Chapter Sixty-One: Even Walking Grass Must Mind Road Safety

A Gigantamax Alcremie.

Zhu Suihan looked up, lost in his memories. All he could say was that when he was in that den, the sight of Alcremie stretching as far as the eye could see was truly...

Mouthwatering.

Compared to a princess’s imperial birthday cake, even that paled before a Gigantamax Alcremie.

He wondered if Alcremie, in its Gigantamax state, would be afraid of Snorlax.

Wait, no, by that logic, he should really be considering whether Eternatus’s radiating power could actually be digested.

As for the base of the nutrient solution, the best and most nutritious choice was, of course, high-quality Moomoo Milk.

Eggs from the pink family of Pokémon were also required—either Chansey or Blissey would do.

The key was to strike the right balance; newborn Pokémon couldn’t handle anything too thick or sticky.

"All this is making me want to try an egg myself," he muttered.

To put it simply, making nutrient solution was not unlike a bartender’s job; once the base was settled, it was time to move on to attribute cultivation.

Some ingredients were familiar, especially to trainers who specialized in battles.

Take Roseli Berries—for their excellent taste, yes, but more importantly, their effects in battle.

According to the original game description, when hit by a super-effective Fairy-type move, the berry lessens the damage.

It’s like equipping a highly specialized shield.

Think of it in terms of an online game: a piece of gear with a unique "Fire Resistance +1" affix.

Other berries, like Chople and Passho, have similar effects, reducing damage from particular types.

In reality, these effects still existed, but the logic was much simpler.

Not because the berries granted strange immunities, but because they could absorb matching types of energy and convert it into nutrition.

This conversion, from an outward perspective, appeared to weaken the energy and thus lessen the damage.

Depending on the berry’s ripeness and nutritional value, the protective effect against certain attacks varied.

In a way, it was like the difference between a Level 1 and Level 3 helmet.

If you ran into a powerhouse—say, Lance pushing his Pokémon to launch a full-force Dragon Rush—even the best helmet couldn’t save you.

Of course, here Lance meant the template for a Dragon Champion’s strength—not his current state.

Top-tier trainers might not need these, but for the majority, such berries were always useful—better safe than sorry.

Even if you didn’t use them on a journey, toss them in a pot over a campfire, and they made great ingredients.

"Roseli Berry juice... it’s supposed to have a touch of bitterness," Zhu Suihan mused, glancing at the berry encyclopedia app on his phone. Besides being used as a spice in cooking, Roseli Berries were usually brewed as herbal tea.

"Tea leaves? Now, that I know well."

He squeezed out the berry’s nutrients, setting aside the pulp to steep later and see what it tasted like.

As for the bitterness, he didn’t bother with special treatment—Moomoo Milk’s flavor would smooth it out.

"Berries, milk, eggs, and the attribute energy resources I’ll purify soon... That should be everything."

Once all the ingredients were ready, they went into the incense burner. After being made into energy cubes, they’d be soaked in Moomoo Milk.

Whether served as bubble tea or smashed into fruit-milk cubes, both would work.

The next day, after his morning classes, Zhu Suihan went straight to the administrative hall to request a batch of materials from the logistics department.

After some thought, it was best to use his own equipment—first, a simple upgrade to his incense burner.

The logistics teacher didn’t object, likely because the dean had already given a heads-up. As long as it wasn’t anything outrageous, he could have it.

Upgrading the incense burner was hardly a technical challenge—more like building blocks. Any old Minecraft player could do it with their eyes closed.

But it was tough on Lapras and the Gyarados in the lake.

"Woo!"

Extra rations!

"Gyara!"

Yes! Extra rations are a must!

Zhu Suihan glanced at the two and scratched his head.

"Extra food isn’t a problem, but you two aren’t exactly built for endurance."

During the assembly, he needed an energy source, so he’d planned to have Lapras use Thunderbolt to power things up.

But that wasn’t enough, so he ran to the lakeside and called Gyarados over to help.

If only Chinchou and Lanturn—those water-electric types—were easier to bring on land, his battery squad could have been even bigger.

Even with Gyarados helping, the two were still exhausted, their attribute energy almost completely drained.

"You two are indispensable—it’s all good stuff," Zhu Suihan said, producing energy cubes made from ten-year-old berries and feeding one to each.

Lapras seemed fully recovered, but Gyarados remained listless, so he gave him two more.

"You must be pretty strong—at least a tournament champion, right?" Zhu Suihan patted Gyarados’s massive side. "Are you an upperclassman’s Pokémon, or maybe even a professor’s?"

