Pokémon: Farm Story

Watching as Gardevoir effortlessly gathered the lingering poison in the air with its psychic power, compressing it into a small orb held in its hand—

Only then did Corviknight finally feel reassured enough to land on the ground, glaring indignantly at the toxic creature before it.

Normally, Steel-types are immune to Poison-types.

But as previously mentioned, absolute immunity is something that only exists in games.

In reality, it’s almost nonexistent.

First of all, while Corviknight is both Flying and Steel-type, it is still a creature of flesh and blood—unlike Magnemite or Beldum, which possess purely metallic bodies.

A body of flesh and blood cannot achieve complete immunity to poison.

And in the Pokémon world, discussing type advantages without considering strength is also meaningless.

If we were to follow the game’s mechanics, then a Venoshock from Eternatus shouldn't do anything to Magnemite.

Magnemite should even be able to counter with a Tackle.

But in reality, that’s impossible.

Even if the poison itself has no effect, the sheer impact of the attack alone would be enough to knock Magnemite out of the fight.

As for Corviknight—

It wasn’t actually worried that Pecharunt's attacks would cause it harm.

What truly annoyed it was this little pest’s constant habit of spitting venom everywhere.

The poison on the ground, it could ignore.

But the toxic gas and the airborne poison that had evaporated into a gaseous state were a real headache for Corviknight.

Blowing the poison away would have been simple—

But Corviknight was also wary of affecting the surroundings.

In the forest, setting fires was a serious crime.

Poisoning the environment wasn’t much better.

This battle had left Corviknight thoroughly frustrated.

If they had been fighting somewhere else—like an open field with no other Pokémon around, or even inside a proper battle arena—

Then Corviknight could have gone all out and utterly crushed this cowardly little pest.

“Pechaa…”

Pinned down with one hand by Gardevoir, Pecharunt glared at Natsume with resentment.

From its perspective, this human was completely unreasonable.

It had been minding its own business in its own territory—

Then out of nowhere, this guy barged in and started attacking.

The mask?

Yeah, I took it. So what?

Go ahead, fight me then…

Oh.

He actually did.

But so what if I took the mask?!

Can’t we just talk this out?!

That was what Pecharunt thought as it directed other Pokémon to steal the mask on its behalf.

Humans are hypocritical creatures.

And Pokémon are no different.

When they’re the stronger side, they’ll say, The strong should crush the weak mercilessly.

But the moment they’re on the weaker side, they’ll start preaching about sportsmanship, morality, and fairness.

“Pechaa!”

Fine, I took it!

Gritting its teeth, Pecharunt admitted it without hesitation.

Denying it wouldn’t change anything now.

Owning up to it might at least end things faster—if it denied it, it would just get beaten up more.

What’s the point in that?

Besides, it was just two masks.

Pecharunt had plenty of other treasures in its collection.

Losing them was unfortunate, but as long as it survived, it could always gather more in the future.

Seeing how readily Pecharunt confessed, Natsume wasn’t surprised.

Before coming here, to show his determination to sever ties with Pecharunt, Okidogi had given Natsume a detailed analysis of its personality.

High EQ interpretation: Arrogant but quick to fold under pressure.

Low EQ interpretation: A giant baby.

Trying to reason with it was pointless.

Only by using sheer strength to make it acknowledge the gap in power could any kind of normal conversation take place.

Sounded logical.

But it was also completely useless information.

Because, seriously, who would still insist on fighting after realizing the gap in power?

Sure, there are people who would rather break than bend.

But Pecharunt definitely wasn’t one of them.

Most creatures, as long as it didn’t involve their core principles, were extremely pragmatic.

Under Gardevoir’s death stare, Pecharunt spilled everything.

Including how it had ordered Okidogi, Munkidori, and Fezandipiti to steal the masks.

It also revealed that the Hearthflame Mask and the Cornerstone Mask were currently in its lair.

But as for the Wellspring Mask and Verdant Mask—

It didn’t have those.

Pecharunt tried desperately to emphasize this point.

