquire flapped through the air, chattering incessantly.

To the opposing Gloom, Corvisquire’s endless banter was more damaging than the physical attacks.

This was no longer a Pokémon battle—it was personal harassment!

Enduring the pain from its wounds, Gloom inhaled deeply, its mouth puffing up before firing a flurry of glowing seeds.

Bullet Seed!

The seeds, sharp and fast, shot at Corvisquire like a machine gun firing at an airplane.

Corvisquire dodged gracefully, carving elegant arcs in the air. At the same time, it unleashed multiple Air Slashes, each one slicing through the air toward Gloom.

Dark blue wings glowed as Corvisquire dived.

“Caw!”

Aerial Ace!

Cry for your weakness!

Laughing maniacally, Corvisquire rocketed toward Gloom like a firework. Its glowing wings slammed into Gloom’s face, leaving its already battered features further distorted.

The direct hit sent Gloom flying like a kicked ball, bouncing across the ground before it struggled to stand.

“I surrender!”

The young trainer, clearly worried, ran over to call off the fight.

Though he was concerned, he hesitated to step into the arena. Unlike Pokémon, humans couldn’t shrug off a few Air Slashes—they’d be in serious trouble.

Hearing the word "surrender," Corvisquire ended its assault and landed gracefully.

Strutting like a proud rooster, it tilted its head and gave Gloom a condescending sideways glance. Occasionally, it added a smug caw or two.

Its language was too offensive to translate, but Gardevoir was already regretting bringing her siblings to watch.

If any of them picked up these habits, Gardevoir might actually kill Corvisquire.

One of her younger siblings seemed particularly intrigued. Gardevoir quickly pressed her hand against the curious Ralts’s head.

“Garde!”

Don’t learn that! Forget everything you just saw!

“Ralts?”

But it seems really useful.

Ralts, chewing on her tiny hand, found the trash talk intriguing. Gloom had started off composed, but by the end, it had completely lost its cool.

This seemed like a skill worth mastering.

Ralts silently decided to practice in secret later.

Satisfied with Ralts's apparent compliance, Gardevoir finally relaxed—until commotion broke out behind her.

Turning around, Gardevoir saw Corvisquire enveloped in a dazzling white light.

“Garde?!”

Now? Of all times?!

Panicked, Gardevoir teleported to find Natsume.

After quickly explaining the situation—though it sounded more like “wa-wa-wa”—she grabbed Natsume’s hand and teleported them both back.

“What’s going on?”

Still holding a box of supplies, Natsume barely had time to react before being teleported to the battlefield.

The sight of Corvisquire glowing with evolution energy immediately made the situation clear.

“Oh, so Corvisquire’s evolving.”

Setting the box aside, Natsume walked over.

Even in the middle of its evolution—one of the most critical moments of its life—Corvisquire couldn’t keep quiet, endlessly spewing its signature trash talk.

If its current power level had been higher, it might’ve already declared something outrageous like, "I reign supreme across time!"

When the light faded, Corviknight stood proudly before Natsume.

Its indigo-blue body gleamed with a metallic sheen, each feather resembling finely forged steel. It looked like a majestic knight clad in armor, exuding strength and authority.

Corviknight lifted its head high, its gaze embodying the aloofness of a tyrant—part disdain, part smugness, part mockery, and a small hint of…

…panic.

Darn it! I didn’t expect to evolve so soon!

Corviknight had planned a dramatic line for this moment, but now it couldn’t decide which one to use.

"From this day forth, I shall soar above the heavens!"?

Or maybe… "I am the God of a new world!"

Shoot, this was harder than expected.

For the first time, Corviknight felt sweat dripping down its steel feathers.

***************************
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Chapter Text

"Congratulations, Corviknight."

As Natsume approached the silent and brooding Corviknight, he couldn't help but crane his neck higher with every step.

This guy's height was... a bit beyond expectations.

Looking up at Corviknight, Natsume couldn't stop thinking: This kid's growth spurt must have been off the charts.

A typical Corviknight stood about 2.2 meters tall and weighed around 75 kilograms—a towering and imposing figure.

At over two meters tall and with a weight of 150 kilograms, Corviknight's proportions might seem lean on a human, but for a bird Pokémon, it was... acceptable?

Still, Natsume's Corviknight had clearly gone above and beyond.

Its height easily exceeded 2.5 meters, and while they hadn't measured its weight yet, judging by its appetite, it was definitely not light.

"CAW!"

Corviknight spread its wings, fidgeting as it tried to adjust to its new body.

It was clearly uncomfortable with its evolved form—whether it was the steel-like feathers or the suddenly massive frame, everything felt unfamiliar.

Adding to its woes, the increased size and weight had noticeably slowed it down.

For Corviknight, its next tasks were clear:
One, adapt to its evolved body.
Two, refine its battle strategy to suit its new physique.

Fortunately, Corviknight didn’t need to stress much about the latter.

From the moment he captured it, Natsume had already planned out a fighting style tailored to Corviknight.

It revolved around two core moves: Iron Defense and Body Press.

One raised its defense, while the other dealt greater damage the higher its defense was.

Combined with Corviknight's size and weight, these moves were a perfect match.

Simple, efficient, and—most importantly—it left plenty of time for Corviknight to spout trash talk.

Corviknight was overjoyed.

"Alright, time to head back."

Natsume reached out, intending to pat Corviknight's head. But after a few failed attempts to reach the top of its head, he settled for tapping its forehead instead.

Corviknight, realizing this, lowered its head slightly so Natsume could pat it properly, then eagerly nodded its massive head, signaling its hunger.

Even though Pokémon biology often defied logic, certain basic rules still applied.

The sudden growth from evolution had drained Corviknight's energy, leaving it ravenously hungry.

It felt like the time Natsume had skipped dinner and breakfast while binge-watching a show—so hungry he’d almost eaten the soap in the bathroom.

Right now, all Corviknight wanted was a hearty meal and a good nap.

Adjusting to its new body? That could wait. It had already done enough for the day.

Corviknight, now resembling an oversized terrestrial chicken, awkwardly followed Natsume back to the farm.

It flapped its wings experimentally a few times but quickly gave up on flying, opting to walk instead.

Though it was trying to maintain its pride, the sight of the massive bird plodding along on foot was undeniably comical.

If it clucked while walking, it’d be the perfect image of a giant free-range chicken.

Despite the amusing display, Corviknight held its head high, refusing to bow its proud neck—reminiscent of the haughty air of the Uchiha clan.

Its majestic, armored exterior clashed with its cheeky demeanor, creating an odd mix of grandeur and mischief.

Anyone watching would be tempted to land a punch on its smug face.

As Corviknight strutted behind Natsume, it looked like a king parading in his new robes, showing off its evolved form with no small amount of pride.

“This is it,” Corviknight thought, admiring its reflection in a puddle. “From now on, I’ll be the farm’s poster Pokémon and undisputed top-tier looker.”

While most of the Pokémon on the farm merely glanced at Corviknight's new form before losing interest, one Pokémon was visibly stunned.

"Pi—!"

The shiny Pidgeotto, who had been strolling around the farm with a group of the flock's most beautiful female members, froze in its tracks.

As the flock's leader, the shiny Pidgeotto naturally enjoyed certain privileges. What was wrong with taking a few ladies out for a walk? It wasn’t like it was neglecting its duties.

But the sight of Corviknight brought its good mood to an abrupt halt.

We're both birds—you’re a crow, and I’m a sparrow. Why is the size gap so huge?!

To most Pokémon, bigger was better. Large Pokémon were seen as stronger and more desirable.

And in that moment, shiny Pidgeotto couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy toward Corviknight's massive frame.

It even fantasized about swapping Corviknight’s protein powder with something less effective—if it had access to such things.

"Pi!"

Shiny Pidgeotto fluttered down in front of Corviknight, curiously and somewhat enviously asking how it got so big.

In response, Corviknight proudly declared, “Through hard work and effort! And, well... Natsume’s feeding.”

The shiny Pidgeotto ignored the boastful first part, focusing instead on the latter.

So, it all comes down to Natsume, huh?

Previously, the shiny Pidgeotto had been content to simply enjoy its food and lead the flock. Building a closer relationship with the farm’s owner hadn’t seemed necessary.

It had its pride, after all. Fawning over Natsume felt beneath it.

But now, looking at Corviknight’s imposing form, the shiny Pidgeotto realized:

Maybe lowering my head a little isn’t so bad.

It’s not about sucking up; it’s about becoming stronger and bigger. Yeah, that’s it.

After all, who could resist the allure of becoming bigger and better?

And by “big,” of course, it meant something impressive. Like a Gundam.

***************************
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Chapter Text

What the Shiny Pidgeotto was pondering could wait. At the moment, Natsume was busy setting up a new nest for Corviknight.

Previously, Corviknight had been living in a second-floor room but sometimes slept in a rooftop nest. Back then, sleeping outside was more about enjoying the night breeze and indulging in its dramatic fantasies. Under the deep night sky, it would imagine itself as a being of immense power with a tragic past, lamenting how the world was fundamentally flawed.

Of course, the details of these tragic backstories were updated every few days, depending on the anime it had recently watched.

But now, Corviknight had no choice but to live outside.

At its current height, getting through a door was almost impossible. Even if they widened the doorway, there wasn’t a suitable room where Corviknight could comfortably live.

Looks like the plan to build a breeding facility with simulated natural environments needed to be prioritized.

“Caw, caw!”

Can we put a cushion over there? Corviknight voiced its opinion about the new nest, offering suggestions about its placement and size.

Since the nest was being set in a new location, Natsume enlisted Gardevoir’s help.

As for Gallade?

Natsume had sent it to watch over the flock of Mareep. Until Yamper could fully assume the role of a herding Pokémon, Gallade’s assistance was essential.

Gallade had no complaints about the arrangement. It could relax in the sun and avoid being on the receiving end of its sister’s deathly stares for idling about.

“What a life,” Gallade mused contentedly.

With Gardevoir’s help, Corviknight’s new nest was soon completed.

Corviknight wasn’t entirely satisfied with it, though. If possible, it wanted to decorate its nest with some game and anime merchandise.

Unfortunately, it was broke.

It was infuriating! How could the farm’s dialogue coach, ambassador, and sole airborne combat unit not even afford a figurine?

This put it at a natural disadvantage during online arguments. It desperately needed to earn some money to buy those collectibles.

But, on this farm, there didn’t seem to be many opportunities to make that happen.

Corviknight fell into deep thought.

---

That night, Natsume lay in bed, leaning against his Shiny Furret while texting. His conversation partner had an avatar of a Servine and was listed as Mei in his contacts.

[Mei]: Corviknight looks huge after its evolution!

[Natsume]: It eats a lot. Sometimes it even cons other Pokémon into giving up their Pokéblocks.

Before Mei left, they had exchanged contact information and would occasionally chat.

At first, their conversations were formal, mainly discussing Pokéblocks. Natsume would ask about Mei’s experiences using them, and Mei would share her feedback, including details about flavor and texture.

Over time, their discussions extended to life on the farm. Natsume would send Mei photos, and she would kindly respond with positive comments.

Gradually, Mei began to open up, sharing stories from her travels, the Pokémon and people she met, her thoughts on battles, and her future plans.

The two had grown quite familiar with each other.

Though not to the point of complete transparency, they both had a well-rounded understanding of one another, evolving from a surface-level impression to something far more vivid and personal.

[Mei]: Your farm feels livelier every day. That’s so nice!

In her room at the Pokémon Center, Mei sat at the bedside in loose pajamas, towel-drying her damp hair. Behind her, Servine climbed onto the bed with a hair dryer in its vines, preparing to dry her hair properly.

After Mei caught it, Servine had taken over the task of hair drying. Though Mei owned a Tepig, its personality made it ill-suited for such work—it might accidentally singe her hair.

So, Servine handled the job, even more adept now that its vines had grown longer and more agile after evolving.

As Mei scrolled through the photos Natsume had sent, her eyes sparkled with a hint of envy.

Life on the farm seemed so wonderful, surrounded by adorable Pokémon every day.

“If only I could live on a farm too,” she murmured to herself.

Then again, the workload might be overwhelming for her.

“Still, Natsume is amazing,” Mei said softly.

Managing the farm seemed exhausting even in her imagination. While she loved the idea of a peaceful and relaxing life, running a farm required an entirely different level of effort.

It reminded her of a saying:

“Occasionally visiting the countryside feels romantic, but for those living there, it’s all about the harvest.”

Mei felt that Natsume was incredible. Despite being her age, he had transformed an abandoned farm into what it was today.

Even his skills as a trainer seemed on par with, if not better than, a city gym leader’s.

Whether in terms of work ethic or strength, Natsume truly impressed her.

The phone chimed, and a new message popped up.

[Natsume]: Come visit when you have time.

[Natsume]: Oh, and bring back Bounsweet. The group here misses it.

Reading the message, Mei smiled faintly.

[Mei]: Sure! But will you give me a discount on Pokéblocks?

[Natsume]: I’ll try?

[Mei]: Why does that sound uncertain?

[Natsume]: It’s a long story. Hard to explain over text.

[Mei]: Then don’t bother explaining, thanks.

[Natsume]: (Psyduck tilting head)

[Mei]: Stop stealing my reaction images!

In the quiet night, the glow of their phones illuminated two smiling faces in separate places.

Chapter Text

Early in the morning, Natsume woke naturally from his sleep and stretched lazily before climbing out of bed. His hair was a chaotic mess, resembling a bird's nest.

Since taking over the farm, the biggest change in Natsume’s lifestyle was that he no longer needed an alarm clock.

Every day, he could sleep as long as he wanted, with no worries about oversleeping. He could go to bed whenever he liked at night without needing to fret about being too tired the next morning.

Work and school? Those didn’t matter anymore. The only priority was sleeping comfortably.

“Somehow, we ended up chatting until late,” he murmured. “I hope Mei didn’t oversleep.”

Looking at the last message on his phone—“Goodnight” sent at 1:30 AM—Natsume felt a tinge of concern.

If he hadn’t noticed how late it was and stopped their conversation, they could have easily chatted for another hour or two.

Normally, Natsume wouldn’t mind extending the conversation. After all, who would turn down the chance to chat with a like-minded, beautiful girl?

But Mei had mentioned that she was planning to challenge a gym today, so she had to wake up early.

Unlike in anime where gym challenges could happen at any time, real-life Pokémon gyms operated quite differently.

Apart from the standard 18 type gyms, every major city had its own provincial and municipal gyms. However, the number of gyms wasn’t enough to meet the overwhelming demand from trainers.

Most gyms required challengers to book an appointment on their official website. Depending on the number of challengers, the wait time could extend to one or two weeks.

Missing an appointment was a hassle.

“But it should be fine, right? Mei’s Servine is reliable enough to keep her on track.”

Although Mei could be a little absentminded at times, her Servine was a dependable and composed presence in her team.

Most trainers had at least one Pokémon in their party that acted like a responsible parent—or perhaps a nurturing mother.

These Pokémon were typically among the strongest in the team, with keen minds and the ability to maintain harmony among the rest of the group.

They also tended to look after their trainers.

This dynamic was especially noticeable in teams belonging to less reliable trainers.

Mei’s Servine and Natsume’s Persian played these roles well.

However, while Servine had to balance its duties as Mei’s caretaker and oversee the recently captured Bounsweet, Persian had it relatively easy.

Compared to Servine’s meticulous work, Persian mostly focused on disciplining new and unruly Pokémon by smacking them into line.

“Lopunny!”

The door creaked open, and a Lopunny wearing an apron walked in, carrying a fresh set of clothes for Natsume.

After slipping into his usual black jacket, white T-shirt, and black trousers, Natsume was ready to start another day.

Meanwhile, his shiny Furret, who shared his bed every night, had long since started its morning routine.

If Natsume stood by the window now, he’d see the shiny Furret leading a whole gang of Furret in a chaotic charge.

The shiny Furret had become the unchallenged ruler of the farm, with sheer numbers to back its dominance.

While only the shiny one could actually fight, there were so many Furret that it didn’t matter.

They were second only to the farm’s many Grass-type Pokémon in numbers.

Given that it was a farm, it naturally attracted a wide variety of Bug- and Grass-type Pokémon.

Fortunately, the shiny Furret was well-behaved and kept its gang in check, so no major conflicts had broken out.

“Caw!”

Ah! The sun shines upon my majestic form!

Ah! Praise the sun!

On the rooftop, Corviknight spread its wings, basking in the morning sunlight.

Its dark feathers gleamed like polished metal in the light, making it look less like a living Pokémon and more like a finely crafted statue.

After a while, it sighed softly.

Being invincible is so lonely.

Although it hadn’t yet issued its 78th challenge to Persian, based on its experience of losing 77 times, Corviknight felt optimistic.

I may not have won yet, but I’m a three-stage evolution Pokémon, and Persian’s only a two-stage! I’m still young—the odds are in my favor!

The previous night, unable to sleep after its evolution, Corviknight had scoured the internet for information about itself.

While many claimed that Corviknight was just a “utility bird” rarely used as a Champion’s main fighter, Corviknight proudly declared:

You’re right, but that’s the beauty of Corviknight! With a base stat total of 495, 98 HP, and 105 Special Defense, I can take hits!

With a Hidden Ability, Protect, Iron Defense, and Brave Bird, plus Gigantamax potential, I’m unstoppable!

Flying/Steel typing? No quadruple weaknesses, only two doubles! Four double resistances and five singles, including Dragon and Psychic!

Immunity to Poison and Ground? Yes, please.

Of course, when it came to actual battles... AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!

The previous night, Corviknight had gotten into an online argument and became so worked up that its screams woke up Persian, who promptly beat it into submission.

Even Gardevoir had to set up a psychic barrier to prevent the noise from disturbing Natsume.

When Persian learned of this, it hit even harder.

Still, Corviknight refused to count this as its 78th loss, insisting it was an unfair sneak attack.

As a frequent visitor to online forums, Corviknight often borrowed strategies and tactics from other users to try in battles—with some success.

Most Pokémon who battled Corviknight ended up at least slightly “tilted.”

“Morning, Corviknight! You seem lively today,” Natsume called out from the window.

From his angle, all he could see was Corviknight’s slightly round belly.

Lately, it seemed to be eating a bit too much.

“I might need to find more things to keep you occupied,” Natsume mused, eyeing Corviknight thoughtfully.

“Caw!”

Good morning, boss! Today’s another great day!

Corviknight’s cold, aloof demeanor vanished as it chirped enthusiastically, its dark face suddenly looking rather ingratiating.

It wasn’t afraid to push back against Persian, but it couldn’t afford to upset Natsume—what if he cut its food rations?

“So, how about entering a tournament?” Natsume suddenly asked.

“Caw?”

“Lop?”

Corviknight, basking in the sun, and Lopunny, tidying the room, both blinked in confusion.

Had they misheard?

***************************
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Chapter Text

On the farm, those Pokémon close to Natsume were well aware that his interest in participating in competitions had always been minimal.

Becoming a professional trainer to gain fame and fortune? That idea held zero appeal for Natsume.

After all, he had already achieved financial independence. He could wake up whenever he wanted, sleep whenever he pleased, and live life exactly as he liked.

Becoming a professional trainer? That sounded neither interesting nor meaningful to him.

For this reason, Natsume had never been particularly inclined toward competitions.

And, well...

If you lot can’t even beat me, what makes you think you’d fare better in a competition? (crossed out in his mind).

Comparing ordinary Pokémon to a Hisuian superhuman like Natsume felt a bit unfair.

“Why do you look so surprised?”

“You’re acting as if I’ve said something unthinkable.”

Looking at the incredulous expressions on Lopunny and Corviknight’s faces, Natsume chuckled softly.

“I’ve actually thought about this quite seriously.”

It probably started when his shiny Furret began its rigorous training. Natsume had realized that many of the Pokémon on his farm had a strong desire for battle.

There were peaceful Pokémon, but there were also those who craved combat.

Taking them out occasionally to participate in some matches wouldn’t be a bad idea.

It would serve as a change of pace for both him and the Pokémon on the farm.

That said, Natsume had no intention of entering highly competitive formal tournaments.

Such competitions required not just the Pokémon’s and trainer’s on-the-spot performance but also meticulous preparation beforehand—researching opponents, devising strategies, deciding the battle order, and analyzing attributes and movesets.

And if things didn’t go according to plan, you’d need contingency strategies.

All of it sounded like way too much effort.

Instead, Natsume preferred the straightforward overpowering force approach.

However, he wasn’t yet at the level where he could crush all trainers with ease.

Since he lacked the power to dominate effortlessly, there was no point in aiming for world champion titles or the like.

Natsume disliked the feeling of failure.

If he attempted something, he wanted to succeed. The idea of failing and just brushing it off with a “better luck next time” didn’t sit well with him.

Perhaps it was a bit of cowardice or double standards, but Natsume was perfectly fine with that.

The frustration and reflection that came with failure? Totally unnecessary, in his opinion.

“Loo.”

After listening to Natsume’s reasoning, Lopunny nodded in understanding.

It shared his distaste for failure.

For wild Pokémon, failure often meant death—failing to find food meant starvation; failing to hide meant being hunted; failing to escape meant death.

Even after living on the farm for a long time, that instinct to avoid failure was ingrained in its very being.

By not attempting risky endeavors, you eliminate the chance of failure entirely.

Lopunny wholeheartedly agreed with Natsume’s philosophy.

“Caw!”

From the rooftop, Corviknight also voiced its approval.

After hearing Natsume’s plan, it picked up on two key words: easy wins.

Say no more—this was right up its alley!

Corviknight was a master at defeating weaker opponents. With its simple yet effective strategy of combining Iron Defense and Brave Bird, it was a nightmare for Pokémon less powerful than itself.

Opponents couldn’t break through its defense, while its retaliatory strike could strip them of their dignity.

“Lopunny, are you going?”

“Loo.”

Lopunny shook its head, expressing no interest in battles. It was perfectly content with a peaceful life on the farm, occasionally entertaining itself with a smartphone.

Yes, Natsume had bought phones for many of his Pokémon.

Pokémon like Lopunny and Zorua were particularly fond of them.

Corviknight, on the other hand, was a full-blown internet addict.

If not for its physical structure being ill-suited for esports, it would’ve considered going pro. After all, it believed it was far superior to the incompetent players it saw online, whose absurdly bad gameplay made them seem almost inhuman.

Back to the matter at hand.

“Though I’m thinking about entering competitions, it’s not happening anytime soon.”

Natsume chuckled as he patted Lopunny on the head.

For now, it was just an idea.

Of course, he did intend to participate eventually.

First, he needed to decide which Pokémon to bring along, and second, he had to select an appropriate competition.

His plan was to start with a small-town or county-level tournament—essentially, starting in a small pond to build confidence.

Once he gained some momentum, he could consider bigger competitions.

“Loo.”

Lopunny nodded before hopping off to handle some chores.

Usually, Minccino was in charge of cleaning. It enjoyed housekeeping and initially took on the role because it couldn’t stand Natsume’s habit of stuffing clothes haphazardly into his wardrobe.

After kicking him in disapproval, it began tidying things itself.

In short, Natsume had been deemed unworthy.

As a single guy living alone, he couldn’t be expected to meet high standards. In his mind, he was already doing his best.

But nowadays, Lopunny had taken over many of the household chores.

For some reason, seeing Lopunny “stealing” Minccino’s job made Natsume think of certain fantasy novel concepts.

For instance, how a divine being of fertility might carve out a fragment of authority from another deity’s domain.

Perhaps Lopunny had “claimed” a portion of Minccino’s housekeeping authority?

The sudden shift in tone felt oddly jarring, almost surreal.

“Oh, right. Make sure Minccino tidies up the living room.”

“The gifts for everyone will arrive soon.”

“When they do, I’ll need everyone’s help to sort them out. Corviknight, don’t think you can slack off.”

As if remembering something, Natsume called out to Lopunny as it headed out.

“Loo loo.”

Lopunny nodded and hopped away.

Hearing the word gifts, Corviknight’s eyes lit up.

A present!

When it arrived, it would make sure to stand out and leave everyone in awe!

Its usually stoic bird face was now filled with uncharacteristic anticipation and delight.

For a creature with such a majestic appearance, its demeanor often felt like a waste of its good looks.

Chapter Text

When do people usually feel like they've grown up?
Graduation? Falling in love? Or the first time they receive a paycheck after starting work?

For Natsume, the first time he realized he’d grown up was when he noticed that the older sisters and aunts in those easily captivating "big truck crushing little pony" stories were now younger than him.

In that moment, he didn’t just feel like he’d grown up—he felt old.

Nowadays, Natsume’s realization of maturity often came with the need to keep certain things private. Not everything could be shared so openly.
And with that, he felt like he’d grown just a little more.
Though he also felt a little more exhausted.

Right now, several Pokémon were gathered in front of him, all staring at him with expectant eyes.

It hadn’t even been half an hour since the idea of entering battles with his Pokémon first occurred to Natsume, but already the entire farm knew about it.

“That big-mouthed Corviknight.”

When it came to spreading information, Corviknight was practically on par with the neighborhood gossip crew. The bird had single-handedly spread the news far and wide—impressively, without even exaggerating it.
“Should I actually praise it for not twisting the facts?”

