Apoorv and the others returned just as the sun dipped low enough to turn the sea gold.
Dinner turned into a small celebration without anyone meaning it to. Grilled fish crackled over open flame, rice steamed in big metal vessels, and the salty air carried laughter the way it used to—before zones, before alerts, before the world learned new rules.
Grandma sat at the head of the table, completely in her element.
She told stories.
Embarrassing ones.
Stories about me falling into irrigation canals as a kid, about Sagar stealing mangoes and blaming monkeys, about how Grandpa once tried to show off by swimming too far out and had to be dragged back by half the village.
My friends listened like this was some legendary lore.
By the time dinner ended, everyone was full, relaxed, and just a little overwhelmed by how normal everything felt.
That didn't last long.
The next morning, I woke early.
Too early.
The sea was calm, but I could feel it—depth, pressure, something vast waiting beyond sight.
I found Grandpa already outside, tying rope and checking equipment like this was just another day.
"I want to see the Lapras zone," I said.
He didn't even hesitate.
"Alright," he replied. "We'll leave once the tide shifts."
I turned to Apoorv and the others.
"You're coming too."
They exchanged looks—part excitement, part nerves.
"This isn't sightseeing," I added. "You need to learn how to engage Pokémon stronger than you. Not fight. Engage."
That sobered them.
We set out not long after.
Everyone except me rode on Gyarados.
Watching my friends cling awkwardly to his massive back while trying to look dignified was… entertaining. Gyarados didn't mind. He moved smoothly, cutting through the waves like the ocean itself was parting for him.
I rode above on Pidgeot.
The higher perspective reminded me why I trusted her so completely—wind, distance, awareness. From the air, the sea wasn't empty. It was layered. Currents shifted color subtly, light bent differently in deeper stretches, and Pokémon silhouettes moved far below the surface like drifting shadows.
Ten miles out, the sea changed.
The water grew clearer, colder.
Sound felt… muted.
"This is it," Grandpa called up.
I signaled Pidgeot to descend.
Five Lapras surfaced almost immediately.
Massive, calm, ancient.
They didn't rush us.
Didn't threaten.
Didn't retreat.
They simply appeared—as if they'd been there the whole time and were only now acknowledging us.
The largest Lapras moved forward.
Scars marked her shell—not fresh, but not ancient either. Experience, not decay.
She let out a low, resonant call.
Gyarados answered.
A measured sound—deep, respectful, layered with intent.
I didn't understand the language.
But I understood the posture.
This wasn't dominance.
This was negotiation.
The Lapras leader listened.
Her eyes shifted—not to me first, but to Apoorv and the others on Gyarados's back.
Assessing.
Judging.
Then—finally—she looked at me.
I stepped forward onto the water's surface, letting my balance settle.
"I'm not here to take your territory," I said calmly. "And I'm not here to force your kind into human systems."
The sea remained still.
"But people live off this coast," I continued. "And Pokémon live in this sea. If either side starves, balance breaks."
The Lapras leader's call changed pitch—curious now.
"I want to create feeding grounds," I said. "Underwater farms. Zones where prey regenerates faster than it's hunted."
A ripple passed through the group.
"I want migration corridors," I added. "Safe paths where your kind can move without interference."
I paused.
"And in return," I said, "we'll regulate fishing. Stop overharvesting. Protect your young. And prevent aggressive outsiders from destabilizing this region."
Silence stretched.
Then—
The Lapras leader dipped her head slightly.
Not agreement.
Consideration.
She called again.
This time, Gyarados turned his head toward me, eyes steady.
"She wants proof," Grandpa said quietly. "Not words."
I nodded.
"That's fair."
I turned to Apoorv and the others.
"Watch," I said. "This is how you deal with power."
I pulled out my tablet—not the Pokédex, but a schematic.
Underwater plant arrays.
Current-fed nutrient dispersal.
Pokémon-compatible algae strains.
Harvest limits built into growth cycles.
"This is what we're offering," I said, projecting the image onto the water's surface. "Not control. Cooperation."
The Lapras leader stared.
Long.
Then she let out a sound that vibrated through my bones.
The water around us moved.
Not violently.
Deliberately.
Shapes surfaced farther out—more Lapras, watching from a distance.