After all, if it got beaten up over something it didn’t even have, that would be utterly unfair.

It could feel it—

That iron bird next to Natsume was itching to take a swing at it.

Like hell I’ll give you that chance!

“Well then, we’ll have to trouble you to lead the way.”

Cross-referencing this with the information Okidogi had provided, everything seemed to match.

There shouldn’t be any discrepancies.

“……”

Pecharunt's dead-fish eyes twitched.

It had a lot it wanted to say.

But none of it was fit for broadcast.

You already had your Pokémon beat me up, and now you’re being all polite?

What’s the point?!

Pecharunt simply couldn’t understand.

But feeling the psychic energy restraining it, it wisely kept silent.

Obediently, it led Natsume and Gardevoir to its dwelling.

Most wild Pokémon weren’t particularly skilled at building shelters.

Pecharunt was no exception—it had simply taken over an abandoned ranger cabin in the woods.

And on the walls of that abandoned cabin—

Natsume saw them.

The Hearthflame Mask and the Cornerstone Mask—both belonging to Ogerpon.

“Uhmah!”

With the Wellspring Mask on its face, Ogerpon leapt out from behind Natsume, its eyes shining with excitement.

The joy of recovering something precious after losing it—

It was enough to make anyone momentarily lose themselves in emotion.

And right now, on top of that joy, Ogerpon was also seeing its enemy beaten to a pulp.

Double the happiness.

It felt like this was the second happiest moment of its life.

The happiest, of course, was the moment it had been officially captured by Natsume.

After giving Natsume a tight hug, Ogerpon eagerly leapt up to reclaim its masks.

One after another, it switched between the three masks.

With each change, its typing shifted accordingly.

Ogerpon’s greatest trait was its ability to change its type by wearing different masks.

The Verdant Mask was pure Grass.

The Wellspring Mask added Water, the Hearthflame Mask added Fire, and the Cornerstone Mask added Rock.

Theoretically, with different masks, Ogerpon could learn moves corresponding to those attributes.

And given its overall strength, this made it quite formidable.

The last Pokémon capable of changing its typing like this was Arceus—at least in fan theories.

But Ogerpon could do it too.

Although it only had three additional typings, its strength was undeniable.

Unfortunately, the games didn’t quite do it justice.

Perhaps because its movepool lacked enough of those corresponding type moves.

It only had Spiky Shield, which changed typing along with the mask.

But that didn’t matter.

After all, there was always Teacher Mew.

“pechaa.”

I gave you the masks. Can I go now?

Glancing warily at the floating Mew behind Natsume, Pecharunt cautiously asked.

To make travel easier and to keep them contained, Natsume had temporarily captured Okidogi, Munkidori, and Fezandipiti in three Luxury Balls.

And to prevent them from struggling once they woke up—

He handed the Poké Balls over to Mew, who had reverted to its true form.

At this moment, Mew was floating in the air, juggling three balls like a circus performer.

Inside the Luxury Ball, Okidogi was suffering in silence.

Oh, great Lord Mew.

I truly, sincerely submit to you.

But could you please stop playing with me like this?

I feel like I’m about to throw up.

Covering its mouth, Okidogi was in agony.

Compared to its situation, it even envied the still-unconscious Fezandipiti and the fainted Munkidori—courtesy of a punch from Natsume before he left.

If possible, it wished Natsume had punched it too.

It wouldn’t dare ask anything of either Natsume or Mew.

Neither of them were the type to be reasoned with.

Natsume was at least somewhat reasonable.

But Mew? Mew was just plain willful.

The kind of willful that was impossible to talk down.

At this point, Okidogi could only hope that Pecharunt would finish up soon so that Natsume would remember it and let it out.

“Let you go…?”

Faced with Pecharunt’s request, Natsume didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze toward Ogerpon.

He intended to leave the decision to Ogerpon.

If Ogerpon was willing to forgive these guys, then Natsume had no objections.

But… Natsume thought that was unlikely.

