Early in the m, Natsume woke naturally from his sleep and stretched zily before climbing out of bed. His hair was a chaotic mess, resembling a bird's .
Siaking over the farm, the biggest ge in Natsume’s lifestyle was that he no longer needed an arm clock.
Every day, he could sleep as long as he wanted, with no worries about oversleeping. He could go to bed whenever he liked at night without needing to fret about being too tired the m.
Work and school? Those didn’t matter anymore. The only priority was sleeping fortably.
“Somehow, we ended up chatting until te,” he murmured. “I hope Mei didn’t oversleep.”
Looking at the st message on his phone—“Goodnight” sent at 1:30 AM—Natsume felt a tinge of .
If he hadn’t noticed how te it was and stopped their versation, they could have easily chatted for another hour or two.
Normally, Natsume wouldn’t miending the versation. After all, who would turn down the ce to chat with a like-minded, beautiful girl?
But Mei had mentiohat she nning to challenge a gym today, so she had to wake up early.
Unlike in anime where gym challenges could happen at any time, real-life Pokémon gyms operated quite differently.
Apart from the standard 18 type gyms, every major city had its own provincial and municipal gyms. However, the number of gyms wasn’t enough to meet the overwhelming demand from trainers.
Most gyms required challeo book an appoi on their official website. Depending on the number of challengers, the wait time could extend to one or two weeks.
Missing an appoi was a hassle.
“But it should be fine, right? Mei’s Servine is reliable enough to keep her on track.”
Although Mei could be a little absentmi times, her Servine endable and posed presen her team.
Most trainers had at least one Pokémon in their party that acted like a responsible parent—or perhaps a nurturing mother.
These Pokémoypically among the stro ieam, with keen minds and the ability to maintain harmony among the rest of the group.
They also teo look after their trainers.
This dynamic was especially noticeable in teams belonging to less reliable trainers.
Mei’s Servine and Natsume’s Persiahese roles well.
However, while Servine had to bas duties as Mei’s caretaker and oversee the retly captured Bou, Persian had it retively easy.
pared to Servine’s meticulous work, Persian mostly focused on disciplining new and unruly Pokémon by smag them into line.
“Lopunny!”
The door creaked open, and a Lopunny wearing an apron walked in, carrying a fresh set of clothes for Natsume.
After slipping into his usual bck jacket, white T-shirt, and bck trousers, Natsume was ready to start another day.
Meanwhile, his shiny Furret, who shared his bed every night, had long siarted its m routine.
If Natsume stood by the window now, he’d see the shiny Furret leading a whole gang of Furret in a chaotic charge.
The shiny Furret had bee the unchallenged ruler of the farm, with sheer o back its dominance.
While only the shiny one could actually fight, there were so many Furret that it didn’t matter.
They were sed only to the farm’s many Grass-type Pokémon in numbers.
Given that it was a farm, it naturally attracted a wide variety of Bug- and Grass-type Pokémon.
Fortunately, the shiny Furret was well-behaved a its gang in check, so no major flicts had broken out.
“Caw!”
Ah! The sun shines upon my majesti!
Ah! Praise the sun!
On the rooftop, Corviknight spread its wings, basking in the m sunlight.
Its dark feathers gleamed like polished metal in the light, making it look less like a living Pokémon and more like a finely crafted statue.
After a while, it sighed softly.
Being invincible is so lonely.
Although it hadn’t yet issued its 78th challeo Persian, based on its experience of losing 77 times, Corviknight felt optimistic.
I may not have wo, but I’m a three-stage evolution Pokémon, and Persian’s only a two-stage! I’m still young—the odds are in my favor!
The previous night, uo sleep after its evolution, Corviknight had scoured the i for information about itself.
While many cimed that Corviknight was just a “utility bird” rarely used as a Champion’s main fighter, Corviknight proudly decred:
You’re right, but that’s the beauty of Corviknight! With a base stat total of 495, 98 HP, and 105 Special Defense, I take hits!
With a Hidden Ability, Protect, Iron Defense, and Brave Bird, plus Gigantamax potential, I’m unstoppable!
Flying/Steel typing? No quadruple weaknesses, only two doubles! Four double resistances and five singles, including Dragon and Psychic!
Immunity to Poison and Ground? Yes, please.
Of course, when it came to actual battles... AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!
The previous night, Corviknight had gotten into an online argument and became so worked up that its screams woke up Persian, who promptly beat it into submission.
Even Gardevoir had to set up a psychic barrier to prevent the noise from disturbing Natsume.
When Persian learned of this, it hit even harder.
Still, Corviknight refused to t this as its 78th loss, insisting it was an unfair sneak attack.
As a frequent visitor to online forums, Corviknight often borrowed strategies and tactics from other users to try in battles—with some success.
Most Pokémon who battled Corviknight ended up at least slightly “tilted.”
“M, Corviknight! You seem lively today,” Natsume called out from the window.
From his angle, all he could see was Corviknight’s slightly round belly.
Lately, it seemed to be eating a bit too much.
“I might o find more things to keep you occupied,” Natsume mused, eyeing Corviknight thoughtfully.
“Caw!”
Good m, boss! Today’s anreat day!
Corviknight’s cold, aloof demeanor vanished as it chirped enthusiastically, its dark face suddenly looking rather ingratiating.
It wasn’t afraid to push back against Persian, but it couldn’t afford to upset Natsume—what if he cut its food rations?
“So, how about entering a tour?” Natsume suddenly asked.
“Caw?”
“Lop?”
Corviknight, basking in the sun, and Lopunny, tidying the room, both blinked in fusion.
Had they misheard?
Gcell
