Pokémon: Farm Story

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."

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