Saffron City, Fighting Dojo.
Grey sat on the couch, scrolling through his DMs.
Most were people asking to battle him—or sending goofy lines.
Some even wanted him to hawk products on stream.
He turned all the sponsorship pitches down.
He streamed to build his name and make a little pocket change; if he started doing product pushes, the stream's whole vibe would have to change.
Selling out his base for a few bucks? Not happening.
After skimming the inbox, Grey tapped into a DM from "Natural of the Black."
[Natural of the Black: Hello, streamer.]
Just four words, then nothing.
That was also the platform's policy—if you didn't get a reply, strangers could only send one DM per day to avoid harassing creators.
[Dojo Annihilape: Hey boss, here's my private LINE. If anything comes up, DM me there~]
[Natural of the Black: Okay.]
After they added each other on LINE, Grey opened the avatar: a small black fox Pokémon.
One look and he knew—it was a Zorua.
Sure enough, someone from Unova.
[Natural of the Black: I want to ask… the things you said on stream—how do I actually put them into practice?]
Starting with a pretty abstract question.
Grey poured himself some water, took a sip, then typed, unhurried.
[Grey: This isn't something you grasp overnight. I think what you need most is to calm down and focus on what you love, without getting swayed by outside noise.]
[Grey: Give it a month or two and the outline will be there in your head. Right now, you're too impatient. (Squirtle scratching head.jpg)]
[Natural of the Black: How did you know? (Zorua confused.jpg)]
[Grey: The way you typed told me what you're thinking.]
[Natural of the Black: Okay, thank you.]
[Grey: You're welcome—reach out again anytime~]
After that last message, the other side went quiet.
——
Unova region, Victory Road.
Hidden off a path toward the depths of Victory Road, an old castle held a room steeped in childlike whimsy.
A huge slide stood in one corner; all kinds of candy were laid out nearby; a few Poké Balls rested quietly.
A green-haired young man lifted a gold crown with a lumpy, pitted surface and set it on a Zorua's head.
"Ehee~" (N, love you~)
Zorua nuzzled his cheek, pink tongue flicking out to give him a quick lick.
The lick made N laugh. He stepped forward a few paces; the Menger sponge charm hanging at his belt clinked and jingled.
His phone lay to the side, screen lit—open to his chat with Grey.
Click…
The door's lock turned. N stiffened, his face flattening back to that placid, empty calm.
He couldn't see the figure yet, but he dipped his head slightly and greeted the person behind him with respect. "Father…"
"Mm."
A middle-aged man in wide, sage-like robes—faded green hair, cane in hand—walked in, the cane tapping the floor.
This was Ghetsis, N's adoptive father—a man with a fearsome need for control.
Noticing the lit phone screen, Ghetsis quickened his steps, scooped it up, and read the chat carefully.
Slowly, a storm crossed his face. He wanted to speak but didn't know where to begin.
Call it wasting time? But N had asked about matters related to the twin dragons.
He was even thinking about taking both dragons at once.
On that point, Ghetsis was… supportive.
But the problem was—
Why in the blazes did you tip a gift worth 180,000?!
Ghetsis clutched his chest; he nearly coughed blood.
One hundred eighty thousand—had he been away from the real world so long he forgot prices?!
No…
If he crushed N over this, the boy might do something even more extreme later!
Ghetsis forced his expression back into place, though the thought of N dropping 180,000 on a live stream kept stabbing his heart.
"Father, I…"
Catching Ghetsis's look, N started to explain.
But the Zorua in his arms tucked itself deeper against his chest. N let the explanation go and stroked its smooth fur.
"It's fine, N. All is for Ideal and Truth!"
"Yes—everything is for Ideal and Truth!!"
Whether or not he convinced N, Ghetsis had at least convinced himself.
He shelved the 180,000 for now, his face returning to its usual cold authority.
He fixed his gaze on N, voice heavy: "There's news about the Dark Stone. It's at the top of Dragonspiral Tower. Find time to go—prove your ideals to Zekrom."
"You are the king of Team Plasma, the one with the purest ideals!"
His sage's robe snapped in an unseen wind. In his pupils, N's silhouette seemed small; Ghetsis looked like a mad dragon, ready to swallow him whole.
"I understand, Father."
N met Ghetsis's eyes, calm and steady, and nodded.
"Mm. For the liberation of Pokémon!"
With that, Ghetsis left and locked N inside again.
——
Two days passed in a blink.
In the meantime, Daisy and Sabrina both passed inspection by the two League examiners and earned the right to enter the Gym bracket.
Even Karen praised Daisy's progress, saying the Cerulean Gym had a promising future.
That one line kept Daisy smiling for days.
Cerulean Gym used to be anything but "promising"—it was the kind of place you could steamroll with a single Pikachu.
Now, with that "promising" label, at least it proved Cerulean wasn't phoning it in anymore.
The harder you work, the luckier you get!
Two days ago, Daisy left the Fighting Dojo humming a cheerful tune, leaving a strong impression on Grey.
Besides that, Poliwag evolved into Poliwhirl, and the Pokémon Egg Officer Jenny had given him hatched yesterday.
It was a healthy Galarian Farfetch'd; when it hefted that stout leek—bigger than itself—it had the power to split stone.
Today, one day old, Farfetch'd was on its routine patrol of its territory.
Its turf sat next to Articuno's, and lately it liked to backtalk the bird.
"Gass." (Hey, you're in the way.)
Farfetch'd raised the leek and swished the dark green leaves like a broom a few times.
"Ling!" (A hatch-day-old duck talking that big? Do you even know who I, Articuno, am?)
Articuno lay on its side, wings fanning lazily, unmoved by Farfetch'd's words.
"Alright, alright—picking a fight with a one-day-old hatchling? That's a new low, even for you."
Grey shot Articuno a look.
Just then, his phone chimed.
A closer look—it was a message from Lorelei.
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