"But only I know the way to Kalos," Ron said quickly, cutting off Abigail before she could hatch an escape plan. "The earliest you'd go is after summer."
"Why?"
"Because I won't have time before then."
Between farming and breeding, he had his hands full.
"Oh—and your Gengar has to stay with me for a while," Ron added.
Though Combee technically belonged to Viola, the system had still registered it under Ron's account—meaning ownership wasn't strictly enforced.
So if Abigail insisted on going, Ron planned to put Gengar to work on the farm first, grind its stats up, then let her take it.
Abigail stared at the crimson eyes glowing in her shadow, deep in thought.
Ron patted her shoulder and walked over to Pierre's stall.
Thanks to the potato windfall, Ron now carried over 30,000G—a small fortune. Under Pierre's watchful eye, he stopped at the booth.
"What were you and Abigail talking about?" Pierre asked before Ron could speak.
"…" Caught off guard, Ron hesitated. "Just… Gengar and Egg Festival stuff."
Pierre's suspicious gaze lingered. It wasn't romantic worry—he knew Abigail wasn't like other girls. She preferred swords and mine adventures over dresses and pastries.
Most of her expeditions ended with him and Caroline dragging her home before they even began.
He feared not that she'd fall for some boy—but that one day, his house-hating daughter would vanish with nothing but a blade and wander the world.
"Anyway—I'd like to buy some strawberry seeds," Ron said, breaking the silence.
"Seeds! Yes, yes!" Pierre's face lit up with a practiced merchant's grin. "I've got plenty—premium quality! With proper care, you'll harvest delicious strawberries in just eight days."
Ron did quick math.
Strawberries took 8 days to mature, then yielded every 4 days after.
With his funds, he could buy 300 seeds—but Froakie alone couldn't water that many. He'd have to help.
The upside? First harvest would nearly recoup his investment (120–180G per berry). After that, profits could fund farmhouse renovations and farm infrastructure.
"Oh! We also sell Speed-Gro," Pierre added, rubbing his hands as Ron hesitated. "Use it, and you'll get three harvests before spring ends—great deal!"
"How much?" Ron asked.
"Only—100G each!"
"100G?! Are you insane?!" An elderly voice boomed from behind. "You know this boy just moved here—his farm's empty!"
Ron turned to see an old woman approaching—snow-white hair neatly tied back, dressed in festive rose-red, her kind face now stern with disapproval.
"Don't buy from him, child—you can make it yourself," Evelyn said, grabbing Ron's hand. She glared at Pierre until he awkwardly adjusted his glasses, then told Ron, "I have the Speed-Gro recipe."
Ron remembered the Wizard mentioning Evelyn held old blueprints. He nodded gratefully.
He bought 300 strawberry seeds, plus five packets each of other vegetable seeds, then followed Evelyn home.
"I'm Evelyn," she said warmly, patting his hand. "Call me Grandma if you like."
Inside, an old man sat watching TV. At their entrance, he glanced at Ron—then cranked the volume to maximum without a word.
"That's George, my husband. He's got a bad temper—don't mind him. He's not mad at you," Evelyn explained, handing Ron a stack of synthesis recipes.
Ron flipped through them, thanking her.
"No trouble at all," Evelyn smiled. "Go enjoy the festival! I need to coax George out of his mood—can't see you out."
After thanking the couple, Ron left.
By now, Lewis was announcing Egg Festival rules. Though Ron hadn't planned to join, he was distractedly studying the Speed-Gro recipe—specifically the resin and pine tar needed.
Evelyn had given him the Tapper blueprint too…
But by the time he collected enough Resin/Pine Tar, it'd be too late for spring strawberries.
Yet Pierre's Speed-Gro was too expensive—buying it would barely make the third harvest worth the cost over just two.
Just then—a hand clapped his shoulder.
"He's playing too!" Abigail shoved him forward.
Before Ron realized what happened, he stood beside two kids barely knee-high.
"Come on—they won't play unless you do!" Abigail pleaded, standing beside him.
Lewis sighed at the grown woman joining a children's game. "Fine. Begin!"
Ron searched half-heartedly, still weighing his options—until he spotted something odd in a distant corner:
An egg much larger than the festival ones.
Unidentifiable, he picked it up.
As he straightened, he nearly bumped into Linus, who crouched nearby holding a jar.
Linus hesitated, then approached. "This morning, your Pokémon collected Maple Syrup from the big tree. I made raspberry jam with it—want some?"
"Maple Syrup?" Ron blinked. He opened his mouth to correct him about Honey—but Linus held up another jar.
"Yes, Maple Syrup."
Ron compared it to his Honey—it looked different. Skeptical, he scanned it with his Pokédex.
When the device announced "Maple Syrup", Ron's eyes widened in realization.
Could "Honey Gather" also function like a Tapper?!
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