The noticeably plumper Moltres lay nearby, eyes closed and resting, while Growlithe gnawed on a very familiar-looking black slipper, playing with Fidough.
There was only one person in this house who wore slippers, so there was no need to guess whose slipper had been chewed to such a miserable state.
A few veins popped on Lucas' forehead as he continuously hypnotized himself: the child is still young and doesn't know any better—he'll grow out of it.
He held back and held back, but when Growlithe, from who-knows-where, dug up LuCas' missing blue slipper from the day before yesterday and handed it to Fidough with a "stick with me, you'll get all the benefits" kind of smugness, Lucas couldn't take it anymore.
"Grow—lithe—!"
Lucas' anger-laced voice made Growlithe shudder, and even Moltres, who had been watching Growlithe play with a smile, looked over in alarm.
What's going on? Why is Lucas suddenly so angry?
In Moltres' mind, there was no concept of wrecking the house. Growlithe's love for slippers actually proved that this cub was growing up well under its watch, its nature fully unleashed. Outside, this would even be a fun story for other child-rearing Pokémon.
Lucas took a few steps over to Growlithe, squatted down, and firmly grabbed the scruff of Growlithe's neck to bring their eyes level.
But when he saw Growlithe's guilty look and drooping tail, Lucas' heart softened. Still, he forced himself to stay stern—when it came to discipline, there could be no compromise.
With Fidough watching thoughtfully, the household pecking order was once again clearly established.
Even as the big boss among the Pokémon, Growlithe could only whimper pitifully in front of Lucas, as meek as a quail.
…
After finding a perfectly packaged flowerpot in the warehouse, Lucas filled it with nutrient-rich soil from the farming district's test fields, quickly preparing the new pot for Smoliv.
Smoliv's cheeks flushed as she received her new flowerpot. Under the gaze of the Eldegoss, she smiled and thanked Lucas.
"It's nothing. Since I've brought you all back, this is just a basic responsibility I should fulfill. Rest well in your new pot."
Lucas gently patted Smoliv's uniquely textured cheek and spoke softly.
"Smoliv~"
Smoliv closed her eyes, enjoying the sense of security brought by the much larger human, and began looking forward to her new life.
Seeing how much Smoliv enjoyed it, the Eldegoss got a bit jealous and immediately surrounded Lucas, acting cute to ask for some head pats, too.
After comforting all four Pokémon one by one, Lucas left, hands behind his back, muttering, "Am I really raising Pokémon... or am I soothing young girls?"
Something just doesn't feel right...
Still a bit suspicious that something was off with his farm Pokémon, Lucas, frowning, went to find the last Pokémon that needed to be settled today—Milcery.
To be honest, Lucas had mentally prepared himself the moment he found three Pokémon in the kitchen. But when he saw the scene before him, he couldn't help but sigh.
The Pokémon currently looking after Milcery were Dragonite and Serperior. Lucas had worried that the sweet-toothed Dragonite might do something reckless—like personally taste Milcery's flavor.
However, since Serperior had volunteered to keep an eye on Dragonite to prevent her from getting overexcited, Lucas agreed to let them temporarily take care of Milcery.
Now, though, these two were on the verge of a showdown over who got to keep Milcery.
Lucas glanced around the kitchen and quickly pieced together what had happened: on the table were a few leftover pieces of toast from breakfast.
One piece was slathered with what looked like luscious, freshly made cream—no doubt produced by Milcery.
Unlike the evolved Alcremie, which can create creams of various flavors depending on its form, Milcery can only produce the purest, original-flavored cream. And since it was just born, making enough cream to cover even that one slice of toast was its limit.
The toast wasn't large; it could be eaten in one bite.
Yet these two champion-level Pokémon were about to come to blows over a single piece of cream toast. It was honestly a bit embarrassing.
Ignoring their auras, Lucas walked right into the fray, scooped up the anxious Milcery in his right arm, and lightly tapped both Dragonite and Serperior on the head with his left—just enough to warn them: "That's enough."
He took a knife and quickly cut the toast into four even pieces, then stuffed two of them into Dragonite's and Serperior's mouths. He gave another piece to Milcery, then took a bite himself.
Aside from the slightly dry texture of the day-old toast, the cream Milcery made was truly delicious—sweet but not cloying, light and delicate like a cloud.
As an assistant to a pastry chef, Milcery and its evolved Alcremie really were some of the best Pokémon for the job.
Lucas remembered that Alcremie had up to 63 different forms, each producing subtly different flavors of cream.
These fell into eight broad categories: sweet, aromatic, refreshing, tangy, salty, colorful, slightly bitter, and complex.
After tasting Milcery's cream, Lucas was already looking forward to discovering what flavor Alcremie would make after it evolved.
Dragonite and Serperior, unable to resist Lucas's authority, had no choice but to accept. One held its piece by hand, the other with a vine, both blissfully savoring Milcery's delicious cream.
The portion was so small that, unbothered by etiquette, Dragonite even licked her lips repeatedly, as if afraid there was still cream left.
Serperior, on the other hand, was very self-conscious—she turned her back to Milcery, Lucas, and Dragonite before licking the cream from her face.
Watching their eager behavior, Lucas could only turn away and chuckle. It seemed that this cream-making ability alone was enough to ensure Milcery would always have both Dragonite and Serperior's protection.
Milcery's living space was ultimately chosen to be the kitchen cabinet, since that's where it used to live back at the Ellie Moss farm.
