·Chapter 111: The Struggle Among Kin and the Soon-to-Hatch Egg14 FebWhere there are people, there are rivalries. The same holds true for Pokémon.

  Whenever a group of Pokémon gathers, it’s iable that one or more fas will form, peting for resources.

  This is especially true for stray Pokémon iy.

  They usually have their own anizations—perhaps ne, but certainly hierarchical.

  Purrloin was once part of such a small group.

  It lived alongside a few other Pokémon, surviving by sging trash when necessary.

  It’s not that it didn’t want to win over humans with its ess to get food.

  It’s just that all the good spots where kied humans would feed Pokémon were already cimed by others.

  If they tried to approach, they’d get beaten up.

  So, Purrloin usually wahe city’s outskirts—old neighborhoods, small vilges he urban fringes, pces like that.

  There, it would occasionally e across kied humans who would offer some food.

  Being cute definitely had its perks.

  And Purrloin had great fiden its ability to act adorable.

  Strictly speaking, Purrloin had grown up living off the generosity of many different people.

  But whatever food it mao sge from humans or elsewhere, it e alo had t it back to their group’s gathering pce.

  There, a powerful Gloom would distribute the food.

  That was just how it worked for okémon.

  Purrloin didn’t like it.

  Sometimes, it even thought about leaving altogether.

  But the other Pokémon would persuade it otherwise.

  "Just bear with it a little longer."

  "E. Just a bit more."

  After all, this was at least a way to survive. If it left, it would just bee an easy target for others.

  If you don’t want to do this job, plenty of other Pokémon do.

  Pokémon are simple creatures—or at least, they’re supposed to be.

  But city-dwelling strays? They were anything but simple.

  Many of them had once been owned by humans, only to be abandoned or released.

  Some had picked up a thing or two from their former trainers.

  Over time, urban Pokémon developed their own intricate social works, full of manipution and backstabbing.

  It was exhausting.

  Sometimes, Purrloin would sit idly on the windowsill of an abandoned warehouse, staring bnkly at the distant skyline.

  It had heard that some Pokémon were loved and cared for by humans.

  They didn’t have to scheme and fight.

  They didn’t have to worry about their meal being stolen.

  They didn’t have to wonder what tomorrow would bring.

  All they had to do was train uheir trainer’s guidand grow stronger. Nothing else.

  What a nice life that must be.

  Acc to rumors, one Pokémon in their little group had once beloo a trainer.

  But it had longed for freedom and hated training, so it ran away.

  It hadn’t gone well.

  Supposedly, it even is trainer in the process.

  All for the sake of so-called "freedom."

  But it didn’t take long before it regretted that decision.

  Life outside wasn’t as great as it had imagined.

  Freedom came with a price.

  And that price was having to worry about things it had never even sidered before.

  Later, that Pokémon actually tried to go back—to return to its old life.

  The result?

  It was obvious.

  The fact that it was still here, running with the strays, said everything.

  Purrloin, who had been born into this kind of life, didn’t really uand that Pokémon’s way of thinking.

  If it were ever caught by a trainer, would it want to escape?

  Probably not.

  At least, that’s urrloin thought.

  But it wasn’t in any rush to find a trainer just yet.

  There were good humans, but also bad ones.

  So, it kept .

  Then, one day, Purrloin overheard something iing.

  It had learned about a farm.

  Don’t be surprised—wild Pokémon have their own informatioworks.

  In fact, they gossip like old vilgers at the town square, spreading news at lightning speed.

  Word was that the farm’s owner was strong and kied.

  Many Pokémon had been taken in and were living there.

  Any Pokémon the farm owner accepted could stay.

  There was unlimited food—Pokéblocks every day, as much as one could eat.

  There was o worry about safety.

  And the farm owner didn’t foron to do anything they didn’t want to do.

  At first, Purrloin didn’t think much of the rumors.

  After all, stories like these were never reliable.

  They had about as much credibility as the urban legend that a Caterpie could evolve into a Rayquaza at max level.

  Not just questioright impossible.

  Some Pokémon even spread tales about a loray possessing a legendary artifact.

  Seriously?

  Not a ce.

  Purrloin dismissed it as just another exaggerated rumor.

  There were more immediate s—like what to eat tomorrow.

  Where to beg without gettien up.

  But as time passed, the rumors about the farm didn’t fade.

