Because the fat rabbits (okay, the Sentrets) were getting rowdy, Lana pressed down on Ethan's shoulder and picked up where she'd left off:
"Yeah—what I mean is your Houndour is missing something.
"I don't know exactly where your Houndour came from—either the wild or a breeder—but both sources have typical issues.
"Houndour raised in a breeder's house grow up comfortable. They often lack grit. They don't want to train, won't push through the boring reps, and in battle they get timid and can't go all-out.
"Yours clearly wasn't like that. In Houndour's fight with my Alolan Persian, it was feral and fearless—that screams wild-born. Only a wild Pokémon that's seen life-and-death really craves strength and fights like a maniac for the win.
"But even then, there's still a problem. Your Houndour is young—and Houndour are pack hunters. It was probably looked after by its pack and never had to survive alone. It's used to smooth sailing. It hasn't eaten enough setbacks.
"After you've been knocked down a few times, you learn the world doesn't revolve around you. Can't master a move yet? Then practice more. Why care what anyone thinks? Persian got blocked in sewers a hundred times, swallowed filthy water, went weeks without sunlight—did it hate itself for the humiliation?
"Ethan, you can't always cushion it. Don't rush to comfort it every time it sulks. Make it adapt to you.
"I'm not saying Pokémon are tools. I'm saying your partner is a trainer's Pokémon, not a household pet. It's a warrior."
Her words gave Ethan pause. Yeah… with Houndour's emotions, he had been too soft—always taking its feelings as the only compass instead of asking whether those feelings were steering it right.
Can't nail a move → mope → get comforted → park the move and go stomp weaklings for confidence?
He'd done that with Fire Spin earlier, and now with Protect. Keep indulging that loop and he'd ruin the pup.
"Okay. I hear you. I've got work to do too—if I'd hardened my heart earlier, we wouldn't be here."
Lana smiled, pleased she'd gotten through. Then she reassured him:
"Furret took Houndour into the woods to get real battles. With Furret watching, relax. It kept five 'burdens' alive deep in the forest; babysitting one Houndour will be fine."
"Taiiil!" ×5
The five Sentrets glared at Lana. Your stinky cat couldn't even beat us—who are you calling burdens?
Seeing them about to pile Persian in righteous fury, Ethan grabbed them one by one. "Let it go. Trust Furret. I just don't know when they'll be back… If I miss the exam in three days, I'll cry for real."
Lana snorted. "Now that would be fun. Miss this year and you'll enroll next year as my junior."
"No way. I said I trust Furret." Ethan huffed, then flipped it back. "Enough about me—what's your plan for the next three days?"
Lana's special training had paid off: Alolan Persian had picked up Iron Tail and Protect, and hit Lv. 8—great for the exam.
"I'll check the river, then take Persian home. I won't wait here for Houndour tonight.
"The Mago Berries I ordered finally arrived—ten of them. Tonight I can overhaul Persian's diet."
Ethan nodded. "One Mago a day is plenty. Pair it with meditation so it absorbs the nutrients better."
"Yup. I'll read the papers and lock a meal plan. Also, after all this, Persian should level again. I'll spend the last three days mostly resting and consolidating." She pointed at him. "Houndour's been eating better than Persian and working harder. It's probably banked a ton of power. When it's back, make it rest and let that stockpile convert into real stats."
Ethan made a mental note, then walked with her to the river.
Lana stared hard at the Magikarp drifting by, clearly tempted.
"Thinking Gyarados for a Dark pairing?" Ethan asked.
She nodded, eyes never leaving the water. "Dark pairings on Water are rare. Sharpedo is awkward on land. Crawdaunt lacks top-end stats. Greninja would be perfect, but I only get one starter shot at the Uni's trios during the entrance exam—and right now I'm leaning Fire + Dark anyway.
"That leaves Gyarados—huge stat ceiling, limitless future, and it doubles as a great enforcer."
Ethan frowned. "Careful. Not every Magikarp hits Lv. 20. These ones? Not likely."
"True. Dragons don't hatch in puddles." She sighed. "If nothing shows, I'll just catch a Gyarados later."
Reality check: leveling is "30% training, 70% eating"… and Magikarp do only the eating. Even with rich feed, most never evolve.
Giving up on the river's crop, Lana packed up and left with Persian.
That night, Ethan and the five Sentrets stared at a cold pile of firewood.
…Awkward. Without Houndour, no fire.