Still, Lucas planned to check out the carpentry shop in Los Platos Town soon.
He intended to have a beautiful cabinet built, both for storing dessert dishes and as a new home for Milcery.
After settling the four new Pokémon, it was nearly 7:00 pm.
After hastily preparing dinner for nearly twenty Pokémon, night had completely fallen.
Once the cleaning was done, Lucas could finally return to his bedroom, sit at his bright desk, and slowly read the Pokémon Psychological book lent by Miss Joy.
Though early spring had long passed, the nights were still chilly.
Because of Growlithe, all his cotton slippers had been destroyed, so Lucas could only wear summer sandals. As for keeping his feet warm, he simply let Growlithe—always radiating heat—warm them.
In the quiet night, under the bright desk lamp, the sound of Lucas turning the pages was quite clear.
Growlithe was already fast asleep on Lucas's feet. Luxray rested quietly near the desk, its powerful, thunder-charged body breathing rhythmically, looking for all the world like a harmless housecat.
Closing the book, Lucas checked the time.
Eleven o'clock.
Time for bed—tomorrow would be the official day of sowing, and he'd need to plant all the saplings.
He stroked Luxray's smooth fur, lifted the quilt, and found that his Pokémon had already warmed the bed for him.
Unfazed, he stepped over Serperior and Mimikyu's bodies and crawled under the covers, smiling as he softly whispered, "Good night," careful not to wake them.
…
The next morning.
At dawn, Lucas woke up. Quietly leaving the warmth of his bed, he braved the chilly air on his exposed skin and quickly freshened up.
Dressed and ready, Lucas opened a new bag of Pokémon food. On days he didn't feel like cooking, he'd use Pokémon food to get by.
In this world, the Pokémon industry was extremely developed, and Pokémon food had long been available.
Nutritionally, Pokémon food was excellent—practically no different from homemade meals.
Most trainers who couldn't cook would buy Pokémon food. It cost more than cooking yourself but saved a lot of trouble.
In Lucas's old world's terms, it's like the difference between homemade cat/dog food and commercial cat/dog food.
Because he'd started from scratch, most resources went to Luxray and the others. Usually, to save money, Lucas preferred to cook himself.
But today's workload would be huge, so Lucas wanted to save as much strength and energy as possible.
By the time the sun was fully up, the Pokémon had all woken up. After their morning meal, Lucas took a few Pokémon to help out and headed straight to the farming area.
There were plenty of crops suitable for spring planting. Besides all sorts of seasonal fruits and vegetables, today's main event would be the unassuming wheat.
Dachsbun, evolved from Fidough, could help wheat grow. Wheat could be milled into flour for bread and other foods, or fermented for beer.
Combined with Milcery's cream, all sorts of desserts could be made.
Even if he didn't sell any, just on his own farm wheat would have many uses.
Since Mudbray wasn't strong enough to till all the land alone, Lucas had Swampert lead Mudbray to the orchard area. There, they used the "Rototiller" move to make the soil more fertile for planting berry trees.
Compared to ordinary crops, energy-rich berries needed better soil.
Taking up his farm tools and with help from the Pokémon, Lucas threw himself into the fields, working up a sweat.
He worked all day.
By dusk, Lucas, rubbing his slightly sore back, looked at the fields—barely a quarter done—and sighed.
With just one person, his farming speed and efficiency were too low.
Even with Pokémon helping, it was just that—assistance, not decisive power.
If only he had a Psychic-type Pokémon, he wouldn't have to keep bending over for every little task. Too bad he didn't have a single Psychic-type.
If he could dream even bigger—say, a Psychic/Grass-type, like Celebi or Calyrex, the mythical and legendary Pokémon—forget farming, they could just create a forest outright.
The Forest God and the High King—those titles are well-deserved.
There was also Tapu Bulu, one of the four Tapu of Alola, who could both plow and make plants flourish.
But as rare, unique beings, the Alola region wouldn't allow their island gods to be taken by outsiders.
After dinner, Lucas uncharacteristically didn't study. He lay face-down on the bed, enjoying a vine massage from Serperior.
He wasn't sure what massage style Serperior used, but under Luxray's direction, every spot she pressed made Lucas gasp in pain at first, then feel wonderfully relaxed afterward.
Under Luxray's golden gaze, Lucas felt as though not just his clothes, but even his skin and muscles were being seen through.
That perception ability was terrifying.
Still, Lucas didn't forget his responsibilities.
Taking advantage of the free evening, he called each of his students whose numbers he had.
Aside from class time, Lucas was rarely at Naranja Academy. If his students had training questions, they could only reach him by phone.
After a long, 30-minute call with Nemona, Lucas sighed as Dragonite handed him a warm cup of water.
Drinking, he massaged his temples.
The other students were fine—ten minutes per call, tops. Only Nemona seemed to have endless questions. If she hadn't heard Lucas' exhaustion, she might have talked all night about Pokémon battles and training.
Nemona's questions were pretty sharp, too. Lucas could feel her soaking up his experience at an incredible, almost unbelievable rate, like a sponge.
"So this is the real talent of a battle prodigy..."
Lucas fell into reminiscence, recalling how in the Scarlet/Violet games, neither Nemona nor Geeta used their full strength against the player. Nemona used her newly trained team, while Geeta held back a lot.
Just like in his own Champion test: if Geeta had led with that ridiculously strong Glimmora, then used Kingambit as the finisher, he'd have been in real trouble.
Thinking this, Lucas shook his head helplessly and dialed his last student, Arven.