Covering his face, Natsume wasn’t sure whether to be angry or amused.
Though he’d intended to share the news with everyone eventually, the sudden reveal still caught him off guard.

Now, gathered in front of him were not only Pokémon genuinely interested in battling but also a few with their own ulterior motives.

There was the diligent, battle-loving shiny Furret; Gardevoir, eager to prove her worth; Gallade, dragged along by Gardevoir; the shiny Pidgeotto, hoping to curry favor with Natsume for extra Pokéblocks; and a curious Mudkip, who didn’t seem to understand much but wanted to join in anyway.

And, of course, Zorua—here to stir up trouble—and Corviknight, looking guilty but still reporting for duty.

Faced with their eager eyes, Natsume sighed and said:
“Don’t get too excited. We’re not entering any battles just yet.”
“If you’re interested, let me know. When the time comes, I’ll make sure to tell everyone.”

Once he finished speaking, the gathered Pokémon muttered among themselves before dispersing.
But not before each of them brushed against Natsume, one after another, as though marking him—or maybe just being affectionate.

“You look like you’re having a great time watching the show, don’t you?”

Natsume grabbed Zorua by the scruff of the neck just as the mischievous Pokémon was about to sneak away after giving him a playful nuzzle.

With Corviknight still adjusting to its evolved form and unable to fly smoothly, Natsume doubted it could have spread the news so quickly without help.
He was sure Zorua had played a part.

“Zor?”

Tilting its head and sticking out its tongue, Zorua gave him an innocent look.
What are you talking about? I don’t understand a thing! I’m just a sweet, innocent little fox, incapable of such schemes!

“You, my little troublemaker, might have what it takes to become a follower of Aha.”

Natsume ruffled Zorua’s fur until it was a complete mess, then casually tossed the Pokémon aside as if it were a cat.

Zorua landed nimbly, twisting in midair to execute a perfect landing.

Anyone who’s ever had a cat would recognize this move. After playing with their cat, they’d often toss it gently to the floor, knowing the cat would land just fine.

But dogs? That’s a different story. A dog would face-plant in a disaster of flailing limbs.

A word of advice to anyone with both cats and dogs: be careful.
A cat might forgive you after a treat, but a dog? You’ll be footing some hefty vet bills.

“Zor.”

Shaking its head, Zorua shot Natsume a sassy go eat dirt look before scampering off, its short legs moving in a zigzag to avoid any further attacks.

Just as Natsume’s foot swung toward its retreating backside, Zorua dodged with precision, leaving his kick to hit empty air.
Its quick reflexes saved its butt from disaster.

You think you can kick me? Dream on, buddy. Go eat dirt back there!

With its zigzagging “serpentine” moves, Zorua quickly disappeared from sight. Perhaps it was off to its favorite sunbathing spot—or maybe looking for other Pokémon to scam with its usual spiel:

“Listen, I’m not saying you’re bad, but your technique needs work. Give me some Pokéblocks, and I’ll teach you a thing or two.”

Despite sounding like a con artist, Zorua was undoubtedly skilled. Many Pokémon on the farm willingly offered up their Pokéblocks in exchange for its advice.

Skipping a few treats was no big deal—they could always try other flavors later.
But the chance to improve their skills? That was priceless.

Because if you missed the opportunity to grow stronger, you might just end up... lying around.

And there’s nothing more infuriating than watching someone laze about happily while you struggle.

It’s like when people say:
I’m not jealous if you have a girlfriend. I’m fine on my own.
I’m not jealous if you’re rich. I’m getting by just fine.
I’m not jealous if you’re successful. Some people are just destined for greatness.

But if you’re lying around carefree while I’m struggling?
Now I’m jealous, you jerk!

“This little rascal…”

Watching Zorua disappear, Natsume sighed in exasperation.
It was a great Pokémon—just a bit too mischievous.

“Let’s go, Corviknight. Help me move these boxes.”

Natsume gave Corviknight a kick, nudging it forward as he picked up a box of miscellaneous items.

“You talk too much, so now you’ve got work to do.”

“Caw!”

I’m on it, boss!

The oversized bird hopped along behind Natsume, looking like a wind-up toy as it waddled forward with its peculiar, bobbing gait.

“Caw?”

So, what are we doing now?

“To pick up the gifts. Your figurine has arrived.”

“Caw!”

Gifts!

At the word “gifts,” Corviknight’s excitement surged. It instinctively spread its wings—only to knock over the box in Natsume’s hands, almost toppling him in the process.

Turning stiffly to look at the mess it had caused, Corviknight froze, realizing its mistake.

Well, looks like I’m getting scolded again today.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

“Done.”

In the living room, Natsume straightened his back after setting down a pile of boxes on the floor, casually wiping away imaginary sweat from his forehead.

Behind him trailed Corviknight, who had its neck tucked low, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. It was still reeling from the thorough scolding it had just received for its earlier carelessness.

If it had been another Pokémon doing the scolding—say, even Persian—it might have tried to fight back, though such resistance would likely end in a comically tragic defeat.

But against Natsume?
Sorry, there’s no chance.

Any attempt to rebel would only invite harsher punishment.
For instance, having its supply of Pokéblocks confiscated—a consequence Corviknight absolutely couldn’t bear.
Anything else, though? It could manage.

“Go call everyone over. It’s time to hand out gifts,” Natsume said, glancing at the sulking bird.

With Corviknight, it was hard for Natsume to maintain his usual calm demeanor.

When it was younger and freshly caught, it had seemed like a normal, reliable Pokémon.
But somewhere along the way, it had started to grow crooked, walking further down the path of chaos with each passing day.

Sometimes Natsume wondered if, should Corviknight ever become famous, it would need a fitting title.
How about "Warhawk"?
It felt appropriate on multiple levels.

“Caw-caw!!”

The moment it received its orders, Corviknight transformed from its previous timid state, puffing out its chest and energetically flapping its wings before bolting out the door.

As it dashed outside, Corviknight began a running takeoff, flapping its wings with great effort. After several attempts, it finally managed to get airborne.

Its awkward, flapping gait before liftoff made it look more like a village goose than a majestic bird Pokémon.

If only its combat ability could match that of a feisty goose.
Or at least, it could work on fixing its personality.

With that thought, Natsume sighed deeply.
I’m starting to sound more and more like a nagging parent.

“Furrr!”

Not long after Corviknight’s departure, a flash of pink bolted toward the house, stopping dramatically at the doorway with a quick tail flick before trotting inside on excited little steps.

“Furret!”

Without hesitation, the shiny Furret leapt into Natsume’s arms, nuzzling and squirming as if to demand attention before its gaze shifted to the pile of boxes on the floor.

“Fur?”

Is there a gift for me in there?

Its sparkling eyes and the wagging of its fluffy tail made it almost impossible for anyone to refuse.

Even if there weren’t a gift prepared, anyone on the receiving end of this kind of look would feel compelled to rush out and get one immediately.

“Of course there is.”
“Here, this one’s for you.”

Natsume retrieved a small gift box from the pile and handed it to Furret, motioning for it to open it up.

Instead of unwrapping the gift himself, Natsume preferred to let his Pokémon experience the joy of opening their own presents.
Even though he personally found opening packages tedious, he had read online that many people found it oddly satisfying.

Maybe the farm’s Pokémon would enjoy the experience, too.
Or maybe not. Who knew?

“Furret!”

Furret eagerly took the box in its little pink paws, rubbing against Natsume one last time before setting to work on the wrapping.

When the packaging came off, the gift inside was revealed: a peculiar item resembling a restraint device.
(Some enthusiasts with unique tastes might have been especially thrilled—crossed out, moving on.)

Next to the device was a small white card that read:
[Power Bracer]
A hard and heavy training tool. While it reduces speed, it significantly enhances growth during training.

This was the gift Furret had been yearning for.

Initially, it had wanted a green bodysuit as a tribute to its idol—the "Green Beast of the Konoha," a certain watermelon-haired ninja with dazzling white teeth.

That idea, however, had been vetoed by Natsume almost instantly.

After much deliberation, Furret had settled on a tool that could improve its training results, leading Natsume to select the Power Bracer after careful consideration.

Unlike ordinary weights, this special item offered noticeable results.
The exact mechanics behind it were beyond Natsume’s understanding, but as he wasn’t a researcher, he didn’t feel the need to dig too deep.

Furret, however, was thrilled.
Not only would it help with training, but—it was green.
In a way, it still honored its idol.

Wearing the Power Bracer, Furret couldn’t wait to start training.
“My youth will not allow me to slack off here!”

Radiating a fiery determination, the shiny Furret dashed outside, ready to embrace its rigorous training regimen.

After Furret left, other Pokémon from the farm began arriving one after another.

“Calm down, calm down—one at a time,” Natsume said, trying to reassure the crowd while sifting through the pile of gifts.
“Everyone will get something.”

He handed out each gift like a diligent deliveryman:
“Here you go, Persian—your catnip chew stick and silk scarf.”

“Lopunny, here’s your full grooming kit. It’s highly rated online.”

“Sandslash, this is for you.
Aside from the seeds you wanted, I also got you some Stardust. Hope you like it.”

One by one, Natsume distributed the gifts. While not all of them were rare or extravagant, each one had been chosen with care to suit the recipient’s preferences.

After all, most of these gifts had been decided upon after in-depth discussions with his Pokémon, like Lopunny’s grooming kit.
It was something it had seen online recently and had been longing for, so Natsume made sure to get it.

The same went for Persian’s silk scarf.
(The catnip chew stick, however, was Natsume’s idea. He was curious to see how Persian would react to an item supposedly irresistible to cats.)

For now, Persian seemed indifferent, but who knew?
Perhaps it would secretly play with the chew stick in private, embracing its inner playful kitten.

After a while, nearly all the gifts had been handed out, but a few boxes remained.

“Hmm, still a few left...”
Natsume frowned, deep in thought.

Some of these were deliberately set aside for later use.
Others were for Pokémon who hadn’t shown up to claim them yet.

Chapter Text

Sitting cross-legged on the ground, Natsume casually sorted through the remaining packages.

Aside from the regular gifts he had prepared, most of what was left were little surprises he’d put together.

For example, the Shiny Stone he bought for Minccino.

If Minccino wanted to evolve, it would need a Shiny Stone; otherwise, it would remain a Minccino forever, regardless of its strength.

It’s like how WarGreymon needs MetalGarurumon to become Omnimon. No matter how hard it tries, it would only remain WarGreymon.

Of course, there’s also the possibility of becoming VictoryGreymon.

Apart from Minccino, he had also prepared gifts for other Pokémon.

Some might ask: wouldn’t those Pokémon who didn’t receive special gifts feel unbalanced or upset?

Well, there’s no helping it.

Natsume could only strive to treat his closest Pokémon fairly.

Anyone with two kids or even just one cat at home could relate to this.

Even if you aim to treat both children equally, a little favoritism is inevitable.

After all, humans aren’t machines; it’s impossible to divide love or care perfectly into equal portions.

If any of his Pokémon did feel unhappy, Natsume would just have to make it up to them later.

As for Pokémon he wasn’t particularly close to, like the Oddish on the farm that he rarely interacted with?

Natsume naturally wouldn’t prepare gifts for them.

A head rub and a couple of Pokéblocks during a walk would be more than enough.

He wasn’t some overly generous tycoon handing out evolutionary stones and rare items to every Pokémon he met.

Even if he had the money, he wouldn’t spend it like that.

Or rather, maybe he wasn’t wealthy enough yet—compared to an oil baron, anyway.

“These can wait; no rush to deliver them now,” Natsume said. “First, I need to check on Ogerpon.”

After packing up the remaining gifts, he called Persian over to watch them, intending to take a few Pokémon to look for Ogerpon.

He wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving the packages with just any Pokémon.

It wasn’t that he worried they’d steal anything but rather that they might give in to the persistent pleading of other Pokémon and sneak a peek at the gifts.

Like kids with new toys, who often can’t resist opening them before they get home.

But if Persian was in charge, Natsume had complete peace of mind.

Every team needs someone to play the “bad guy”—someone who can step in when necessary to refuse unreasonable demands.

It sounds simple, but not everyone can do it.

If someone you’re close to tugs at your sleeve and begs for a small, seemingly insignificant favor, would you refuse?

Most people find it difficult.

But Persian could.

Not only could it refuse, but if Corviknight came over and started pestering, Persian might even throw in a Power Gem to teach that fool a lesson—let it experience the might of the farm’s second-in-command.

Hmm…

Something about that sounded off.

Let’s go with “vice leader” instead.

“I’ll leave these here for now,” Natsume said as he shoved the unopened packages into Persian’s nest under its disapproving gaze.

“You didn’t even ask me!”

Persian opened its mouth as if to meow a complaint but ultimately let it go.

It rarely said no to Natsume anyway.

And so, with its tail flicking in resignation, Persian decided to find another sunny spot to nap in, leaving the pile of gifts behind.

“Next up, let’s find Ogerpon.”

Scratching his head, Natsume pondered which Pokémon to bring along.

According to Zorua, Ogerpon’s little hideout was quite a distance from the farm.

There was also a path leading to a water source nearby, where wild Pokémon occasionally passed through—some of them even aggressive.

So Natsume figured he’d better bring two Pokémon with him, just in case.

If some battle-hungry wild Pokémon or Trainer challenged him to a fight, he couldn’t exactly yell, “I choose you, Natsumemon!” and jump in to brawl with them himself.

That would be a bit much, no?

Although those Trainers who lock eyes and immediately demand a battle aren’t exactly calm either.

“Who should I bring?”

Muttering to himself, Natsume absently toyed with Persian’s tail. When he turned around, he found a large black figure blocking the doorway.

With its back to Natsume, Corviknight had been silently crouching there, waiting for him to notice.

Wow, what a floorboard this floorboard is, thought Corviknight, deeply focused on the step below.

It stared intently, as if studying the patterns on the doorstep. What was so fascinating about that step?

After watching the back of Corviknight’s head for a few seconds, Natsume seemed to understand.

“This time, I’ll need a mature and steady Pokémon,” he said loudly, ensuring Corviknight could hear.

The bird remained motionless, only shifting its gaze.

Hmm, what lovely grass this grass is.

“Preferably one that’s strong and reliable,” Natsume continued.

Corviknight raised its head slightly.

The wind today is particularly noisy.

“Better yet, a Flying-type Pokémon.”

Corviknight’s beak twitched into a barely contained grin, harder to suppress than recoil on an AK.

“With that in mind, the choice is obvious.”

As Corviknight prepped its pose, Natsume said, “I’ll bring the shiny Pidgeotto!”

“CAW?!”

Corviknight squawked, utterly shattered.

“CAW! CAW! CAW!!”

It flapped wildly, rushing over to Natsume like a tantrum-throwing llama, tears and spit flying everywhere.

If not for Gardevoir’s timely Psychic barrier, Natsume would’ve been drenched.

“Calm down!” Natsume barked, smacking Corviknight on the head.

It wasn’t anger; it was just that without the slap, the dizzy bird probably wouldn’t hear him clearly.

“CAW…”

Corviknight sat dazed on the ground like a duck, stars spinning around its head. It gazed at Natsume with newfound reverence.

No wonder he’s the boss—what terrifying strength.

Compared to him, even Persian seemed insignificant now.

Thinking this, Corviknight felt its odds of taking the “vice leader” position improve significantly.

“Alright, get up,” Natsume said, exasperated. “I’ll take you along this time.”

The bird’s antics made it seem like Natsume was some cruel Trainer who mistreated his Pokémon.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

The ancients once said: Buy fine horses in the east market, saddles in the west, bridles in the south, and whips in the north.

Natsume’s current situation wasn’t far from this.

At the entrance, he had Corviknight and Gardevoir. From the farm, he brought along the shiny Furret. By the lake, he picked up Zorua, who was hanging out with Slowpoke.

The reasoning behind this team was quite simple.

Corviknight and Gardevoir happened to be nearby. Plus, Gardevoir’s Psychic abilities were exceptionally useful for wilderness exploration and locating things.

Poor Butterfree had just lost its role as the group’s utility tool.

As for Zorua, it was necessary for finding Ogerpon—after all, Zorua was currently the only one who could track Ogerpon.

And the shiny Furret?

It was purely because Furret and Ogerpon had always gotten along well.

After all, those with similar personalities tend to click.

Simply put, substitute users are destined to attract each other!

It didn’t hurt to bring it along anyway, so Natsume casually included Furret before leaving.

At the moment, Natsume’s party consisted of four Pokémon, leaving two spots open.

Of course, this was only relevant to Trainers.

Natsume wasn’t a Trainer. If he wanted to, he could bring along dozens of Pokémon without issue.

The six-party limit was merely the official recommendation for the optimal team size.

Six Pokémon were enough to form a balanced team without significant weaknesses while also remaining manageable for a Trainer’s resources and energy.

In addition to his four Pokémon, Natsume carried a small bag containing gifts for Ogerpon, Poké Puffs, and a few Poké Balls.

Don’t ask why—just in case he came across a Pokémon he liked.

A couple of days ago, Natsume had seen an adorable Alcremie online.

The comments mentioned that Alcremie was theoretically the Pokémon with the most forms—seven decorations multiplied by nine flavors made 63 combinations.

Including shiny forms and Gigantamax, there were 128 variations in total.

This reminded Natsume that some Pokémon indeed had numerous forms or distinct traits.

Take Vivillon, for instance.

Natsume had started entertaining the idea of capturing more Pokémon like this—maybe he could achieve the title of a master collector someday.

But that was a matter for another time.

“For now, I’ll leave it to you to guide us, Zorua.”

Seated atop his Gogoat, Natsume addressed the Zorua perched on the goat’s head.

Zorua haughtily nodded in response.

Hmph, in the end, you all still need me.

This house would fall apart without me.

“Take care of the egg you brought back first before making such claims.”

Natsume ruffled Zorua’s fur so vigorously it looked like he might rub a hole in its head.

Ever since Zorua had brought back that egg, it hadn’t done much to care for it—just occasionally glanced at it and played for a bit.

“Suo!”

That’s not my child!

Shaking off Natsume’s hand, Zorua stuck out its tongue before signaling Gogoat to move forward with a couple of taps on its head.

Initially, Natsume had thought of walking to their destination.

But Zorua protested, not wanting to waste too much time outdoors.

It had plans to sunbathe with Slowpoke later that afternoon.

(Slowpoke, still processing the idea: Sunbathe? Sure!)

However, Gogoat remained motionless, as steady as a mountain, completely ignoring Zorua’s signals.

It slightly tilted its head toward Natsume, waiting for his command.

“Let’s go,” Natsume said.

At his word, Gogoat finally moved, starting with small strides that quickly transitioned into a gallop.

Despite the abrupt acceleration, the ride felt smooth and comfortable, with no hint of jolts.

If not for the rushing wind in his ears, Natsume might have thought they were still ambling leisurely along.

As expected of a Pokémon famed for its riding capabilities.

Much better than the shared Dodrios Natsume had ridden to school in the past.

“Suo, suo.”

Though annoyed at being ignored, Zorua dutifully pointed the way for Gogoat.

Now wasn’t the time to act up—Natsume would be upset if they delayed.

And an upset Natsume meant no tasty treats.

Zorua understood priorities well.

As for stealing other Pokémon’s food?

Zorua wasn’t the type to stoop so low.

“Suo, suo.”

Following Zorua’s guidance, Gogoat quickly brought Natsume to a desolate plain.

Apart from scattered rocks and withered weeds, there was nothing.

It was so desolate that not even Trainers bothered coming here.

This barren land was only appealing to Ghost Pokémon.

Even Pokémon that could endure harsh environments wouldn’t like it here.

After all, while they might tolerate harsh conditions, who would choose to sleep under a bridge if a warm bed were an option?

Unless they were streaming for sympathy, of course.

“Suo.”

Here we are.

Standing majestically on Gogoat’s head like Simba from The Lion King, Zorua indicated the destination to Natsume.

Looking in the direction of Zorua’s tail, Natsume saw...

Weeds.

“It really looks like there’s nothing here.”

Dismounting from Gogoat, Natsume sighed.

No wonder Ogerpon chose this spot to hide.

Even at such a close distance, the hiding place was flawless.

If not for Zorua, Natsume doubted he could’ve found it himself.

“Ogerpon, are you home?”

“I’ve come to see you!”

Crouching down, Natsume called into the seemingly small cave ahead.

His voice echoed through the tunnel, eventually reaching Ogerpon deep within.

“Mmmph!”

Ogerpon froze in place.

Like a rusty machine, it slowly turned around, step by hesitant step.

That voice...

It was Natsume!

Natsume was here!

“Mmmph!”

But my gift isn’t ready yet!

Or rather, it feels like I’ll never be ready!

Clutching its head, Ogerpon looked like the famous painting The Scream come to life.

Its entire demeanor radiated anxiety, unease, and a desperate urge to escape reality.

“Ogerpon?”

“Mmmph...”

Hearing Natsume’s voice from the cave entrance, Ogerpon hesitated briefly before deciding to respond.

Picking up a gift it wasn’t satisfied with—one it even disliked—Ogerpon began trudging toward the entrance, taking one hesitant step at a time.

Each step felt as heavy as lifting a mountain, requiring immense courage.

As it neared the entrance, Ogerpon paused, placing its unwanted gift on the ground.

It decided not to bring it out after all.

It’s not anything important anyway, just like my other collections.

Let’s just leave it here.

Ogerpon resigned itself to the thought, feeling a hint of self-abandonment.

Chapter Text

At the entrance of the cave, Natsume and Zorua watched as Ogerpon reluctantly shuffled out of the dark depths step by step.

Its unwillingness was written all over its face.

"Am I that hard to deal with?"

Sharing a glance with Zorua, Natsume, who already understood the situation, feigned a hurt expression.

Though he pretended to be upset, the corners of his mouth couldn’t help but curl up slightly.

“Mmmhm!”

Hearing this, Ogerpon, who had been hanging its head low, immediately perked up and frantically tried to explain to Natsume.

It wasn’t that it didn’t want to see him—absolutely not! It was something else entirely. It definitely wasn’t because it disliked Natsume.

In its anxious state, Ogerpon didn’t notice the faint smile on Natsume’s lips or the mischievous glint in Zorua’s eyes.

Seeing Ogerpon’s panicked look gave Natsume a slight pang of guilt—like teasing a curious child during the holidays by asking endless questions just to see their flustered reactions.

"Alright, alright, I know you don’t dislike me."

Noticing how close Ogerpon was to tears, Natsume quickly tried to comfort it.

Although Zorua had mentioned that Ogerpon wasn’t in a great mental state lately, Natsume hadn’t expected it to be this sensitive.

A single sentence nearly brought it to tears.

Feeling the warmth of Natsume's hand on its head, Ogerpon sniffled and forced its emotions back down.

Then, as if embarrassed by its behavior, it tilted its head away, refusing to meet Natsume’s eyes.

It didn’t want anyone, especially someone it cared about, to see such a vulnerable side of itself.

After all, crying in front of someone you hold dear feels deeply embarrassing, regardless of age, gender, or species.

Ogerpon cared too.

"Alright, don’t be mad now."

“Here, I brought you a gift.”

After calming Ogerpon down, Natsume reached into the small satchel he carried and pulled out a large gift box.

Inside was a gift he had prepared especially for Ogerpon.

Holding the box, which was almost bigger than itself, Ogerpon hesitated, unsure of what to say.

It glanced at the box in its arms and then at Natsume.

Suddenly, it felt its tears welling up again, barely under control.

For a child accustomed to being alone, the smallest acts of care could unravel them.

They might normally be calm, even indifferent in the face of adversity, but when someone extended genuine kindness, it was overwhelming.

“Do you want to open it and take a look?”

Noticing how Ogerpon used the gift box to hide its face, Natsume’s voice instinctively softened.

It was hard to be stern with such an endearing Pokémon.

If it were Corviknight, Natsume would’ve probably just given it a swift kick to make it act normal.

(Corviknight: “Why am I always the target?!”)

“Mmmhm!”

Nodding enthusiastically, Ogerpon set the gift box on the ground and quickly unwrapped it.

Inside the large box were two separated compartments. One contained two stacked masks, and the other held an ornate incense burner.

As Ogerpon examined the masks, Natsume explained:

“These two masks are something I found online.

“They’re not the ones you lost originally, but their designs are quite similar. I thought you might like them, so I bought them for you.”

“And the other item is a Rose Incense. It not only enhances Grass-type moves but also smells great.”

The masks had been an unexpected find when Natsume was shopping for gifts.

Of course, they weren’t the original masks Ogerpon had lost.

But in the age of the internet, anything was possible.

These masks were advertised as replicas of the ones Ogerpon had supposedly lost, and their designs were strikingly similar.

As for the Rose Incense, it was exactly as Natsume said—pleasant and functional.

Among the many items that boosted Grass-type moves, this one stood out for its aesthetic appeal.

After all, a gift should be presentable.

It wouldn’t make sense to say, “Here’s a gift,” and then pull out something unrecognizable from your pocket.

That would be downright bizarre.

