Pokemon Paldea [242-243] (Patreon)

Chapter 242 Blueberry Academy 

Meeting Hassel's gaze as he leaned in, Lucas's eyelid twitched involuntarily.

Lucas asked, knowing full well the answer, "Why are you asking me that?"

Hassel's lips curved in a placating smile. "You know how it is. Ever since I cut ties with my family, yours truly has been relying on one person to help feed my Dragon-type Pokémon. And my main pursuits—painting and vocal music—burn money like a furnace."

"I saw Chairwoman Geeta's printed job listing at League HQ. I figured I could handle an art or music teacher's responsibilities, so I plan to apply. I wanted to ask you about Naranja Academy's pay and benefits."

Lucas: "…"

A dignified Dragon-type Elite Four, heir to a clan of dragon tamers, planning to moonlight as a teacher… for the salary? The world really is going downhill.

 What's that? I am too?

 Ah, then never mind!

"I don't know about art or music teachers, but as a battle instructor my package is: two classes a week; first month probation at 50,000 League credits; 80,000 a month after regularization; four months of long holidays a year; and supposedly quarterly bonuses."

After a brief pause, Lucas gave Hassel a simple rundown of his own terms.

He'd thought this late-blooming rich kid would scoff at such a pittance, but Hassel's eyes lit up. He immediately picked up his phone and started hammering away, then decisively hit send.

"What did you… do?"

An ominous feeling crept over Lucas. Since when do people make decisions this rashly?

Hassel, perfectly matter-of-fact: "I just sent my résumé to the Chairwoman—applying for the art teacher position. With my qualifications, I'll absolutely be accepted."

"I know what you want to say. It's like how you didn't want to run all over taking jobs for money, so you opened a farm and took a teaching post. If I go take assignments, the old folks back home will definitely notice and hound me to come back and inherit the family business, ruining my gig."

"They can hardly interfere with matters inside Naranja Academy. I can create the art I love and also draw a salary to help with expenses. That's a win-win."

Hassel's argument was sound. Even Lucas was stunned by his world-shaking wisdom, and even started to wonder if Hassel only became an Elite Four because he figured his clan couldn't just storm Pokémon League HQ and haul him home…

Lucas was about to say something when a charming melody sounded—he'd heard it not long ago. He raised a brow. "The theme to Kalos Holiday?"

"You know it too?" Hassel picked up the ringing phone and glanced at the caller ID—either surprised by who it was or surprised Lucas watched films. "The theme song 'Unforgettable' paired with a movie that's practically a work of art—I love it. Didn't expect a battle maniac like you to know these things."

"The presence you had in the League when you streamed past the lot of us—I thought you had no interests beyond battling."

"I'm retired now. Can't a guy change his tastes?" Lucas said helplessly, then pointed at Hassel's phone to remind him: "Not going to answer?"

"Right away. I always pick up when the Chairwoman calls."

With zero intention of taking the call in private, Hassel put it on speaker. Geeta's voice came through.

"Hassel, according to the file, you applied to be the Academy's art teacher?"

"You're still working now, Chairwoman? So diligent."

"No, I'm preparing a meeting about the Academy incident. Larry is helping me with the screenings."

As soon as Geeta finished, both Lucas and Hassel wore indescribable expressions.

Just how many hats is Larry wearing these days?

Hassel glanced at Lucas and murmured, "You were right not to take office."

Lucas nodded emphatically. "Couldn't agree more."

Geeta's slightly puzzled voice came: "From the sound of it, you're with Lucas right now?"

Both: "…"

Monstrous powers of perception!

Before Hassel could respond, Geeta spoke like she'd already confirmed it. "Knowing your temperament, you probably went to him to confirm duties and compensation. No problem. As long as you don't neglect your Elite Four duties, being an art teacher is fine."

"By the way, pass a message to Lucas—after a while I have a new commission for him. He'll need to take some people to Unova. There'll be a travel bonus."

"The meeting's about to start, so I'll hang up. Hassel, we'll discuss your start date later."

After Geeta hung up, there was a beat of silence.

"You've been seen straight through," Lucas said.

"Terrifying woman," Hassel agreed with a nod.

Off to the side, Oranguru quietly added a potential Unova trip to his tablet calendar, musing that he ought to preview Unova's data over the next few days.

Lucas forked a piece of cake and slipped it into his mouth, savoring as he pondered what Geeta wanted him to do in Unova.