  More and more Pokémo for it—some never returned.

  And those that did e back?

  They scoffed, calling it all lies. Fake.

  …They said this while sp bruises all over their heads.

  Slowly, Purrloin started to waver.

  If it stayed in this miserable pce, its whole life would be set in stone.

  A future so predictable it was suffog.

  So one night, it made up its mind.

  It was going to find that farm.

  "Meow?"

  Is the farm far?

  Purrloiantly asked a Pokémon that had been there before.

  "Woof."

  Very far. You have to cross the whole city and then keep going.

  And that farm owner is a bad guy.

  The Houndour, its face still swollen from a beating, growled through gritted teeth.

  Purrloin didn’t believe it.

  Or rather, it wasn’t sure what to believe—but it still wao try.

  Better to take a ce than waste away in this pce.

  That night, Purrloin packed its things.

  A shabby bag filled with a bit of food.

  The st of its personal stash.

  A few berries and a small box of failed Pokéblock experiments.

  They tasted awful and burs throat.

  But Pokéblocks were Pokéblocks.

  It figured they’d have to do.

  Not that it had much choice—it didn’t have anything else.

  Once everything was ready, Purrloin quietly slipped out of the abandoned warehouse.

  Its natural Psychic abilities helped it evade the guards on night patrol.

  And just like that, Purrloi off on its journey.

  Holy? It regretted it almost immediately.

  Not because of any real hardship—just the creeping uainty.

  But Purrloin knew ohing for sure: no matter what choice it made, it would always have regrets.

  If it stayed, it would regret never haviured out.

  If it left, it would regret not staying where it was safe.

  Either way, there would be regret.

  So it might as well move forward.

  After giving itself a pep talk, Purrloin tinued on its journey.

  Its initial food supply had run out halfway through the trip.

  From then on, it had te for food as it traveled.

  Looking baow, Purrloin didn’t even want to recall everything it had gohrough.

  Suffice it to say, stepping out of its fort zone aien down by reality was iable.

  The accumuted stress and tension from the joured the moment it caught sight of Natsume’s farm.

  Overe with excitement, Purrloin dramatically fainted.

  When it regained sciousness, it found itself being watched.

  And that, in a nutshell, urrloin's story.

  Of course, certaiails had been embellished, and some things had been vely left out.

  Not that it was a bad thing—it was just that some parts of its past werely something it wahers to know.

  Kind of like how no one wants to recall that phase in middle school where they clutched a utility knife, imagihemselves as ae assassin, and seriously sidered taking out the teacher who kept holding the css back after hours.

  After listening to Purrloin's tale, Natsume scratched his head.

  "You sure have a lot going on in that little head of yours."

  As Purrloin had mentioned earlier, retly, quite a few Pokémon had e to the farm seeking refuge.

  It wasly an overwhelming influx, but it wasn’t a small number either.

  The kinder ones, Natsume allowed to stay.

  With the farm’s ret expansion, there was now plenty of open space.

  Taking in more Pokémon was just a way of increasing the farm’s popution.

  Of course, there were also those who came with ulterior motives.

  Most of them were politely shown the way out.

  That is, if they cooperated.

  And if they didn’t?

  Well, just take a look at the bruised and battered Houndour Natsume had "escorted" off the premises.

  "e o’s have a one-och. Let’s see what’s tougher—your skull or my fist."

  Lately, Natsume had entered all sorts of Pokémon.

  Ordinary ones, etries, kind ones, and even ht malicious ones.

  But one like Purrloin? This was a first.

  A Pokémon that had actually starved itself into unsciousness.

  Emmmm...

  Hard to judge.

  In a way, that was kind of impressive.

  "Ugh..."

  Turning its head aurrloin was mortified.

  It didn’t want to faatsume.

  "Alright, alright, it’s fine."

  Seeing Purrloin's rea, Natsume chuckled and reached out, giving its head a gentle rub.

  "Meow?"

  "You must’ve had a rough time getting here."

  "But from now on, you don’t have to worry anymore."

  Hearing Natsume’s words, Purrloin suddenly felt an inexplicable wave of emotion welling up inside.

  That feeling of being uood, of someone finally aowledging what it had been struggling with alo was overwhelming.

  Its witched slightly, and it rubbed its little face, doing its best to maintain its usual bnk expression.

  g in front of someo had just met was way too embarrassing.