“Do you like it?”

Watching Ogerpon, who seemed lost in thought, Natsume asked nervously.

The truth was, he wasn’t very experienced with gift-giving.

Back in school, his classmates often seemed to form inexplicably close bonds—suddenly staying over at each other’s houses, becoming best friends, and then just as suddenly drifting apart.

Natsume had never really understood those dynamics.

Birthday parties? Holiday gifts? Those weren’t part of his world.

He didn’t even celebrate his own birthday.

Humans were complicated. Compared to them, interacting with Pokémon was much simpler.

“Mhhmmh!”

Ogerpon hastily wiped at its face, grabbed one of the masks, and placed it over its own, hiding its current expression. Then it nodded firmly.

It loved the gift.

As long as it was from Natsume, it would love it.

“That’s great.”

Seeing Ogerpon’s face obscured by the mask, Natsume didn’t press further about why it hadn’t visited the farm lately.

Instead, he started chatting about recent events on the farm.

The storage shed where Ogerpon used to play hide-and-seek with Shiny Furret had been renovated.

Flowers had been planted around the lake, though it wasn’t clear if they’d survive.

Sandslash had bought a pack of giant pumpkin seeds online and was eager to plant them.

Togepi had gotten itself covered in mud yesterday, leaving footprints all over the house, and ended up being chased down by Minccino.

In the end, Minccino had dragged Togepi into the bathroom for a real cleaning session—with a showerhead and a scrub brush.

True combat bathing.

As for why Ogerpon hadn’t visited, Zorua had already explained—it had been obsessing over creating the perfect gift for Natsume, only to end up stuck in an endless loop of self-doubt and frustration.

Sitting on the ground with Natsume’s gift in its arms, Ogerpon quietly listened to his stories.

It nodded vigorously and let out little sounds of agreement, showing its complete support for everything Natsume said.

No matter what Natsume said, Ogerpon wholeheartedly agreed.

“So, Ogerpon.”

“Would you like to be my partner?”

Suddenly, Natsume extended his hand toward Ogerpon and asked.

“Mhhmm… mah?!”

Ogerpon, who had been nodding absentmindedly, froze in shock.

What was going on?

It felt like a casual conversation about dinner had suddenly veered into, “I want to become a magical girl.”

This was completely unexpected!

“Well? What do you say?”

“Would you like to be my partner?”

Natsume repeated the question, watching the stunned Ogerpon intently.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

Throwing a straight ball—direct and straightforward—is a high-level yet incredibly effective strategy.

Though simple and lacking intricate techniques, mastering this skill isn’t common.

In countless romance anime, there are only a handful of characters who can wield this approach effectively.

Rather than directly expressing feelings, many seem to prefer engaging in a game of back-and-forth probing. Even when a straightforward confession would guarantee success, they insist on dragging it out.

It’s like fencing, like dancing a tango.

Or like playing Nasus in top lane and being kited endlessly by a Vayne.

The renowned love theorist Kaguya Shinomiya, who once said, "Love is war—whoever confesses first loses," would argue that the key to winning lies in making the other party confess first.

To put it plainly, the one confessing first is essentially offering themselves up as prey for taming.

Based on this theory, we often see characters in anime saying things like, “She’s cute, but I don’t like her,” or “I’d never be with him,” only to end up eating their words or crying in a corner, lamenting, “I was here first!”

To such losers, we can only say: Please calm down. It’s not the season for White Album anymore.

Eris Sawamura, a poster child for such characters, would likely have a lot to say. If necessary, she could write a 100,000-word dissertation titled A Hundred Ways to Lose Despite a Perfect Start.

In contrast, there’s the “straight ball” faction.

Instead of intricate maneuvers and convoluted tactics, they believe in boldly laying their emotions bare, presenting their feelings openly, and ensuring the other person understands.

Love should be shouted out loud!

Denji, the “uneducated but straightforward” protagonist, once declared, "I want to be Miss Makima’s dog."

He got his wish, being turned into her literal plaything.

And then he inherited her dog.

It’s like a dog owning another dog—layers of irony.

Anyway, back on topic.

Though Natsume lacked romantic experience, his extensive anime-watching history had taught him a vital truth: Hesitation leads to defeat.

Thus, he was firmly in the "straight ball" camp, much like how certain generals’ families have unwavering loyalty to triangular underwear.

“...Suo...”

An unexpected turn of events.

Zorua, observing from the sidelines, found the scene utterly riveting.

If only there were snacks to munch on while watching this drama unfold—it’d be perfect.

“Umma…”

The sudden invitation left Ogerpon flustered.

When someone is moved, their judgment often falters.

It’s akin to proposing marriage when emotions are high—there’s a good chance of success. Wait until they’re calm, though, and the odds aren’t as favorable.

Like a four-panel comic where a knight proposes with a ring labeled INT-7. The girl, touched, says, “Yes.” But after wearing the ring and gaining intelligence, she rethinks and promptly declines.

“Mhmm, mmm…”

Covering her face, Ogerpon’s mind raced at unprecedented speed.

This was her peak performance, even if her thoughts were absurd—What pose should I use to say yes? Would accepting immediately seem too eager? If I agree, should I move in with Natsume right away?

Amidst the chaos, a shred of logic prevailed.

Do I like Natsume?

Yes.

Is Natsume a good person?

Yes.

Would joining Natsume bring any downsides?

None.

Would Natsume treat his Pokémon well?

Absolutely.

So…

Is there any reason to refuse?

None.

“Mhmm!”

The answer was clear!

Behind her mask, Ogerpon’s gaze firmed up, radiating determination.

“Mhmmm!”

I pledge my loyalty! (Or something like that.)

I’m willing to become Natsume’s partner!

With that, Ogerpon reached out her small hand.

Seeing her response, Natsume smiled and extended his hand as well.

A large hand and a small hand lightly met in the air.

With that, their bond was sealed.

If this were a game, you’d probably hear some narrator declaring the partnership formed.

But this wasn’t a game.

Here, both humans and Pokémon were alive and real.

They weren’t just cold data or NPCs acting on pre-set logic.

When faced with living, breathing Pokémon in this world, even the coldest person would inevitably change.

Even the antagonists of the Pokémon world rarely aim for outright destruction.

Giovanni sought to overturn the League and reshape the world.

The goals of Team Aqua and Team Magma were to expand the sea and land, respectively.

By the time of Sword and Shield, Team Yell was just Marnie’s passionate fan club.

Their so-called “evil deeds” often boiled down to blocking the protagonist’s journey and creating minor inconveniences.

Some even helped people.

That’s the kind of “villains” we have in the Pokémon world.

Pulling out a Poké Ball from his bag, Natsume held it up toward Ogerpon.

Before he could say anything, Ogerpon took the initiative to press her hand against the button, letting the red light envelop her.

The Poké Ball wobbled slightly before clicking into place with a soft chime, signaling a successful capture.

Though it was just an ordinary Poké Ball, it now held a mythical Grass-type Pokémon.

It felt surreal, like a tabby cat falling for a pure white one.

(For those unfamiliar with the analogy: a tabby cat is like Liu Yifei, while a white cat… well… is like you, dear reader. Crossed out.)

“Poof!”

In a flash of light, Ogerpon emerged from the Poké Ball.

For her, the Poké Ball wasn’t restrictive at all. She had to be careful not to accidentally break the delicate device.

Poké Ball: I’m full! I can’t take it anymore! (Crying).

“Feeling better?” Natsume asked with a smile, watching Ogerpon, now lively and spirited.

“Mhhmm!”

Brimming with energy!

“Good, then let’s get along well from now on, Ogerpon.”

“Mhmm!”

Clutching her precious gift tightly, Ogerpon nodded enthusiastically.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

“Mhmm.”

After being captured by Natsume, Ogerpon immediately decided to move into the farm.

This desolate place was too barren and boring.

When it first arrived here, it had chosen this location because it was safe—only a fool would willingly stay here otherwise.

People change over time.

So do Pokémon.

When Ogerpon had first arrived, this place seemed perfect in every way: safe, secluded, and undisturbed.

Even if danger arose, it could always dart into the nearby forest to hide.

But now, no matter how it looked at this place, Ogerpon couldn’t stand it.

Barren, remote, with no other Pokémon to talk to.

And, worst of all, it was far too far from Natsume’s farm!

This was the biggest issue for Ogerpon. The rest? Tolerable.

But this one thing was absolutely unacceptable.

It didn’t matter anymore, though—because now it was moving into Natsume’s farm!

But before that, there was one last thing to do.

Moving out.

“Um-mah!”

Watching Gardevoir use Psychic to carry out its “collection,” Ogerpon couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed.

It was like having someone else see your browser history.

No, wait—maybe not that bad.

To be more precise, it was like being caught by a friend after sending your goddess an essay-length confession in the middle of the night, only to get a red exclamation mark in response.

Wait, isn’t that about the same?

“Hmm Mhmm!”

At Ogerpon’s insistence, Gardevoir placed its “treasures” off to the side, letting Ogerpon sort through them itself.

Gardevoir was more than happy to comply.

If it didn’t need to organize them, all the better.

Honestly, Gardevoir had no clue how to even begin categorizing those things.

“I’ll help.”

Natsume knelt beside Ogerpon, offering to help organize the items.

Among Ogerpon’s collection, most were things humans had discarded as trash.

Yes, trash.

To Ogerpon, though, these “discarded items” were treasures.

Colorful but cheap-looking glass cups, shiny hairpins, a broken and non-functional Pokédex—these human “trash items” were the centerpieces of Ogerpon’s collection.

Having spent so long avoiding humans and other Pokémon, Ogerpon had no idea whether these things were valuable or even useful.

To Ogerpon, they were shiny, interesting, and, therefore, treasures.

They were some of the only things it could find without having to get too close to humans.

Like the glass bead it had taken from Natsume earlier.

Back then, among all the items in that pile, there had been things of actual value.

But Ogerpon had still chosen the glass bead that sparkled in the moonlight.

At that time, in its eyes, that bead was the most precious treasure.

However, after getting to know Natsume, Ogerpon began to understand more about the human world.

Through Corviknight, it even got to use a smartphone. Originally, it just wanted to learn some crafting techniques to make a gift for Natsume, but in the process, it accidentally stumbled upon the rich and colorful world of the internet.

To be honest, the moment Ogerpon saw the internet, its worldview was completely shattered.

It never imagined that the world wasn’t limited to forests, villages, or crocodiles baring their teeth by the lake.

The world could be so vibrant, so vast.

It was then Ogerpon realized it had never truly understood the world—it didn’t even feel like it belonged.

It was unfamiliar, foreign—entirely so.

Everything about it screamed of a world that Ogerpon didn’t know, a world it could never truly enter.

It was like a child from the mountains stepping into a bustling city filled with neon lights for the first time.

To see a world it could neither belong to nor tread upon was overwhelming.

The shock, coupled with the deep-seated sense of inferiority, could crush a person in an instant.

Ogerpon’s recent slump likely stemmed from this realization: that the treasures it once held dear were nothing more than discarded garbage to others.

“All done.”

After helping Ogerpon tidy up its “treasures,” Natsume stood and dusted off his pants.

Ogerpon, meanwhile, silently stared at the objects it had once cherished. Then, without much thought, it stuffed them all into the bag Natsume had brought.

Perhaps it would use these items to decorate the room waiting for it at the farm.

Or perhaps it would abandon them altogether.

But that wasn’t for Natsume to meddle in.

It was like raising a teenager—they had their own thoughts. As a parent, your role wasn’t to force them to act according to your ideals, but to ensure they didn’t stray off the right path while granting them the respect and freedom they deserved.

“Oh, right. Zorua mentioned you prepared a gift for me.”

“Can I see it?”

“Mhmm!”

Ogerpon froze, its eyes darting wildly behind its mask.

Ah, the gift.

Right, there was that.

But it was terrible! So bad that Ogerpon didn’t even want to show it!

“Mhm Mhhmm!”

Frantically waving its arms, Ogerpon tried to change the subject, diverting Natsume’s attention from the utterly embarrassing gift.

But no matter what it said, Natsume just smiled patiently and waited.

Once Ogerpon finished rambling, Natsume simply added, “I see. So, where’s my gift?”

“Um-mah!”

Finally, Ogerpon gave up.

Feigning anger, it lightly kicked Natsume’s shin before turning and diving into its den.

After a brief rustling, it emerged with…

A handmade poster?

A piece of white paper larger than Ogerpon itself, with wobbly cartoon figures scrawled on it using colored markers.

Judging by the colors and distorted outlines, it seemed to depict Natsume and several Pokémon from the farm with whom Ogerpon was close.

The poster was decorated with a variety of shiny trinkets. Judging from the creases and marks on the paper, Ogerpon had originally planned to make a pop-up book but had given up due to technical and material limitations.

“Mhhm!”

Avoiding Natsume’s gaze, Ogerpon raised the poster with a feigned nonchalance.

See? This is your gift.

Not that it’s any good, though.

“Thank you, Ogerpon. I love it.”

But then, that familiar, comforting hand landed on Ogerpon’s head again.

Peeking up, Ogerpon saw Natsume’s usual gentle smile—without a hint of displeasure.

Oh, right. Natsume had always been kind.

Watching Natsume carefully tuck away the poster it had poured its heart into, Ogerpon hesitated for a few seconds before suddenly lunging into his arms.

Resting its head against Natsume’s chest, it stayed there quietly for a few seconds before quickly pulling away.

“Mhmm.”

So, what are we doing next?

Looking at the “nonchalant” Ogerpon, Natsume couldn’t help but chuckle.

How could a gift made with such care ever be disliked?

Chapter Text

“Mhmm~ Mhmm~”

Leading the way like a small, enthusiastic captain on a school trip, Ogerpon marched at the front of the group.

One mask adorned her face, another strapped securely to her back, and she hugged a bundle of fragrant flowers close to her chest. Although Natsume had offered to carry them for her, she refused without hesitation, declaring these were gifts from him—priceless treasures she had to hold herself.

This, despite the fact that all her other "treasures" were unceremoniously stuffed into the bag Natsume was carrying.

“Fur-Furr~”

Beside her, the shiny Furret matched her stride, humming an improvised, nonsensical tune. No melody, no rhythm, just a carefree expression of joy.

Earlier, when Natsume was talking with Ogerpon, Furret had been watching from the sidelines. Although it had tried to approach several times, Zorua had firmly held it back.

This is good drama; don’t ruin it, Zorua had warned.

Despite Zorua’s small frame, its strength was unexpectedly impressive—it pinned Furret to the ground with one paw.

Darn it, guess I need to train harder when we get back, Furret had thought bitterly.

“Looks like everything’s okay now,” Natsume thought, following behind Ogerpon with a noticeable sense of relief.

Before this trip, he’d been quite worried about her. Like a teenager stuck in a bout of self-doubt, Ogerpon had been isolating herself, unreachable by others. In such cases, the only thing one can do is gently guide them, hoping they find their own way out.

Thankfully, Ogerpon's condition wasn’t too severe.

Sure, the colorful, dazzling world she’d glimpsed had overwhelmed her. But so what? To her, that world was distant, out of reach, and irrelevant to her present.

Right now, the only thing she cared about was living with Natsume. The rest could wait for another day.

It wasn’t something she needed to concern herself with right now.

“Zor.”

Perched smugly atop Gogoat’s head, Zorua looked utterly satisfied.

What a great day.

A heartfelt story about a kind-hearted farm boy and a wandering mythical Pokémon—it felt like a TV drama brought to life.

Now, Zorua had even more tales and gossip to share with the other Pokémon back at the farm. Maybe it could score a few extra Pokéblocks while it was at it. The thought filled Zorua with glee.

Of course, if Zorua had wanted Pokéblocks, it could’ve just asked Natsume. He would never refuse.

But where’s the fun in that? Conning Pokéblocks out of others? Now that was satisfying.

“You should move around more, you know,” Natsume said, poking Zorua’s head twice with his finger. “At this rate, you’re going to get fat.”

Even I’m walking on foot, he thought, and yet this supposedly energetic Pokémon seemed determined to laze around all day. Even now, Zorua was riding on Gogoat’s head, letting it do all the work.

“Zor!” Zorua protested indignantly.

Me? Fat? Impossible! My figure is perfectly proportioned. Even if I do gain a little weight, it just means the perfect Pokémon body proportions have changed.

Yes, that’s it. Perfect proportions are based on me! Zorua thought confidently.

Like those debates over the "proper" way to hold a wine glass—didn’t Queen Elizabeth once silence the argument with her unique grip?

“Caw!”

Corviknight, circling above Natsume, landed gracefully on the ground. It strutted behind him like a rooster, occasionally muttering under its breath.

This trip had felt utterly pointless for it—no action, no excitement, nothing to do but watch.

I even prepared some cool lines... wasted!

Still, Natsume’s earlier words about heartfelt gifts not being rejected sounded pretty cool.

Maybe I should write that one down, Corviknight thought. It decided to add the line to its phone’s notes later.

One more line for the stockpile, it thought, feeling slightly better about the wasted trip.

Gardevoir, on the other hand, stayed silent.

Using her psychic abilities, she expanded her perception, carefully scanning the surroundings. No movement, no disturbance would escape her.

Such was the power of a Psychic-type Pokémon.

At the same time, Gardevoir began pondering gifts for her younger sisters back at the farm. If not for Natsume, she might’ve forgotten about preparing something for them entirely.

As for that idiot brother of hers…

Gardevoir hesitated.

She felt she should prepare something for him, but whenever she thought of his leisurely lifestyle, she grew inexplicably annoyed.

Each morning, he’d wake up naturally, exercise a bit, then spend the rest of the day in retirement mode—patrolling the berry orchard, chatting with Sandslash, fishing by the lake.

How irritatingly carefree! she thought.

Perhaps... his gift could wait.

“It’s fine, you’ll have your moment,” Natsume reassured Corviknight, who seemed eager for a role.

Just as he was about to continue, he felt his pocket buzz. His phone had received a message.

Natsume used to keep his phone on silent 24/7—there wasn’t much point in sound notifications when no one messaged him. Most of the time, it was just ads or spam.

But things were different now.

There were people and messages he cared about.

“Caw?”

Corviknight cocked its head, curious about Natsume’s reaction.

What’s this? Is Natsume finally falling in love?

Was it that girl from before?

Because Corviknight spent most of its time watching anime in its room, it was always behind on the latest farm gossip.

Yep, you guessed right, Zorua’s smug glance seemed to say, as it confirmed Corviknight’s suspicions.

But seriously, get with the times, birdbrain. This 2G internet lifestyle of yours is getting old.

“Oh, sorry, I got distracted.”

Snapping out of it, Natsume smiled apologetically and scrolled through his contacts. He found Mei’s number and dialed.

“Hello, good afternoon, Mei.”

His voice was light and relaxed as the call connected.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

"Suo?"

Watching Natsume step aside to make a phone call, Zorua tilted its head in confusion.

Do you think our Pokémon hearing is bad? At this distance, even if you step ten meters farther away, we can still hear every word loud and clear.

It wasn’t just Zorua. The other Pokémon nearby also had their ears perked up, secretly eavesdropping on Natsume’s conversation.

Leading the group of snooping Pokémon were Ogerpon and Corviknight.

Ogerpon, having just been captured and still very curious about Natsume, wanted to know more about him.

As for Corviknight... it was purely driven by gossip and curiosity.

This bird had an insatiable appetite for gossip and loved sharing rumors. Whenever it caught wind of juicy news, it couldn't resist spreading it around.

“No worries, no worries. It was just a minor setback,” Natsume said. “You’ve already surpassed so many others.”

Although the Pokémon couldn’t hear the entire conversation, Zorua managed to piece together the gist:
It seemed like that girl, Mei, had lost a battle and called Natsume to vent her frustration.

Well, that was pretty normal. When people fail, they often need someone to talk to.

Expressing oneself is just one way of dealing with setbacks. When faced with frustration or failure, everyone has their own way of coping.

Some choose to vent, others opt for a trip, while a few might simply sleep it off.

For Zorua, its method was a bit unique.

Last week, it played chess with Togepi. Upon realizing it was on the verge of losing, it "accidentally" flipped the chessboard in a single swift move.

Not only did it avoid losing, but it also relieved its stress. Two birds with one stone!

Of course, Zorua explained the incident as a mere slip of the paw—not because it couldn't handle losing.

Me? A proud Pokémon—no, a proud fox! How could I possibly be a sore loser?

“Alright, alright, don’t be upset.”

“Get stronger, and then give them a good thrashing next time.”

“The Gym isn’t going anywhere.”

Natsume clumsily tried to comfort Mei on the other end of the call.

He knew he wasn’t great at consoling people.

Everyone has things they aren’t good at, and for Natsume, comforting others was definitely one of them.

Whenever he had to cheer someone up, he felt like tying himself to a lamppost out of sheer embarrassment.

I mean, do I really give off the vibe of someone who’s good at comforting people? Why does everyone come to me with their problems?!

Natsume just couldn’t figure it out.

“Got it,” Mei replied on the other end, nodding vigorously.

After wiping her nose, she made an effort to pull herself together.

Honestly, it wasn’t just the loss that upset Mei so much.

As a Trainer, losing to someone stronger is par for the course. It’s the same with Gym battles.

It’s not like she was some invincible prodigy, guaranteed to win every match.

But still... losing stung.

“By the way, Natsume, I was hoping you could do me a favor,” Mei hesitated, sounding a little embarrassed.

“I’d like Corviknight to help train my Pokémon, especially in terms of mental toughness and handling pressure.”

Apparently, the trash talk during her battle had really gotten under her skin, leaving her feeling defeated and frustrated.

“No problem at all,” Natsume agreed without hesitation, glancing at Corviknight, who was still busy eavesdropping.

He had been looking for something to keep this lazy bird, who spent all day binge-watching anime upstairs, occupied. This seemed like the perfect opportunity.

After all, there’s nothing more exhausting than babysitting.

Mei’s team lineup, Natsume recalled, consisted of several challenging personalities.

Servine was aloof and composed, so it wouldn’t be much trouble.

But Tepig and Dewott were a different story. Tepig was overly energetic and loved to recklessly spit flames everywhere. Dewott, on the other hand, kept to itself, training silently and barely interacting with others.

The last member, Steenee, who had recently evolved from Bounsweet, seemed easygoing enough.

However, Natsume predicted that the moment Steenee arrived at the farm, it would rush to reunite with its old friends in the Steenee group.

Trying to enforce strict training under such circumstances would be tricky, especially in front of its “family.” Even with the excuse of “it’s for your own good,” it wouldn’t go over well.

“Caw?”

Corviknight’s expression froze mid-eavesdrop.

Wait, what? How did this become my responsibility?!

I’m just here for the gossip!

But then it reconsidered. Mei had specifically asked for its help, which was a clear sign of trust and recognition.

Training Pokémon, trash-talking them, and keeping them on their toes? That was right up its alley!

Corviknight’s mood flipped instantly, and a sly grin spread across its beak.

“Caw, caw, caw!”

Its mischievous laugh, however, wasn’t exactly a crowd-pleaser.

“Alright then, see you next week,” Natsume said before hanging up the phone.

Turning around, he noticed the Pokémon behind him awkwardly pretending not to have been eavesdropping.

When Natsume’s gaze landed on them, Corviknight and the others quickly averted their eyes, avoiding eye contact.

Getting caught snooping was just a little too embarrassing.

Zorua, however, stared back at him boldly, its expression saying, Yeah, I listened. So what? What are you gonna do about it?

But because Zorua was perched on Gogoat’s head, when Gogoat turned its head, Zorua was forced to turn away as well, breaking eye contact.

“Suo?”

Zorua spun back around to face Natsume, looking curious.

“So, what’s the deal?”

“Mei will be staying at the farm next week for some special training,” Natsume explained. “Not sure how long she’ll stay, though. When we get back, let’s make sure the guest room is cleaned up.”

Smiling, Natsume didn’t dwell on the topic. Instead, he turned his attention to Ogerpon, who was happily gesturing with its mask up ahead.

Earlier, Ogerpon had mentioned that Ghost-type Pokémon like Phantump, Misdreavus, and Yamask tended to show up in this area at night.

Although Ogerpon didn’t know their exact names, its descriptions matched these Pokémon closely.

Among them, Natsume was particularly interested in Misdreavus—for no other reason than its cuteness.

In this world, cuteness is justice. Adorable Pokémon always get preferential treatment.

He planned to return at night and see if he could catch some Ghost-types.

But for now, it was time to head home.

“Alright, everyone, let’s go home.”

Chapter Text

After returning to the farm with his Pokémon companions, Natsume quickly gathered everyone to announce the addition of Ogerpon to the farm.

Hmm, the phrasing felt oddly reminiscent of clickbait headlines like “XXX joins Platform Y!” that frequently trend online. Those are usually a dead giveaway that some platform spent a hefty sum to invite a celebrity or influencer no one has really heard of.

Much like those comments reading “xx, xxxxxxxx,” which always mean another top-lane player has lost their cherished account.

The arrival of Ogerpon was warmly welcomed by the farm's residents. After all, they were already quite familiar with one another.

