Chapter Eight: The Gluttonous Gengar Gets Caught

"Thank you for visiting. We look forward to seeing you again," the manager intoned woodenly as he saw Zhuyuehan out, numb from head to toe. If this guest hadn’t been in a hurry, the Lucky Star’s “destructive power” might have swept through the entire Rocket Tower. Setting aside the lucky customer’s shopping card and the proceeds from the transactions, it seemed she could live comfortably for the rest of her life simply by relying on her good luck in prize draws. And it would be a life of the highest quality at that.

“Is it heavy? Would you like some help carrying it?”
Zhuyuehan produced a miniature incense burner from her pocket. “This thing of mine can hold quite a lot.”
“Bailey.”
The messenger bird shook his head. Compared to the loads he usually carried when delivering food to the nearby forest, this was nothing.
“Then I’ll trouble you,” Zhuyuehan said, patting the bird’s head. There was no time to fuss over her hairstyle now—the manager had simply sent over a deluxe hairband set. She tied a quick ponytail, revealing the lines of her face. That should be enough to keep people from mistaking her for a “beautiful sister,” provided they weren’t looking at her through a screen—or unless she ran into someone as rough as Ma Zhishi.

“Director of the Rocket Group’s Technology Department, huh? That’s an interesting position.”
With Sakaki’s various positive actions before her, no one would likely find it odd that the leader of the Koga Gym worked for the Rocket Group. After all, both people and Pokémon had to make a living.
Heading toward the high-rise restaurant, Zhuyuehan began considering how to use her newfound wealth. As for the Evolution Stone set and the like, she’d keep them for now; you never knew when such things might come in handy. In the world of Pokémon, spatial backpacks were common, and she herself had a massive incense burner. She’d be doing her hamster instincts a disservice if she didn’t put them to good use.

Meanwhile, in a quiet corner of the observation restaurant, Professor Oak was sweating heavily as he made a phone call.
It’s me, Professor Oak. I need money!
“That’s the situation. We have a big eater here—really impressive appetite. I’m worried I won’t have enough cash on me.”
Green: ?
Someone who could eat a gym’s entire food reserve in one sitting, and now Grandpa was treating them to a high-end meal? Even with a family fortune, there had to be limits!
“What’s wrong?”
Green covered the phone and glanced at the entrance; a hat-wearing battle maniac was staring back.
“It’s time for our scheduled training, but you didn’t show.”
Green paused. “My grandpa’s treating a human Snorlax to dinner at a fancy restaurant.”
Red raised an eyebrow. “Will he have enough money?”
“Grandpa only expected to visit the Kaji Gym, so he just grabbed a savings card and some change. He didn’t anticipate all this.”
Green shook his head. “I’ll just transfer funds through the computer. After it’s done, I’ll go train with you.”
Red grinned. “Heh, I was waiting for you to say that.”
Inside the restaurant, Professor Oak breathed a sigh of relief. If Liu Bo hadn’t warned him about Zhuyuehan’s astonishing appetite, he might have needed to gather funds from his old friends today. Swiping his face as credit at the restaurant was an option, but not something to be done lightly.

“What’s going on with you two?”
Mr. Steel affectionately patted Chihiro’s head, though his gaze lingered on the silent Liu Bo.
“Is that kid really such a big eater?”
Liu Bo’s mouth twitched. “He emptied the Kaji Gym’s stores in one meal and had me order food from the city to replenish them. What do you think?”
The breeder couple glanced at Kikuko, who sat silent in her chair, and sighed. Honestly, it was already good enough that she was willing to come at all.

“Hey, Professor Oak!”
Samuel Oak turned and froze in place.

What was with the giant parcel in the messenger bird’s claws?
Zhuyuehan opened the package and rummaged through it, then handed over a pristine Evolution Stone set.
“A gift for you. It’s nothing especially valuable, though.”
Oak: ?
Zhuyuehan took a seat beside Liu Bo. The elders, plus Chihiro, stared at the gift in her hands, struggling to process the situation. Such a huge package, and all of it won in prize draws?
Don’t think you can fool us just because we’re old!

Mr. Steel rolled the commemorative Poké Ball, a joint product of the Rocket Group and Silph Co., in his hand, but his gaze slid toward Zhuyuehan, who sat calmly feeding little treats to her Lapras.
Chihiro tugged at his sleeve. “Grandpa, this big brother really looks just like a beautiful sister!”
Zhuyuehan’s face darkened as she wondered if she should adopt a monk’s hairstyle instead.

“Haha, come now, Zhuyuehan, let me make some introductions.”
Professor Oak forcibly changed the subject. “These are all old friends of mine and Old Gu’s.”
The breeding house couple, Kikuko the Ghost Elite, and Mr. Steel.
Zhuyuehan sipped her tea. This was a table of formidable figures.
Kikuko needed no introduction, and the Johto breeding house was future territory for the Golden Bachelor. What intrigued him more was the origin of Mr. Steel’s GS Ball techniques.

“Zhuyuehan, the one who walked out of the ice,” Kikuko murmured, eyes narrowed, glancing at the Gengar floating behind her, its stubby arms gripping the chair back.
She, too, had read the inscription.
“Have you sensed anything?”
Gengar scratched its head—then struck!
“Geng!”