In the original game, Ogerpon had mercilessly crushed Fezandipiti, Okidogi, and Munkidori.

It even beat Pecharunt itself into hiding inside its shell, refusing to come out.

In a way, the people of Kitakami calling Ogerpon a “demon” wasn’t entirely wrong.

Imagine this—on a dark, moonless night, you see a blood-covered figure standing over three lifeless bodies.

Wouldn’t you also think they were a serial killer?

Even if someone told you they were actually a good person, it’d be hard to believe.

“Hmmaa…”

Hugging its long-lost mask, Ogerpon hesitated.

Should it just finish this guy off?

It wasn’t like that wasn’t an option.

It would definitely be satisfying, but only temporarily.

For Natsume, this whole trip would’ve been a waste of time and effort.

So, should it suggest to Natsume to capture them instead?

These guys were weak and nasty, but at least they could count as spoils of war.

Maybe Natsume could find some use for them.

Probably.

Ogerpon wavered slightly.

It had already decided what to do with these four.

But just letting them off the hook so easily felt a bit unsatisfying.

“You don’t need to overthink it. Just choose what you truly want.”

A familiar hand rested on Ogerpon's head.

Natsume’s voice was as gentle as ever.

Feeling that familiar warmth, Ogerpon's gaze gradually became resolute.

“Hmmaa, hmma!”

It had decided—Natsume should capture them.

That way, the farm would have a few more errand runners.

In Ogerpon's mind, adding these guys meant more combat power for the farm.

And they’d make great punching bags for training.

A win-win situation.

If it ever got angry again, it could just go beat them up.

As for whether it worried that Natsume might favor them?

Ogerpon could pat its chest and say with confidence—not a chance.

It might not be Natsume’s absolute favorite, but its position in Natsume’s heart was far beyond these poison-laced idiots.

Its place was solid. No need to worry.

Thinking that, it felt much more at ease.

“You sure?”

Hearing Ogerpon's decision, Natsume was a bit surprised.

After all, these guys had hurt Ogerpon before.

To be honest, if Natsume were in Ogerpon's shoes, he wouldn’t have let them go.

He would’ve cremated them on the spot and scattered their ashes.

If this were some urban fantasy protagonist, forget the perpetrators themselves—their entire bloodline would be wiped out.

Family, friends, the whole lot—send them off together. That way, they’d have company in the afterlife.

These days, being “decisive” was a fundamental skill for protagonists.

Your protagonist might not know how to breathe properly, but they damn well better be decisive.

If they spent all their time mumbling nonsense, readers might barely tolerate it.

But if they weren’t decisive enough?

Sorry, nobody’s putting up with that.

Even the famously gentle Wolf from a certain game never hesitated when he had to strike.

No need for talk-no-jutsu—I’ll cut your head off first, then we can chat.

“Hmmaa!”

Ogerpon nodded firmly, showing it had thought this through.

Eliminating them would be simple.

But that would mean Natsume walked away empty-handed.

If they were captured instead, Ogerpon could go beat them up whenever it felt like it.

It was all about the long game.

“…Alright.”

Natsume ruffled Ogerpon's head twice, then pulled an empty Luxury Ball from his belt.

A while back, he had transferred all his closer Pokémon into Luxury Balls.

They didn’t see much use, but in situations like this, they’d at least be more comfortable.

Different types of Poké Balls weren’t just about price and appearance.

Their capture efficiency and how Pokémon felt inside them also differed.

A regular Poké Ball compared to a Luxury Ball?

That was like the difference between a tiny studio apartment and a mansion.

Natsume had also been thinking about customizing Poké Balls for his Pokémon.

At first, he considered capturing a Tinkaton.

Just by name, it seemed perfect as a Poké Ball craftsman.

But then he learned that Tinkaton only cared about making its own hammer.

Plus, it had a habit of launching boulders at Corviknight just to collect their feathers for hammer-making.

Even as a Tinkatuff, it would attack groups of Bisharp to collect metal.

