Auron Vale set a thin sheet of metal on the table.
"Here. This."
Ashen Vale picked it up and studied it. "Just an ordinary metal film? You're saying this is the condition for Onix to evolve into Steelix?"
"Yeah. Grandpa gave me the inspiration. Electabuzz, after being saturated with massive amounts of electricity, evolved into Electivire. Magmar, after being inundated by intense flames, evolved into Magmortar."
"So what if Onix, after being shrouded in a huge amount of steel energy, finally evolves into Steelix?"
Seeing the confidence on Auron's face, Ashen pressed him with another question. "But it's not like Onix haven't held a Metal Coat before. Why didn't they evolve?"
Auron took out a pile of charred fragments from Fire Stones and set them on the table.
"This, too, was something Grandpa discovered. You know how, once a Fire Stone melts down, it gives off a mysterious evolution energy, right?"
Ashen nodded. "That's right."
"But that evolution energy is very similar to the energy transmitted during a communication transfer. That part, I'm guessing you didn't know."
Ashen shot to his feet, eyes wide. "You're telling me the energy Grandpa identified when a melted Evolutionary Stone triggered Electabuzz's evolution is the same kind of energy as in a link transfer?"
"Exactly. That's why I want to use a link trade. At the same time, I want to verify whether a Pokémon can be transferred together with its held item—and whether an Onix holding a Metal Coat will evolve during the transfer."
Ashen sat down again, his expression turning grave as he looked at Auron. "All right. I understand. I'll talk to your grandpa, and the two of us will run the experiments together. But let me set expectations now: the Doctor title you want won't be conferred on you right this moment, nor anytime before university starts. Be ready for that."
Auron spread his hands, unconcerned. "No problem. As long as I can have it in hand by the time the term begins, that's fine. But is discovering Steelix as an evolution for Onix and proving its conditions really enough for a doctorate?"
Only then did Ashen crack a smile. "Not by itself, no. But that mysterious evolution energy you mentioned—solving that alone qualifies you as a Senior Researcher. Stack Steelix's evolution on top, and with your grandpa's clout, the PhD is a sure thing."
Auron slumped a little. "Ugh, so it still depends on Grandpa pulling strings?"
Ashen fixed him with a serious look. "Of course it does. You should know our country never lacks people with privilege. The scary ones are those who not only have privilege, but also have capability."
"There are only so many doctoral slots each round. When ability is comparable, whoever has stronger backing wins the seat."
"…Fine."
Auron could only agree. There was no helping it; he needed that doctorate later on. Otherwise, why go to all this trouble—up to and including waking in the middle of the night to check references?
Ashen finished speaking and was about to call Dax Jonas to tell him to keep quiet about the next two days. But when he turned his head and saw Dax's dazed, deer-in-headlights expression, he cut himself off and simply instructed, flat as water:
"If anyone asks where Steelix came from, just say it evolved here with me. Don't say anything extra."
Dax immediately straightened, energized. "Got it. Loud and clear."
Ashen sighed and said nothing more, turning away to prepare for the experiment.
"Uh, so… are we done here? If so, I'll head back. A hotel really isn't as comfortable as home."
"Go. And when you get back, make sure to bring Steelix by for my dad to see, all right? I've got experiments to run. I won't walk you out."
Dax lit up. "Walk me out? What for? It's not like I can't find my way."
With that, he strode off, head high. He didn't send out his Corviknight; he chose to walk, planning to catch a cab—or hire a Pokémon mount—to the airport. After all, he wasn't on an official mission now; the no-fly regulations applied to him, too.
Dax left in high spirits. Whether he was going to look up Ji Qianyi to "strengthen bonds" or to provoke Old Man Mo into an early grave… who knew.
"Dad, I'm heading out too," Auron called.
"Mm. Go on," Ashen replied.
Auron waved and headed outside. Munchlax and Golbat were in the middle of training. Charmander, because of its physical condition, had temporarily sat out—but it was off to the side, going through the motions of its basic attacking move, [Scratch], with very serious focus.
Auron came up alongside the Pokémon. He didn't interrupt their training. Instead, he unpacked his portable cookware, planning to whip up some food for everyone.
He set out the kit, laid everything in order, then got to work.
He lit the flame, set a pan on top, drizzled in a little oil, then added Berries and began to stir, slow and steady.
Following the steps, Auron carefully moved along, doing exactly as the instructions said.
Stir, stir, stir…
After a while of gentle stirring, he grimaced, tipped the pot, and dumped a panful of scorched goop into the trash can he'd smartly prepared at his side.
"It's fine. It's fine. First time—this is normal."
He gave himself a quick pep talk and started over.
"A bit of oil. Berries. Stir, stir, stir."
"Ugh—still too slow."
So he repeated the process again.
Third try: stirring too slow—burned.
Fourth try: stirring too fast—boiled over.
Fifth time, …
Sixth time, …
"Emmmmm."
Auron was suffering. He wanted to smash the pan. "Why is this so hard? I made tons of these in the games!"
He scrubbed the pot clean, set it back on the stove, and decided to cool his head before trying again.
After a short break, settled at last, he started again. "Oil in. Berries in. Stir, stir."
Whether it was the calmer mood or accumulated experience from the previous disasters, this time—under cautious, precise stirring—Auron finally managed to produce a proper batch.
He poured the contents into the molds he'd prepared and let them set. Then he grabbed a clean pot and, striking while the iron was hot, went for another round.
"Oil. Berries. Stir."
A short while later, he barely restrained the urge to slam the pan again and groused, "You've got to be kidding me. So even being a little slow won't cut it?"
He swallowed his frustration. Just then, the first batch looked ready to unmold.
Auron popped the set confections out and laid them on the cutting board. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted an Eevee bouncing by, light on its paws and full of cheer.
His eyes lit up. "Hey, little Eevee—come try this."
The naive Eevee hopped over, peppy as ever.
Auron picked up a pink, oval-shaped piece and held it out. "Here, open up."
Eevee opened its mouth happily, waiting for the treat to land.
The pink treat touched its tongue. Eevee chewed twice, looking pleased—and then:
Σ_(」∠) Bleh.
Its expression turned surreal in an instant. It spat out the rest on the spot.
Auron froze. "Huh? That can't be right. Aren't nasty Poffins supposed to be that grayish-brown? Pink should be Sweet Poffins."
Not convinced, he popped a piece into his own mouth.
"Bleh."
"Ptui."
"Oh, wow, that's terrible. Sorry, buddy—you really took one for the team."
He stroked Eevee's fur, genuinely apologetic, then rummaged in his bag and took out a Pokéblock. "Here, this one's good. Have this instead. Sorry."
Eyes watering, Eevee clamped its mouth shut and shook its head, refusing to eat anything at all.
Then it wriggled out of Auron's hand and ran off without looking back—no trace of the jaunty bounce it had had on the way over.
(End of chapter.)
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