"Feed troughs, chicken coops, and waterers — while you don't need to clean them daily, you should at least do it every few days to prevent bacteria from making the chicks sick."
"Managing the grounds is the most important job in the chicken house. Chicks can't control where they relieve themselves, so the floor gets covered in droppings. Not only does it smell bad, but it makes the environment dirty and unpleasant. It's best to clean every day."
"I've already had a fence built around the chicken house, so when it's sunny, the chicks can be let out to soak up some sun and stay healthy. Pecking at little stones in the soil also helps their digestion."
"That's pretty much the daily routine for taking care of the chicks. It seems simple, but you have to stick with it every day."
Lucas looked over the Pokémon applying for chicken house management, assigning each their tasks like a general picking his troops.
"Poliwhirls, can you handle the daily cleaning of the chicken house?"
The three Poliwhirls exchanged glances and happily accepted the job.
They weren't much good at Rain Dance, so watering the fields was better left to the big guys and Dragonair. This new work was just what they wanted.
"As for feeding and general care of the chicks, Dolliv, can I leave that to you?"
The little Dolliv accepted the task very seriously, already looking forward to the chicks' arrival.
Like the Poliwhirls, Dolliv was still weak, and its Grassy Terrain wasn't very effective yet, so it couldn't be as helpful as Comfey or Eldegoss.
Taking care of the chicks would be good training — and in spare time, it could keep practicing to evolve as soon as possible.
Ever since seeing Arcanine's evolution, Dolliv had been dreaming of its own final form.
It had even asked Lucas about its evolved form. Apparently, it would evolve into a Pokémon called Arboliva, known for its gentle and compassionate nature, reliable in the forest and adored by others.
Dolliv deeply admired that, determined to become such a Pokémon — and looking after the chicks would be the first step.
As Dolliv resolved itself, Lucas assigned the chicken house patrol to Dachsbun and Arcanine, having them keep watch when the chicks were outside to prevent any passing Flying Pokémon, like Talonflame, from preying on the chicks.
Tonight would be the fourth night since the system's notification. With a few hours left before sunset, Lucas took a fruit basket filled with farm produce and headed for Los Platos Town.
He planned to visit the hospitalized Jones couple and Peter, who'd been poisoned, and maybe gather more clues before night fell.
He was almost certain the poisoning Pokémon was Grafaiai, a Poison/Normal type, but still couldn't figure out its motive.
From Officer Jenny, Lucas had learned a lot.
For example, including his own farm, Grafaiai had poisoned food at four locations.
Why would Grafaiai fixate on poisoning edible goods at human farms and homes? Was it out for revenge?
Lucas hoped talking with the Jones couple would inspire some ideas.
But first, there was something else to do.
He headed straight to a local livestock farm in Los Platos Town.
He'd order some chicks, so by the time he finished visiting, they'd be delivered to his farm.
Los Platos Town Public Hospital, Room 209. This was the room of the Jones couple, owners of one of the main crop suppliers in Los Platos Town.
Lucas softly knocked after leaving Peter's room.
Unfortunately, all Peter had done was complain about his bad luck and mention his worker's comp — he didn't know anything useful, so Lucas soon left.
A gentle, slightly hoarse voice sounded inside the room, and Lucas could sense the speaker was still a bit weak.
"Come in."
Lucas opened the door. The smell of disinfectant was strong. The room's entrance was piled with get-well gifts — clearly, many had come to visit the Jones couple.
Raising an eyebrow, Lucas carefully stepped around the gifts.
In the room, the woman in the left bed was sound asleep and didn't react to his arrival.
On the right sat an elderly man with white hair, who pressed a finger to his dry lips and whispered, "Sorry, my wife's been having trouble sleeping because of the poisoning, but finally managed to rest. Please, just talk to me."
Lucas nodded, set the fruit basket aside, and sat beside the man's bed. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Jones. I'm Lucas — the one who bought the land near your farm."
Jones smiled. "Ah, you. Peter mentioned you."
Lucas nodded. "Actually, a few days ago, I experienced the same poisoning incident you did — the only difference was that I happened to discover the toxin in time."
"I was hoping you might have some clues about the culprit."
"I see." Jones lowered his head and sighed. "At the time, my wife, Peter, and I were entertaining an important buyer. We invited them to sample our crops — but we had no idea the produce had been poisoned. All of us, including the buyer, ended up in the hospital."
"It was all so sudden. Even now, we have no idea why someone would target us."
"I'm as angry as you, but I'm sorry, I really can't help you."
Jones's expression was full of regret.
"It's fine. Thank you for taking the time to talk with me."
As Lucas was about to leave, he noticed Mrs. Jones clutching an orange piece of clothing and raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Jones, what's that?"
Following his gaze, Jones realized, "Oh, that's our grandson's school uniform. He goes to Naranja Academy — quite the star student!"
"He often plays on the farm. My wife dotes on him, so I guess holding his uniform makes her feel safe — that's probably why she was finally able to sleep."