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 overti 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A large yellow spider with piercing blue eyes stared at the outdated generator.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 sohow,” 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 ti in stories was surprisingly low.
“Yimo.”
So hungry…
The little squirrel idly scratched its paw as its stomach rumbled.
Living in the wild ant 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 eting 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.
anwhile, 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 in,” it mused. “Rely on my adorable looks and live a cushy life.”
As it daydread, the warehouse doors creaked open.
Bright sunlight spilled in, chasing away the gloom.
The sudden burst of light dazzled the Pokémon, who had grown accustod 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 mont, 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 soone 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 glead, 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!”
Natsu’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.
Natsu’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 na 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, Natsu’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 na’s Natsu, and I’m the owner of this farm.”
“No need to be nervous.”
He paused for a second, nearly blurting out sothing inappropriate, before continuing.
Raising his hand, Natsu 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.
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