Shiny Furret and Togepi, in particular, had built a good rapport with Ogerpon. Well, at least Togepi thought they had.

The mischievous little Pokémon often tried to drag Ogerpon into its pranks. But despite Togepi's enthusiasm, Ogerpon wasn’t particularly fond of mischief—it simply didn’t know how to say no, so it kept getting dragged along.

On the other hand, Shiny Furret genuinely shared a great bond with Ogerpon.

Though calling them “two little ones” felt misleading—Shiny Furret was now taller than Natsume when standing upright, starting to resemble a certain blue weasel from next door.

"Brother, you smell amazing."

“Meow~”

As the farm’s second-in-command, Persian was the first to welcome Ogerpon.

Being second only to Natsume, Persian was undoubtedly the leader among the Pokémon on the farm.

Partly due to its special place in Natsume's heart, but also because of its strength.

Previously, Persian was unquestionably the strongest on the farm. It could easily handle any challenger lining up for a fight with a single swipe.

However, Ogerpon's arrival had altered that dynamic.

Though they hadn’t battled, Ogerpon, being a mythical Grass-type Pokémon, clearly outclassed ordinary Pokémon in stats and raw physical prowess.

Even pseudo-legendary Pokémon would seem frail compared to Ogerpon.

Yet Persian didn’t appear to mind at all.

With Persian setting the tone, the other Pokémon naturally had no objections.

“Emolga.”

Just then, Emolga returned from an outing, clutching several berries in its paws.

These berries were gifts from its admirers on the farm.

Though there had been many more, Emolga had carefully picked out only a few that suited its taste. Of course, it told its suitors, "These are enough for me. You can keep the rest; no need to go out of your way."

The poor Pokémon were so moved they nearly handed over their entire stockpile, including their last reserves.

To welcome the new addition, Emolga chose its favorite berry and offered it to Ogerpon, signaling for it to have a taste.

Ogerpon accepted the berry and took a tentative bite.

The sweet flavor exploded on its tongue.

Delicious.

Its eyes squinted in delight.

Seeing Ogerpon’s reaction, Emolga was pleased as well, and the two quickly became good friends.

Watching the two chat happily on the couch, Natsume turned and began rummaging through the gifts he had tucked away in Persian’s den, preparing to hand them out.

“Minccino!”

Holding a smaller gift box, Natsume called out toward the attic.

At this time of day, Minccino was probably upstairs cleaning.

Natsume had even heard the distinct tap-tap-tap of its footsteps earlier.

By now, Natsume could proudly say he could recognize his Pokémon by their footsteps.

Before Lopunny evolved, he could easily distinguish between Minccino and Buneary’s footsteps simply from the subtle differences. It wasn’t a talent—just something he picked up from listening to them so often.

Thud.

Tap-tap-tap…

“Mi?”

After a heavy object hit the floor with a thud, there was a series of light, rapid steps.

Minccino’s little gray head peeked out from the attic entrance.

“This is a little gift for you,” Natsume said, holding up the gift box and beckoning Minccino over.

“Mi-mi?”

Another gift? Didn’t you already give me one?

Minccino tilted its head in confusion.

Not that it was complaining—it loved the previous gift.

Was this an extra one?

How generous!

“This is a special surprise gift for you,” Natsume explained.

“Come check it out.”

Hearing this, Minccino’s eyes lit up instantly.

It bounded down the stairs, skipping steps as it went.

“Mi!”

As usual, it nuzzled against Natsume’s wrist before eagerly accepting the gift box and tearing it open.

Inside, under the wrapping, was a transparent case holding a shimmering “gem.”

“This is a Shiny Stone,” Natsume explained. “It will allow you to evolve into Cinccino.

“If you want to evolve, just touch it.”

He hesitated for a moment before adding, “But…”

Natsume originally wanted to remind Minccino to think carefully before deciding to evolve.

After all, evolution was irreversible.

Many Pokémon chose not to evolve, and while Natsume had subtly confirmed that Minccino wasn’t against evolving, it was still better to double-check.

Before he could finish his sentence, however, Minccino had already ripped open the case and slapped its paw on the Shiny Stone without a moment’s hesitation.

The next second, a radiant white light enveloped its small frame.

The Shiny Stone gradually shrank, dissolving into energy that fueled Minccino’s evolution.

When the light faded, a new Pokémon stood before him.

“So you’ve been waiting to evolve for a while, huh, Cinccino?”

Natsume chuckled as he observed the newly-evolved Cinccino examining its body with curiosity.

It looked like a taller, more elegant version of Minccino, with longer, more luxurious fur. Its long tail was covered in fine, silky hair, and two tufts of fur draped over its head like a scarf.

It resembled an aristocratic lady, brimming with elegance and charm.

The internet had always said Cinccino’s fur felt exceptionally smooth to the touch.

Natsume could now confirm that this was absolutely true.

“Cinno.”

Feeling its newly-evolved form, Cinccino was clearly delighted.

This newfound power!

It’s intoxicating!

How could anyone not adjust to their evolved form?

Right, Corviknight?

After cuddling with Natsume for a while, Cinccino darted off to share the joy of its evolution with its friends.

Moments like these deserved to be shared immediately!

Once Cinccino left, Natsume dug out another box.

This one contained a gift for Slowpoke.

“All right, time to find Slowpoke,” he said.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

The Pokémon on Natsume’s farm were always a bit peculiar, with distinct personalities and strong opinions. This was something Natsume had long come to understand.

Even Slowpoke, typically known for being slow-witted, sometimes displayed remarkable wisdom.

One sunny afternoon, Natsume was lounging by the lakeside with his shiny Furret in his arms, basking in the sun. Out of boredom, he struck up a conversation with Slowpoke.

To call it a conversation was a bit of a stretch—Natsume was mostly talking to himself. After all, one couldn’t realistically expect to have a smooth exchange with a Slowpoke.

Even though Natsume could understand Pokémon speech, that didn’t mean the Pokémon could always understand him.

Slowpoke’s general response seemed to be: What you’re saying is too profound; I don’t quite get it.

Whenever Natsume started a new topic, it usually took Slowpoke a good while to process what he had said.

But when Natsume casually brought up Slowpoke’s potential evolution, it showed a surprisingly ‘excited’ reaction.

“Slowpoke, do you think you’ll evolve into a Slowking or a Slowbro in the future?” Natsume had asked lazily, his shiny Furret resting in his lap. “If you want to become a Slowking, I’ll need to get you a King’s Rock.”

If Natsume had to choose, he’d definitely prefer Slowking. With its sharp rise in intelligence, communication would become much easier.

He hadn’t expected Slowpoke to respond. Typically, it would take another minute or two for Slowpoke to even realize what was being discussed.

But to Natsume’s surprise, Slowpoke responded almost instantly.

“Slow~”
I want to evolve into a Slowking, it said, lying calmly beside Natsume.

“Huh?”

Startled, Natsume sat up and removed his Psyduck-themed sleep mask, staring at Slowpoke.

Slowpoke, in turn, gazed back at him with an unusually wise and serene expression.

“Slow.”
Slowking, the smart one, it clarified after a few seconds, as if afraid Natsume didn’t understand.

“Sometimes I really don’t know what to make of you...”

Natsume sighed, unsure how to respond. He had noticed early on that this Slowpoke was different from others of its kind—particularly when it came to intelligence.

Most of the time, it behaved like a typical Slowpoke: slow to react, seemingly clueless, and prone to bizarre actions, like fishing with its tail only to have it yanked into the water by the fish.

It had plenty of antics that could make your blood pressure spike.

But occasionally, it displayed behavior that was far from ‘slow.’

Like now.

Fast forward to today, Natsume walked toward the lake, carrying a small gift box. The contents were obvious—it could only be a King’s Rock.

This particular King’s Rock hadn’t been easy to acquire. Unlike evolutionary stones like the Dawn Stone, the King’s Rock also served as a held item.

Its Pokédex description read: When held, it may cause the target to flinch after being hit.

In simple terms, it granted a chance to inflict a flinch status on opponents, and with multi-hit moves, each hit had its own probability of triggering the effect.

“I wonder if Slowpoke is ready to evolve,” Natsume mused.

To evolve, Slowpoke not only needed the King’s Rock but also a Shellder.

If its tail was bitten, it would evolve into Slowbro. If the King’s Rock was equipped and its head was bitten, it would evolve into Slowking.

Both evolutions had a base stat total of 490, with Slowbro excelling in physical defense and Slowking in special defense.

Before the introduction of Mega Evolution, most trainers favored Slowking due to its higher intelligence and overall utility in both battles and daily life.

However, after Mega Evolution became a thing, Slowbro’s Mega Form earned it more fans.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Slowpoke. Your package has arrived!”

Natsume called out to Slowpoke, who was lazily fishing by the lakeside.

Package? What package?

Drowsy from basking in the warm sunlight, Slowpoke was momentarily dazed.

Then, as if struck by a sudden epiphany, its eyes lit up.

The package! It must be the King’s Rock!

Realizing this, Slowpoke shot up and ‘sprinted’ toward Natsume with a speed that seemed entirely uncharacteristic of its species.

It looked almost like a Husky dashing toward its owner.

“Alright, alright, here you go.”

Amused by Slowpoke’s eager expression, Natsume couldn’t help but laugh.

It was the first time he’d seen such emotion in Slowpoke’s usually vacant eyes.

Normally, it wore an expression that seemed to say, Oh, you’re so smart, good for you.

But now, it seemed genuinely invested.

“Slow.”

Slowpoke plopped down on the ground and began tearing into the gift wrap, its tail wagging faintly behind it.

“Don’t litter.”

“Slow.”
Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up later.

“Really?”

“Slow.”
Nope.

After unwrapping the box, Slowpoke stared at the somewhat ‘cheap-looking’ crown inside. For a moment, its emotions seemed to fluctuate, but it quickly regained composure.

Carefully placing the crown on its head, it stood up, as though trying to sense some new power.

“Do you feel anything?” Natsume asked curiously.

“Slow.”
Not really, I just wanted to change my pose.

It glanced at Natsume with an expression that was either exasperated or sarcastic, as if to say, How could you expect me to feel anything? It’s just a crown, not actual royalty.

“You’re really dropping the act now, huh?” Natsume chuckled.

“Slow?”
I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Crown on its head, Slowpoke tilted its head and stuck out its tongue, fully adopting its usual ‘dimwitted’ persona.

Seeing Slowpoke’s playful antics, Natsume didn’t press further.

“Well, now that you’ve got the King’s Rock, you just need a Shellder to complete the evolution. Do you need my help?”

“Slow.”
No need. I’m ready for this.

Shaking its head, Slowpoke signaled for Natsume to follow it to the lakeside.

Once there, Slowpoke slapped the water’s surface with its tail.

“Slow~”

Its drawn-out call echoed as if summoning something.

Moments later, ripples spread across the water, and a wild Shellder leaped out!

Chapter Text

After leaping out of the lake, the Shellder scanned the shore.

Upon spotting the King’s Rock atop the Slowpoke’s head, its expression shifted to one of understanding.

So that’s how it was.

Clacking its shell, the Shellder hopped to Slowpoke’s side and quietly awaited its destined moment.

After evolution, it would become part of another Pokémon.

Though it would retain its own thoughts, it could no longer move, speak, or express emotions.

It would exist like a repulsive parasite, growing by siphoning nutrients from the Slowpoke.

No longer an independent being, but a mere component of another creature.

Such a future felt suffocating just to imagine.

Yet the Shellder seemed utterly calm, as if it had long prepared itself for this—even welcoming it eagerly.

“So you’ve already made arrangements…”

“…and even convinced it willingly.”

Natsume watched the Shellder lingering near the Slowpoke, seemingly in a daze, and felt surprised.

He knew this Slowpoke was clever, but hadn’t expected it to procure its own Shellder for evolution in advance—and to tame the creature into willingly becoming its “component.”

Yes, component.

No matter how kindly phrased, Slowpoke’s evolution required a Shellder’s cooperation.

All the Shellder’s past joys, sorrows, and efforts would vanish the moment evolution took hold. No one would remember the Shellder; they’d only think of Slowking. Thus, trainers rarely allowed their own Shellder to evolve their Slowpoke.

Even wild Shellder avoided this fate—unless driven by insatiable hunger (scratch that).

Of course, in some ways, this might be a good outcome for the Shellder?

After evolving into Slowbro, it would no longer hunt or struggle to survive, instead waking daily to savor sweet secretions from Slowbro’s tail.

“Slow.”

I simply explained the situation.

Perhaps because evolution neared, Slowpoke shed its usual vacant demeanor.

The act was no longer necessary.

“…Alright.”

Noticing Slowpoke’s disinterest in conversation, Natsume stepped back to give it space.

The Slowpoke, adorned with the King’s Rock, glanced at the Shellder at its feet.

“Slow?”

Do you have any last wishes?

The Shellder shook its head calmly.

It had none.

Even before drifting to the farm’s lake and meeting Slowpoke, its days had been meaningless: eating seaweed, hiding, sleeping—an endless cycle of survival for survival’s sake.

Now, at least, it had found purpose.

“Slow.”

Then let us evolve.

Slowpoke lowered its head, offering it to the Shellder—a gesture that left it visibly uneasy.

This felt like surrendering its life to another creature.

Uncomfortable.

CRACK!

Without hesitation, the Shellder clamped onto Slowpoke’s head.

In the next instant, evolution’s radiant light erupted—

Natsume’s second evolution witnessed that day.

No matter how often seen, this brilliance never lost its awe.

Perhaps this is life’s true miracle.

Within the light, Slowpoke’s face flickered with rare excitement.

It had waited so long for this moment.

Finally… evolution!

Memories surged—

Slowpoke had always been unusual.

It knew this well.

While others in its tribe mindlessly fished with their tails by the lake, it had pondered its future.

But it hadn’t always been special.

Once, it was just another Slowpoke in the herd, waking daily to scavenge berries, following the crowd, its mind a fog.

That era was one it preferred to forget—not because of its peers, but because it couldn’t bear remembering its own past idiocy.

Like humans cringing at their teenage selves, it refused to revisit those “dark ages.”

Everything changed one midnight.

Hunger drove it into a canyon, where Psychic-types gathered—

Lunatone and Solrock most numerous.

Bathed in moonlight, they performed an eerie ritual, as if summoned by unseen forces.

In the canyon’s heart, Grumpig danced strangely, Meowstic chanted, Musharna exhaled pink mist.

Sigilyph guarded the rite, while Reuniclus ferried materials.

Under the guidance of Lunatone and Solrock, moonlight and other unseen forces coalesced into nearly tangible rays of light, funneling into a gemstone at the valley’s heart.

All proceeded orderly—

until the brainless Slowpoke blundered in.

Uncomprehending, it spotted berries and lunged. Under the hollow gazes of the Psychic horde, it devoured a berry and kicked aside a frozen Reuniclus blocking its path.

Then…

It remembered little.

Only that the ritual spiraled out of control.

Agony seared its body—as if bursting.

Something flooded into it; something else drained out.

Warmth spread—Blood, it realized belatedly.

Am I dying?

That was its final thought before darkness took it.

Yet upon waking, it lay unharmed by a mirror-clear lake.

“Slow?”

Confused, it discovered newfound Psychic power: a crushing telekinetic force erupting at will—

uncontrollable, destructive.

Attempting to pluck a berry obliterated the entire tree. As it rampaged, a breeze stirred.

A small Pokémon emerged from the lake—a gray-bodied, red-gemmed creature resembling a mythic lake sprite.

“Slow?”

Who are you?

Slowpoke tilted its head.

So tiny. Can’t see clearly.

Unleashed Psychic energy surged toward the creature.

Disaster!

Slowpoke panicked but couldn’t stop it—yet the energy dissolved upon contact, vanishing like snow in sunlight.

‘I am Uxie.’

The voice resonated in Slowpoke’s mind.

The floating Uxie drew near.

‘You disrupted a ritual last night. The surge nearly destroyed you.’

‘I brought you here. Now, you’ll learn to control this power.’

Without awaiting consent, Uxie lifted a paw.

Slowpoke floated helplessly into the air, its Psychic abilities inert despite its thrashing.

‘I considered sealing your power until you evolved into Slowking,’ Uxie mused,

‘but teaching you now will save future trouble.’

‘Stay here. You’ll be fed.’

Slowpoke scratched its head. How’d you know I was hungry?

Can you read minds?

Uxie didn’t answer.

(Of course it could.)

Lonely from silence, Uxie began sharing countless tales during their time together.

Thus, Slowpoke pieced together the truth: A Pokémon named Deoxys sought to awaken its kin, hypnotizing Psychic-types to fuel a ritual.

Slowpoke’s interruption—kicking a crucial Reuniclus—combined with Uxie’s clash against Deoxys, had funneled the ritual’s energy into Slowpoke.

Uxie’s ally had barely stabilized it.

In the end, Deoxys’s rage forced Uxie to flee with help from friends.

The hypnotized Psychic-types remained in the energy-rich canyon—a minor paradise for their kind.

Through Uxie, Slowpoke’s intelligence grew.

So itchy… feels like I’m growing a brain.

Life was peaceful, idyllic.

Slowpoke cherished it.

Uxie once described its possible evolutions: four forms, including regional variants—a promising future.

Slowpoke resolved to become Slowking: not just for its latent power, but because Uxie called it the wisest form.

Uxie is wise. I want to be like Uxie.

It had come to view Uxie as a dear friend.

But one day, tranquility shattered. Uxie urgently spouted incomprehensible words, sealed Slowpoke’s unstable power, and flung it far away, saying, ‘The seal breaks upon evolution.’

Slowpoke tried returning, but found only scorched earth—cracked ground, dried lake.

After a month, it accepted Uxie’s absence.

Leaving a crude marker of stones and twigs, it embarked on a journey, seeking Uxie while chasing evolution.

Along the way, it met a homeless Mudkip—a tiny refugee. Slowpoke took it in, mirroring Uxie’s kindness. Later, they encountered a human:

“Hello. I’m Natsume, the owner of this farm.”

Initially, it planned to leave Mudkip at the farm and resume its quest alone.

But circumstances—and Mudkip’s attachment—kept it there.

Guess I’ve grown attached too.

Besides, wandering aimlessly seemed futile.

Maybe this human, Natsume, can help.

When Natsume later discussed evolution, Slowpoke doubted he’d procure the rare King’s Rock—yet he did.

Now, as the evolution glow faded,

Natsume’s voice rang out:

“Congratulations… Slowking.”

Eyes opened, Slowking made its grand debut.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

After evolution, Slowking looked quite different from before.

It now stood on two legs, with an orange-and-white umbrella-like structure around its neck and its hands clasped behind its back, giving off the air of a supervising leader.

The Shellder on its head had its eyes on the back, near the base of Slowking’s skull, while a red gem adorned the front.

If pre-evolution Slowpoke was the type that seemed clueless and foolish to everyone, post-evolution Slowking was the type that seemed to regard everyone else as fools.

After all, research showed that evolved Slowpoke possessed intelligence rivaling that of top human scientists.

It also boasted extraordinary wisdom and creativity.

Many leading scholars in various fields today had Slowking as partners.

Whether battling as a trainer’s Pokémon, managing industries, or conducting scientific research, Slowking excelled. However, owning a Slowking came with a downside: daily intellectual disdain.

Not directed at any one person—Slowking disdained everyone equally.

“Slow.”

Its cry now carried a sense of gravitas, like a wise sage brimming with knowledge.

In ancient tribes, Slowking was indeed revered as a prophet—though Slowking itself disliked such treatment.

After all, being seen as a prophet by a bunch of monkeys wasn’t exactly flattering (scratch that).

“Congratulations, Slowking.”

Natsume offered his congratulations, to which Slowking responded with a nod before closing its eyes again.

It focused inward, sensing the power within.

Its hands, previously behind its back, now extended forward as an overwhelming surge of psychic energy erupted.

Even pure Psychic-types specializing in mental power would find this staggering. The energy manifested as a visible blue glow, enveloping the farm in an instant.

Under this power, every corner of the farm became clear to Slowking’s “vision.”

The training Shiny Furret, the Corviknight hiding figurines in its room, the Tidy Up-loving Cinccino, and… a Zorua floating in the living room, eating chips and reading manga?

What the heck is that?

Before Slowking could figure out this peculiar Zorua, another Pokémon appeared before it.

“Gallade!”

Radiating a sharp aura unlike its usual calm, Gallade’s arm glowed with the light of Sacred Sword, ready to strike at the first sign of hostility.

Its raised arm paused upon seeing Natsume.

This brief hesitation gave Gallade time to assess the situation.

Hmm, Natsume and a bipedal Slowpoke.

Is this the evolved form of that Slowpoke?

What’s that on its head?

A seashell? Isn’t that going to cause neck problems?

And what’s that around its neck?

A lifebuoy? A bib? An Elizabethan collar?

In that brief moment, countless questions flooded Gallade’s mind. But one thing was clear: this Pokémon wasn’t an enemy.

After all, it hadn’t restrained Natsume with Psychic power, nor had Natsume beaten it to a pulp.

So, peaceful coexistence?

With that thought, Gallade’s sharp aura softened slightly.

But the glow of Sacred Sword remained, ready to slice this pink creature into sashimi and serve it in its own shell at the first sign of trouble.

“Relax, Gallade. This is Slowking.”

Seizing the moment, Natsume quickly explained.

As he spoke, Gardevoir teleported to his side, and a small gray fox emerged from the bushes.

Natsume took the opportunity to explain to all three.

After hearing the explanation, the Pokémon relaxed—except Zorua, who had been relaxed from the start.

Gallade dispelled the glow from its arm.

Still, this guy’s Psychic power is insane. Is it some Legendary or Mythical Pokémon pretending to be ordinary?

Gallade couldn’t help but suspect, given how absurd it sounded—though not entirely unprecedented.

Not my problem, though.

Shaking its head, Gallade returned to its usual lazy demeanor.

“Gardevoir.”

Got it.

I’ll head back to training now.

With a nod to Natsume, Gardevoir teleported back to the small workshop.

Natsume had since moved his workspace next to the new house, leaving the old one for Gardevoir to practice making Pokéblocks.

Yes, Gardevoir was learning to make Pokéblocks from Natsume. That way, it could make its favorite flavors whenever it wanted. Gardevoir claimed it was to help Natsume share the workload.

Natsume was fine with Gardevoir using the workshop, especially since he’d asked Butterfree to keep an eye on things.

“Slow.”

After Gallade and Gardevoir left, Slowking opened its eyes.

It had already adapted to its new power.

After all, this energy had always been within it, and it had practiced controlling it under Uxie’s guidance.

Now, with evolution, it had fully mastered it.

The delay was due to a message from Uxie that surfaced alongside the unsealed power.

After digesting the message, Slowking fell silent for a moment before refocusing.

“Slow.”

Natsume, can you assign me some tasks?

Managing the farm or handling accounts—anything’s fine.

Hands still behind its back, Slowking glanced at the Zorua playfully crouching at Natsume’s feet before asking softly.

Despite the immense power it had gained, Slowking’s demeanor seemed unchanged—at least on the surface.

“Sure. I’ve been feeling a bit overwhelmed managing the farm lately.”

“I’ll be counting on you, Slowking.”

Natsume agreed without hesitation. He trusted Slowking to handle farm management.

“Slow.”

Don’t worry, Natsume.

With a slight bow, Slowking’s tone remained as calm as ever.

Uxie, it seems I’ll be staying here for a long time.

I hope the next time we meet, I’ll surprise you.

Chapter Text

After evolving, Slowking felt as if a switch in its brain had been flipped.

Its thoughts were much clearer, and its reactions were noticeably faster. It was as if a foggy pane of frosted glass had been replaced with a perfectly clear one. Everything in its vision became sharp and distinct.

This newfound clarity also allowed Slowking to perceive things it couldn’t before.

Take that clearly abnormal Zorua, for instance—no need to mention its oddities further.

Then there was that Ogerpon that came by today, a Pokémon that seemed incredibly powerful.

What’s more, there was a faint sense of something about Ogerpon that resembled Uxie, which left Slowking with a favorable impression of it, even though Ogerpon didn’t yet know Slowking personally.

And then there was… the one standing right before it.

Slowking’s signature “everyone looks like an idiot to me” gaze locked onto the cat-like glare of a Pokémon with an air of feline superiority—one that naturally regarded everyone else as beneath it.

For a brief moment, neither Slowking nor the Persian said a word.

It felt like the two were engaged in some sort of staring contest.

Finally, Slowking broke the silence.

“Slow.”

“Meow.”

The tension between the two Pokémon quickly dissipated as Slowking took the initiative to speak.

The two began chatting away, utterly ignoring the humans around them.

Their conversation? It was mostly mutual praise: “I’ll be counting on you in the future,” “No, no, I should be saying that to you,” and other such trivialities.

Nothing of much substance, honestly.

Afterward, Slowking turned to look at Natsume beside it.

Since Natsume had said he’d help familiarize Slowking with the farm’s management, they were currently doing a tour of the area. Slowking listened intently as Natsume explained the key points to running the farm.

Managing a farm was a first for Slowking, so it figured it had better take the time to learn.

Naturally, that also meant interacting with the other Pokémon on the farm.

