The Poké Ball on the ground shook a few tis before finally settling, signaling a successful capture.
Judging by the way it trembled, Gimmighoul was still a little reluctant. After all, their initial encounter had been far from friendly.
Ogerpon was practically itching to smash Gimmighoul’s head in. If it had a helt, it would have put it on by now.
"Bang."
The Poké Ball cracked open, and Gimmighoul erged in a flash of white light.
Landing on the ground, Gimmighoul glanced at Natsu.
"Gim."
What do I need to do? Or rather, what’s my role on this farm? What tasks am I expected to handle?
Gimmighoul asked directly.
"Work? Not really."
"What, are you so kind of workaholic?"
Natsu looked at Gimmighoul in mild surprise.
Most of the Pokémon on the farm were carefree and playful.
In short—simple, sweet, and a little naive.
Aside from Gardevoir, Gimmighoul was the first one to proactively ask for work.
Gardevoir had her reasons—she lacked a sense of security and wanted to prove her worth, to show that she had a aningful place on the farm.
Even if she wasn’t irreplaceable, she wanted to at least be helpful to Natsu.
But Gimmighoul…
"Gim?"
No work? You an you don’t expect anything from ?
Like battling, or sothing else?
Hearing Natsu’s response, Gimmighoul was the one who looked surprised.
In its understanding, humans captured Pokémon for only a few possible reasons:
One, to have them fight—pushing them into endless battles to bring honor and status to their Trainer.
Two, to put them to work—like those Caterpie farms where people caught Caterpie to harvest their silk.
So naturally, Gimmighoul assud Natsu had a similar reason for capturing it.
Even though… it had no idea what exactly it could do.
Gimmighoul was well aware of its own shortcomings.
Production work? Forget it.
It couldn’t produce anything. On the contrary, it needed Natsu to collect coins for it.
As for battle?
It wasn’t completely useless, but it was weak.
Aside from being a bit sturdier than average, it had no real advantages.
Surely, Natsu didn’t capture it just to use it as a punching bag… right?
Because if that was the case…
Then Gimmighoul had no choice but to accept its fate.
It couldn’t fight back. It couldn’t run away.
What else could it do?
Die dramatically on the spot?
"Of course not."
"This is a Pokémon farm, not a Pokémon factory."
"We don’t do that here."
Natsu couldn’t help but chuckle at Gimmighoul’s assumption.
It was such a classic impression of humans.
Many Pokémon who had never interacted with humans before tended to have these exact stereotypes.
And honestly? It made sense.
It was just like how many students' perceptions of society were entirely shaped by what they heard from others.
Which often led to misunderstandings.
Even after graduating, many people still carried those misconceptions.
It was simply a matter of perspective—people’s views were shaped by their experiences, or lack thereof.
For those who had always lived in peace, peace was sothing taken for granted.
For those who had grown up in war, life-and-death struggles were just part of everyday reality.
"Gim?"
You serious?
Gimmighoul eyed Natsu suspiciously, clearly not convinced that a human could be so kindhearted.
Its eyes still held the cautious distrust common among Ghost-type Pokémon.
If Natsu weren’t actively suppressing his aura, Gimmighoul would probably already be clinging to his arm, begging for head pats like a loyal pet.
"You’ll see for yourself."
Natsu didn’t bother explaining further.
Words were aningless in this situation.
No amount of eloquent speech could compare to real experiences.
No matter how beautifully sothing was described, it could never replicate the emotional impact of seeing it firsthand.
Once Gimmighoul saw the farm for itself, its opinion would naturally change.
Natsu didn’t expect Gimmighoul to imdiately fit in or get along with the other Pokémon.
That was unrealistic.
Even on the farm, there were still Pokémon who preferred solitude.
Forcing everyone to interact in the sa way would be arrogant and unreasonable.
On the way back, Natsu introduced Gimmighoul to the farm’s layout and the different groups living there.
Trailing behind him, Gimmighoul half-listened, half-drifted in its own thoughts.
The cheerful atmosphere and warm sunlight felt unfamiliar.
Sothing about this place didn’t seem suited for a Ghost-type like itself.
Previously, Gimmighoul had insisted on living in the warehouse—dark, isolated, and rarely disturbed.
A perfect habitat for an "edgy" Ghost Pokémon.
But Natsu refused.
Spending too much ti in darkness could lead to a darkened heart.
He didn’t expect Gimmighoul to beco so radiant, cheerful optimist.
But at the very least, it shouldn’t turn into a brooding recluse filled with nothing but negativity.
"From now on, you’re a senior now, so take good care of the newcors, alright?"
Hisuian Zorua recalled what Natsu had told it earlier.
Wait, does this an… I’m a senior now?
Still thinking of itself as a child, Zorua suddenly felt a strange sense of responsibility.
But at the sa ti, it was… exciting.
I’m a senior!
"Zor."
Call senior.
Zorua glanced at Natsu before scooting over to Gimmighoul and whispering.
"Gim!"
Senior!
Gimmighoul imdiately complied.
Hearing the word "senior" sent a pleasant shiver through Zorua’s body.
Even better than one of Natsu’s massages.
"Zor."
Again.
"Gim."
Senior.
And so, with every enthusiastic "senior," Hisuian Zorua gradually lost itself.
It completely forgot about the responsibilities Natsu had given it.
Well… not completely.
At the very least, it made sure to explain the farm’s food chain properly.
First and foremost—the supre ruler of the farm, the undisputed strongest, the unbeatable Lord Natsu.
This was the guy who could single-handedly pin down any Pokémon on the farm.
Then, second-in-command—Persian, the true boss cat.
Unlike Natsu, Persian played the role of enforcer, keeping order among the Pokémon.
But overall, the cat wasn’t too bad.
As Zorua continued explaining, Natsu, walking ahead, posted a request on the Trainer forums to buy Gimmighoul Coins.
Evolution would happen naturally when the ti was right.
At that mont, Natsu’s real focus was elsewhere—the competition he had signed up for.
"Registration confird, huh?"
Seeing the official ssage asking him to finalize his team details, Natsu decided that once he got back, he’d pick his roster for the upcoming tournant.
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