Night raid on Team Plasma? Kidnap N, the King of Plasma?

Sneak the Light Stone and Dark Stone out of Dragonspiral Tower or the Sword of the Earth?

Or go to Elesa's fashion show…

Hassel didn't miss Lucas's thoughtful look. He also picked up the hot tea Oranguru had just topped up and took a light sip. Waving his knife and fork, he smiled. "If the Chairwoman wants you in Unova, it's most likely to send you to Opelucid Academy or Blueberry Academy."

"Blueberry Academy?"

Lucas frowned. He remembered Opelucid Academy—that was the academy founded by Drayden, the Dragon-type Gym Leader in Unova.

But Blueberry Academy? That sounded suspiciously like it had a subtle connection with Naranja/Uva Academy.

Could it be a facility from a remake he didn't know about—or something added once Kyurem entered the picture?

"You don't know?" Hassel looked at Lucas in surprise and went on to explain. "Blueberry Academy is a newly founded academy in Unova—the sister school to Naranja Academy. Supposedly most of its facilities are built out at sea, with Pokémon battles as the main curriculum."

"They say they're using a new technology to artificially create habitats suitable for Pokémon. I think it's called the 'Terarium Dome'…?"

"Even I'm very interested in that Terarium Dome. If I could use that tech to build an ideal habitat for my Dragon Legion, that would be wonderful—"

Blueberry Academy. Offshore facilities. Terarium Dome.

Aside from the ocean architecture that might vaguely call to mind Slateport or Lilycove in Hoenn, the rest was all news to him.

Seems this is new game content he doesn't know.

"As for why the Chairwoman might send you to Blueberry Academy, I have a guess."

"Naranja Academy is swaying in the storm right now. It needs to send out positive signals to avoid everyone scattering like monkeys from a fallen tree. Sending you to Opelucid or Blueberry should be one piece of the Chairwoman's plan."

Though an artist, Hassel was raised in an ancient clan of dragon tamers. His political nose was much keener than Lucas's. In a few sentences, he helped Lucas parse Geeta's thinking.

Lucas nodded slightly, grateful. "Thanks for the analysis."

"No problem. You shared the teaching package at Naranja; this is just returning the favor."

Hassel seemed to remember something and gently placed the big shoulder bag he'd been carrying on the table.

A vivid Gible was painted on the bag—probably Hassel's own work. It looked a bit stuffed. Lucas asked, puzzled, "What's inside?"

He'd assumed it held Hassel's art tools, maybe even an instrument or two…

 But from Hassel's expression, that didn't seem right.

Hassel chuckled and opened the bag to show Lucas. "Ta-da—local specialties for you!"

Two Pokémon Eggs lay quietly in incubators.

One had green and gray-brown stripes with yellow spots.

 The other had red and green stripes with no extra markings.

Lucas: "?"

Speechless. Since when are "local specialties" two Pokémon Eggs?

Seeing Lucas's wordless look, Hassel's expression turned complicated. He smiled bitterly. "That was a chaotic night—yours truly made a mistake."

He looked up to gauge Lucas's reaction.

Tapping the plate with his knife and fork, Lucas raised his left hand in a "please continue your act" gesture. "Go on with your story; I'm listening."

Realizing he wouldn't get the reaction he wanted, Hassel straightened, coughed twice, and said solemnly, "Ahem… no more jokes. These two Pokémon Eggs were laid among the Dragon Legion I free-range in my backyard."

"Since my capacity is limited, I want to find reliable new owners for them."

"So you chose me?" Lucas raised a brow, eyes falling to the Eggs. "You do realize most Dragon-types not only eat a lot, they can hardly contribute anything to a farm, right?"

"Which two Dragon-type Pokémon laid these?"

Hassel shook his head honestly. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Lucas's voice rose a notch.

"I keep them mixed—besides Dragon-types, there are many other Pokémon associated with Dragons. You know how many Dragon-types don't like raising their own offspring. These two Eggs were unclaimed."

"Judging from the Egg colors, they should have some connection to Grass-type. I figured they'd suit your farm, so I brought them."

Hassel looked genuinely aggrieved. Dragon-types are energetic by nature; the occasional mishap or fleeting romance isn't surprising. Add in that he keeps them mixed, and of course you can't always tell whose seed is whose.

Lucas palmed his forehead. "Doesn't your dragon-tamer clan teach you how to identify Eggs?"