The ones it had seen so far hadn’t made much of an impression on it.

To be fair, they were all ordinary Pokémon, nothing particularly remarkable. Even the shiny Pokémon were treated by Slowking with a calm indifference.

That was, until it saw Persian.

Hold on a second.

Is this Persian even legal?

Slowking, whose evolved form had left it feeling a little self-important, suddenly felt grounded as it laid eyes on Persian.

Just looking at Persian’s stance, it was obvious how absurdly strong it was.

It wasn’t joking.

At first glance, Slowking didn’t think much of Persian.

“Oh, just a normal Pokémon,” it thought. Persian—a second-stage evolution, Normal-type. Nothing flashy about it.

Sure, it was fast, but its other attributes…

Average. Even as a high-speed attacker, it would struggle to excel.

Its move pool was decent, offering good coverage, but it lacked a defining, decisive move.

That was Slowking’s initial assessment.

As such, it didn’t pay Persian much attention at first.

It only gave Persian a second glance because it happened to be Natsume’s earliest companion.

And then, Slowking noticed something was off.

Wait a minute.

This Persian… doesn’t feel entirely legal.

Through its psychic perception, Slowking became certain that, purely in terms of physical condition, Persian was unparalleled among the Pokémon on the farm.

Even Ogerpon might only barely hold its own in a contest of strength.

Seriously, is this Persian even legal?

“You’re the last Pokémon qualified to say that,” Natsume remarked.

Slowking glanced at Natsume, feeling wronged.

It wasn’t wrong—Water/Psychic-type Pokémon or not, its psychic powers were leagues beyond anything Natsume had ever encountered.

The moment it evolved, its mental energy expanded to cover the entire farm.

You’re the least “legal” one here, okay?

As for Persian?

Having followed Natsume for over a decade, Persian had been fed a variety of Pokéblocks for just as long.

This included the highly experimental batches Natsume made during his “edgy” phase when he aspired to become the world’s greatest Pokéblock craftsman.

Under such nurturing conditions, wasn’t it only natural for Persian to be incredibly strong?

“Yadon.”

No way. This thing isn’t just strong—it’s downright terrifying.

Its HP and SP stats are off the charts.

While replying to Natsume, Slowking absentmindedly scrolled through information on its phone.

It was studying human knowledge.

Based on something it just read online, this Persian was like a character from a martial arts comic.

It had abandoned fancy techniques and special moves, focusing instead on building up raw strength and endurance—maxing out its HP and SP bars, then relying on basic attacks and sheer willpower.

“Yadon?”

Slowking’s fingers froze mid-scroll as it raised its head to glance toward the farm’s entrance.

“What is it, Slowking?”

Natsume, who had been explaining details about the berry grove, looked at Slowking curiously.

He couldn’t figure out what was on its mind now.

Honestly, Natsume missed the pre-evolution Slowpoke. It had been much cuter.

Now, after evolving, Slowking was distinctly less adorable.

Worse, it kept asking questions he couldn’t answer.

Like:
“What’s the meaning of life?”

“How do you survive the heat of the Big Bang?”

“Why are human preferences so bizarre and varied?”

“Could a nuclear explosion perfectly cook a pizza in a specific spot?”

“Do dogs think they’ve met a cop when they see a police dog?”

Natsume couldn’t answer a single one.

It felt like Slowking was constantly exposing the gaps in his knowledge.

“Slow.”

Slowking’s psychic senses picked up someone approaching the farm.

It’s a visitor—a very cute girl.

Scratching its chin, Slowking casually mentioned this while wondering if it should create a forum account for itself.

Sure, it could use telepathy—and now, after evolving, it was getting pretty good at it too.

But telepathy required effort, and since Natsume understood its speech just fine, Slowking didn’t see the point in overexerting itself.

Yes, Slowking had quickly embraced Natsume’s philosophy of “Why use your brain if you can let it rust?”

Doubt! Understand! Transcend!

“A girl?”

“Oh, it’s Mei.”

Mei had mentioned earlier that she’d be coming to train at Natsume’s farm for a while.

“Slow?”

Do you need me to come with you?

Are you sure you won’t get nervous?

Slowking looked at Natsume with concern.

Based on what it had read online, boys like Natsume—who had never dated, had few female friends, and small social circles—tended to get nervous around girls.

They were also easily manipulated by them.

Just look at Denji from Chainsaw Man.

Slowking worried that its new trainer might get deceived by a bad woman.

“I’ll be fine. But if you’re really that worried, you can come along.”

Natsume couldn’t help but laugh at Slowking’s concern.

What kind of image do you have of me, anyway?

“Slow?”

A shy, innocent country boy who blushes when talking to girls?

The type you’d see in manga, with an untainted smile unspoiled by knowledge?

“You’re overthinking it.”

“Slow.”

I think it fits pretty well.

Meanwhile, Mei was at the farm’s entrance, chatting with a Servine.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

"Servine, this is where we'll be staying for a while," Mei said, pulling her small suitcase and looking at the farm before her with a mix of nostalgia and surprise.

It hadn’t been that long since she’d left, yet the farm seemed to have undergone significant changes. Even from this distance, she could spot Wooloo and Mareep leisurely wandering around.

Overhead, a shiny golden Pidgeotto soared, leading a flock of Pidgey and other Pidgeotto.

The last time Mei had visited, the Mightyena family was just the parents and three rambunctious Poochyena pups. Now, the pups had all grown into Mightyena themselves, with two clearly inheriting their father’s chaotic, husky-like demeanor.

"Hmph."

The Servine at Mei's feet crossed its arms, wearing a sullen expression. Ever since its loss during a gym battle, it had been sulking.

It wasn't just the loss that stung—it was also realizing that the carefully crafted taunts it had prepared for the enemy were ineffective.

To be fair, Mei had always shielded her Servine from harsh realities. As a result, it had little experience with biting comebacks. Its attempts at "trash talk" were more like harmless remarks compared to the razor-sharp retorts of Pokémon like Corviknight.

This realization had fueled Servine's resolve. It was determined to seek out that foul-mouthed "junkyard bird" for guidance.

Not that it liked the bird or anything—this was purely a practical decision. For the time being, it begrudgingly decided to view Corviknight as a fellow Pokémon rather than the annoyance it usually considered it.

"Let me call Natsume and let him know we've arrived," Mei said, pulling out her phone with a sly smile.

She messaged Natsume every day, so by all logic, he should’ve known she was coming today. However, Mei had kept her actual arrival date a secret, planning to surprise him.

"Hmph," Servine huffed, choosing not to comment on her antics.

The call connected, but before Mei could hear Natsume's voice, a peculiar ringtone echoed nearby.

"Ribbit-ribbit-ribbit…"

A bizarre, almost comically absurd sound rang out. Looking up, Mei saw Natsume standing right in front of her, with a Slowking by his side.

"Natsume!"

"Long time no see, Mei."

"Can’t you please change that ringtone?" Mei asked, exasperation evident in her tone.

She had wanted to complain about it for ages. The "music" wasn’t music at all—it sounded like a frog being pummeled.

For all his qualities, Mei found Natsume’s taste in certain things—like his ringtone and even his fashion choices—utterly baffling.

"Let’s move on from the ringtone topic," Natsume said, swiftly deflecting.

"You’re not even letting me start, huh?" Mei sighed, realizing there was no point in pressing the matter.

"This is Slowking," Natsume introduced, gesturing to the Pokémon beside him. "Mei, meet our farm’s new overseer. During training sessions, Slowking will be helping out."

"Slowking," Mei greeted politely, her thoughts spinning. Was this the same Slowpoke she’d seen lounging by the lake last time?

'Good day, Miss Mei. I’m the boss’s newest underling,' a voice suddenly echoed in Mei’s mind, startling her.

"Huh?" Mei froze for a moment before responding, "Ah, hello, Slowking. I look forward to working with you!"

She quickly masked her surprise. When did this Slowpoke evolve? And since when could it use telepathy?

More importantly, underling? Why did that sound like something out of a mafia movie?

Mei had heard plenty of stories about the farm from Natsume during their nightly chats. She felt like she was playing a "cloud farming" game, enjoying the vicarious experience of managing a farm while traveling.

But this Slowking seemed… extraordinary. Telepathy and Teleport? That sounded a bit too overpowered for a Slowking.

Before Mei could dwell on it further, Natsume spoke.

"Come on, I’ll show you to your room," he offered, hesitating slightly before reaching out for her suitcase. Wasn’t it standard for guys to help with this sort of thing?

Not having much experience in relationships, Natsume’s knowledge mostly came from online advice—which, as everyone knows, often ranges from terrible to downright ridiculous.

"Ah, thank you," Mei said after a moment’s hesitation, handing over the suitcase.

She wasn’t one to fuss about these things, but since Natsume had offered, it wouldn’t be polite to refuse.

As the two walked ahead, chatting and laughing, Servine and Slowking trailed behind them.

"Slow," Slowking mused. "Ah, youth. Such a sweet time in life. Is this what young love looks like?"

For someone who had only recently evolved, Slowking sure sounded like an old soul.

Chapter Text

The room Natsume prepared for Mei was on the second floor of the new house. Natsume himself usually stayed on the second floor, while the first floor was mostly reserved for the Pokémon on the farm to use as a lounge and recreation area.

There was a playroom for Togepi, a screening room for Corviknight and Butterfree, and so on. Natsume had even thought about setting up an esports room in the future if more Pokémon joined the farm.

After all, while he wasn’t good at gaming himself, he figured that with so many Pokémon around, at least one of them had to be skilled.

Yes, Natsume’s gaming skills were quite poor.

His level of proficiency was such that even a Golem might outperform him in understanding the mechanics. Gaming, like many things, required a certain degree of talent.

If the average person’s talent level was a 10, and professional players were at 60 and above, Natsume’s talent hovered somewhere around a 5. He had long since given up on making any notable progress in gaming and now just played casually to relax.

After all, wasn’t that the whole point of gaming? If you obsessed over ranks and stats, wouldn’t that strip the activity of its original purpose? Or so Natsume, the subpar gamer, liked to reason.

“Wow, this room is huge!”

“Thank you so much, Natsume.”

Mei’s eyes lit up as she saw her new room.

As a novice Trainer, Mei was already used to roughing it out in the wild—sleeping in a cramped tent was an everyday affair. Only those Trainers who had already made a name for themselves could afford the luxury of staying in grand hotels and enjoying a life of comfort.

New Trainers, in contrast, would spend most of their time camping out in the wilderness, catching Pokémon, and honing their skills. This was said to cultivate both mental and physical resilience.

Well, at least that’s how the story went. Whether or not this claim had any basis was debatable, but it served as a convenient justification.

It was not unlike how middle school teachers would tell students, “This topic will be covered in high school,” and high school teachers would say, “You should have learned this in middle school.” They didn’t know for sure whether anyone would actually teach it but said it anyway to save themselves the trouble.

Returning to the topic, while Mei had grown accustomed to sleeping in tiny tents, no one would ever turn down a larger room if given the choice—especially one so clean and cozy.

Thanks to the diligent efforts of Cinccino and Loppuny, the guest room was in excellent condition. In anticipation of Mei’s arrival, they had gone the extra mile to ensure everything was spotless, even replacing the bedsheets and blankets with fresh ones.

Incidentally, Natsume had already decided to permanently give Mei this guest room. If another guest room was needed in the future, they could simply clean and prepare another space. After all, land was one thing the farm had in abundance.

“No need to thank me. As long as you like it,” Natsume replied with a wave and a smile.

When setting up the room, Natsume had done his research, reading countless online posts for inspiration. After all, he knew nothing about decorating a girl’s room.

In terms of understanding romance and girls, Natsume was about on par with Ash Ketchum.

He had put a lot of thought into the room’s design, but in the end, it turned out fairly basic. Natsume figured it was better this way—he left room for Mei to decorate the space as she saw fit after moving in.

After helping Mei unpack, Natsume took her on a tour of the farm. Although they had talked about doing special training, there was no rush. It was better to take the first day to relax and unwind after her long journey.

Even if Mei insisted on starting right away, Natsume would have found a way to convince her to rest for the day.

As they unpacked, Mei released her three other Pokémon from their Poké Balls.

“Tepig, Dewott, don’t wander too far,” she cautioned.

She didn’t add the part about them getting into trouble, but Mei was acutely aware that few Pokémon on this farm were what one might call "normal."

Take Corviknight, for instance. Since evolving, it had developed a fondness for sparring with weaker opponents, relishing the thrill of overpowering them.

Then there was the previously adorable shiny Furret, which had turned into a training fanatic. If it encountered a new Pokémon, it might very well issue a challenge and go all out in battle.

As for Steenee, it immediately dashed off to reunite with its old tribe. Mei could understand the feeling—it was only natural to miss one’s family after being away for so long.

Of course, there was also the possibility that Steenee just wanted to show off its newfound strength. After all, it had long noticed how the rest of its tribe had grown complacent, enjoying a laid-back life on the farm—eating, sleeping, and occasionally providing juice for Natsume.

That kind of life wasn’t for Steenee. It had always felt there was something off about it, which is why it had decisively left with Mei in the first place.

Now, three months later, it was time for the Dragon King’s triumphant return!

Smirking arrogantly, Steenee radiated an air of dominance, as if ready to unleash a barrage of dramatic comebacks and commands.

Meanwhile, Dewott had found its own target.

“Hmm?”

It locked eyes with Gallade, who was leisurely fishing by the lake.

This guy is strong.

Dewott could sense the aura of a fellow swordsman emanating from Gallade.

My blades are itching for a fight.

However, remembering Mei’s insistence on a day of rest, Dewott reluctantly suppressed its excitement. Tomorrow, it thought. Tomorrow, I’ll challenge that Gallade.

As for Tepig, it had no immediate goals—there weren’t any strong Fire-type Pokémon on the farm for it to seek out.

“This area will be designated as the pasture in the future,” Natsume explained as they strolled.

“Right now, the Mightyena family and Yamper help manage it, with Gallade occasionally pitching in.”

Although Mei had already learned about the farm through Natsume’s descriptions and photos, seeing it in person was an entirely different experience.

---

That night, Mei lay in her soft bed, hugging her Servine as she tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep.

“Servine...”

Servine stretched out its tiny arms, pushing against Mei’s face in irritation, its displeasure written all over its face.

“Ah, sorry, Servine,” Mei said sheepishly. “We need to get some sleep. Training starts tomorrow.”

“Servine...”

Then let me go already!

And so, Mei’s first night on the farm quietly came to an end.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

The next morning, Mei slowly opened her eyes, half-buried in a soft, oversized pillow.

She’d stayed up late last night, brimming with inexplicable excitement, and by the time she realized she should sleep, the wave of drowsiness hit her all at once. In an instant, she was swallowed by the tide of sleep.

“Mmm, what a good sleep,” Mei murmured, sitting up groggily. She rubbed her face haphazardly, her long hair sticking messily to her cheeks.

Before going to bed, Mei had made an effort to tidy her hair properly. However, her restless tossing and turning had undone all her work, leaving her in her current disheveled state.

“Servine...”

Lying belly-up on the bed, Servine rolled over, burying its face into the pillow. It was far too comfortable to even think about getting up.

“Oh, right, this is the farm,” Mei muttered, still half-dazed, sitting on the bed in a stupor before finally realizing she was at Natsume’s farm.

She hadn’t slept this well in ages, and for a moment, she’d forgotten where she was.

On the floor by the bed, Tepig and Dewott were still sound asleep. Dewott lay with its arms crossed in a pose resembling a down-and-out swordsman, though its utterly peaceful expression and the telltale glimmer of drool at the corner of its mouth betrayed it.

A would-be hero... but still just a child.

As for Steenee?

The Pokémon was asleep on the table, for some strange reason. Despite having a bed and a cozy little nest, it stubbornly insisted on sleeping on the hard tabletop.

“Time to get up,” Mei said, slapping her cheeks lightly to wake herself.

Her bare feet touched the soft carpet as she tiptoed carefully around Tepig and Dewott, doing her best not to make a sound and wake her Pokémon partners.

On the bed, Servine stirred at the sound of Mei getting up. The Grass Snake Pokémon struggled to open its eyes, wobbling and tumbling off the bed in an attempt to follow her to the bathroom.

It nearly face-planted onto the floor—if not for Mei catching it in time.

Otherwise, poor Tepig might have suffered a rude awakening via a falling Servine.

You dodged a critical hit there.

Thankfully, the guest room had its own en suite bathroom, sparing Mei from any awkward early-morning encounters.

Those classic light-novel scenarios? They weren’t happening here.

After all, neither Mei nor Natsume had the “trip over nothing” skill unlocked. And no one had the bizarre habit of running around in their underwear.

Who even does that, anyway? This isn’t a diving club or something.

“Fully recharged!”

Freshly washed and groomed, Mei gave herself a satisfied nod in the mirror.

Dressed in her usual sporty attire—short-sleeved top, skirt, and...

...black tights and sneakers?

It was a bit of a puzzling combination.

(A quick side note: pairing black tights with sneakers often results in... less-than-pleasant foot odor. Fans of such a look? Definitely the niche crowd.)

“Snort, snort!”

An energized Tepig darted around the room, exploring every corner with boundless curiosity.

Though it had already scouted the room the previous night, its enthusiasm remained undiminished.

Meanwhile, Dewott and Servine donned their usual aloof expressions, as if trying to distance themselves from any association with drooling in their sleep or nearly face-planting.

“Alright, everyone, today marks the start of our special training!”

“Tepig!”

“Steenee!”

Unlike the stoic duo, Tepig and Steenee were full of excitement.

Tepig’s eagerness stemmed from its naturally lively personality and insatiable curiosity.

As for Steenee...

It was motivated by revenge.

Yes, revenge.

Last night, Mei’s Steenee had proudly returned to its old group, brimming with confidence after countless battles and grueling training sessions.

Surely, with all it had endured, it would now be the strongest in the group.

After all, back then, even the “big sister” of the group hadn’t been as strong as Steenee was now.

Steenee had imagined showing off its growth, shocking everyone with a dazzling display of strength.

Instead, it got spanked by the group leader.

The so-called "Dragon King’s Return" ended in a crushing defeat at the hands of some random street thug.

The sheer humiliation!

Why?

Steenee couldn’t comprehend it.

But no matter!

“I’ll train harder than ever and surpass her one day!” Mei’s Steenee resolved.

---

“Good morning, Natsume!”

Coming downstairs, Mei caught sight of Natsume placing breakfast on the table.

Living alone for so long, Natsume had picked up some cooking skills over the years. While he wasn’t exactly a master chef, his meals were decent enough—and definitely not life-threatening.

“Morning, Mei. Just in time—breakfast’s ready. Come eat,” Natsume said as he tidied up the kitchen and took off his apron.

He’d even considered asking Gardevoir to go wake Mei earlier.

“Thanks! I’ll dig in, then. Oh, and I’ll do the dishes after, no arguments! Otherwise, I’ll feel bad,” Mei said cheerfully, clasping her hands behind her back as she leaned closer to Natsume.

For a fleeting moment, it felt as though a gentle breeze carried her fragrance toward him.

...Except there wasn’t one.

Mei didn’t have any noticeable scent—certainly not the kind that cosmetics or perfumes might provide.

She’d mentioned before that she never paid much attention to skincare or beauty products, yet her skin had always been flawless.

A statement that would likely spark envy among many girls.

After a simple yet hearty breakfast, Mei couldn’t contain her excitement any longer.

She eagerly requested to begin the day’s special training.

Despite Natsume’s repeated claims that he wasn’t particularly skilled at training Pokémon, Mei merely dismissed his modesty as humility.

After all, every Pokémon on the farm seemed anything but ordinary.

Not to mention Natsume’s own “main team.”

From Persian, Butterfree, and Corviknight to Slowking and even the Steenee tribe leader that had overpowered her own Steenee—every one of them was exceptional.

“Alright, alright,” Natsume clapped his hands, stepping toward the window.

“Furret! You’re up!”

Before Mei could process what “you’re up” meant, an oversized Shiny Furret barreled into the living room with boundless energy.

“Furrrrret!”

Coach Furret reporting for duty! Who needs training?

Seeing the determined look on the Shiny Furret’s face, Mei suddenly had a strange, indescribable feeling.

It seemed... her Servine and the others weren’t in for an easy time.

Chapter Text

“Fur fur!!”

Run, run, run!!

“Furret!!”

Keep running!!

On the open field, a shiny Furret led a group of Furret and Sentret in a chaotic sprint, yelling out strange slogans about “youth” and “bonds” that nobody else in the farm quite understood.

The Furret pack ran like it was some sort of competition, with no care for keeping formation. If one of them fell, no one stopped; the fallen simply scrambled to their feet and continued the chase, eyes locked on the figure ahead.

“Servine…”

At the tail end of the pack, Servine struggled to keep up, gasping for breath. Its body was drenched in sweat, as if it had just been fished out of a river.

And it wasn’t just Servine—Tepig, Dewott, and Steenee were all putting every ounce of energy into staying in the race.

At first, they had felt confident, thinking, This training isn’t so bad after all.

But as their stamina drained away, they naturally fell to the back of the pack. Now, they weren’t even close to catching up with the shiny Furret. Just keeping pace with the “reckless runners” was taking everything they had.

Do these guys never get tired?! Servine thought bitterly, glaring at the energetic Sentret running alongside it.

Half an hour earlier, when Natsume had mentioned that the farm’s Pokémon would serve as the trainers, Servine had been skeptical. Could this kind of training really be effective?

After all, if Pokémon could train themselves, what was the point of trainers? Were they just there to sign up Pokémon for competitions?

The truth was, one reason Pokémon chose to partner with human trainers was because trainers helped them grow stronger. If Pokémon could achieve that on their own, why would they bother getting captured? For fame and glory? Don’t make me laugh.

But now, just thirty minutes into this training, Servine’s perspective had completely shifted.

Running with this group, one thing became clear: At the very least, my stamina is definitely going to improve.

No matter what kind of base stats or strategies a Pokémon had, stamina was the foundation. You could have the most brilliant tactics in the world, but without the endurance to execute them, it was pointless. Even high-burst attackers like Weavile needed enough stamina to set up and strike decisively. If a Pokémon was too exhausted to take a hit, no strategy could save them.

“Phew…”

Tepig, the weakest of the bunch in terms of stamina, felt like it was teetering on the edge of collapse. Its vision began to blur, and it thought it saw a river ahead. On the far bank, something seemed to be waving at it…

“Slow…”

Standing on the sidelines, Slowking lazily opened its eyes.

With a casual wave of its hand, a surge of psychic energy caught the stumbling Tepig, gently laying it down beside the Slowking.

“Slow…”

Your stamina is terrible, Slowking muttered, scratching the back of its head in mild annoyance as it looked at the utterly spent Tepig.

Dressed like a proper coach, Slowking held a tactics board in one hand and a pen in the other, occasionally jotting down notes. After recording Tepig’s training results, it tossed the board and pen into the air, where its psychic energy kept them floating.

It rummaged through a nearby box, eventually pulling out a few vials of medicine and a bag of Pokéblocks.

Technically, the vials were just energy supplements, similar to glucose but more effective.

“Slow…”

After giving Tepig the medicine and setting it aside, Slowking continued its coaching duties.

Natsume had promised to prepare more Psychic-type Pokéblocks soon, even developing a custom recipe tailored specifically for Slowking.

Champions and Elite Four Pokémon have entire teams of experts collecting data and designing Pokéblocks for them, Slowking mused. And now I’m getting the same treatment? That’s amazing.

I have to work hard to repay Natsume’s efforts.

(Though, to be fair, the Pokéblocks are still in the “concept stage”… whispered a tiny voice in Slowking’s head.)

As it reminisced, Slowking casually caught the collapsing Steenee with its psychic power.

“Slow…”

It’s good to push yourself, but you need to know your limits.

Its immense psychic power allowed Slowking to multitask effortlessly, keeping tabs on Servine and the others without even glancing up.

“Servine!”

Compared to Tepig and Steenee, Servine and Dewott were performing significantly better. Though they were straining at the back of the pack, they hadn’t fallen behind completely.

Which made sense. While Servine and the others were battle-oriented Pokémon trained by a human trainer, their practice time was limited.

In the wild, they had to stay alert and cautious, never able to train at full intensity.

In cities, time spent outside their Poké Balls was restricted, and training facilities had time limits. All these factors meant they could never train as much as they wanted.

How could they compare to this group of Pokémon, who spent all day running wild on the farm?

Someone who occasionally jogged for fitness couldn’t hope to match someone surviving on a deserted island. They were on completely different levels.

“Slow…”

Alright, time for a break. Lunch is ready, Slowking called out, pulling a pocket watch from behind its back.

(Why a pocket watch? Because it’s stylish, obviously.)

The watch was something Natsume had bought during his edgy teenage years, thinking it looked cool. After sitting in a drawer collecting dust, it was finally dug out last night and claimed by Slowking.

“Servine.”

Servine plopped onto the ground, glancing up at Slowking.

This Pokémon… was something else.

Its psychic power was leagues beyond anything Servine had ever seen.

“Servine.”

What’s next on the schedule?