Zhuyuehan watched the wagging tongue before her, recalling the green, tongue-shaped jelly she’d stubbornly licked as a child, refusing to bite.
It’s fine. I’ll handle this.
Under the astonished eyes of the others, Zhuyuehan reached out and pinched Gengar’s tongue, lifting and examining it.
“Hm, there’s a strange taste. Are you overheated? Did you sneak something you shouldn’t have eaten?”
Gengar: ?
With its tongue caught, the ghost Pokémon could barely make a sound, stunned by Zhuyuehan’s train of thought.
I’m supposed to be scaring you—where’s your sense of respect?

Kikuko’s gaze sharpened. “How did you figure that out—or should I say, smell it?”
“Gengar is a Ghost and Poison type.”
Please, did she really think a purple, chubby fellow could scare him?
If anything, refraining from scooping it up for a good cuddle was already showing respect for Gengar’s rights as a ghost.

“This is just a normal gathering, not a battle, so Gengar wouldn’t deliberately test me with toxins. That would be far too dangerous.”
“A Ghost-type Pokémon, unless its properties are special, should carry a cool, clean scent. But I smell a faint spiciness and bitterness.”
“You’re a Ghost-type specialist, so you wouldn’t make a basic mistake in raising your Pokémon. The only explanation is that Gengar ate something spicy and bitter, and probably overindulged.”
Zhuyuehan continued, “That’s not much different from humans, so I figured…”
“Geng!”
Gengar wrenched free from the offending hand and, with a deft leap, dove toward its shadow.
He’d come to torment Zhuyuehan, not to be tormented!

Kikuko’s voice was flat. “Gengar, come here.”
Gengar froze mid-dive, his little arms only half a meter from the shadow.
“Geng…”
The little chub obediently floated to Kikuko’s side and produced an exquisitely packaged box of Pokéblocks from his mouth.
“Eat less. Even Pokéblocks can harm your body if you overdo it.”

Kikuko’s cane tapped Gengar’s head lightly. “Confiscated.”
Gengar turned to Zhuyuehan, attempting the classic tactic of bullying the soft and fearing the hard.
He rolled his eyes at his nemesis, stuck out his tongue, and then retreated into the shadow, sulking.
How could it be? Was his face no longer scary enough?
Yet every time he dealt with lawbreakers, one look was enough to send them fainting without even a battle.
Gengar snapped his fingers, as if realizing something.
Yes—it must be this brat’s problem!

“Heh, now I see why that old geezer Oak recommended you for the breeding path,” Kikuko said, smiling for the first time, though her expression still carried a sinister edge.
“I thought you’d been hoodwinked by him, but it seems you truly have a gift for this.”
“Kid, let me ask you: if one of your partners wanted to battle, to shine on a stage like the League Conference, what would you do?”
Zhuyuehan frowned. “If we assume, as a premise, that there’s truly a Pokémon who loves to battle and is willing to be my partner.”
Kikuko nodded. “Yes. If that were the case, what would you choose?”
“If that’s the case, it means both my partner and I have accepted each other. It’s a two-way journey in every sense.”
Zhuyuehan smiled. “If that day comes, we’ll all support them, because that kind of existence is both my partner and my family.”
“A fine answer.”

Not only Kikuko, but the other elders smiled as well.
It wasn’t about compromise, but mutual fulfillment.
This was exactly what they wanted to hear.

“All right, all right, we’re here to eat today, not for a lecture. Food, please!”
Professor Oak called for the meal. “Today, we’re celebrating Zhuyuehan’s return from the dead—ow!”
Liu Bo and Mr. Steel, in perfect unison, kicked Professor Oak from either side.
Return from the dead?
If you can’t talk properly, then don’t talk at all! If you must, at least make a Pokémon-themed joke!

“Haha, it really is a return from the dead,” Zhuyuehan laughed. “If it weren’t for Liu Bo, I’d probably still be lying somewhere in the Abyss, gnawing on ice to fill my stomach.”
Or, if he were truly desperate, with his digestion he might even become a relative of Larvitar, devouring a whole mountain before moving on.

“Wuwu.”
Lapras nudged Zhuyuehan’s cheek, expressing gratitude in its gentle way. Liu Bo closed his eyes, lost in memory.
When Lapras’s parents fell, Liu Bo had nearly given in to despair.
But then he saw an Ice Beam shoot upward from the depths, and realized his cherished partner was still alive.
Rushing down, Liu Bo and Lapras found the wounded Lapras couple on the ice, and Zhuyuehan sleeping in the frozen depths.
They craved his strength but feared his existence.
But so what?

“He saved my Lapras. That’s enough.”
Liu Bo took a yellowed sheet of paper from his pocket—a simple song, the melody a bit amateurish.
It was “The Song of Lapras”, composed by friends to celebrate the miraculous survival of his Lapras, and to comfort himself.
The ice had melted.

Liu Bo carefully put away the score, raised his glass of juice, and smiled so broadly that even Kikuko found it unsettling.
“Come, everyone,” Liu Bo looked around, “let us celebrate our new life!”