He hadn't stashed a lighter in the [Backpack], so no hot dinner. Thankfully, with Lana gone his [Backpack] "unlocked," and there was plenty of instant food. No one would starve.
The five Sentrets sat in a row, guarding a box of Lazy Otter Crispy Noodles and a case of Fat Otaku Cola. Ethan gnawed plain bread with pickles.
The night was cold. Ethan hugged four Sentrets and shivered. A bonfire would've been heaven. The fifth stood sentry outside the tent, stealing teary glances at the cozy canvas.
Usually it slept inside while the black dog kept watch…
First night without Houndour, and it already missed him.
Moonlight silvered the valley. Leaves cushioned the path with soft squeaks.
"Lubi?"
"Wee-li… wee-li…"
Furret glanced back, pointed deeper, and kept leading.
"Ratta… ratta…"
Purple shapes roused on the cliffs: Rattata, peering down. One squeak set off a chorus; more poured from cracks in the rock.
"Lubi?"
Houndour dipped its head—warning received. Most weren't strong, but a few felt nasty—close to those fat rabbits in bite.
Furret didn't care. It padded on.
They reached a water hole the local Pokémon used—claimed by the Rattata clan. Beside it sat a square stone plinth. On it, a fat brown Raticate gnawed a fruit with terrifying incisors.
Raticate froze when Furret appeared, then swallowed its fear and tossed the half-eaten fruit into the pool. It chittered a negotiation.
"Ratta… ratta?"
"Wee-li…"
After a short parley, Houndour stepped past Furret to face the clan.
"Ratta…!"
At its call, a larger, scarred Rattata—a cut above the rest—stalked forward, baring fangs.
If Ethan were here, he'd have the [Dex] out: this little brute was Lv. 10, and not the only one.
Furret had brought Houndour here for a reason. The trial began.
—
The Fire Spin guttered, and the Rattata collapsed, scorched.
Harder than Houndour expected. The Rattata's Ability was Guts—once Ember burned it, its Attack spiked and it went berserk.
Even so, Houndour kept Ethan's lessons: keep spacing, kite with fire, don't get closed in. After Guts triggered, Houndour answered with Feint Attack to break momentum, Iron Tail to pile damage, then a wider Fire Spin to pin and finish.
It came away with only a few cuts—most of the fatigue from constant repositioning.
The fight over, Houndour stared Raticate down, panting—ready if the boss tried something stupid.
"Wee-li…"
Furret didn't bother posturing. It flicked a greeting, turned its back on Raticate, and padded off.
Houndour took one last warning glance at the poised Rattata on the ledges, then followed.
Watching their arrogant backs, Raticate finally snapped.
If Furret showed up with its five Sentrets, it would yield. But Furret brought only a single black pup—and still wanted to stride through like kings?
"Ratta!!"
A hundred purple bodies surged.
Houndour was ready. It flung Embers wide and triggered Flash Fire, seeding a fire-friendly battlefield.
But Furret moved first—blurring past Houndour and raising a massive Protect that spanned the choke. The swarm smashed into the barrier and stopped cold.
When the shield finally burst, Furret showed its true level.
Left paw Fire Punch. Right paw Thunder Punch. Tail flashing Iron Tail—silver arcs whipping like a steel horsetail sweep.
Red, gold, and silver lights whirled under the moon. Rattata flew and didn't rise.
Outclassed by more than ten levels, anything that took a clean shot stayed down.
Raticate couldn't stand it anymore. Its body twisted in a strange cadence—Swords Dance. It blurred—Quick Attack—and those incisors gleamed white—Hyper Fang. A kill combo that had ended countless foes.
Furret didn't flinch. Its long tail coiled; a purple sheen climbed the fur—Coil, ramping Attack, Defense, and accuracy. Then its fist shone white.
Last Resort—the ultimate Normal finisher, unleashed only once its other tools were spent.
Fang and fist collided. Furret skidded back a few steps, a cut opening on its knuckles. Raticate pinwheeled into a rock fissure and crumpled, fate uncertain.
A chipped, reeking yellow tooth clattered at Houndour's paws.
"Taiiil… taiiil… (I was gonna let them go, but they really had to try me. Whatever—let's hit their granary. There's an Attack-boosting tree nearby… wonder if it's bearing yet?)"
Furret grabbed a still-breathing Rattata to wipe the blood from its hand, then waved Houndour deeper into the valley.
On both sides of the path, the survivors trembled and bowed their heads.