“Slow…”

Trash-talk resistance training, followed by skill and combat drills in the afternoon. Before dinner, more trash-talk resistance. After dinner, free time.

Flipping through its tactics board, Slowking added, Your trash-talk resistance training is pretty interesting. If I knew how to trash-talk, I’d join in myself.

“Servine?”

Is Corviknight in charge of that part?

“Slow…”

Yep. The trash-talking shut-in bird.

“Servine.”

Got it.

Clenching its tiny fists, Servine radiated determination.

This time, I’ll show that bird how much I’ve grown. I’m not the same weak Snivy I used to be!

However…

“Caw?”

Wait, who are you?

Tilting its head, Corviknight stared blankly, its bird face full of confusion.

Snap.

In that instant, something broke inside Servine’s mind.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

On the spacious battlefield, Servine glared furiously at Corviknight, as if itching to tear a chunk of flesh off it.

Meanwhile, Corviknight looked utterly confused.

Wait—why are you mad?

Corviknight genuinely didn’t get it.

From its perspective, all it did was ask a simple question. Then suddenly, this little grass snake just lost its temper.

What’s going on here?

Are you picking a fight with me?

At that thought, Corviknight's eyes sharpened instantly.

Normally, it didn’t care much about trivial things, but provocation? Now, that was unacceptable.

Guess there was no choice but to go all out now.

In a flash, Corviknight had already planned out its victory lines, post-battle poses, and the perfect expression to strike after winning.

As for battle tactics?

Yeah… that was a bit too complicated for Corviknight’s brain.

Back when it was still a Rookidee, it had to think about keeping its distance, kiting opponents, and all that.

But after evolving into Corviknight, its defense skyrocketed, and with it came overwhelming confidence—along with a noticeable drop in strategic thinking.

Now, its battle plan boiled down to one thing: Iron Defense + Brave Bird.

Any remaining brainpower was dedicated to memorizing dramatic catchphrases and yesterday’s anime episodes.

There just wasn’t enough space left in its memory to remember past opponents—whether they were ones it defeated or the rare few that had defeated it.

Corviknight had its own philosophy:

Why bother remembering the ones you already beat? No point in that.

And as for the ones that had beaten it?

Why relive painful memories?

Shouldn’t happiness be the priority in life?

On that, Corviknight felt it had a pretty solid understanding.

"Servine!"

Go ahead and laugh while you can! I'm gonna beat you so bad you won’t even be able to cry!

Servine huffed, trying its best to look intimidating.

Unfortunately, despite its furious expression, it still looked adorable.

Not threatening at all.

"Caw, caw!"

Come at me, all of you. I’m on a schedule.

"Caw, caw, caw!"

Bring as many as you want, it's not gonna change the fact that you’re all first-rate weaklings.

"Caw!"

And after I’m done, make sure to run back to your Trainer and whine about how mean I was.

Before the battle had even started, Corviknight had already turned its trash-talking up to max volume.

This was exactly what Mei had asked of it.

After the Gym Battle, Mei suddenly realized something—forget power levels for a second, her Pokémon were lacking in mental resilience.

This was a common problem for rookie Trainers. They focused entirely on making their Pokémon stronger but overlooked other important factors—willpower, move mastery, and battle awareness.

These were all crucial for a truly strong Pokémon.

Of course, Mei’s request was just a suggestion.

At the end of the day, Corviknight still listened to Natsume.

And Natsume had told it:

"Take it slow. Don’t pressure them too much at the start."

"You’ll break the poor kids."

Corviknight nodded in understanding.

So basically, hold off on the insults for now, right?

Got it.

I completely understand.

"Servine!"

You damn feathered freak! Just wait—I'm gonna pluck you bald!

Fuming, Servine unleashed its moves in rapid succession—Bullet Seed, Magical Leaf, and Vine Whip—all firing at Corviknight one after another.

It tried to remind itself to stay calm, but when emotions ran high, logic wasn’t exactly the first thing that kicked in.

"Caw, caw, caw!!"

Pathetic! Weak! Your attacks are as soft as your vines!

You need me to teach you how to scream like a real warrior?!

With a single powerful flap, Corviknight lifted off, keeping its distance while spamming Iron Defense.

By the time it had stacked five layers of Iron Defense, its physical defense had maxed out.

Even when Servine’s attacks did land, they barely left a scratch.

Now, it was time to turn the tables!

With a mighty beat of its wings, Corviknight revealed its full, imposing form—

Then plummeted from the sky, diving toward Servine like a shadow blotting out the sun.

Under the sheer pressure of Corviknight's descent, Servine froze on the spot.

It wasn’t from any move effect—this was pure, primal fear.

A reaction hardwired into its genes when facing something massively larger than itself.

BOOM!

Corviknight crashed into the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust and debris.

Mei and Natsume’s vision was instantly obscured.

"Servine!"

Mei called out in concern, unable to see through the thick smoke.

"Slow."

Standing at the sidelines in a referee uniform, Slowking nonchalantly raised a hand and waved.

A psychic pulse swept across the field, blowing all the dust away in an instant.

Normally, referees weren’t supposed to interfere, but hey—this was pressure training, not an official match.

When the dust settled, the battlefield became clear once more.

Standing tall, Corviknight folded its wings, while Servine sat on the ground, still visibly shaken.

If that attack had landed, it would’ve been game over.

Was this damn bird trying to kill me?!

"Caw."

Hmph. That’s all you’ve got?

"Caw, caw, caw."

Seems like you forgot one thing—you are the challenger here.

"Servine!"

You bastard!

Servine furiously scrambled to its feet, but its anger was nothing more than powerless frustration.

Truthfully, right before Corviknight had landed, Servine had just managed to break free from its fear and react.

In a desperate move, it threw itself into a roll to the side, barely dodging the full impact of the attack.

Even so, the sheer force of Corviknight’s wing sent it tumbling across the field.

In those final moments, Servine had launched a Leech Seed, Giga Drain, and a Leaf Blade—probably the best Leaf Blade it had ever performed in its life.

And yet—

It didn’t even break through Corviknight’s defenses.

Meanwhile, Corviknight had swatted it aside without even thinking.

That was the reality of their strength difference.

Now, Mei and Natsume could see it clearly.

"Caw."

Alright—who’s next?

Completely ignoring Servine, Corviknight turned its gaze toward Dewott and Steenee at the edge of the battlefield.

As for Tepig?

Yeah, Corviknight didn’t even acknowledge it. That thing was still recovering from the morning’s training.

"Dewott!"

I’ll take you on!

Dewott stepped forward, gripping its scalchops tightly, eyes full of determination.

"Caw, caw!"

Then let me show you just how far apart we are!

Meanwhile, hidden in the bushes at the edge of the battlefield—

A disguised Ralts watched the fight with shining eyes, occasionally jotting down notes in a tiny notebook.

"Lalu, lalu."

So that’s how it works! I completely understand!

Chapter Text

Hidden in the bushes, Ralts cautiously observed the ongoing battle, occasionally jotting something down with a small pencil.

That tiny hand struggled to grip a pencil thicker than its own wrist, scribbling down words that, aside from itself, only Natsume could decipher.

At some point in the past, Ralts had developed a peculiar habit—specifically, it had discovered that trash talk was ridiculously effective.

Not only did it break an opponent’s mental defenses in battle, but it also made itself feel great.

As the saying goes, "Let the curses out, and the heart stays clean."

Ralts deeply agreed with this sentiment.

Every time it watched Corviknight battle, Ralts felt like that was the kind of battle it aspired to.

Unfortunately, its sister didn't approve.

She always warned it to stay away from Corviknight and not to be led astray.

Ralts couldn’t understand why.

But it didn’t matter—I can just watch in secret!

To avoid getting caught by its sister’s “search operations,” Ralts had trained itself to be the second-fastest Teleport user on the farm.

In terms of just Teleport, Ralts was confident it ranked in the top three on the farm.

Even its sister and brother could only eat its dust!

Sensing something, Ralts abruptly closed its notebook.

A brilliant blue glow flashed under its mushroom-like head.

The next moment—Ralts vanished.

Shortly after Ralts disappeared, Gardevoir arrived at the same spot.

She narrowed her eyes and scanned her surroundings.

She was certain her little sister had just been here, secretly watching the battle.

But…

She got away again!!!

Gardevoir slapped her own face, frustration written all over her expression.

Her little sister clearly had a remarkable talent for teleportation.

That kind of talent was supposed to be a good thing—normally, it should be something to celebrate.

But for the love of Arceus, don’t waste it on sneaking around learning that damn couch-potato bird’s trash talk!

At least use it for something productive!

Even delivering food would be better than this!

If she were teleporting food deliveries, maybe—just maybe—Gardevoir could accept it.

(…Okay, no, that would still be bad. But less bad than this.)

“Garde.”

Gardevoir sighed.

A moment later, she teleported away.

Even though she knew the chances were slim, she had to at least try catching that troublemaking little sister.

She couldn’t just stand by and let her go astray.

She also needed to visit that oddball Zorua for lessons soon.

Otherwise… this was getting way too embarrassing.

The moment Gardevoir vanished—poof!—a tiny mushroom-headed figure reappeared in the bushes.

Pencil in hand, Ralts resumed scribbling in its notebook with great focus.

Nothing can stop me from learning trash talk.

Nothing. (shrug)

Meanwhile, in Natsume’s house, a small black fox stealthily nudged open his bedroom door.

“Suo.”

Zorua’s ears flicked as it scanned the room.

After making sure the coast was clear, it leapt onto the desk, pulled open a drawer, and took out a fresh notebook.

Then, with a serious expression, it started writing.

The way it sat—hunched over, scribbling away—made it look less like a Pokémon and more like a little kid.

Everything from its posture to its expression was downright adorable.

“Suo.”

Just as Zorua was writing, a small, hesitant voice spoke up.

Zorua turned its head.

At the doorway, Hisuian Zorua crouched low, gazing at it with reluctant, almost pleading eyes.

“Suo.”

What’s with that look, little bro?

“Suo suo.”

Come on, I’m still right here, aren’t I? I’m not dead, lighten up!

With an effortless hop, Zorua landed on the floor and, in a wise older-brother manner, patted Hisuian Zorua on the shoulder.

“Suo.”

“…I just don’t want you to go.”

Hisuian Zorua mumbled, looking as if it had just been abandoned.

Zorua could only sigh.

Why is this kid so attached to me?

It wasn’t like Zorua was particularly nice to it.

If anything, it was pretty mean most of the time.

Recently, it had barely even acknowledged him.

…Wait.

Was he M?

A weird thought popped into Zorua’s head.

It immediately shook it off.

No. Nope. Can’t go there.

If it let that thought linger, its brain would get contaminated.

Forget it. Forget it.

“Suo.”

Come on, let’s go for a walk.

Without waiting for an answer, Zorua trotted out the door.

Hisuian Zorua followed.

The notebook Zorua had been writing in remained spread open on the desk—until a Lopunny, tidying up the room, discovered it.

---

"Thanks, Lopunny."

Taking the notebook from Lopunny, Natsume chuckled and gave its head a fond pat.

Lopunny happily rubbed against his hand, just like a cat.

As he absentmindedly stroked Lopunny’s fur, Natsume flipped through the notebook.

The handwriting was messy, the letters crooked.

But the message was clear:

Dear Natsu,

By the time you read this, I’ll have already left the farm.

(Oops, forgot the intro. Forgot the middle. Forgot the end. That’s what Anime does to me. (crossed out))

Anyway, I’ll be gone for a while, but don’t worry—I’ll be back soon.

I took the Pokéblocks you stored in the warehouse since they were just sitting there. Consider it helping you clear out inventory. No need to thank me. Doing good deeds without seeking credit—that’s me, the world’s cutest Zorua!

P.S. By the time I’m back, that egg should be hatching. Take good care of it for me!

Love, (crossed out) Suo

After finishing the note, Natsume couldn't help but laugh.

This little brat…

Even when leaving, it had to take some snacks, huh?

And that egg?

It was your egg, you take care of it!

Why had the responsibility somehow shifted to him?

And really—"the world’s cutest Zorua"?

The first half of that sentence was up for debate, but the second half was an outright lie.

Even though he had plenty to complain about, Natsume still took note of the important details.

“Thanks for bringing this to me, Lopunny.”

“Lopunny~” Not a problem, Natsume.

Lopunny hugged his arm before happily hopping away, looking every bit like an energetic little rabbit.

---

Far from the farm, deep in the wilderness, a white Pokémon staggered through the barren hills.

Its breathing was weak.

Its condition—dire.

“Yadon?”

Now dressed in a training bodysuit instead of referee attire, Slowking suddenly looked up.

It had felt something.

Something important—something urgent—in that direction.

***************************
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P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

Slowking paused for a few seconds as it trained Servine, then casually left behind the words, “Train on your own,” before vanishing from sight.

When it reappeared, it was already at the farm’s entrance.

Looking down at the unconscious Pokémon lying on the ground, Slowking fell into deep thought.

What the heck?

Is this some midday scam attempt?

Of course, that thought only flashed through Slowking’s mind for a brief moment.

From the numerous wounds covering the Pokémon’s body, it was clear this guy had been through a lot.

“Yadon.”

Tilting its head, Slowking wondered if it should inform Natsume first.

After all, it was now officially one of Natsume’s subordinates.

No matter what it did, it had to report to the boss first—

That was a rule Slowking had learned from last night’s yakuza novel.

As for the Pokémon on the ground?

It wasn’t going to die immediately, so whatever.

Slowking had always been rather indifferent toward other Pokémon.

To Slowking, all living beings could be categorized into a few groups:

Very important, just okay, and dead or alive, doesn’t matter.

The only Pokémon in the “very important” category were Uxie and Mudkip. Natsume? Maybe half a point.

The “just okay” ones included Pokémon like Persian and Corviknight—relatively close acquaintances.

They didn’t interact much, but at least they recognized each other. If they died, Slowking might feel a bit sentimental.

Everything else? “Dead or alive, doesn’t matter.”

Like this unfamiliar Pokémon in front of it.

And honestly, a lot of Pokémon on the farm fell into that category too.

At best, they were just neighbors.

If your neighbor died, would you really be that upset?

In fact, how often did you even interact with them?

Geniuses in many fictional works were often portrayed as emotionally distant, appearing indifferent to everything around them.

That was inevitable.

With great intelligence came highly logical thought processes, which sometimes made them seem cold.

And as a fully evolved Slowking, its intelligence was no joke.

It surpassed the vast majority of humans and was among the smartest Pokémon in existence.

If this Absol had collapsed somewhere else, Slowking probably would’ve ignored it.

Every second, somewhere in the world, someone was getting hurt. Pokémon were being killed.

Am I supposed to save them all?

Yeah, no.

“Yadon.”

Closing its eyes, Slowking—

Removed the “crown” from its head, reached inside, and pulled out a smartphone before casually placing Shellder back on top.

Did you think Slowking would use its psychic powers to search for Natsume?

Not a chance.

Unless it was an emergency, Slowking wouldn’t bother.

Sure, psychic abilities were convenient. With its mental reach, it could instantly perceive everything happening nearby.

But that was also highly disrespectful.

Think about it—

You’re just a normal high school guy, showering while singing dramatically, admiring your reflection in the mirror, thinking, “Damn, I look good today.”

Meanwhile, an unseen Psychic-type Pokémon is watching you lose your mind.

Now, that’s a social death scenario.

Out of respect for privacy, Slowking generally avoided scanning for people or things unless absolutely necessary.

Besides, modern technology worked just fine.

Why rely on psychic power when you could just use a phone?

Most people wouldn’t even get past bending a spoon in their entire lives. This was something any functioning adult could do.

Pulling up Natsume’s contact, Slowking dialed.

Dooooo... doooooo...

Listening to the odd ringtone from the other end, Slowking’s expression remained neutral.

But internally, it was troubled.

Natsume always had the strangest hobbies and obsessions.

Just yesterday, he was talking about collecting coins.

How was that any different from people who collected bottle caps for necklaces?

Slowking just didn’t get it.

Much like it didn’t understand why Corviknight enjoyed browsing anti-fan forums and internet drama.

Even with its ability to master an entire language overnight, it still couldn’t quite wrap its head around that one.

Slowking preferred the regular forums—

Everyone there was a talent, capable of continuing any conversation no matter how obscure.

Slowking loved that atmosphere.

“What’s up, Slowking?”

“Yadon yadon.”

“Absol? I see. I’ll be right there. Keep an eye on it for me.”

“Yadon.”

Hanging up, Slowking looked down at the unconscious Pokémon.

You just cheated death, Absol.

From the very start, Slowking had recognized this Pokémon—

An Absol, a species that even now was still labeled as a bringer of disaster.

Despite modern research proving Absol were actually gentle Pokémon who could predict calamities and warn humans, old prejudices were hard to change.

Like how, despite being strong enough to take down a pack of wolves, pandas were still seen as cute and weak.

Or how, no matter how much you explain that this character is biologically male, some people will still insist on treating them like a delicate wife who just happens to be infertile.

Yeah, that was another thing Slowking couldn’t understand.

Removing Shellder from its head, Slowking reached inside and pulled out—

A bottle of hyper potion and a bag of Pokéblocks it had planned to eat later.

Looking at the bag of Pokéblocks, Slowking hesitated for a moment—

Then ate half of them itself.

The rest, it crushed with telekinesis and mixed with the healing liquid before feeding it to Absol.

Later, it would have Natsume reimburse it.

Yep, definitely claiming a full bag.

After administering some basic first aid, Slowking waited quietly.

Not even a minute later, Corviknight descended from the sky, carrying Natsume and Mei.

“Caw, caw!”

Skybus Corviknight Airlines has landed!

Oddly enough, despite this being its first time carrying passengers, Corviknight seemed to take to it instinctively.

“Thanks, Slowking.”

“Yadon.”

No problem. Just remember to reimburse me for that bag of Pokéblocks.

“I’ll give you two bags.”

“Yadon.”

Deal.

Stepping off Corviknight, Natsume quickly examined Absol’s condition.

On the surface, the wounds weren’t too severe, and Slowking had already provided some basic treatment.

But still—

Natsume couldn’t help but frown.

“Is something wrong with this Absol?”

Noticing Natsume’s reaction, Mei softly asked after he finished his examination.

“Its injuries… are a little strange.”

***************************
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Chapter Text

At some point during school, everyone has likely encountered a certain type of math problem:

A swimming pool is being filled with water while simultaneously being drained. How long will it take for the pool to be emptied?

The first time Natsume came across this kind of question, he was genuinely curious—just what kind of lunatic would come up with such an irrational scenario that defies normal human logic?

Now, it seemed like he was facing a real-life version of that problem.

“Its injuries are severe, no doubt about that.”

“But more importantly, there’s a strange energy wrapped around it, continuously dragging its condition down.”

To Natsume’s eyes, this Absol was just like that swimming pool—being healed and drained at the same time.

With the combined effects of hyper potion sprays, pokéblocks, and nutrient supplements, its condition shouldn’t be this bad. It might not make a full recovery instantly, but at the very least, it should have regained consciousness by now.

Yet, instead of improving, the Absol’s condition was still deteriorating. Its expression remained twisted in pain, showing no signs of waking up.

“Should we take it to the Pokémon Center in town?”

Mei, feeling a little helpless, suggested the most logical course of action.

After all, none of the Pokémon in her current team had healing abilities, nor did she carry any particularly potent medicine.

She had seen the medicine Slowking used earlier—it was a high-quality type, similar to what she usually used herself.

And yet, even after Slowking generously emptied an entire bottle onto Absol’s wounds, it had no effect. If that wasn’t working, then Mei truly had no idea what else to do.

At this point, she figured it was best not to interfere.

Many situations escalate because someone decides to act without fully understanding the problem.

Like attempting CPR on someone with a punctured chest wound.

Are you trying to save them, or finish them off?

“I’ll give it a try first.”

Natsume neither agreed nor refused Mei’s suggestion.

As blunt as it might sound, the Pokémon Center in town wasn’t exactly top-tier.

It was just a standard facility in a small, ordinary town.

The fact that it even had a Pokémon Center at all was a testament to Jadeleaf’s well-developed infrastructure.

For routine check-ups and minor injuries, it was fine. But for something like this? The medical staff there might not have any better solutions than he did.

So, he decided to try first. If it didn’t work, they could always take Absol to the center and let someone else figure it out.

At least he would have done his best.

“Try…?”

Mei tilted her head slightly, confused but intrigued.

She watched as Natsume’s sapphire-blue eyes began to shimmer with a soft green light.

The power of Viridian gathered in his hands, its emerald glow radiating an aura of pure life energy.

Under its influence, the grass around them flourished at an unnatural speed.

Tiny blossoms sprouted among the weeds, unfolding their petals in silent bloom.

“This is…”

Mei instinctively covered her mouth, her eyes wide with astonishment.

She knew psychics existed, of course.

But this was the first time she had ever seen one in real life.

And wasn’t it a universal rule that all psychics started by bending spoons?

So why did Natsume’s abilities look more like something out of Green Lantern?

Or was he some kind of born-to-farm divine prodigy?

A dozen questions swirled through her mind at once.

But beyond curiosity, there was also a subtle, indescribable feeling in her heart.

After all, Natsume had chosen to reveal his abilities in front of her.

Did that mean… he trusted her?

Girls tend to be sensitive to these things.

But Natsume was too focused to notice.

Encased in the green glow, his hand slowly reached out toward Absol.

The infusion of life energy stabilized the worsening condition almost instantly—but that was merely a side effect of what he was trying to do.

He cleared his mind of distractions, focusing entirely on searching Absol’s body for what he knew must be there.

There it is.

At that moment, Natsume felt it.

A deep, lingering resentment mixed with fear.

This energy wasn’t particularly strong, but its nature was unmistakable.

It clung to Absol’s body, gnawing away at its vitality.

Preventing it from healing.

Dragging it further into decline.

But this was as far as it would go.

With a final surge of Viridian’s power, the curse-like presence quietly dissipated.

“Hah…”

As the green light faded, Natsume wiped at his forehead—though there wasn’t any actual sweat.

For him, this wasn’t any more exhausting than rolling around in bed with his shiny Furret after a meal.

Not tiring at all, really.

“Is it… better now?”

Mei hesitated, glancing at Absol.

There was something almost eerily peaceful about it now.

Under the influence of Viridian’s power, all external injuries had vanished. Its previously pained expression was now completely serene.

At the same time, the surrounding grass had grown so tall that it was nearly burying Absol.

Delicate white flowers swayed in the gentle breeze, standing proud.

It looked…

Like one of those scenes where a hero, having fulfilled their final wish, passes away peacefully in a forest.

Surrounded by flowers and the people who cherished them.

You’re searching for Himmel, aren’t you? (Redacted.)

“It’s fine now. It should wake up soon.”

“There was a curse-like force on it earlier, but I’ve dispelled it.”

Natsume offered Mei a simple explanation.

She nodded, half-understanding.

Dispelling curses…

So Natsume was actually… a Digimon?

Mei was about to ask more about his powers when Absol suddenly stirred.

Then, it slowly opened its eyes.

“Sol…”

It blinked in confusion, its crimson gaze still dazed.

What… happened?

It felt… strangely comfortable.

Before Absol could make sense of its situation, it noticed Natsume and Mei standing nearby.

And, further back, Slowking—who had been diligently playing the role of an invisible background character.

“Sol?”

Did you save me?

For a moment, Absol was surprisingly calm.

It seemed like the type to have a naturally steady temperament.

“Yes. My name is Natsume, and this is Mei.”

“Did something happen to you?”

“You were in pretty bad shape just now.”

Natsume studied Absol curiously.

Earlier, Slowking had secretly told him through telepathy that there was something unusual about this Absol.

So, he was more than willing to hear what it had to say.

Chapter Text

Absol didn’t immediately answer Natsume’s question. Instead, it stood up and began checking its own body.

The injuries it had sustained seemed to have completely healed. The strange energy that had been preventing its recovery had also vanished along with them.

Its body felt better than ever—almost as if it had just come fresh out of the factory.

Was it these two humans who had saved it?

Absol’s gaze lingered on both Natsume and Mei for a moment before finally settling on Natsume.

It should be this human.

Absol wasn’t entirely sure, but there was something about Natsume that made it feel an inexplicable sense of closeness.

If it were a Pokémon like a Glameow—one naturally inclined to be affectionate—it would probably already be lying on its back, showing its belly, begging Natsume for pets, hugs, and to be lifted high into the air.

Plus, in its unconscious state, Absol vaguely remembered hearing Natsume’s voice.

So Absol figured it must have been Natsume who saved it.

As for the human female next to him?

She was probably just there for decoration.

Absol had encountered human Trainers before. It seemed like quite a few of them enjoyed bringing along a "flower vase" or some sort of "accessory" on their travels.

Not sure about their actual strength, but at least they provided some emotional support.

And when trouble came, they acted just like NPCs in a game—spouting the same few lines over and over again.

At this moment, Mei, completely unaware that Absol had mentally categorized her as a decorative companion, was looking at it with concern.

"Sol."

Thank you for saving me.