  After all, it was a beautiful young dy. Even among other Purrloin, it was one of the better-looking ones.

  A beautiful young dy must not shed tears so easily!

  With Mightyena’s family and Kirlia as witnesses, Purrloin was officially weled into the farm.

  At that moment, Emolga happeo pass by and caught sight of Purrloin being released from its Poké Ball.

  "Yimo?"

  The small gray feline, expressionless as ever, made Emolga’s eyes narrow slightly in suspi.

  Why did this one feel... familiar?

  No, don’t get the wrong idea. There wasn’t some dramatic, long-lost blood retion at py.

  A cat and a squirrel—what kind of e could they possibly have?

  It was just that something about this new Pokémon’s aura felt oddly familiar to Emolga.

  Hmm... the st of a little "green tea" schemer, huh?

  As the reigning top-tier greerategist of the farm, Emolga’s eyes sharpened instantly.

  This guy… wasn’t simple.

  Purrloin, oher hand, seemed to sense something as well.

  Turning its head, it quickly spotted Emolga among the crowd.

  Faced with this tiny rodent that was clearly harb some hostility toward it, Purrloin...

  Raised a paw and waved amicably.

  It even forced its mouth into an awkward little smile.

  !

  This one’s ranking is high!

  In that instant, Emolga made a snap judgment.

  Despite having a million thoughts rag through its mind, it reized the strategy at py—arriving in a new enviro, immediately dispying goodwill, and showing that you’re harmless.

  This was a move Emolga was all too familiar with.

  It was o had used many times before.

  As their gazes met, an invisible battlefield was set.

  A war of social maneuvering had begun.

  Of course, Natsume was pletely unaware of all this.

  Even if he knew, he wouldn’t pay much attention.

  A little "green tea" behavior? Normal.

  As long as it didn’t lead to anything problematic, he wouldn’t interfere.

  After all, the so-called harmony of the farm was only harmonious on the surface.

  There was no way every single Pokémon would get along perfectly with every other Pokémon.

  That was simply impossible.

  If such a thing did exist, it could only meahing—some tyrant was enf an iron-fisted rule, f everyoo maintain that facade.

  Besides, the Pokémon that usually stayed close to Natsume had already taken it upon themselves tute the day-to-day matters of the farm.

  flicts between Pokémon were generally handled internally.

  A system was already in pce.

  The cold and intimidating Persiahe enforcer.

  The ever-calm Slowking acted as the mediator, sometimes delivering an intelligence-based beatdown that left both parties too stuue.

  The always-ready-to-fight Ogerpon stood by, prepared to bonk any troublemakers.

  Ah, all striforcers, huh?

  Damn it, was there not a single warmhearted, friendly Pokémon on this farm?! (Just kidding.)

  Jokes aside, things rarely escated that far.

  With Slowking’s intellect, resolving disputes ractically overkill—like asking gods to sing for tips in a tavern.

  Meanwhile, Lopunny was leading a pair of Indeedee around the farm, showing them the facilities.

  The two Indeedee were siblings and had an exceptionally strong bond.

  Natsume had mentiohat iure, the farm’s daily operations would likely be entrusted to them.

  The male Indeedee would handle farm ma.

  The female one would oversee daily affairs.

  These were inally Lopunny’s responsibilities, but there was no fli their duties.

  Lopunny had never particurly cared about aher than Natsume and o.

  It only helped with daily tasks because Natsume asked.

  Things like preparing and distributing the Pokéblocks for other Pokémon could be delegated to the female Indeedee from now on.

  Lopunny’s only real priority was staying by Natsume’s side.

  "Indee?"

  As they passed by a room on the sed floor, the female Indeedee suddenly stopped.

  For just a moment, it had sensed something from inside.

  Though they were siblings, its sensitivity was far sharper than its brother’s.

  It could perceive things othev

  r Pokémon wouldn’t notice.

  "Indee?"

  Is there... an egg inside?

  Pointing at the door, the female Indeedee curiously asked.

  "Lopuu."

  Yeah, there’s an egg. Why?

  Lopunny g the female Indeedee in fusion.

  "Indee..."

  That egg… it’s about to hatch.

  After a slight hesitation, the female Indeedee voiced its observation.

  The joy of a new life about to ehe world—the energy was overwhelmingly strong in its perception.

  Gcell