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Outside the unnamed forest,
A yellow coach bus sat quietly along the roadside.
The red-and-white Poké Ball insignia stamped onto its metal exterior made its origin unmistakable it was the same League-issued transport that had brought Kael and the others here.
By schedule, the bus would remain stationed at the forest's edge for three days, only departing once all Pokémon participating in the Fighting-type Gym's summer camp had regrouped. At that point, it would return to Ignis City for final processing and evaluation.
Of course, only a few hours had passed since drop-off.
The return trip was still far away.
"Slurp…"
Inside the bus, Rok, chopsticks in hand, noisily pulled up a mouthful of instant noodles.
As the assigned supervising instructor for this summer camp, his duties were simple: conduct a scheduled patrol into the forest each day, and otherwise remain on standby inside the vehicle in case of emergencies.
To be honest, Rok felt the precautions were excessive.
The Pokémon selected for this camp were all nearing graduation from their respective Gyms. They might lack real battlefield experience, but they understood restraint. None of them would fight recklessly enough to cause serious harm.
And Pokémon were far tougher than humans to begin with.
True, serious injuries could happen but they were rare. And even then, injured Pokémon were typically escorted immediately to the temporary medical station set up outside the forest.
Fatal incidents?
Practically unheard of.
As Rok chewed, his movement suddenly paused.
He frowned slightly, then shook his head.
"Slurp."
Another bundle of noodles disappeared into his mouth.
"Impossible," he muttered.
The Ignis City summer camps had been running for years. Ever since the League cleared the surrounding wild zones of Nightmare Pokémon, there hadn't been a single major accident.
There was no way this year his year would suddenly be different.
Honestly, Rok sometimes felt his presence here was mostly symbolic. If not for the generous League compensation, he wouldn't have agreed to sit in the middle of nowhere eating cup noodles for three straight days.
"Sigh…"
He reached over and gently patted the Breloom beside him as it calmly munched on an energy block.
Rok wasn't a powerhouse within the Fighting Gym. Most of his work was administrative paperwork, logistics, and coordination. The pay was decent by city standards, but for a Trainer supporting Pokémon development, it barely stretched far enough.
If not for the fact that Breloom had recently hit a critical growth bottleneck requiring a rare, high-quality energy material to break through Rok would never have accepted this uncomfortable League assignment.
"Cough."
A light cough from the front of the bus snapped him out of his thoughts.
Right.
He wasn't alone.
There was still the driver.
Rok glanced up, catching the reflection of a middle-aged man in the windshield. He paused, thinking.
They were going to be stuck together for three days.
Might as well make things less awkward.
Setting his bowl aside, Rok straightened in his seat and spoke:
"Hey—driver. Anything interesting happening in the city lately?"
Friendly relationships often start with casual conversation.
And for someone whose job involved driving League vehicles between Ignis City and outlying towns, a broad, open-ended question was perfect bait.
Besides, Rok had been focused entirely on Breloom's training lately. He'd been out of the loop.
"Interesting?" the driver laughed. "Oh, plenty!"
Across worlds and species, one thing seemed universal:
Drivers talked.
And talked well.
This particular middle-aged man was no exception.
The moment Rok finished his sentence, it was like opening a floodgate.
"Well, not long ago, something nasty showed up near Town—a Nightmare Pokémon, they say. Heard people actually died…"
"Oh, and the department heads have been whispering—League's planning some big changes. Our whole transport division might be getting a raise. Fingers crossed, eh?"
"And just the other day at my kid's school, the teacher told me my daughter's got real Trainer potential. Imagine that…"
Rok's smile stiffened.
His posture grew rigid.
He kept his eyes politely trained on the driver's reflection in the mirror, expression blank, as the words continued pouring out like an endless stream.
Listening to the relentless chatter buzzing in his ears, Rok began to regret starting the conversation at all.
Then—
The driver suddenly turned his head slightly, lowering his voice.
"Trainer," he said quietly, conspiratorial,
"You've heard about Whiteleaf Town, right?"
Rok's expression instantly hardened.
He nodded.
An entire village was wiped out by Nightmare Pokémon.
Even though he'd been in closed training at the time, the news had still reached him.
The incident had shaken the entire Ignis City League branch. The upper ranks had dispatched several veteran Trainers immediately but so far, no conclusions had been announced.
Rok vaguely remembered hearing that the only survivor was now studying at the League Academy.
Seeing Rok's reaction, the driver stopped teasing and leaned in slightly.
"I heard something new," he said.
"Some Trainers found… something near Whiteleaf Town recently."
He paused.
"This thing? It's not over yet."
The bus fell quiet.
Outside, the forest stood silent as if listening.
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~Support with 200 PowerStones = 1 Bonus Chapter
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