The leader turned back to Gyarados.
Another exchange.
Slower now.
Thoughtful.
Finally—
She faced me again.
And nodded.
Once.
Apoorv exhaled sharply behind me.
I didn't smile.
This wasn't a victory.
It was the beginning of responsibility.
"Good," I said quietly. "Then we'll start small."
The sea around us seemed to breathe again.
As we turned back toward shore, I glanced at my friends.
They were silent.
Not scared.
Awed.
That was good.
Because if they were going to inherit this world—
They needed to understand something fundamental.
Battles were loud.
Negotiations were quiet.
And the quiet ones decided the future.
I reached into my bag and took out a sealed container of Pokémon food.
Not the general-purpose kind.
The good kind.
Formulated for endurance, recovery, and long-term nutrition—something Water-types actually benefited from, not just tolerated.
I held it out, palm open.
"There's one more thing," I said calmly. "We need your agreement to mine the Water Stones in this zone."
The water around us stilled again.
I didn't rush.
"In return," I continued, "we'll provide specialized food like this—tailored for Water Pokémon. And any of yours that are injured, exhausted, or sick will be treated by us. No traps. No capture. No ownership."
The Lapras leader leaned forward slightly, nostrils flaring as she sensed the food. One of the smaller Lapras drifted closer, curiosity evident.
Water Stones meant nothing to Lapras.
They didn't evolve with them.
Didn't depend on them.
Didn't hoard them.
After a moment—long enough to show she was actually considering the trade—the leader nodded.
Once.
Agreement.
I let out a slow breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
We offered the food. She accepted it without ceremony, distributing portions among the others with a quiet authority that spoke of experience. No scrambling. No greed.
Order.
With that settled, we began heading back toward shore.
Gyarados turned smoothly, waves rolling away from his massive body as if giving him space. I flew alongside on Pidgeot, letting the salt wind clear my head.
Only once we were a safe distance away did I speak to Grandpa.
"I'll give you the right to mine the Water Stones," I said. "But everything goes through the government. No private selling."
He didn't even frown.
"In return," I continued, "you'll receive thirty percent of the profits."
He nodded immediately.
"I'm not doing this for money," he said simply. "As long as it funds the water farms and keeps the sea stable, that's enough."
That answer didn't surprise me.
It reassured me.
"There's one more thing," I said.
He glanced at me.
"I want you and Grandma to become the guardians of this area."
He slowed slightly, Gyarados responding instinctively.
"That's fine," Grandpa said after a moment. "But your grandma doesn't have a powerful Pokémon."
I almost laughed.
"That's not true," I replied.
He looked at me, confused.
"You have Gyarados," I said. "That alone deters most threats."
He snorted softly but didn't interrupt.
"There's Cufant," I continued. "When it evolves, it'll be a frontline powerhouse. You've got Mankey and Passimian tribes already respecting this land."
I paused, then added gently—
"And Grandma has Feebas."
He raised an eyebrow.
"That ugly fish?"
I smiled.
"Feebas doesn't stay that way."
His gaze sharpened slightly—curiosity finally breaking through.
"Her evolution," I said, "is powerful. Graceful. Respected even by high-level Water Pokémon."
I let the words hang.
"One of the most beautiful Pokémon in the sea," I finished. "I'll tell you everything once we get home."
Grandpa chuckled, shaking his head.
"You really are something else," he muttered. "Turning our quiet retirement into a frontline zone."
I looked back at the vast blue stretching endlessly behind us.
"No," I said quietly. "You already did that. I'm just making sure it survives."
As Malvan's coast came back into view, fishermen working calmly under the watchful presence of Water Pokémon, I felt something rare settle in my chest.
Not control.
Not pride.
Continuity.
This place didn't need saving.
It needed recognition.
And now—
It had it.
__________________________
Support me on p@treon:
[email protected]/blaze98
📢 P@treon Update (Important)
Starting next week, P@treon membership prices will increase.However:
🔹 All current members will remain on their existing prices🔹 New prices will apply only to new members
🔹 From next month onward:
P@treon releases will be 10+ chapters ahead of Webnovel
This ensures early access and better rewards for supporters who help keep the story moving forward.
Last week before price hike.