Pokémon: Farm Story

·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 inevitable that one or more factions will form, competing for resources.

This is especially true for stray Pokémon in the city.

They usually have their own organizations—perhaps not large, but certainly hierarchical.

Purrloin was once part of such a small group.

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

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

It’s just that all the good spots where kind-hearted humans would feed Pokémon were already claimed by others.

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

So, Purrloin usually wandered the city’s outskirts—old neighborhoods, small villages near the urban fringes, places like that.

There, it would occasionally come across kind-hearted humans who would offer some food.

Being cute definitely had its perks.

And Purrloin had great confidence in its ability to act adorable.

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

But whatever food it managed to scavenge from humans or elsewhere, it never ate alone—it had to bring it back to their group’s gathering place.

There, a powerful Gloom would distribute the food.

That was just how it worked for weak Pokémon.

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."

"Endure it. Just a bit more."

After all, this was at least a way to survive. If it left, it would just become 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 networks, full of manipulation and backstabbing.

It was exhausting.

Sometimes, Purrloin would sit idly on the windowsill of an abandoned warehouse, staring blankly 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 next meal being stolen.

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

All they had to do was train under their trainer’s guidance and grow stronger. Nothing else.

What a nice life that must be.

According to rumors, one Pokémon in their little group had once belonged to a trainer.

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

It hadn’t gone well.

Supposedly, it even injured its 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 considered 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 understand 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 what Purrloin 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 observing.

Then, one day, Purrloin overheard something interesting.

It had learned about a farm.

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

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

Word was that the farm’s owner was strong and kind-hearted.

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 no need to worry about safety.

And the farm owner didn’t force Pokémon 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 questionable—outright impossible.

Some Pokémon even spread tales about a lone stray possessing a legendary artifact.

Seriously?

Not a chance.

Purrloin dismissed it as just another exaggerated rumor.

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

Where to beg without getting beaten up.

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

More and more Pokémon left for it—some never returned.

And those that did come back?

They scoffed, calling it all lies. Fake.

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

Slowly, Purrloin started to waver.

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

A future so predictable it was suffocating.

So one night, it made up its mind.

It was going to find that farm.

"Meow?"

Is the farm far?

Purrloin hesitantly 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 wanted to try.

Better to take a chance than waste away in this place.

That night, Purrloin packed its things.

A shabby bag filled with a bit of food.

The last of its personal stash.

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

They tasted awful and burned its 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, Purrloin set off on its journey.

Honestly? It regretted it almost immediately.

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

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

If it stayed, it would regret never having ventured 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 continued on its journey.

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

From then on, it had to forage for food as it traveled.

Looking back now, Purrloin didn’t even want to recall everything it had gone through.

Suffice it to say, stepping out of its comfort zone and getting beaten down by reality was inevitable.

The accumulated stress and tension from the journey erupted the moment it caught sight of Natsume’s farm.

Overcome with excitement, Purrloin dramatically fainted.

When it regained consciousness, it found itself being watched.

And that, in a nutshell, was Purrloin's story.

Of course, certain details had been embellished, and some things had been conveniently left out.

Not that it was a bad thing—it was just that some parts of its past weren’t exactly something it wanted others to know.@@novelbin@@

Kind of like how no one wants to recall that phase in middle school where they clutched a utility knife, imagined themselves as an elite assassin, and seriously considered taking out the teacher who kept holding the class 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, recently, quite a few Pokémon had come to the farm seeking refuge.

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

The kinder ones, Natsume allowed to stay.

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

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

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.

"Come on, let’s have a one-on-one match. Let’s see what’s tougher—your skull or my fist."

Lately, Natsume had encountered all sorts of Pokémon.

Ordinary ones, eccentric ones, kind ones, and even outright malicious ones.

But one like Purrloin? This was a first.

A Pokémon that had actually starved itself into unconsciousness.

Emmmm...

Hard to judge.

In a way, that was kind of impressive.

"Ugh..."

Turning its head away, Purrloin was mortified.

It didn’t want to face Natsume.

"Alright, alright, it’s fine."

Seeing Purrloin's reaction, 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 understood, of someone finally acknowledging what it had been struggling with alone—it was overwhelming.

Its nose twitched slightly, and it rubbed its little face, doing its best to maintain its usual blank expression.

Crying in front of someone it had just met was way too embarrassing.

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

A beautiful young lady must not shed tears so easily!

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

At that moment, Emolga happened to 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 suspicion.

Why did this one feel... familiar?

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

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

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

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

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

This guy… wasn’t simple.

Purrloin, on the other 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 harboring 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 racing through its mind, it recognized the strategy at play—arriving in a new environment, immediately displaying goodwill, and showing that you’re harmless.

This was a move Emolga was all too familiar with.

It was one it 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 completely 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 mean one thing—some tyrant was enforcing an iron-fisted rule, forcing everyone to maintain that facade.

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

Conflicts between Pokémon were generally handled internally.

A system was already in place.

The cold and intimidating Persian played the enforcer.

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

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

Ah, all strict enforcers, huh?

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

Jokes aside, things rarely escalated that far.

With Slowking’s intellect, resolving disputes was practically 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 mentioned that in the future, the farm’s daily operations would likely be entrusted to them.

The male Indeedee would handle farm management.

The female one would oversee daily affairs.

These were originally Lopunny’s responsibilities, but there was no conflict in their duties.

Lopunny had never particularly cared about anyone other than Natsume and Cinccino.

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 second 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 glanced at the female Indeedee in confusion.

"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 enter the world—the energy was overwhelmingly strong in its perception.