For the sake of his Corviknight’s well-being, Natsume decided against catching one.

“Caw?”

Somewhere, Corviknight suddenly shivered.

It felt like something sinister had its eyes on it.

This didn’t feel right.

Maybe it should ask Slowking to ward off evil spirits later.

Lately, that scholar of a Slowking had been studying exorcism techniques.

“P…Pecha?!”

Hearing Ogerpon's words, Pecharunt itself was stunned.

Huh?!

Didn’t we agree that if I handed over the mask, you’d let me go?!

Wait…

You never actually promised that?

…Okay, fair enough.

Wait, no!

There’s a problem here!

I never agreed to this!

I don’t want to be captured!

Pecharunt immediately began struggling with all its might.

Sure, it had heard many Pokémon say that getting captured by humans wasn’t a bad thing.

No need to worry about food, constant pampering, and even a personalized training plan to get stronger.

Who wouldn’t want that?!

Many Pokémon tribe leaders deliberately push their most outstanding young ones toward human Trainers, entrusting them to be trained.

To them, it’s more of an equal exchange—humans help train their successors, and in return, those successors bring honor to their Trainers.

Then, once that Trainer either passes away or retires, the now-stronger Pokémon can return to their tribe and lead the next generation forward.

It all sounds great in theory.

But Pecharunt wanted no part of it!

All it wanted was to live a carefree life in the wild jungles.

With its abilities, if it really wanted to, it could have controlled the entire forest’s Pokémon.

The only reason it hadn’t done so before was simply because it didn’t see the need—plus, it was lazy.

And even if it ever got a craving for something tasty, it could just send Okidogi and the others into human towns to find those who worshipped them and have them "borrow" some offered Pokéblocks.

There was absolutely no need to be captured by a human Trainer!

Why should it have to give up its freedom?!

Even as it was being restrained by Mega Gardevoir’s Psychic, Pecharunt struggled fiercely.

It even considered attacking Natsume.

It knew full well that most Pokémon in a Trainer’s team weren’t really that close—they only stuck together because they had the same Trainer.

If it could just succeed, it might still have a chance to escape!

As for Okidogi and the others?

Friends exist to be sacrificed, don’t they?

Everyone knows that friends are disposable resources.

And now was the perfect time to cash them in!

However, just as Pecharunt was about to make its move, its gaze unintentionally drifted toward the Mew behind Natsume.

Well, "unintentionally" wasn’t quite right.

For just a brief moment, it felt as if something was pulling its vision in that direction, as if something important was there.

And then it locked eyes with Mew’s calm, ocean-blue gaze.

Those sky-like pupils held no excess emotion—just a silent, unwavering stare.

"What do you think you’re doing?"

Mew didn’t speak, but Pecharunt could see the words in its eyes.

In that instant, Pecharunt gave up entirely.

It stopped struggling and let Natsume toss a Luxury Ball straight at its head.

The red light enveloped it instantly, pulling it in.

No resistance.

Just like that, Pecharunt was captured.

The Luxury Ball landed back in Natsume’s hand, shook once, then fell still.

Capture complete—Pecharunt was now his.

“Huh, that worked.”

“That was surprisingly easy.”

Given how Pecharunt had been acting—like it would rather die than surrender—Natsume had expected to try at least a couple more times.

He’d even considered roughing it up again if it put up too much of a fight.

After all, this guy did look like it could take a serious beating.

"Now, onto the Teal Mask."

Securing Pecharunt's Luxury Ball, Natsume turned his attention to the Ogerpon at his feet.

Cradling its three recovered masks, Ogerpon already looked pretty satisfied.

If they really couldn’t find the last one, honestly, it wouldn’t mind too much.

After all, Natsume had gifted it plenty of masks back home.

And Ogerpon loved every single one of them.

“Gardevoir?”

“Garde.”

They had a lead.

The Gardevoir silently following behind Natsume lifted its head.

It had been telepathically communicating with the wild Pokémon in the area the entire way here.

And now, it had finally gathered some clues.