“What an adorable Pokémon! Is that the Fairy-type evolution of Eevee everyone’s been talking about?!”

Misty’s eyes turned to sparkling hearts as she gazed with pure longing at the Sylveon in Red’s arms. As a girl, she was naturally powerless against its charm. It was a shame, then, that Sylveon didn’t even glance her way, a slight that truly broke her maiden heart.

“What is that Pokémon?” Ash asked, pulling out his Pokédex in confusion to scan the new creature.

“No data,” the mechanical voice announced. “There are still many Pokémon in this world yet to be discovered!”

Ash’s Pokédex, containing only data for the Kanto region, was at a loss.

Seeing this, Red reluctantly took out his own, more advanced Pokédex and analyzed Sylveon for Ash’s benefit. A different, more sophisticated voice filled the air. “Sylveon, the Intertwining Pokémon. One of Eevee’s evolutions. It wraps its ribbon-like feelers around the arm of its beloved trainer and walks with them.”

Sylveon’s sudden evolution drew the attention of the other trainers at the festival. Captivated by its impossibly cute appearance, they began to crowd around Red, brazenly offering to trade their own Pokémon for the one in his arms.

If Ash and his friends hadn’t been there, Red would have been forced to show these people the true meaning of the word ‘respect.’ He had nothing but utter disgust for those who treated their partners as disposable commodities.

With great reluctance, Red politely refused their requests. He would never, ever trade Sylveon. That was his bottom line as a trainer, an absolute taboo that could never be crossed.

After Sylveon’s evolution, Red had no desire to linger in Stone Town. He said a quick goodbye to Ash and his friends and set off on his journey once more.

At that same moment, hidden in the shadows, the Team Rocket trio watched Red depart. The familiar urge to snatch Pikachu began to bubble up.

“Wow, the Pokémon in this big courtyard are absolutely dazzling,” James exclaimed, his eyes wide with delight.

“It’s like they’re just begging us to take them all away,” Jessie said, her excitement palpable.

“And it says here that Stone Town’s specialty is Evolution Stones,” Meowth added, reading from a tourist pamphlet.

“Wait a minute!” James interjected angrily. “We believed that stupid book and dug holes in Evolution Mountain for ten days straight without finding a single stone! How do you explain that?!”

“Because you weren’t looking in the right place, you morons!” Meowth retorted, pointing to the haphazardly dug pits they had left behind. Evolution Stones could only be found in specific veins within the mountain. Jessie and James, who had just been digging randomly in whatever corner they could find, never stood a chance.

Of course, it wasn’t entirely their fault. The exact locations of the stone deposits were a closely guarded secret, the lifeblood of Stone Town’s economy.

After bidding farewell to his brother’s group, Red continued his journey alone. Along the way, he came across an old man sitting by the roadside, playing a simple wooden flute.

“I’m so sorry,” the old man said, his voice laced with shame as he accepted the food Red offered. “To have you spend so much on me…” If it weren’t for his gnawing hunger, he wouldn’t have resorted to stopping passersby with his music.

“Not at all, sir,” Red replied politely. “Your music is beautiful. I also have a Poké Flute. If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to play a song for you as well.”

Red’s kindness brought tears to the old man’s eyes. It had been so long since he had met such a warm-hearted young man. Most trainers who passed by paid no mind to the plight of a disheveled old man. Only Red was willing to stay, to listen, and to share his bread and milk.

Red gently raised his own Poké Flute to his lips. The old man closed his eyes, listening not just to the notes, but to Red’s heart. The melody of a flute often reveals the player’s inner world.

As the music began, a gentle breeze swept through the forest, and nature itself seemed to resonate with the song. When it ended, the old man realized his cheeks were wet with tears.

“Your music carries a lonely Aura,” he said softly. “As if you don’t belong to this world, as if you feel only rejection from it.” This was the feeling expressed in the first half of the song. “But the second half,” he continued, “carries the joy of rebirth and the warmth of family. I would guess you are an older brother. You also care deeply for your Pokémon. Otherwise, you could never play with such gentleness.”

“Thank you for your evaluation,” Red said, his voice solemn. He was astonished. A simple song had allowed this old man to peer into the depths of his soul. It made Red deeply curious about his true identity.

“Young man,” the old man said, his gaze falling to the Poké Balls on Red’s belt, “are you interested in a Snorlax?” He could sense Red’s immense strength; it was a subconscious perception, but one he knew was never wrong. “I have one here that would be perfect for you. Its personality is… strange. It loves to exercise, completely different from any other Snorlax. I don’t want its talent to be wasted. I believe you are the trainer it is destined to meet.”

‘A Snorlax that loves to exercise?’

The old man’s words piqued Red’s interest. Snorlax were creatures that did nothing but eat and sleep. The concept of exercise was entirely foreign to their nature.

The old man led Red to the Snorlax’s habitat: the upstream source of a river that fed a town downstream. The town’s crops depended entirely on this spring. If it were blocked, the town would face famine.

“I didn’t expect this Snorlax to almost block the spring,” the old man said, patting his chest with relief when he saw a massive, fat Snorlax snoozing right in the middle of the waterway. “It’s a good thing we got here in time. Another week and the river would have run dry.”

“Wake up, Snorlax!” the old man called out, playing his Poké Flute. The melody roused the sleeping giant. It rubbed its eyes drowsily, greeted the old man with a familiar grunt, and then lumbered over to a nearby patch of thorny bushes—its favorite food.

Coincidentally, the bushes had also grown so thick that they were nearly blocking the river. Snorlax quickly devoured them, clearing the blockage and satisfying its hunger at the same time.

“This isn’t the one I was talking about,” the old man explained, seeing Red’s confused expression.

He then led Red to a large, open clearing. The lack of thorny bushes suggested this area had once been a dense thicket, but it had clearly been cleared out by some large creature.

“That’s the Snorlax I want to recommend to you,” the old man said, pointing.

Not far away, a Snorlax was diligently doing push-ups.

“This one is a well-known fitness fanatic,” the old man explained with a helpless expression. “The muscle definition hidden beneath its fat is comparable to a Fighting-type Pokémon. The only problem is, it eats after exercising, sleeps after eating, and only exercises after sleeping. As a result, its weight never decreases. In fact, it just keeps getting heavier.”

He was about to suggest Red reconsider, but he saw that the young man had already developed a keen interest in the athletic Snorlax.

‘I just hope this boy’s finances can support it,’ the old man thought with a flicker of concern. Snorlax were already known as gluttons. One that exercised regularly would have a food intake at least twice that of a normal one.

[Chapter Complete]

***

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep