There was no way around it.
Whitney had already said that the original owner of this ranch would only lease the entire property. If her father wanted to rent just a portion, the deal would be off the table.
"Grandpa!"
Whitney waved toward an elderly man shoveling hay near the pasture. Around him, several Miltank were calmly grazing, their thick pink bodies swaying as they chewed fresh green grass. Large milk cans stood neatly beside the barn, still warm from the morning's milking.
"Whitney? You brought guests?"
Inside the wooden cabin near the ranch, Whitney's grandfather welcomed Ash and Sabrina with a warm smile. He poured freshly drawn Miltank milk into wooden cups and handed them over.
"Go on, taste it."
Sabrina took a sip first.
"Mm… It's wonderful," she said softly, eyes narrowing in contentment. "It's even better than I remember from when I was younger."
Ash accepted the cup as well. Truthfully, he had never been particularly fond of milk growing up, so he rarely drank it. But this time, as the fresh Miltank milk touched his lips, something felt different.
After swallowing, he paused.
There it was.
A faint, almost imperceptible restorative energy flowing through his body.
It was subtle—very subtle—but undeniably real.
"There's a mild recovery effect in this milk," Ash said thoughtfully. "It's small, but it exists. The environment here must be extremely suitable for raising Miltank."
Whitney's grandfather beamed with pride. There was no greater compliment for a rancher than having the quality of his Pokémon's produce recognized.
"I told you!" Whitney puffed out her chest proudly. "Grandpa's Miltank are the best!"
She lifted her glass and gulped the rest down in one go.
Ash fell silent for a moment.
Fantasy Island.
In the future, the residents there would have children. Instead of importing dairy from other regions, why not establish a dedicated supply line now? The Dream Forest's vegetation was far superior to ordinary pastureland. If Miltank were raised there, the quality of their milk could reach an entirely new level.
A Fantasy Island Milk Ranch…
The idea had merit.
Just as Ash was considering how to bring it up, Whitney's grandfather suddenly stared at him intently.
His brows furrowed.
Then his eyes widened.
"I… I'm terribly sorry!" the old man said abruptly, straightening his back. "I didn't realize the Champion of Kanto was standing in my ranch. I failed to recognize you."
Whitney blinked. "Grandpa? What are you talking about?"
"Whitney, this young man is no ordinary Trainer," her grandfather said seriously. "He is the strongest Champion in the Kanto region—the hero who saved two regions during the Articuno incident."
Whitney's jaw dropped.
"W–Wait! Ash is a Champion-level Trainer?!"
She stared at him in disbelief. He looked about the same age as her—maybe even younger. She herself had only reached Elite level strength so far. Even among League Trainers, that was considered respectable for her age… but Champion?
That was a completely different world.
"What's so surprising?" Ash shrugged helplessly. "Champions are human too."
He was used to these reactions by now. Every time someone discovered his identity, the same stunned expression appeared.
Whitney continued staring at him, eyes shining with admiration.
"I've never even seen a Champion before. Not even my dad has."
Her envy was obvious—but so was her determination.
She wanted to reach that height one day.
Ash set his cup down gently.
"Grandpa," he said calmly, meeting the old man's eyes, "if you're willing… would you consider relocating this ranch to Fantasy Island?"
Whitney froze.
Her grandfather stiffened slightly.
Ash continued, voice steady.
"You've probably heard some news about Fantasy Island. The ecological environment there is exceptional. The pasture quality far surpasses most regions. If your Miltank were raised there, the milk's restorative properties could become even stronger."
He paused, then added:
"And it wouldn't just be relocation. It would be exclusive supply. A dedicated ranch for Fantasy Island's future residents."
The room fell silent.
Outside, the Miltank let out a soft, contented cry as they continued grazing beneath the sun.
Ash's Fantasy Island was already famous. Even in regions where people had never seen it, they had certainly heard of it—especially in Jhoto, which bordered Kanto.
"Of course I've heard of it," Whitney's grandfather said slowly. "There are even rumors calling it a sanctuary for both humans and Pokémon. Half city, half forest… a very unusual layout."
He paused, then sighed.
"But even if I agreed to relocate, raising Miltank requires extremely demanding environmental conditions."
To be honest, he had long been disappointed with the Jhoto League. Every year he paid heavy taxes, yet no one came to offer support. Not when the ranch struggled. Not when Whitney faced pressure maintaining the Goldenrod Gym. There had been no assistance—only silence.
Ash caught that flicker of dissatisfaction.
"You don't need to worry about the pasture," he said calmly. "The grass in Fantasy Island's Dream Forest is far superior to what you have here. If you'd like… I can show you."
Whitney's grandfather hesitated, then nodded.
"Very well."
They walked toward the main grazing field where around fifty Miltank were resting or lazily chewing grass.
Ash stepped forward.
He formed hand seals instinctively—movements drawn from Mokuton principles—and a dense vitality began to radiate from his body.
It spread outward like an invisible tide.
The grass beneath his feet trembled.
Then—
It surged.
Blades thickened. Roots deepened. The once-ordinary pasture transformed, expanding rapidly as though fueled by a surge of life itself. The air filled with the rich scent of fresh vegetation.
The Miltank reacted immediately.
"Moo—!"
They lifted their heads, eyes bright, and rushed forward. The revitalized grass was brimming with life energy, far more nourishing than anything they had tasted before. They began eating eagerly, almost greedily.
Whitney stared, speechless.
Her grandfather's hands trembled slightly.
"This… what is this ability?"
He had never seen such power before. It wasn't simply Pokémon strength. It felt different—deeper.
Sabrina stepped forward and answered calmly.
"There's no need to be alarmed. This is one of Ash's abilities. He can control plant life—every blade of grass, every tree."
She glanced at the expanding pasture.
"The vegetation he creates carries extraordinary vitality. Half of the forest on Fantasy Island exists because of this power."
Whitney's grandfather looked around at the thriving field, at the Miltank devouring the enriched grass, their coats already seeming glossier.
This wasn't exaggeration.
This wasn't rumor.
If such an environment existed permanently…
Then the quality of the milk produced here would surpass anything in Jhoto—perhaps even Kanto.
Whitney swallowed.
"Grandpa… if our Miltank lived somewhere like this…"
She didn't finish the sentence.
She didn't need to.
The answer was already growing right beneath their feet.
(End of Chapter)
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