《Pokémon: Farm Story》 Chapter 1: Starting My Life as a Farmer 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.Stolen novel; please report. Disembarking, Natsume looked around in slight bewilderment, clutching an incubator holding a Pok¨¦mon 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¡ªonce 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 Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon Trainer is expensive. Extremely expensive. The cost of Pok¨¦mon food, training facilities, medical care¡ªit 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 Pok¨¦mon. Sure, people liked to say, ¡°There are no bad Pok¨¦mon, 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¡ªa 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 Pok¨¦ Balls, three brilliant beams of light erupted, and three figures emerged. Chapter 2: Pokémon in the Shrubbery 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 Pok¨¦mon, Persian had been left to him by his parents¡ªa 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 Pok¨¦mon. 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 Pok¨¦mon in total. After being released from their Pok¨¦ Balls, the three Pok¨¦mon 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¡ªit 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 Pok¨¦mon. The demeanor of a trainer''s Pok¨¦mon often revealed much about the trainer''s character. Seeing how relaxed and close these Pok¨¦mon 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¡ªhe wished for them to be upright, kind-hearted individuals rather than prodigies. ¡®But still¡¡¯If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The mayor''s gaze lingered on Persian for a moment. He couldn¡¯t help but feel that this particular Pok¨¦mon seemed even stronger than those trained by the town''s gym apprentices. Don¡¯t ask how he knew¡ªchalk 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 Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon from the river will show up here." Meanwhile, the mayor''s Mr. Mime persistently tried to engage Natsume''s Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon¡ªparticularly 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 Pok¨¦mon 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¡ªthis 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 Pok¨¦mon. 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 Pok¨¦mon. His enthusiasm was palpable. "Persian, you watch over my bag and the incubator. Butterfree, help me clean up. Rookidee, scout the area for other Pok¨¦mon nearby. And remember¡ªno picking fights!" Pulling a variety of cleaning tools from his small bag, Natsume assigned tasks to each of his Pok¨¦mon. 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¡ªhardly 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 Pok¨¦mon bustled about the house. Seeing its old territory occupied, the little Pok¨¦mon hesitated, torn between reluctance and an inexplicable yearning. "Caaw!" Suddenly, Rookidee''s sharp call echoed from above¡ªit had spotted the figure. "Eeek!" Startled, the Pok¨¦mon bolted into the nearby forest, leaving Rookidee tilting its head in confusion, wondering why its presence had caused such a commotion. Chapter 3: Abstraction is a Talent ¡°You¡¯re saying a Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon, one revered as the great deity of Hisui¡ªa llama (scratched out)¡ªno, 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 Pok¨¦mon cries. By focusing intently, he could see detailed information about a Pok¨¦mon. 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?Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Could the Pok¨¦mon it saw have been something from the Ralts evolutionary line? But when Natsume asked if the Pok¨¦mon¡¯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¡ªone that he clearly didn¡¯t possess. ¡°Well, let¡¯s set aside that Pok¨¦mon 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¡ªespecially without a Psychic-type Pok¨¦mon. 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 Pok¨¦blocks. He took out two and handed them to Butterfree. Butterfree¡¯s compound eyes lit up as it eagerly clutched the Pok¨¦blocks, nibbling away happily. Natsume had made these Pok¨¦blocks himself, modifying the original recipes to suit his Pok¨¦mon¡¯s tastes. Ah, thank you once again, Arceus. The knowledge that had once been incomprehensible turned out to include a treasure trove of Pok¨¦block recipes and crafting techniques. With this knowledge, Natsume could have made a living purely as a Pok¨¦block 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 4: The First Night and a New Partner 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 Pok¨¦mon began to stir. A curious little Rattata poked its head out from the bushes. It had noticed earlier that afternoon¡ªafter such a long time of the farmhouse being empty¡ªthat 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.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. The Persian largely ignored the Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon: 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 Pok¨¦mon living on the farm. 2. Recruit new partners for the work ahead. After all, this was the world of Pok¨¦mon. 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 Pok¨¦mon like Magnemite or Pikachu could generate power, while the likes of Psyduck or Lotad handled irrigation. In both daily life and specialized tasks, Pok¨¦mon had become integral to human society. As a farm owner, the more Pok¨¦mon the merrier¡ªas 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 Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦ball. 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 Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon, 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 5: Trainers and Anglers Are Cut from the Same Cloth Deep in the forest, two groups of Pok¨¦mon were locked in a tense standoff. Not far away, Natsume crouched with his Pok¨¦mon, 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 Pok¨¦mon, 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¡ªthis 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 Pok¨¦mon 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.¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. ¡°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¡ªit 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¡ªit 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 Pok¨¦mon was sent flying. The scene resembled a sequence from Stephen Chow¡¯s movie Kung Fu Hustle. Some Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon. 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 Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon. 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 Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦ 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 Pok¨¦mon and get captured.¡± While the town was relatively remote and lacked convenient transportation, trainers were like anglers¡ªthey 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 Pok¨¦mon and unearth treasures. Chapter 6: Pokémon with a Cleaning Obsession After successfully capturing the Mightyena pack, Natsume quickly released them from their Pok¨¦ Balls. From the very beginning, Natsume had no intention of keeping Pok¨¦mon confined in their Pok¨¦ Balls for extended periods. Even if he became a full-fledged Trainer, he planned to maintain this principle. To Natsume, Pok¨¦ 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 Pok¨¦mon. 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 Pok¨¦ Ball and recorded which Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦ Balls into his bag. He planned to set up a dedicated room for storing them later. Given the number of Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon 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.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. 