"I cut class back then," Hassel said, righteously shameless.

Seeing how unreliable he looked, Lucas could only chant in his heart: "System, give me a hint about the Eggs' Pokémon."

[Coming right up! Dear Host-sama, the Egg on your left holds a Grass/Flying Pokémon; the one on your right holds a Grass/Dragon Pokémon!]

Ever since Swampert mastered Mega Evolution, his power had steadily climbed, and the System had grown ever more sycophantic—practically answering anything he asked.

Useful, though. Soon, Lucas narrowed the possibilities.

Grass/Flying, and dragon-related… most likely isn't Dragon-type, not a dragon but learns Dragon Dance—Tropius.

As for Grass/Dragon, Lucas first ruled out Alolan Exeggutor and Mega Sceptile.

One's a final form, the other requires Mega evolution. The System specified the Egg's Pokémon's typing, so those are basically out.

Which leaves only one answer.

First seen in Galar. A Pokémon with three possible evolutions. It's technically a bug but has the Dragon type—Applin.

If it's those two, he didn't mind taking them.

Tropius's main contribution would be its byproducts.

The fruit on its neck is sweet and beloved by children and the elderly. It bears twice a year, each time lasting half a year—practically continuous as long as it's well-fed.

Applin is even better. With the ability Ripen, used properly it might accelerate Berry maturation.

If this Applin has Ripen, Lucas felt it would absolutely be worth raising.

Both Pokémon would oddly suit the farm. After some thought, Lucas looked at Hassel and asked, "You really intend to give me these Applin and Tropius Eggs?"

"Applin and Tropius?"

Question marks popped over Hassel's head. How did Lucas already know what was inside the Eggs?

Still, both are Grass-type—likely useful to him.

So Hassel didn't dwell on the details. Beaming, he said, "Right? My instincts were spot on—they'll be perfect for your farm."

"I'm already under a lot of pressure raising so many Dragon-types. If you can take these two Eggs, that'd be for the best."

"I believe you'll take good care of them."

Lucas was silent for a while, then nodded firmly. "Understood. Oranguru—"

"Guru~"

Oranguru stepped forward, flicked his fan, and sent a wave of psychic power rolling out, precisely lifting the incubator cradling the two Eggs into the air.

Gentle and exact, he obeyed Lucas's instructions and floated the Eggs toward the third floor.

Hassel raised a brow. As an Elite Four, he could tell this Oranguru was more than a butler-level intellect—its strength might be surprisingly high.

That wave of psychic force hadn't been simple. 

Catching Hassel's curious gaze following Oranguru, Lucas thought he might be worried about the Eggs' destination and explained, "I asked Oranguru to take the Eggs to the third floor. Since they're Grass-type, sunbathing during incubation will help the babies be healthier."

Hassel nodded, unopposed. "I see. Since I've entrusted the Eggs to you, I'll take my leave."

Lucas nodded. He was about to get up to walk him out when he suddenly remembered the stock in his storeroom. "Before you go, take some things with you. I happen to have fresh Combee honey and some crops. Bring them back for your Pokémon."

At that, Hassel's eyes lit up. "Please do prepare some for yours truly!"

Chapter 243 The Corvisquire Mafia!

After entrusting the Eggs to Lucas, Hassel didn't linger. He mounted his Noivern with a big bag of local specialties Lucas gave him and left the farm.

Once Hassel was gone, Lucas returned to the living room, washed the cups and dishes, then quietly pulled out his phone and typed "Blueberry Academy" into the search bar.

The top result was Blueberry's grand project—news of the Terarium Dome's completion and commissioning, with a few overhead shots of the zones attached.

Four zones, four distinct terrains and climates.

Savanna Zone, Coastal Zone, Canyon Zone, Polar Zone.

A bit like how he'd named the three areas on his own farm. The chief designer was Cyrano—also Blueberry Academy's director.

As he scrolled through the photos and articles, Lucas's initial shock gradually settled, replaced by a bold idea forming in his heart.

If he could apply that technology to farm construction—to truly simulate Pokémon habitats and climates, and raise large numbers of Pokémon—he might build a farm of legendary renown!

But for now, such dreams would have to stay tucked away. It was more practical to keep improving the farm's basic infrastructure.

What he didn't notice was Oranguru, who had just set the two Eggs in place upstairs. Standing behind Lucas, he watched him with a thoughtful look.

