"Hey, young man! Young trainer, care to look at some stones?" A slightly raspy shout drifted from a stall not far ahead.
Hora stopped and looked toward the source. The man before him wore a somewhat faded red knit cap, with a thick beard covering most of his face. He was clad in a washed-out beige vest paired with rumpled green pants. Though his appearance was odd, it caused Hora's pupils to contract instantly.
It was Flint!
Brock's father—the man who claimed he wanted to be a Pokémon Master but abandoned his responsibilities, dumping the burden of the Gym and ten children onto his son's shoulders!
Hora felt a mix of shock and delight. Upon entering Pewter City, he had specifically scanned the roadsides for stone vendors. If he wanted Brock to follow him with a clear mind, he had to force Flint to step up and reclaim his family responsibilities. He hadn't seen him on the streets, so finding him here in the Pokémon Center was an unexpected stroke of luck.
On second thought, it made sense. Pewter was a Gym city; random roadside stalls would ruin the city's image. Setting up in the high-traffic, regulated environment of the Pokémon Center was actually quite shrewd.
Seeing Hora stop, Flint enthusiastically leaned in, pointing to an old cloth spread out beside him. It was covered in stones of all sizes and shapes—some smooth and rounded pebbles, others jagged rock fragments.
"Take a look, young man! Look at the luster and texture of these stones. They're perfect for brewing 'Stone Tea.' It gives the water a natural, earthy fragrance!" He picked up a snow-white pebble and offered it to Hora.
Hora squatted down and took the stone, turning it over in his hands. It was cool and smooth—a decent ornamental rock, but certainly not a "tea-brewing delicacy" as Flint claimed.
He didn't speak immediately. His fingers traced the surface of the stone while his eyes subtly observed Flint. Compared to the somewhat scruffy version in the anime, this Flint seemed slightly more animated—the look of a man who had picked up a few "business tricks" over years of selling rocks.
Seeing Hora playing with the stone without buying it or leaving, Flint felt a bit nervous, but his enthusiasm didn't wane. He pointed to a grey-brown rock as wide as a man's torso. "If you don't like tea stones, look at this one! Heavy, solid—best thing in the world for weighing down a pickle jar lid. Guaranteed airtight seal; makes the pickles crunchy and flavorful!"
Hora set down the white stone and touched the "pickle rock." It was rough and dense; it truly would be suitable for a jar. But his target wasn't these ordinary rocks. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke, his tone flat but leading: "Uncle, these stones are quite common. Do you have anything more... special?"
Flint's eyes flickered. He quickly waved his hand, his tone becoming evasive. "Special? What special stones could I have? These are just ordinary natural rocks. Practical and durable!"
Hora saw right through him. Flint was definitely hiding the good stuff, unwilling to show it to a stranger.
Instead of calling him out, Hora picked up a stone with small crystal clusters and spoke as if making idle conversation: "I heard that on the way from Pewter to Cerulean City, there's a place called Mt. Moon, formed by a meteorite crash."
He paused, noticing Flint's ears twitch slightly, and continued, "Legend says there are Moon Stones in those mountains that can evolve Pokémon like Clefairy and Jigglypuff. A few years ago, so many merchants rushed there to dig that they ruined the environment. The League restricted access after that, and Moon Stones are getting harder to find. Since you've been in the stone business for so long, Uncle, do you have anything like that?"
Flint stroked his beard, his expression shifting again. He stared at the Poké Balls hanging from Hora's belt. After a moment, he laughed loudly. "I've heard of Moon Stones, of course! Those are treasures! But like you said, the League is strict. How could a little stall like mine have something like that? If I did, would I be here selling pickle rocks?"
Hora stared into his eyes for a few seconds, his tone carrying a perfectly measured hint of regret. "I suppose. I'm about to challenge the Pewter Gym. If I had a Moon Stone to evolve my Nidorina and boost her strength, I'd probably have a better chance."
Then, he pivoted the conversation. "By the way, I met a trainer from my hometown a few days ago who just challenged the Gym. He told me that the Pewter Gym Leader, Brock, is truly a pitiable person."
Flint froze. His hand gripping a stone tightened involuntarily.
"I heard his father left years ago, claiming he was going to be a Pokémon Master, only to disappear and dump ten younger siblings on Brock," Hora said softly, yet the words stung like needles in Flint's heart. "Brock wants to be the world's best Pokémon Breeder, but he's forced to stay at the Gym to make money for his family. He doesn't even have the chance to travel. I heard that at his age, he's never even had a proper romance. Isn't it a shame? To be tied down by a family at such a prime age."
Flint lowered his head further, his beard hiding his expression. Only his voice betrayed him, sounding uncontrollably low. "Perhaps... perhaps his father had his reasons for staying away."
"Reasons?" Hora raised an eyebrow, his tone suddenly chilling. "Regardless of the reason, a man who won't take responsibility for his home has no right to talk about being a 'Pokémon Master.' It's a joke."
This sentence hit Flint like a sledgehammer, making him snap his head up, his eyes swimming with complex emotions.
Hora didn't look at him again. He continued as if talking to himself: "I admire Brock, though. If he didn't have to worry about his siblings and the Gym, I'd really like to make a bet with him. If I win the Gym challenge, I'll convince him to travel with me and pursue his dream of being a Breeder. Young people should live for themselves for once."
With that, he pulled out a handful of League coins and placed them on the stall. He picked up the "tea stone" Flint had first recommended and turned toward the healing area without looking back once.
Flint stood frozen. He watched Hora's receding figure, then looked down at the coins and his lonely stones.
Hora's words were like a key, unlocking years of buried guilt. How could he not know how hard Brock was working? But back then, his "Master Dream" had blinded him, and later, he was too ashamed to face his children, so he scraped by selling rocks.
"Travel with him... realize his dream..." Flint muttered. His hand instinctively reached into his pocket and touched a stone he had hidden for a long time—a stone with a faint blue luster. It was a Moon Stone he had dug up from Mt. Moon years ago. He had planned to keep it "until he became a Master," but now, that thought felt incredibly ironic.