Though Absol had a lot of thoughts swirling in its mind, it didn't show any of them on the surface. It simply lowered its head slightly toward Natsume and Mei in gratitude.

This was quite different from the usual aloof and proud demeanor of Absols, which took Mei by surprise.

Natsume and Slowking, however, remained unfazed.

For Natsume, it was simply because, since childhood, he had never met a Pokémon that stayed "cool and distant" around him.

He could even turn a stern police officer’s Houndoom into a playful goofball.

As for Slowking, it was probably the Pokémon on the farm that best understood just how unusual Natsume was.

When it evolved into Slowking, the seal placed by Uxie had dissolved.

Along with the surge of power that returned to it, a flood of knowledge left behind by Uxie had also rushed into its mind.

It was as if a parent, worried their child might go hungry while traveling, had left them with an excessive amount of money and food.

Uxie, the god of wisdom, had left behind a great deal of information.

As a self-proclaimed wise mushroom (scratch that)—as the embodiment of wisdom, Uxie possessed knowledge beyond what ordinary beings could comprehend.

And after receiving this sudden info dump, Slowking spent days sorting it all out.

With this knowledge, Slowking understood better than anyone just how abnormal Natsume was.

To Slowking, this farm was filled with unnatural occurrences.

That mysterious Zorua, always scheming and knowing far too much—not normal.

That Persian, with an absurdly powerful physique and energy—not normal.

That Corviknight, whose size and defensive capabilities were off the charts—not normal.

Even the farm itself seemed to be evolving in strange ways.

But among all these abnormalities, Natsume was the most abnormal of them all.

This was one of the main reasons Slowking had decided to stay.

Maybe it wanted to find Uxie again. Maybe it just wanted to witness something different.

Either way, Slowking had chosen to remain here.

Helping Natsume manage this farm that, in its view, made no logical sense.

Not that it was complaining.

Work was work. Who actually likes working?

But then again, how many things in life do people really do just because they like them?

People don’t necessarily go to school because they like it—it’s just something they have to do, because everyone else does.

People don’t study for exams out of love for learning—they do it because they don’t want their years of effort to go to waste.

People don’t work because they enjoy it—it’s just that, well... they need money.

Slowking never resented its life. It knew that compared to most Pokémon, it was already living quite well.

And so, it was content.

But if there was ever an opportunity to nudge things along, to stir up the status quo just a little...

Slowking wouldn’t mind at all.

That was why it had called Natsume over to heal Absol in the first place.

As the blue glow in its eyes faded, Slowking returned to its usual calm expression.

The ability to foresee the future was a signature skill of the Lake Guardians.

And Slowking had picked up a thing or two.

Watching Natsume communicate effortlessly with Absol, Slowking silently stepped back behind Mei and Corviknight.

Now then... what should I eat tonight?

Maybe I’ll try that barbecue Natsume mentioned yesterday.

Slowking, lost in thought once again.

"I see. That’s what happened."

After a brief exchange with Absol, Natsume had a general grasp of the situation.

Its home forest had been taken over by an unknown Pokémon, forcing many of its original inhabitants to leave.

And this Absol, apparently possessing quite the stubborn streak, had refused to leave.

Instead, it had relied on its speed and agility to launch a guerrilla-style resistance, striking at the intruder and retreating immediately after.

But as everyone knows, people who love to tempt fate often don’t live long enough to regret it.

The more the forest was destroyed, the fewer places Absol had left to hide.

Eventually, it had no choice but to leave.

But running away just like that didn’t sit well with Absol.

So, before leaving, it had tried to deliver one last big attack—

And completely failed.

It had barely escaped with its life.

In its last moments of battle, all Absol remembered was the enemy lowering its head to the ground.

Then, the earth itself had split open, forming a bottomless chasm.

Everything after that was a blur.

It only recalled fleeing in an incredibly sorry state.

And the rest of the story was straightforward—

Absol had pushed through its injuries, made it all the way here, and finally collapsed, where it was found by Natsume.

Of course, what Absol didn’t admit was that it had no particular attachment to that forest.

It simply couldn’t stand the Pokémon that had taken it over.

"Huh... that sounds kinda familiar."

For some reason, Natsume found this story oddly reminiscent of something.

Like he’d heard it before.

Who was it again...?

"Oh, right! The Bounsweet group!"

Natsume snapped his fingers in realization.

Hadn’t Steenee mentioned something similar before?

Its group had also fled their habitat after a powerful Pokémon had taken over.

"?"

Beside him, Mei looked completely lost.

She couldn’t understand what Absol was saying, nor did she know about the Bounsweet group’s situation.

Right now, she was just in a state of total confusion.

Fortunately, Natsume quickly explained the situation, allowing Mei to finally understand what was going on.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

"You've been through a lot, Absol."

Watching the obediently crouched Absol, Mei felt a mix of emotions.

Somehow, this Pokémon’s personality didn’t quite match its appearance.

Normally, Absols were known for their aloof and dignified nature. They would appear before humans briefly before vanishing just as quickly. Even when captured by trainers, they tended to maintain a certain level of reserve.

But this one… felt a little strange.

It repeatedly challenged an obviously stronger opponent out of sheer stubbornness. Then, in a final act of defiance, it tried to go big—only to nearly get itself killed.

In short, it really shot itself in the foot.

Honestly, the fact that it was still alive was kind of impressive.

"Sol?"

Tilting its head, Absol didn’t quite understand why Mei seemed so sentimental.

It felt fine. More than fine, actually.

Sure, it almost got obliterated this time, but regret? Not a chance.

Well, okay—if it had to reflect on anything, maybe it should have planned its attacks better.

In hindsight, it should’ve stayed far away, built up its power, and only moved in to strike at the perfect moment before making a quick escape.

Yeah… that was the way to do it.

Lowering its head, Absol was already constructing a brand-new battle strategy in its mind.

Though, to be fair, calling it a "battle strategy" was a bit of a stretch—it was more like imagining itself utterly thrashing that Pokémon.

A lot of people have probably had a similar experience:

Arguing with someone, only to stew in frustration afterward, feeling like they hadn’t responded as well as they could have. Then, in their head, they replay the scenario, thinking of all the perfect comebacks, imagining themselves verbally destroying their opponent… and finally, satisfied, drifting off to sleep.

That was exactly what Absol was doing right now.

"Absol, what are your plans from here?"

Watching Absol’s contemplative expression, Natsume asked the question softly.

He didn’t mind taking in another Pokémon for his farm—there were plenty already, so one more wouldn’t hurt.

If Absol wanted to stay, it was welcome. If it wanted to leave, he would let it go without hesitation.

"Sol."

Plans? None, really.

"Then how about joining my farm?"

"I actually own a pretty big one nearby."

"Sol?"

A farm?

Absol thought for a moment and realized there was no real reason to refuse.

After all, Slowking had already subtly worked on convincing it.

For example:

Natsume is an amazing guy. Free food, free lodging, and guaranteed work.

Everyone on the farm is talented and interesting. They all speak well, and the vibes are great—I totally love it here.

…Okay, maybe the wording was a bit off, but that was the gist of it.

At least, that’s how Absol interpreted it.

"Sol!"

I'm in!

Absol made the decision without hesitation.

Seriously, where else would it find such a good deal?

As for becoming a trainer’s Pokémon?

Absol had no interest in that.

Sure, it wanted to grow stronger and didn’t mind battling, but there was a key difference—

I want to get stronger because I want to, not because you told me to.

If I slap a passing Mightyena, it’s because I felt like it. If you tell me to fight another Pokémon, that’s your problem, not mine.

And if you like battling so much, why don’t you fight yourself? You’ve got hands and feet, don’t you?

In short, this Absol had a bit of a rebellious streak.

But it liked Natsume, so listening to him didn’t seem so bad.

Natsume shall be protected!

…

Maybe.

Glancing at Slowking, who was lost in thought, Absol hesitated.

Something told it that fighting this guy wouldn’t end well.

And that high-and-mighty black bird behind him? Also felt out of its league.

As Absol’s gaze landed on Corviknight, it had a realization.

This bird radiated cold, steely energy—completely unreadable.

Coincidentally, Corviknight was thinking the exact same thing.

Since they hadn’t interacted much yet, and Corviknight had been standing further away, it hadn’t caught most of Natsume and Absol’s conversation.

So from Corviknight’s perspective, Absol seemed just as cold and aloof as any other of its kind.

Tch, I don’t really get along with this type. —Both of them, simultaneously.

"Alright then, I’ll be counting on you, Absol."

Natsume pulled a shrunken Poké Ball from his pocket, enlarged it, and set it down in front of Absol.

Without hesitation, Absol lightly tapped it with the blade-like horn on its forehead.

As the red light flashed, it remained perfectly calm, letting the Poké Ball pull it inside without resistance.

Seeing this, Corviknight became even more convinced—

Yep. Definitely one of those cool and aloof types.

But in reality, Absol was just thinking—

Damn. Human technology is insane.

Absol couldn’t even begin to wrap its head around how Poké Balls worked.

Even with all its knowledge, it was completely beyond comprehension.

So, Absol had to admit—humans were impressive.

And Natsume was impressive.

He could do things even Pokémon couldn’t.

No wonder Slowking calls him “Boss Natsume.”

In Absol’s mind, a simple equation took shape:

Natsume can heal me, but Slowking can’t. So Natsume > Slowking.

I can’t beat Slowking, so Slowking > Me.

Therefore: Natsume > Slowking > Me.

Perfect logic.

With that realization, it felt even more at ease about being captured.

"Sol."

Nice to meet you, Boss Natsume.

Emerging from the Poké Ball, Absol greeted him naturally.

"…Huh?"

Natsume stiffened mid-motion as he put the Poké Ball away.

Where did it learn that?

He didn’t exactly dislike the title, but it was a little embarrassing.

"Ya-don!"

Rejoice!

Out of nowhere, Slowking, who had been spacing out for a while, suddenly pulled out a brand-new, unopened notebook and raised it high in the air.

For a moment, four pairs of eyes locked onto Slowking.

And then…

"Ya-don."

Uh… forgot the next part.

After a brief pause, Slowking quietly put the notebook away.

…Yeah, no, that was way too embarrassing. I should never have trusted that Zorua.

Decision made: the moment it got back, it was eating Zorua’s dinner.

"You… this… ugh, forget it."

Watching Slowking’s completely unbothered expression, Natsume began to doubt his own hearing.

Had he imagined it?

But judging by Mei and the others’ reactions… no, Slowking definitely spoke.

After mulling it over, Natsume decided to drop it for now and turned back to Absol.

"Absol, was this the forest you used to live in?"

Pulling out his phone, he displayed a map for Absol to see.

Ever since hearing Steenee’s story, he had been keeping an eye on this place.

Chapter Text

“Sol…”

Fixing its gaze on the map displayed on Natsume’s phone, Absol looked as though it was trying to pierce through the screen with sheer focus.

But… I can’t understand it.

Unknowingly, a bead of cold sweat rolled down Absol’s forehead.

Human technology was still somewhat of a mystery to it.

Fortunately, after a few adjustments and explanations from Natsume, Absol managed to grasp the basics of the map and even recognized the forest it once called home.

Seeing its former home again through satellite imagery stirred up a mix of emotions within Absol.

It wasn’t just nostalgia—it was also the place where it had nearly lost its life due to an unfortunate misstep.

A black mark on its history…

“Sol.”

This is the place.

Even though it wasn’t exactly thrilled to recall its past failures, Absol still gave Natsume a clear answer.

It’s fine. As long as I don’t mention it, no one will know about my embarrassing history.

…Except Natsume.

As for that girl?

She can’t understand me anyway.

Wait a second.

How does Natsume understand me?

A belated realization struck Absol.

Hiss…

Something about this guy isn’t quite right.

“So, it really is the same place where Steenee and the others come from.”

Putting away his phone, Natsume frowned slightly.

Normally, Pokémon have their own habitats.

Just like in games—Level 60 monsters don’t usually show up in beginner zones, and Level 10 critters don’t spawn in final boss areas.

It’s not just a matter of habit; it’s about resources.

Scarce resources lead to Pokémon that are weaker and lower-leveled.

Abundant resources create strong Pokémon, and the weaker ones get wiped out.

But now, there’s an abnormality. A powerful Pokémon appeared in the same forest where Steenee and the others live.

It’s like one of the Four Heavenly Kings of the Demon Lord’s Army camping at the newbie village gates.

No, wait.

The Four Heavenly Kings usually camp there to wipe out heroes before they grow stronger.

But what’s this Pokémon’s reason?

It doesn’t seem to have any purpose beyond sheer destruction.

Almost as if it’s gaining something from its rampage.

“Natsume, are you planning to go there?”

Seeing the look on his face, Mei asked with some concern.

Not that she could be blamed for thinking that.

Trainers were just that kind of creature—always eager for excitement, adventure, and pushing their limits.

Even the most extreme athletes sponsored by Red Bull couldn’t match the sheer recklessness of Pokémon trainers.

The more dangerous and unexplored a place was, the more trainers you’d find there.

This world had many well-known "forbidden zones" where life was practically unsustainable.

Some were due to the powerful Pokémon residing there, while others had impossibly harsh environments.

But how did people even discover these zones?

The answer: a bunch of fearless or overly confident trainers throwing themselves into danger, proving the credibility of these “forbidden” titles with their own lives.

To this day, many trainers still sought out such places.

Even if you told them, “There’s an Entei in there—it breathes fire on sight and is extremely aggressive,” most trainers would react like this:

“What? That sounds intense! I gotta check it out.”

A few might even rally others:

“Brothers, let’s charge in together!”

That’s just the way trainers were—full of confidence (or arrogance).

But Natsume wasn’t a trainer.

Right now, he was just a farm owner. He didn’t have the boundless energy or reckless curiosity of a trainer.

At this moment, all he wanted was to take care of his farm.

“Of course not.”

Waving a hand dismissively, Natsume made it clear he had no interest in getting involved.

That didn’t mean he would ignore the issue, though.

After all, Natsume had always been the kind of guy who would help an old lady cross the street.

Why “brave young man” instead of “good young man”?

Well, considering his family’s financial situation back then, taking that risk was a bit reckless. In a way, Natsume was definitely qualified for a Courage Badge.

“Hello, is this the Ranger Union?”

Soon, Natsume dialed a number.

The person on the other end was a dispatcher from the Ranger Union.

In games and anime, this organization didn’t seem particularly prominent.

But in reality, it was a major entity—one with broad authority, handling a wide range of matters, and, most importantly, being incredibly strong.

While the Union promoted peaceful solutions between humans and Pokémon, everyone knew that such organizations were often the ones with the most firepower.

Why did trainers always behave when facing a Ranger?

Was it out of politeness? Out of respect?

No.

It was because they’d get their asses kicked otherwise.

“If you don’t understand words, I can explain with my fists.”

After a brief explanation, the Ranger Union assured Natsume they would dispatch a team immediately.

If the situation was confirmed, Natsume would even receive a commendation for reporting it.

Before hanging up, Natsume made sure to give them a heads-up about the Pokémon’s massive size and abnormal durability.

The sheer mention of its size alone was enough to make the Rangers take it seriously.

Unlike in the games, where Groudon was a “massive” 3.5 meters tall, the real Groudon was a true colossus.

Most Legendary Pokémon were genuinely massive.

Even among non-Legendary Pokémon, a large-sized one going berserk was enough to cause disaster.

“All done.”

Hanging up, Natsume clapped his hands, looking quite pleased.

Leave professional work to professionals.

A farm owner like him had no reason to stress over this.

This left Mei a bit dumbfounded.

Wait, what?

She gestured in the air with both hands as if trying to articulate something.

But after a moment’s thought, she realized this was actually the normal reaction.

So why did it feel so… off?

For a moment, Mei fell into deep thought.

Why, though?

Maybe because, in her mind, Natsume was more of a powerful trainer who just happened to run a farm.

Even if he didn’t challenge Gyms or enter tournaments.

The stereotypical image of a farm owner wasn’t exactly glamorous.

A middle-aged man, straw hat on his head, smelling of the farm, not particularly friendly, and sometimes downright grumpy.

That was the common perception of farm owners.

But Natsume?

Young, strong, gentle with Pokémon, and even patient when talking to her.

He could make Pokéblocks, and no matter what he did, he always showed great care.

Handsome, yet not the type to flirt around.

…Actually, that last part might be the real reason.

Though stereotypes often came from general trends, individuals could still break the mold.

Like how many Pokémon Breeders were gentle, mature big sisters.

From the moment they started their profession, interacting with cute Pokémon daily, handling things with care, and being around similar people, they naturally became those familiar, kind-hearted big sisters.

On the flip side, the trainer community had plenty of daredevils.

After all, the best rewards came from unexplored territories.

A place a million people had already scoured? There’d be nothing left but scraps.

“Alright, let’s head back.”

Standing up, Natsume turned to Mei.

“Alright, alright!”

Mei bounced up energetically.

Even though she still had unanswered questions, she figured they didn’t really matter.

If Natsume wanted to tell her, he would.

So, don’t overthink it—

Nope, still thinking about it.

Even as she sat on Corviknight’s back, Mei couldn’t stop wondering.

This wasn’t the first time she’d been caught off guard at Natsume’s farm.

Back then, when he got that call from Slowking…

Wait, Slowking making a call?

…And Natsume understanding every “Yadon” perfectly?

What the hell?!

And now, she was about to learn the truth.

Natsume…

Was a real-life psychic.

Mei’s mind was still reeling as she found herself gripping Natsume’s outstretched hand, letting him pull her onto Corviknight’s back.

It wasn’t that she was short-circuiting because of some incomprehensible sight this time.

No, it was the casualness of it all—the way Natsume’s hand reached out, and without a second thought, she’d taken it.

Then her brain went blank again.

As for everything that happened afterward?

Yeah, she didn’t get any of it.

Whether it was Natsume healing Absol with a simple touch of glowing green light, or how easily he communicated with both Slowking and Absol, or how smoothly he captured what looked like a cool, aloof Absol—none of it made sense to Mei.

Is catching a wild Pokémon really this easy?

She felt like her worldview as a trainer was crumbling.

Today, she’d witnessed so many things that completely defied her understanding.

Feeling the wind rushing past her ears, Mei stared ahead, lost in thought.

At that moment, her expression looked more like a Slowpoke’s than Slowking’s ever did.

Meanwhile, Slowking was sifting through its “crown storage space.”

In simpler terms, it was treating the space under its Shellder crown like a bag, stuffing in all sorts of things—cell phones, half-eaten Pokéblocks, photocopies of Corviknight’s script notes…

All neatly tucked away.

“Mei, were you curious about how I healed Absol earlier?”

Natsume’s sudden question pulled her from her daze.

“Huh? What?”

She snapped her head around to face him, eyes wide.

Is he really going to explain it?

Just like that?

The psychics she’d read about online were always so secretive. They’d make a big show out of something as small as bending a spoon, like they were about to save the world or something.

“I noticed you seemed curious earlier, so I thought I’d explain. If I’m wrong, just forget it!”

Seeing Mei’s stunned look, Natsume quickly added, trying to avoid any misunderstanding.

One of life’s great misunderstandings: “She likes me.”

Or in this case, “She’s interested in me.”

People who think like that often end up embarrassed when reality hits them.

Natsume wanted to avoid that kind of awkwardness.

After all, he and Mei were still just friends, and it was too soon to assume anything deeper.

“No, no, no! I’m super curious!”

Mei waved her hands frantically, eager to dispel his worries.

She was genuinely curious!

She’d never seen a real psychic before, and Natsume wasn’t just bending spoons—this was real power.

Who wouldn’t be curious about that?

“I see.”

Natsume let out a small sigh of relief, then carefully chose his words.

“Around when I was three or four, I started noticing it.”

“I was different from other kids.”

“I had a stronger body and a kind of natural affinity that most people don’t understand.”

“For example, Mightyena, which could easily shatter a grown man’s ribs, was nothing to me—I could pin it down with one hand.”

“And that Houndoom from next door, the one that didn’t like anyone, not even its trainer, would roll over and act all silly for me.”

“With a wave of my hand, it’d do tricks—rolling, backflips, even a Thomas Flair.”

“In short, they listened to me.”

Hold up! That’s way beyond just “listening”!

Mei had so many questions, but she didn’t know where to start.

“Over the next few years, I learned to control this affinity.”

“And gradually, I discovered my true power.”

As he spoke, Natsume extended his hand, and once more, that vibrant green light filled the air.

“I call it the ‘Power of the Viridian.’ No special reason for the name—it just felt right.”

“With this power, I can communicate effortlessly with any Pokémon.”

“And I can heal, transfer life energy, things like that.”

“It’s more of a support ability, really.”

“I see.”

Mei nodded thoughtfully, trying to process everything.

Before long, they let the conversation drift away.

Neither of them dwelled on it, as though they’d just been chatting about what they had for dinner yesterday.

It felt like nothing had changed, yet somehow, there was a subtle shift between them.

Unconsciously, they seemed to have drawn a little closer.

—

Elsewhere, the massive Pokémon that had been ravaging the forest looked around at the devastation it had caused.

After a moment, it lowered its head, then moved on, seemingly losing interest in this ruined area as it searched for a new target to destroy.

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

A sudden gust of wind swirled through the open space of the farm.

A vast shadow stretched across the ground, growing larger by the second as a massive figure descended gracefully from the sky.

Strange as it might sound, despite its enormous size, Corviknight landed with remarkable lightness.

Perhaps this was simply a natural gift of its species—an innate talent as an airborne taxi.

Just like how some people are born with a knack for flipping woks, some excel at smoothing plaster, and others are just naturally introverted.

“Boof boof!”

The moment Mei dismounted from Corviknight, she saw her Tepig rushing toward her, its little face full of grievances.

With its short, stubby forelegs, it clung tightly to Mei’s shin, launching into an impassioned tirade against the alleged "atrocities" committed by the shiny Furret.

Watching her indignant Tepig, Mei found herself in a bit of a predicament.

I have no idea what you’re saying.

Perhaps, in some distant future, Mei would achieve the legendary ability to communicate with Pokémon on a deeper level.

To understand their thoughts with just a glance at their gestures and seemingly nonsensical cries, even discerning their exact desires.

But for now…

She was nowhere near that level.

So she could only stare at Tepig’s righteous indignation with a helpless look.

"I really can’t understand you!"

Somebody save me! Natsume!

With no other options, Mei turned her pleading gaze toward Natsume.

Right now, all she could do was hope that he could help.

“What’s wrong, Tepig?”

Natsume, who had followed Mei off the Caw Caw Express, crouched beside her, temporarily assuming the role of interpreter.

“Boof boof!”

The moment Tepig saw Natsume, it immediately abandoned Mei and directed its complaints toward him instead.

Not that it necessarily preferred Natsume over Mei—

I mean, sure, Tepig liked Natsume a lot, but not that much more than Mei… right?

It’s just that—well, Natsume was way too generous.

Pokeblocks? He handed them out like candy.

Every Pokémon on the farm was well-fed and chubby.

There was even a rumor that one of the farm’s Furret had been trying to go on a diet for ages but never managed to lose any weight.

But back to the point.

The real reason Tepig got so worked up upon seeing Natsume was simply that…

He could actually understand what it was saying.

And that was incredibly rare.

At least, in Tepig’s short Pokémon life, Natsume was the only human it had ever met who could communicate with Pokémon without barriers.

“I see, I think I got it,” Natsume nodded after listening to Tepig’s complaints.

Then he turned to Mei and summarized,

“In short… it got mentally broken by Shiny Furret.”

“Boof?!”

Tepig gasped in horror.

Oi, oi, did you really have to spell it out like that?!

Sure, it wasn’t exactly wrong, but—

I still have my dignity, you know!

“Huh?”

Hearing Natsume’s words, Mei was momentarily stunned.

What the heck does "breaking through defenses" even mean?

“It seems that Shiny Furret was trying to teach Tepig a move, so it made Tepig experience it firsthand. If he couldn’t learn it, he just kept getting hit.”

“Furret!”

At some point, the shiny Furret had appeared beside Natsume and added its own explanation.

It had noticed that Tepig’s motivation to get stronger seemed weaker than the other Pokémon.

So, it opted for a simple and direct teaching method—

Letting Tepig remember the feeling of getting beaten.

That should help him learn, right?

After all, Take Down is just a straightforward charge attack.

At least, that’s how Furret saw it.

Tackle? Just ramming into something.

Take Down? Ramming even harder.

And Take Down with full force? That means charging in without caring about defense, aiming straight for the opponent’s weak spot.

A rather simple and direct way of understanding it.

“I see.”

Glancing at the somewhat guilty-looking Tepig, Mei decisively turned to the shiny Furret.

“In that case, I’ll be counting on you to take care of him from now on.”

Without hesitation, she grabbed Tepig by the scruff of his neck and shoved him toward Furret.

Mei was well aware of her Pokémon’s personalities.

The one that gave her the biggest headache was undoubtedly Tepig.

Servine and Dewott? No need to even mention them.

They were both diligent and hardworking. Even if Mei didn’t push them, they would train on their own.

Steenee, who joined later, was playful and curious about everything, but with a little encouragement, she would train seriously.

Only Tepig was the problem.

