“We’re not suspicious people; we’re just Trainers.”
“Oh? And what do you want?”
The mayor frowned slightly, pulling his Mr. Mi 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 soone specifically asking for Natsu’s farm.
And they claim to be Trainers?
Thankfully, these were peaceful tis. 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 so "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 Overachievent:
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 soone 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. Mi wasn’t one to be underestimated.
(Mr. Mi: “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 beco Trainers. While browsing the web, they stumbled upon a travel blog that highly recomnded Natsu’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 co back stronger!
“Ah, I see,” the mayor nodded, though still skeptical.
“I’ll give Natsu a call and see if he’s okay with it.” He pulled out his phone slowly, dialing.
“But let warn you,” he said, “Natsu 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 deanor of his generation.
Deep down, he was already prepared for this.
If Natsu 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...
“Natsu says I can take you to him,” the mayor announced, putting away his phone.
Though the mayor thought it unnecessary for Natsu to bother with these kids, he wouldn’t interfere with Natsu’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 farr. Maybe I’ll give him so berries as a gift.”
Ten minutes later...
“Mr. Natsu, 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, rcilessly pumled 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 Natsu’s Furret.
Now, the shiny Furret, with a nacing 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 sothing the mayor had said earlier:
“Natsu doesn’t have that much strength, you know.”
...What was that again?
He couldn’t quite rember anymore.
Reviews
All reviews (0)