"Gyara."

Gyarados shook his head and pointed his whiskers toward the big lake outside.

That’s my territory!

Zhu Suihan and Lapras exchanged glances.

"The big lake is yours?"

"Gyara!"

Gyarados nodded proudly. The lake truly was his turf; no wonder he was so territorial whenever a Flying-type Pokémon passed overhead.

Territory was three-dimensional, after all—provided the master could fly.

But when Zhu Suihan had him help generate electricity, Gyarados actually felt a little insecure.

Am I really this weak? I’ve been slacking off lately.

What if someone took advantage of this and tried to challenge my reign as the lake’s overlord?

No, after a good rest, I have to train even harder!

Some strange, competitive urge—more precisely, the passive effect spread by that white-haired monkey—seemed to be contagious, now affecting Gyarados too.

"Gyara."

If you need this again, count me in!

As an old-timer—well, an old dragon—of Joy Academy, Gyarados had a keen sense for the quality of energy cubes.

Delicious, nutritious, and most importantly, no tricks—eat as much as you want, you’ll be full!

He nodded to Zhu Suihan and Lapras, then soared back to the lake, sinking contentedly into the water for a nap.

A perfect picture of a working stiff eating his fill and then crashing straight into bed.

"Interesting. The big lake actually has a proper owner."

Zhu Suihan patted Lapras’s head. "Thanks for your hard work. The organization will remember your contributions."

"Woo!"

Then give me another cube!

"I said your contribution will be remembered, not paid out right now. You can’t eat that much—I don’t want you turning into a chubby dragon I can’t even pick up."

After a bit of playful bickering, Lapras obediently returned to its ball to rest and was brought along to class.

The afternoon lesson was important, on the same level as the recent cocoon repair surgery—perhaps even more so.

This time, the hands-on practice involved real, diagnosed Pokémon patients.

It was a course for first-year students to hone their skills, held irregularly, and if you didn’t have a Pokémon to treat, you’d attend the theory session instead.

The "patients" came from a rather abstract background.

Zhu Suihan glanced at the diagnosis in his hand, then at the Oddish blinking up at him with clear, guileless eyes.

Oddish typically had five leaves on its head, the central one bending back at the tip.

This little one was missing a leaf, and one of the remaining four was badly cracked—just one careless move and it might snap off.

These patients were actually wild Pokémon living inside Joy Academy.

The class and students took care of these hapless creatures, which was a sort of welfare and compensation for them.

After all, living on campus, the odds of running into an overzealous student who’d scoop up a Pokémon for an affectionate squeeze were not zero.

Free medical care was at best spiritual damages paid in advance.

The main reason for the "abstract" origin, however, was Oddish’s own foolhardiness.

The little fellow wanted to find a new, better place to plant itself, and on its way it ran into a Scyther meditating in the woods—

—practicing the art of sensing the breath of nature, to perfect its slashing technique.

Oddish didn’t even notice, simply walking straight past, the leaves on its head brushing against Scyther’s arms—or rather, its blades.

And just like that, a leaf was lost.

If Scyther hadn’t felt the contact, raised its arm in time, and opened its eyes, Oddish might never have realized what happened.

When a new leaf grew in, it would probably have forgotten the whole incident.

Honestly, Scyther felt a little insulted.

High emotional intelligence: Becoming one with nature, skills greatly improved.

Low emotional intelligence: You have zero presence whatsoever.

So it was straightforward—Scyther immediately brought Oddish to the academy, found a teacher, and handed the little simpleton over for treatment.

The teacher said Scyther was still waiting outside, probably to escort Oddish back after it was all done.

As an unwitting participant, Zhu Suihan had to admit: Scyther was genuinely kindhearted.

"You... never mind, does it hurt?"

Zhu Suihan wasn’t about to ask the foolish "do you feel sick?"—but from Oddish’s eyes, he couldn’t see any reaction at all.

If it couldn’t feel anything, he wasn’t sure what treatment to try next.

Maybe Scyther’s blade was so sharp that Oddish didn’t even notice the cut.

Not only was it clueless, but also rather bold—standing on the table, Oddish kept sizing up Zhu Suihan as if he were a zoo exhibit.

"Nazo."

Oddish wobbled, not feeling pain, but rather an itch on its head.

"Stop, stop, stop, don’t shake," Zhu Suihan said, pressing a finger gently to Oddish’s little head.

The cracked leaf wasn’t too bad, but if it broke in half, it would have to be cut off entirely.

For that leaf, it would be a case of “beyond saving—just let it go.”