He was lazy, playful, and even slacked off during training.

Scolding him didn’t really work. If she was too harsh, she would feel guilty herself.

So, Tepig had been living in a relatively relaxed state.

If he were content with staying like that forever, Mei wouldn’t mind. She could just let him be the team’s mascot, cheering everyone on from the sidelines.

As long as it didn’t affect the team’s overall atmosphere, it was fine.

But sometimes, Tepig would suddenly become motivated.

Like after a battle loss—especially when Mei lost a match.

He would get really upset and enter a short-lived “determined training” phase.

But it never lasted.

To put it simply, he wasn’t content being lazy, but he also didn’t want to work too hard.

Caught between anxiety and slacking off, he ultimately chose anxious slacking.

He would stand up and train for a bit—only to start looking for excuses to rest again.

Just like you in front of the screen.

So, Mei decided she needed to put some pressure on him.

Since she couldn’t bring herself to be strict, she might as well let someone else do it.

“Furret!”

Leave it to me! No problem at all!

Catching the tossed Tepig, Furret threw him over its shoulder and gave Mei a thumbs-up.

Ignoring Tepig’s frantic struggles, Furret adjusted its posture, standing upright on its hind legs, and carried Tepig off for more training.

“Boooor—!!”

A heart-wrenching wail echoed across the farm, carrying far into the distance.

Servine and Dewott, who were in the middle of training, nodded approvingly.

Nice. Someone finally put that lazy, orange pig in his place.

In fact, both of them had been annoyed by Tepig for a while now.

They just hadn’t said anything out of respect for Mei.

Now, they had even more respect for Natsume.

As expected of the human they acknowledged.

Not bad at all.

For now, Dewott was very satisfied with farm life.

And more importantly—

Glancing over at Gallade, who was leisurely fishing by the lake, Dewott’s eyes burned with admiration.

Ever since witnessing Gallade in battle, Dewott had become completely captivated.

The fluid movements, the clean and efficient attacks—

And the way Gallade casually turned away after the fight to chat with the others.

It was exactly the kind of battle style Dewott dreamed of.

With Slowking, the coach, and the ever-durable training partner Corviknight back on the farm, the training routine had returned to normal.

By the way, when Mei first requested special training, she didn’t think too much about it.

But later, she felt like she might have been taking advantage of the situation.

So, in classic university-student fashion—never haggling when shopping—she bought a massive supply of Pokéblocks.

Enough to last her Pokémon a whole month.

Don’t ask. It was necessary.

At the very least, Mei had full confidence in Tepig’s appetite.

So, all she could do was entrust everything to her team’s biggest eater.

If Natsume knew what Mei was thinking, he would probably just laugh and say it wasn’t necessary.

At first, sure, the special training was just for Mei’s Pokémon.

But now, it had evolved into a full-fledged farm-wide boot camp.

Since he was already training his Pokémon, adding a few more didn’t make a difference.

Might as well get everyone involved to make the atmosphere even livelier.

That was how Slowking, the stand-in coach, saw it.

At this point, most of the Pokémon who were close to Natsume had joined in.

Even the ones who usually kept their distance—like Charjabug, the shiny Pidgeotto, and the Hisuian Zorua who always lurked in the shadows watching—had joined.

The training grounds were buzzing with energy.

After a quick scan of the training site, Natsume headed back to his room for a break.

He hadn’t rested much since morning.

Originally, he planned to make more Pokéblocks for the Pokémon.

But before he could, Slowking dragged him off to check on Absol.

And, well, the rest was history.

Mei, on the other hand, didn’t follow him back.

She decided to stay and cheer on Servine and the others.

At least this way, she could contribute in some way.

Otherwise, it felt like leaving them to train while she went off to relax—

Like putting a game on auto-mode.

“Mhmm?”

At the end of the second-floor hallway, a small head peeked out from a room, sensing Natsume’s presence.

When it saw him, its eyes lit up, and it immediately dashed toward him, leaping into his arms.

“Good afternoon, Ogerpon.”

“Did you stay up late again last night?”

Catching the airborne Ogerpon, Natsume chuckled and gave its head a gentle rub.

“Mhmm.”

Nestled in his arms, Ogerpon’s eyes darted around evasively.

Ever since arriving at the farm, it had spent a few days setting up its room.

At Natsume’s suggestion, Ogerpon decided to keep the trinkets it had originally planned to throw away.

They were treasures from the past, after all.

Then came the process of adjusting to the new environment.

Overall, it had been getting along with the other Pokémon well enough.

Not exactly friendly, but at least they coexisted peacefully under the same roof.

Not that Ogerpon cared too much about them.

As long as Natsume was there, that was enough.

At first, that’s what it thought.

Then Corviknight dragged it into an all-night anime binge.

And just like that, it got sucked in.

Now, Ogerpon even greeted the other Pokémon occasionally.

Among its closest friends on the farm were Shiny Furret and Corviknight.

With Shiny Furret, it was a natural connection—they were both cute, so they clicked.

As for Corviknight, well—

It was just an extroverted otaku.

Yes, that sounded odd.

But somehow, Corviknight balanced being a hardcore anime nerd with an incredibly outgoing personality.

It loved recommending anime to everyone.

And occasionally, it even acted out dramatic scenes.

Unfortunately, most of the farm’s Pokémon weren’t interested in anime.

But Ogerpon was.

Because it had once seen Natsume watching anime while lounging on a bean bag after a bath—

And figured this was a great way to get closer to him.

Since there was nothing else to do, might as well pass the time—so, together with Corviknight, he started watching an anime.

And then he got hooked.

"Staying up late is fine, but remember to show some restraint."

After giving it a firm rub, Natsume set Ogerpon down on the floor.

This little one had always been quite clingy.

Good thing he was raising a Ogerpon and not a Grass Cat.

Sprigatito, being one of the highly popular starter Pokémon, was an extremely rare feline species and a textbook example of an adorable cat Pokémon.

Not the fancy-pants, gas-tank-looking kind of cat, though.

Its final evolution was a graceful, humanoid big cat—decent stats all around.

But the downside? Grass Cats were incredibly jealous creatures.

If you got too close to other Pokémon, Sprigatito would get really jealous.

Natsume had originally considered raising one, but after thinking about it, he decided against it.

Still, having a Grass-type Ogerpon now wasn’t much different.

Just as cute, just as strong, and without that over-the-top jealousy issue.

“Wooma wooma.”

Nodding firmly, Ogerpon signaled its understanding.

It would definitely be staying up late again.

A classic case of acknowledging a mistake but having zero intention of changing.

Lately, Ogerpon had been obsessed with a new anime, and it had already made plans with Corviknight to marathon the remaining episodes tonight.

"Ahh, finally lying down."

Sinking into the beanbag chair, Natsume let out a long breath as his body relaxed.

That feeling of finally having solid support from the waist to the shoulder blades—no matter how many times he experienced it, it was always satisfying.

"Wooma."

Taking advantage of the moment, Ogerpon handed Natsume a glass of water it had just fetched, then climbed onto the backrest of the beanbag chair, gently tapping his shoulders.

From this angle, it happened to catch a glimpse of the screen on Natsume’s phone.

"Wooma?"

Was Natsume signing up for that tournament?

Looking at the registration page on the screen, Ogerpon tilted its head in curiosity.

It had overheard some Pokémon at the farm mentioning that Natsume was thinking about entering a town-level or county-level competition.

Just for fun.

So naturally, Ogerpon was a little curious.

But only a little.

It knew full well that Natsume wouldn’t sign it up for something like this.

"More or less. Interested, Ogerpon?"

"Wooma."

Not really.

Feeling the warmth of the hand on its head, Ogerpon answered, sounding thoroughly disinterested.

What would it even do in a competition like this?

Speedrun the whole thing and grab the prize?

"Alright then, if you’re not interested, I’ll have someone else enter."

Natsume smiled as he finished filling out his registration details.

Chapter Text

After completing the registration, Natsume quickly put the matter out of his mind.

He just couldn’t muster much enthusiasm for this tournament.

He wasn’t a trainer seeking fame through battle, nor one of those “hunters” who frequently participated in small competitions for prize money and rare items.

The only reason Natsume signed up was simple—he just wanted his Pokémon to get out and have some fun.

For most trainers, letting their Pokémon relax meant skipping training and going out to play.

For Natsume’s Pokémon, "relaxing" meant entering a tournament.

In a way, they were a particularly hardworking bunch.

As for the team he’d enter?

Natsume already had a lineup in mind.

One thing was certain: his Shiny Furret and the others, who trained hard every day, were definitely coming along.

They had been looking forward to standing on a real battlefield for a long time.

The small-scale sparring matches on the farm were no longer enough to satisfy their competitive spirits.

"Wooma."

Perched on Natsume’s shoulder, Ogerpon rubbed its cheek against his before hopping down onto his lap.

It curled up in a comfortable position and peered at his phone with curiosity.

Ogerpon actually had a phone of its own.

But it only ever used it for watching anime.

Anything else? Not interested.

If all the apps on its phone had physical buttons, the video apps would be visibly worn out from overuse, while everything else would still look brand new.

Ogerpon might occasionally check out other apps when it first downloaded them, but after that? Nothing.

Well, except for the rare moments when it called Natsume.

"Do you want anything, Ogerpon?"

Holding the phone in one hand, Natsume supported Ogerpon with the other, cradling it like a small child.

He rested his chin on its head.

Right now, Ogerpon looked just like a plush toy.

"Wooma."

Nope. You already bought me so many things.

Ogerpon shook its head, making it clear that it didn’t need anything at the moment.

In a way, Natsume was quite the extravagant spender.

When it came to himself, he barely spent money beyond the basics—food, clothing, and shelter.

Aside from the occasional interest in something weird, his personal expenses were minimal.

But when it came to his Pokémon? That was a different story.

He bought them tons of stuff.

Just because.

Like that time he went on a shopping spree for Persian.

He bought several different kinds of scratching posts.

Only for Persian to completely ignore them.

"Do you seriously think I need these?"

With a single slap, Persian shattered a scratching post.

It didn’t say anything, but its actions spoke volumes.

Those were supposed to be premium scratching posts designed specifically for feline Pokémon.

But in Persian’s hands, they were as fragile as a college student’s health.

It was the same for the other Pokémon.

Corviknight’s room had practically turned into a shrine of collectible figurines, and its collection of electronic gadgets was ridiculous.

Not that Natsume minded.

He wasn’t exactly strapped for cash these days.

His Pokéblock sales were doing great—most of his customers became repeat buyers, providing a steady stream of income.

His Viridian Force-enhanced fruits and berries were also wildly popular.

At this point, Natsume could confidently say he had basically achieved financial freedom.

He wasn’t quite at the level of “never work again” wealth, but if he wanted something, he could buy it without thinking twice.

What? You’re saying there are problems money can’t solve?

Well, if you have enough money, most problems stop being problems.

Take home renovations, for example.

If you’re broke, you have to consider material costs, labor, inspections, and all sorts of details.

But if you’re rich, you just hire a high-end renovation team with great reviews and let them handle everything.

Thanks to that, Natsume didn’t have many worries in his daily life.

Any farm upgrades? He could get them done immediately.

Need new equipment? He could order it without hesitation.

"Alright, if you don’t need anything, I won’t buy anything for now."

Since Ogerpon said it didn’t want anything, Natsume wasn’t going to force it.

It was like giving gifts in a relationship—thoughtful gestures were nice, but if a girl explicitly told you she didn’t want something and you still bought it, she might just get annoyed.

Closing the shopping app, Natsume casually opened the Trainer Forum.

The Trainer Forum was a wild place.

A chaotic mix of casual travelers, professional trainers competing on the international stage, hobbyists, and even armchair experts who definitely weren’t just bluffing.

People there prided themselves on being “all-knowing.”

Even if you started a discussion about Arceus, they’d somehow have something to say.

Of course, whether they were actually right was another matter entirely.

"Suo."

Just as Natsume and Ogerpon were scrolling through the ridiculous forum posts, Hisuian Zorua suddenly dashed into the room.

"What’s up?"

Natsume raised an eyebrow at the little fox peeking around the door.

Even though he had caught it, Zorua had never been particularly close to him.

Most of the time, it just followed regular Zorua and Togepi around, playing pranks on other Pokémon.

This was the first time it had come looking for Natsume on its own.

Even when it wanted to play with Steenee and the others, it never approached him directly.

It had a natural wariness of humans.

Not that this was a problem for Natsume.

"Suosuo?"

Are there any other Ghost-type Pokémon on our farm?

I think I caught a whiff of something...

Upon seeing Natsume, Zorua instinctively shrank back a little.

To be honest, it had actually wanted to get closer to him before.

But ever since that one time—when Natsume had ruffled its fur so much it ended up looking like a goofy husky—it had been keeping its distance.

It had zero desire to go through that again.

Natsume’s ability was just too unfair.

"A Ghost-type Pokémon?"

"Aside from you, there shouldn’t be any others."

The farm had a huge variety of Pokémon, covering almost every type.

But as far as Ghost-types went, Hisuian Zorua was the only one.

"You smelled a Ghost-type…?"

"Could it be that one snuck in?"

That wasn’t impossible.

In fact, it was highly likely.

Ghost-types were notorious for their stealthy, mischievous nature.

If weird things started happening—like objects constantly disappearing when you needed them, only to reappear later in their original spot—

That was classic Ghost-type behavior.

"Let’s go check it out."

"Wooma!"

"Suo!"

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell

Chapter Text

"Suosuo."

Hisuian Zorua took the lead, sniffing around as it followed the scent it had picked up.

To Hisuian Zorua, the scent was fairly distinct. However, because Natsume's farm was quite large, the owner of the scent seemed to have been wandering around for quite some time.

Moreover, with so many Pokémon on the farm training and moving about, the air was filled with a mix of different smells.

Not to mention... it's not like I'm a canine Pokémon or anything.

I'm just a cute little fox.

And if you're about to say that foxes are also part of the canine family…

There's no need to be so pedantic about Pokémon classifications. (Indifferent face.)

"Garde?"

Gardevoir, who was in Natsume's old workshop learning how to make Pokéblocks, curiously looked toward the rather unusual team entering the room.

Natsume and Ogerpon teaming up was a common sight.

Natsume and Hisuian Zorua, while not seen together as often, was still a familiar pairing.

But Natsume, Hisuian Zorua, and Ogerpon all together?

That was a first.

A rather rare sight indeed.

"Garde."

What's going on, Natsume?

Gardevoir’s voice rang directly in Natsume's mind.

At first, Gardevoir wasn’t exactly skilled at telepathy—it could barely manage broken phrases when focusing with all its might.

Both Gardevoir and its intended recipient found the process frustrating.

Initially, Gardevoir didn’t think much of this ability.

After all, as a Psychic-type, simply linking mental energy was enough to convey meaning—who needed telepathy?

It wasn’t until it arrived at the farm that Gardevoir began to take this skill seriously.

Even though Natsume could understand it just fine, Gardevoir felt it should do something more to show how much it valued him.

Even if it turned out to be pointless, effort mattered most.

That was Gardevoir’s philosophy.

Because of this, Gallade often teased it.

To Gallade, this whole thing was utterly meaningless.

Natsume was a good person—he wouldn’t dislike Gardevoir over something like this.

But Gardevoir fiercely refuted that claim, and in doing so, it also suffered relentless ridicule from its own younger sister.

Something along the lines of: "Foolish, shortsighted, destined to be a fishless fisherman."

Yeah… that last part seemed to have the most impact.

After being told that, Gallade instantly sank into a state of deep self-doubt, questioning its entire existence.

If there had been a trash can or an empty box nearby, it probably would've crawled inside.

"A Ghost-type Pokémon seems to have sneaked in. Hisuian Zorua is leading us to find it now."

"Garde?"

Do you need my help?

Gardevoir set down the Pokéblocks it had been working on, grabbed a towel from the table, and casually wiped its hands before asking.

"Oh? You want to help? That’d be great."

Psychic-type Pokémon were useful in all sorts of situations.

From daily life to wild expeditions, their abilities were invaluable.

Just the move Psychic alone could solve a ton of problems in the wild.

For many trainers, Butterfree—one of the most common Pokémon capable of learning Psychic—was an essential capture.

That was exactly why Natsume had caught a Butterfree back then.

And now? That same Butterfree had become his dedicated Pokéblock assistant.

Occasionally, it would help out around the farm—like managing all the butterflies drawn in by the flowers.

"Garde."

It’s fine. If I can help you, Natsume, I’d be happy to.

Gardevoir untied its apron and placed it on the rack. Its eyes suddenly shone with a bright blue glow.

A vast surge of psychic energy spread out, sweeping across the farm like a radar.

It was on par with Slowking’s abilities.

Which made sense—after all, Gardevoir was known as the "Psychic Queen."

This level of power should be perfectly normal…

Or not.

Wasn't this already way beyond the usual range of a normal Pokémon?

Slowking, who had been explaining move techniques to a Servine nearby, let out a quiet sigh.

Was there even a single normal Pokémon on this farm?

His own abilities were thanks to a special opportunity and training from Uxie.

But what about Gardevoir?

Was it really just natural talent combined with a diet of high-quality Pokéblocks and a unique training environment?

"Garde."

Found it.

The blue glow faded as Gardevoir turned to Natsume.

Just as he suspected, there was indeed a foreign presence on the farm—something they hadn’t encountered before.

Though Gardevoir wasn’t sure exactly what Pokémon it was, the Ghost-type energy it gave off was unmistakable.

"Garde."

I’ll take you there.

"Then I’ll be counting on you, Gardevoir."

"Garde."

It’s no problem.

A blue psychic aura enveloped Natsume and the two smaller Pokémon as Gardevoir activated Teleport.

In the blink of an eye, the group appeared in front of the warehouse.

"Garde."

Gardevoir clutched its chest, breathing in small, measured gasps.

What should’ve been a routine teleport had unexpectedly taken a toll on it.

Normally, just bringing Natsume along would have been manageable.

But this time, Ogerpon was part of the group.

The stronger the Pokémon, the more energy was required to teleport them.

This time, the energy consumption had been several times greater than usual.

The moment the teleportation activated, Gardevoir had realized the issue.

Luckily, everything went smoothly in the end.

Gardevoir let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"You worked hard, Gardevoir."

Noticing its exhaustion, Natsume quickly extended his hand, and the radiant glow of Viridian’s Blessing washed over Gardevoir.

Bathed in its light, Gardevoir’s energy rapidly recovered.

"Garde."

Thank you, Natsume.

"It’s nothing."

Natsume waved it off before turning toward the warehouse.

Why did it feel like weird things always happened here?

Did warehouses naturally attract Pokémon over time?

As he pushed open the door, he flicked on the lights.

The moment the warehouse lit up, something in the corner twitched slightly—just enough to catch the edge of Natsume’s vision.

Following that subtle movement, his eyes landed on an old, somewhat worn-out treasure chest.

"A treasure chest?"

The moment he saw it, a possibility crossed his mind.

And moments later, that guess was confirmed.

A small figure timidly peeked out from inside the chest, cautiously staring at Natsume.

Chapter Text

A small Pokémon peeked out from the treasure chest, its two coin-like eyes filled with tension and unease.

Strange as it may sound, that expression of nervousness was unmistakable.

Two antenna-like appendages protruded from its head.

"Gimmighoul?"

Seeing the tiny figure, Natsume was somewhat surprised.

Gimmighoul was a slow-moving Ghost-type Pokémon that wasn't particularly adept at mobility.

It typically lived inside treasure chests and was naturally timid—whenever it sensed the presence of humans or Pokémon nearby, it would immediately hide, ensuring it remained undiscovered.

Gimmighoul generally had two forms: Roaming Form and Chest Form.

There was no fundamental difference between them.

If anything, their behavior patterns varied.

Roaming Form Gimmighoul wandered around, seemingly in search of its original treasure chest, hiding the moment it encountered humans or Pokémon.

Chest Form Gimmighoul, on the other hand, often lurked in warehouses, item shops, or other places where few people or Pokémon ventured.

If an unsuspecting human or Pokémon wandered too close, it would take control of them.

And if someone attempted to steal its treasure, it would drain their life force.

The one before Natsume was unmistakably a Chest Form Gimmighoul.

At first glance, it instinctively attempted to control Natsume.

Now that it had found its treasure chest, there was no need to stay here any longer.

It was best to leave as soon as possible.

However, before it could act, three piercing gazes locked onto it simultaneously.

The sheer pressure from those stares froze Gimmighoul in place.

Its attempt to raise a hand was abruptly interrupted, leaving it in an awkward and somewhat comical posture.

Gardevoir and Hisuian Zorua stared at Gimmighoul coldly, ready to strike at the first sign of trouble.

As for Ogerpon?

It had already pulled out a thorny club from somewhere. If not for Natsume holding it back, that club would have smashed down onto Gimmighoul’s head by now.

@#￥% (Pokémon profanity)

You dare make a move on Natsume? You think you have enough lives for that?

"Gimmighoul..."

Snapping back to reality, Gimmighoul shrank further into its chest, terrified that it might get its head smashed in the next second.

That green Pokémon over there radiated a murderous intent so intense that it was practically blinding.

It actually wanted to kill me just now.

Terrifying.

Wait—wasn’t there a saying that Grass-type Pokémon were supposed to be gentle?

Then why was this green one so aggressive?

Could it be that this green Pokémon wasn’t actually a Grass type?

Like those Pokémon that looked like dragons but weren’t Dragon-types?

"Hello, Gimmighoul. I’m the owner of this farm."

Natsume wasn’t particularly bothered by Gimmighoul’s attempt to control him.

For one, it was simply an instinctual behavior of its species.

For another…

Even if I stand here and let my mind go blank, do you really think you can make me flinch for even a second?

This is the confidence given to me by Arceus (crossed out)

This is the blessing bestowed upon me by the great Hisui.

Natsume could proudly claim that he was a man who could walk unscathed through every hypnosis-based anime.

Of course, just because he wasn’t holding a grudge now didn’t mean he wouldn’t later.

Whether he let it slide depended on Gimmighoul’s cooperation and attitude.

If it behaved well, Natsume could overlook the incident.

The farm was big enough—one more Pokémon wouldn’t make much of a difference.

Besides, it could help with the night shift.

After all, Ghost-types were naturally more active at night.

And Gimmighoul was no exception.

But if it refused to cooperate or showed hostility again…

Then sorry, not only will I beat you up and toss you out, but I’ll also break your treasure chest.

"Gimmighoul."

Hello, Natsume.

Sensing the kindness in Natsume’s aura—while also noticing the ‘If you don’t cooperate, I’ll send you straight to Arceus’ look on Ogerpon’s face—

Gimmighoul immediately decided to behave.

To show its sincerity, it even set down the coin it had been clutching in its tiny hands.

It was genuinely afraid of dying.

After traveling across mountains and rivers to finally find its treasure chest, it barely had time to settle in before being discovered by humans.

Being discovered wasn’t the worst part—at least it could try running away with its chest.

But it nearly got obliterated instead.

What kind of nightmare scenario was this?

It had worked so hard to find its treasure chest.

It had even found two extra coins inside.

These should have been two joyous occasions, and yet—why did things turn out like this?

Gimmighoul was feeling a little melancholic.

After going through the standard round of introductions, Natsume pulled out a thermos from his small satchel and took a sip of water.

To be honest, he was starting to feel like an NPC in some game.

The Pokémon were the players.

Every time a new “player” encountered him, it would trigger a scripted conversation sequence.

Followed by the inevitable Capture Event.

…Though, seriously, what kind of game protagonist gets captured?

It’s not like this was that kind of game.

"So, do you want to join the farm?"

NPC Natsume extended his invitation to Gimmighoul.

Gimmighoul hesitated for a brief moment.

But even that fleeting hesitation was enough to earn a sharp glare from Ogerpon.

THUD!

The thorny club slammed against the ground with a dull impact.

Ogerpon didn’t say a word, but somehow, it spoke volumes.

"Gimmighoul!"

Yes, I accept! Please spare my life, thank you very much.

Gimmighoul nodded decisively.

As if I had any other choice.

If I refused, that green menace—who was already itching to swing—would probably pummel me into Gimmighoul paste on the spot.

Damn it.

I still have big dreams to achieve!

Like collecting all 999 coins to evolve!

Gimmighoul had a rather unique evolution method—gathering 999 of its own species’ coins before evolving into Gholdengo.

A Pokémon that gleamed like pure gold, radiating wealth and prosperity.

By the way, Gholdengo had one of the most underwhelming shiny forms in all of Pokémon.

The only difference was that a few thin red lines on its body turned silver.

If you didn’t look closely, you’d never notice.

Most people, upon seeing it, would be too dazzled by its golden sheen to realize it was shiny at all.

"Then welcome to the farm, Gimmighoul."

Natsume took out a Poké Ball and held it out to Gimmighoul.

Without hesitation, Gimmighoul obediently pressed the button.

As the red light enveloped it, Gimmighoul stole one last glance at Ogerpon and made a solemn vow in its heart.

Someday… one day… I will rise up and defeat that guy.

In front of everyone, I will take him down with my own strength!

***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.

P@treon/GodDragcell