On the farm, those Pokémon close to Natsume were well aware that his i in participating in petitions had always been minimal.

  Being a professional traio gain fame and fortuhat idea held zero appeal for Natsume.

  After all, he had already achieved financial independence. He could wake up whenever he wanted, sleep whenever he pleased, and live life exactly as he liked.

  Being a professional traihat sounded her iing nor meaningful to him.

  For this reason, Natsume had never been particurly ined toward petitions.

  And, well...

  If you lot ’t eve me, what makes you think you’d fare better in a petition? (crossed out in his mind).

  paring ordinary Pokémon to a Hisuian superhuman like Natsume felt a bit unfair.

  “Why do you look so surprised?”

  “You’re ag as if I’ve said something unthinkable.”

  Looking at the incredulous expressions on Lopunny and Corviknight’s faces, Natsume chuckled softly.

  “I’ve actually thought about this quite seriously.”

  It probably started when his shiny Furret began its rigorous training. Natsume had realized that many of the Pokémon on his farm had a strong desire for battle.

  There were peaceful Pokémon, but there were also those who craved bat.

  Taking them out occasionally to participate in some matches wouldn’t be a bad idea.

  It would serve as a ge of pace for both him and the Pokémon on the farm.

  That said, Natsume had no iion of entering highly petitive formal tours.

  Supetitions required not just the Pokémon’s and trainer’s on-the-spot performa also meticulous preparation beforehand—researg oppos, devising strategies, deg the battle order, and analyzing attributes and movesets.

  And if things didn’t go acc to pn, you’d need tingency strategies.

  All of it sounded like way too much effort.

  Instead, Natsume preferred the straightforward overp force approach.

  However, he wasn’t yet at the level where he could crush all trainers with ease.

  Since he cked the power to dominate effortlessly, there was no point in aiming for world champion titles or the like.

  Natsume disliked the feeling of failure.

  If he attempted something, he wao succeed. The idea of failing and just brushing it off with a “better luext time” didn’t sit well with him.

  Perhaps it was a bit of cowardice or double standards, but Natsume erfectly fih that.

  The frustration and refle that came with failure? Totally unnecessary, in his opinion.

  “Loo.”

  After listening to Natsume’s reasoning, Lopunny nodded in uanding.

  It shared his distaste for failure.

  For wild Pokémon, failure ofte death—failing to find food meant starvation; failing to hide meant being hunted; failing to escape meah.

  Even after living on the farm for a long time, that instinct to avoid failure was ingrained in its very being.

  By not attempting risky endeavors, you elimihe ce of failure entirely.

  Lopunny wholeheartedly agreed with Natsume’s philosophy.

  “Caw!”

  From the rooftop, Corviknight also voiced its approval.

  After hearing Natsume’s pn, it picked up on two key words: easy wins.

  Say no more—this was right up its alley!

  Corviknight was a master at defeating weaker oppos. With its simple yet effective strategy of bining Iron Defense and Brave Bird, it was a nightmare for Pokémon less powerful than itself.

  Oppos couldn’t break through its defense, while its retaliatory strike could strip them of their dignity.

  “Lopunny, are you going?”

  “Loo.”

  Lopunny shook its head, expressing no i in battles. It erfectly tent with a peaceful life on the farm, occasionally eaining itself with a smartphone.

  Yes, Natsume had bought phones for many of his Pokémon.

  Pokémon like Lopunny and Zorua were particurly fond of them.

  Corviknight, oher hand, was a full-blown i addict.

  If not for its physical structure being ill-suited for esports, it would’ve sidered going pro. After all, it believed it was far superior to the inpetent pyers it saw online, whose absurdly bad gamepy made them seem almost inhuman.

  Back to the matter at hand.

  “Though I’m thinking about entering petitions, it’s not happening anytime soon.”

  Natsume chuckled as he patted Lopunny on the head.

  For now, it was just an idea.

  Of course, he did io participate eventually.

  First, he o decide whion t along, and sed, he had to sele appropriate petition.

  His pn was to start with a small-town or ty-level tour—essentially, starting in a small pond to build fidence.

  Once he gained some momentum, he could sider bigger petitions.

  “Loo.”

  Lopunny nodded before hopping off to handle some chores.

  Usually, Mino was in charge of ing. It enjoyed housekeeping and initially took on the role because it couldn’t stand Natsume’s habit of stuffing clothes haphazardly into his wardrobe.

  After kig him in disapproval, it began tidying things itself.

  In short, Natsume had been deemed unworthy.

  As a single guy living alone, he couldn’t be expected to meet high standards. In his mind, he was already doing his best.

  But nowadays, Lopunny had taken over many of the household chores.

  For some reason, seeing Lopunny “stealing” Mino’s job made Natsume think of certain fantasy novel cepts.

  For instance, how a divine being of fertility might carve out a fragment of authority from another deity’s domain.

  Perhaps Lopunny had “cimed” a portion of Mino’s housekeeping authority?

  The sudden shift in to oddly jarring, almost surreal.

  “ht. Make sure Mino tidies up the living room.”

  “The gifts for everyone will arrive soon.”

  “When they do, I’ll need everyone’s help to sort them out. Corviknight, don’t think you sck off.”

  As if remembering something, Natsume called out to Lopunny as it headed out.

  “Loo loo.”

  Lopunny nodded and hopped away.

  Hearing the wifts, Corviknight’s eyes lit up.

  A present!

  When it arrived, it would make sure to stand out and leave everyone in awe!

  Its usually stoic bird face was now filled with uncharacteristiticipation and delight.

  For a creature with such a majestic appearas demeanor ofte like a waste of its good looks.

  Gcell