…

The next morning, Lucas was woken by a raucous chorus of caws outside.

Yawning, he lifted Serperior's tail off his stomach, peeled Mimikyu's face off his cheek and tucked it back under the covers, carefully avoided Dragonite—who still insisted on sleeping beside him, but because of its size could only pitifully nest at the edge of the bed—and tiptoed to the window.

In the distance, a flock of crow-like Pokémon circled in the sky. Their hoarse, chattering calls made his brain throb. From time to time, black dots fell from above—only to be burned away by flames or blown apart by a pink Fairy Wind.

That was the direction of the chicken coop. The flames and fairy breeze were from the farm's security detail—Arcanine and Dachsbun. As for those black dots—probably rocks.

"They're back again—the Corvisquire."

Lucas's face was openly exasperated. He'd long since lost track of when it started, but these Corvisquire had begun harassing the farm frequently. The chicks in the coop were so on edge because of them that their nerves were constantly taut.

Which made Dolliv, who was caring for the chicks, extremely anxious.

As if the awful cawing weren't enough, they also dropped things from high altitude. Their birdly conduct and civilities were abysmal.

Via Oranguru—the gold-medal interpreter—Lucas had learned the story from Dolliv.

These Corvisquire had set their sights on the free-range chicks outside the coop. The security team—Arcanine and Dachsbun—naturally drove them off. In retaliation, the Corvisquire seemed to hold a grudge, showing up at dawn every single day to make trouble.

Even when driven away, those mule-stubborn pests were back the next morning without fail. Lucas had even started thinking about taking Luxray and razing their nest.

With a sigh, Lucas picked up the clothes-drying pole he kept by the window and poked it outside—

He wasn't planning to use it as a javelin to intimidate the Corvisquire; he wasn't that strong.

He extended the pole to the right until it tapped a wooden panel. He rapped the panel a few times and called, "Moltres, please go deal with it."

Yes—the birdhouse next to the window belonged to Moltres.

Face blank with numb resignation, Moltres poked its head out and looked at those lawless mobsters, once again wondering how many times it had to question its dignity and presence as a Legendary Pokémon.

As a legendary bird, it should exert absolute pressure on ordinary bird Pokémon.

Corvisquire, Fletchinder, Squawkabilly, Staravia, Doduo—the last one, scratch that.

When they saw it, they ought to scatter like mice before a cat—avoiding it like the plague, ducking and hiding, wary and distant, stepping back, keeping their heads down, moving with trepidation, overwhelmed with fear.

In practice, it swooped in and drove them off with the majesty of a Legendary Pokémon, even left its scent as a warning—and they still showed up right on time the next day. 

Country birds with no sense of the world—the hardest to handle.

Grumbling internally, Moltres nonetheless spread its flame-wreathed wings on the balcony outside the birdhouse at Lucas's urging and flew toward the circling Corvisquire.

The sight of Moltres charging in, flames blazing, quickly drew the Corvisquire's attention.

Their cunning red eyes met; a decision was made—time to scram!

They were very sure of their altitude management. The two dumb mutts below couldn't reach them—but this fiery big bird was different. They had no interest in sampling its Flamethrower.

Take the win and live to fight another day. They had plenty of time.

Their original goal of hunting chicks had now completely changed. All they wanted was to harass this farm to the utmost. Crows hold grudges—more than anyone!

Moltres was still charging its Flamethrower when the Corvisquire neatly turned and flapped away in unison—

Again?!

Rage shot to Moltres's head. Since when did Moltres suffer such humiliation?!

Anger urged it to bring out Harsh Sunlight and teach those birds a lesson with a Gatling burst of Flamethrowers.

Reason held it back. It knew its full power's destructive reach. One slip and the farm below would be scorched. Those crops couldn't stand even a lick of flame.

Not to mention, right next to the chicken coop grew the precious Herba Mystica. Going all-out was absolutely off the table.

Moltres suddenly missed its old, carefree self—before all these rules and constraints. Life on the farm meant many compromises.

…

That afternoon, Lucas gathered the key Pokémon in front of the coop.

When he'd bought the chicks, they'd been in their downy phase. After about half a month, they were only just starting to shed their fluff and grow adult feathers.

At this stage, they're energetic but easily affected by outside stimuli—easily startled.

Put yourself in their place. You're a tiny little chick. Every dawn, a flock of big birds circle overhead, staring at you with predatory eyes.

Wouldn't you be scared?