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 Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon breeding and care. Yes, Natsume planned to expand his humble farm into a comprehensive ranch. He didn¡¯t just want to raise Pok¨¦mon like Miltank or Combee, which produced valuable goods. He dreamed of managing entire Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon Trainer, he wanted to stay connected to Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon, but there were some familiar species. Magikarp and Feebas were abundant, along with solitary Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon suddenly darted out and blocked its path. ¡°Mimi!¡± ¡°A Minccino?¡± Natsume blinked in surprise at the petite gray Pok¨¦mon. Then it hit him¡ªthis wasn¡¯t unusual at all. Minccino and its evolution, Cinccino, were notorious neat freaks among Pok¨¦mon. 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 Pok¨¦ 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. *_____________________________________* Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my Patreon. p@treon(.)com/GodDragcell Chapter 7: From Today On, Ill Be a Cold and Ruthless Pokémon 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¡ªlike 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 Pok¨¦mon trainers now had quite a ¡°reputation¡± among wild Pok¨¦mon. Yes, the bad kind. To wild Pok¨¦mon, trainers were often synonymous with chaos: Invading territories and attacking innocent Pok¨¦mon. Stealing treasures while Pok¨¦mon were away. Kidnapping baby Pok¨¦mon 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.Stolen story; please report. 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¡ªlike 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 Pok¨¦block, 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 Pok¨¦block. 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¡ªyou wouldn¡¯t want to lose sight of me, would you? At least, that was what Natsume imagined based on the Pok¨¦mon¡¯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 Pok¨¦mon. Persian was out¡ªit 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 Pok¨¦mon, 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 Pok¨¦mon. 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 Pok¨¦mon. With that resolution in mind, Rookidee prepared for its battle. *_______________________________________* Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my Patreon. p@treon(.)com/GodDragcell Chapter 8: The Relationship Between Trainers and Pokémon Is Like That of Coaches and Esports Players 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¡ªonly 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 Pok¨¦mon 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¡ªchief among them being the importance of fostering independent battle instincts in Pok¨¦mon. 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 Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon to make autonomous decisions during battles was an essential skill for every trainer¡ªunless they were a psychic capable of telepathic communication or had a Pok¨¦mon with a unique battle style.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. In essence, the relationship between a trainer and their Pok¨¦mon was akin to that between a coach and an esports player. Pok¨¦mon 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¡ªa 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¡ªit 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 Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦ball, 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 Pok¨¦ball 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 Pok¨¦ball in Natsume¡¯s hand shook briefly before falling still. "Come out, Minccino." Reemerging from the Pok¨¦ball, 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 Pok¨¦mon were born to fight¡ªdriven 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. Pok¨¦mon didn¡¯t just wait to be chosen by trainers¡ªsometimes, they chose their trainers too. It was a mutual decision. "Alright, let¡¯s head back," Natsume said, pocketing Minccino''s Pok¨¦ball. 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 Pok¨¦mon 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¡ªlike 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 na?ve. 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? *_______________________________________* Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my Patreon. p@treon(.)com/GodDragcell Chapter 9: A Boys Room Is Always Messy but Never Dirty 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 Bidoof 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.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. 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¡ªbut 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 Pok¨¦mon¡¯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 Pok¨¦mon was ready to go. Behind it, flames of determination seemed to flicker. Not just behind¡ªit 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¡ªcleaning was now its responsibility. Watch and learn! Seeing the spirited little Pok¨¦mon 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¡ªit¡¯s completely falling apart.¡± ¡°The machine for making Pok¨¦Blocks 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 Pok¨¦mon. ¡°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 Pok¨¦mon. 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 Pok¨¦mon was lurking nearby. *________________________________________* Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my Patreon. p@treon(.)com/GodDragcell Chapter 10: Stealth Suits and the Pose of a Brooding Jock 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 Pok¨¦mon is no exception. Many Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon, 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 Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon with no concept of worldly riches. Peering at the seemingly silent two-story house nearby, the Pok¨¦mon confirmed it was completely dark and quiet. Although Persian, being nocturnal, might still be awake, living alongside Natsume had partially adjusted its habits.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. After careful "analysis," the Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon 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¡ªa familiar motion to anyone who¡¯s ever kept a pet. ¡°Bun.¡± Natsume, there¡¯s a strange Pok¨¦mon 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! *_________________________________________* Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my Patreon. p@treon(.)com/GodDragcell Chapter 11: Ogerpon - Hello A couple of minutes later, another pair of eyes joined the rooftop spectators. Apart from the Slakoth-like Buneary, which had dozed off in its nest and couldn''t be dragged out even after two tries, and the Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon 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?) "Hmm!" 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. "Hmmm!" 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¡ª "Hmm!" 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. "Hmm-hmm~" Hugging its hard-won "treasure," the small Pok¨¦mon spun around in joyous circles. A faint melody of delight seemed to drift in the wind, a clear testament to its excitement.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it 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 Pok¨¦mon hopped with glee, as if it had received the doll it always dreamed of. However, happiness is fleeting¡ªfor humans and Pok¨¦mon alike. The marbles weren¡¯t dropped or lost. No, the little Pok¨¦mon suddenly realized¡ªit 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 Pok¨¦mon¡¯s mind crashed entirely. No thoughts of escape plans or survival tactics remained¡ªjust 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. "Caaw!" "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¡ªgetting crushed outright¡ªwas, 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. "Hmm?" 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¡ªjust a calm, amused smile, as though he¡¯d witnessed something delightful. "Hmmm¡" After a moment¡¯s hesitation, the little Pok¨¦mon 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 Pok¨¦mon beneath the cloak.