By the time Lucas reached the Pokémon Center in Los Platos, the rain was coming down in sheets.
Fortunately, he'd timed his trip well.
A long stretch after leaving the farm's stone path was all dirt road.
On rainy days, dirt roads are the very definition of a nightmare.
Once soaked, the mud would easily cake a clean pair of shoes in yellow sludge, and the puddles formed by the ruts and bumps were nightmares within the nightmare.
But today, the downpour didn't start until he had already reached the town's proper concrete pavement.
Now only his cuffs and toe tips were flecked with dirty splashback—far better than dealing with mud.
At the Pokémon Center entrance, Lucas shook off his umbrella and hung it on the purpose-built rack by the door before heading in.
As he stepped forward, he glanced out at the pouring rain and thought that when the sun came out after the storm, Mudsdale would be thrilled.
After all, there'd be fresh puddles everywhere to play in.
As the automatic doors slid open, soothing music drifted to Lucas's ears.
Probably because of the rain, the Los Platos Pokémon Center wasn't crowded; there were few Trainers, and most people were merely taking shelter.
Among Paldea's many cities, Los Platos isn't exactly a Trainer magnet. Nurse Joy—far more at leisure than her counterparts in Mesagoza or Levincia—was watching the only hanging TV in the lobby with the other rain refugees, catching the morning Paldea news.
Along the wall, a few people with damp shoulders and hair were using the Center's landlines, speaking with troubled expressions.
From their clothes, Lucas didn't need to guess: office workers caught without umbrellas, calling in to request leave.
Lucas found the technology of this world oddly skewed.
There are Poké Balls that store Pokémon, space packs that can hold piles of room-filling items, and yet people still rely on landlines and phone booths, and prefer watching TV; among ordinary residents, smartphones are surprisingly rare.
Even Iono-related streams—something Lucas remembered as wildly popular—didn't have the numbers he expected.
Rotom Phones haven't been invented yet; Clemont's Rotom Dex is still just an idea. Still, it's strange that ordinary folks avoid phones and even computers, which are mostly for work—while Trainers use them more.
Maybe things will improve in a few years.
With that, Lucas approached Nurse Joy and asked if she had any basic texts on pharmacology.
Because he'd previously come here to have his Delibird take a psychological test and had borrowed related books, Nurse Joy had a good impression of him.
But as the most skilled medical professional in the Center, she knew pharmacy is complicated, and asked, concerned, "Are you planning to make medicine yourself?"
"That's the plan."
Lucas nodded, taking out a wooden case he'd kept dry, and opened it to show her a Herba Mystica: Sour Herba.
"I recently acquired a few of these rare plants. I'm thinking of combining them with some mild medicinal herbs, putting them into a Shuckle to brew a potion."
"May I take a look?"
Rather than answer immediately, she politely asked to examine the herb.
"Of course."
Lucas handed over the case. Since he'd come to her, this level of trust was only reasonable.
Joy accepted the box and examined the precious herb he spoke of.
Judging by looks, it resembled a tea twig with yellow leaves more than a medicinal plant.
Wafting it without contaminating it, a distinct sour aroma spread through her sinuses, making her mouth water involuntarily.
"This…"
It felt less like an herb and more like something you'd pound up and use as seasoning, despite looking like a tea sprig.
Could this really have medicinal effects?
Doubt flashed in her eyes, but she considered that Lucas wasn't the sort to make such a novice mistake—or to mess with her.
With a polite yet awkward smile, Joy said tactfully, "This might be more suited to medicinal cuisine."
Lucas understood her reaction.
In the games, Herba Mystica is crushed and sprinkled on food—powerful enough to fully restore a near-death Mabosstiff, or unlock Koraidon/Miraidon's sealed forms after losing to their kin.
Saying he'd make a medicine from it would indeed be puzzling to Nurse Joy.
But that was only because she didn't know what Herba Mystica could do.
If she saw its effects with her own eyes, she'd understand why he wanted to brew medicine with it.
With that in mind, Lucas plucked a leaf of the Sour Herba under Joy's surprised gaze and asked, "Do you have a Pokémon who's extremely fatigued and currently recovering?"
"I'd like to demonstrate what this plant can do."
Joy led him into the treatment area deep inside the Center.
As in the anime, each Pokémon had its own room, with unfamiliar but impressive medical equipment.
At room 018, Joy opened the door and stepped aside for a clear view.
On the bed lay a small brown fox, electrodes with white leads attached to its body, sleeping soundly.
Its fur was mostly brown, with creamy fluff at the neck and tail tip.
Its long, rabbit-like ears drooped weakly onto the soft bed, limbs curled slightly, hiding its pink pads.
Its breathing was a bit rapid; even its little black nose wasn't enough—its mouth was slightly open, exhaling quick breaths.
This was an Eevee, a Pokémon with many evolutionary paths. Judging by the heart-shaped cream mark at the tail tip, this Eevee was female.
"It seems she was hurt fighting a wild Pokémon. A Los Platos resident found her at dawn and brought her here," Joy said softly, worry lingering in her expression. "Her injuries are mostly treated, but she's dehydrated and exhausted from the battle. I've replenished her fluids with saline, but recovery of stamina isn't instant, even though I got a Sitrus Berry into her while she was out."
Joy's concern wasn't about Eevee's overall prognosis—food and a day or two of rest would do it.
She was worried whether Lucas's herb would actually help—or cause harm.
But since she'd brought him into the ward, she'd decided to trust him—and had called in her partner, Chansey, ready to take over at any time.
Holding a small bowl of crushed Sour Herba leaf, and after listening carefully to Joy's report, Lucas nodded, set the bowl down, gently lifted Eevee's head, and spooned the medicine into her mouth, bit by bit.
Since Eevee was in deep sleep and likely couldn't chew or swallow well, he'd added a little water to help her swallow unconsciously.
Eevee was tiny; Lucas could easily cradle her head with one hand and feed her with a Center-sized spoon.
He'd only used one leaf, and the water barely covered the bottom of the bowl; a few spoonfuls, and it was gone.
The sourness made Eevee scrunch her face even in sleep, her features practically collapsing inward.
Her little paws waved unconsciously, as if trying to escape the infernal sourness, but her body was so weak it looked more like a cute plea.
Her soft pads fell against his arm; Lucas, far from annoyed, looked utterly charmed and chuckled.
Joy, tense-faced, monitored the readings from the electrodes.
For the first three minutes, the numbers didn't change, and Joy didn't relax—many foods and herbs need time.
At the ten-minute mark, something finally shifted.
"This is…"
Staring at the screen, Joy's eyes went wide.