Pokémon: Farm Story

"Yimo."

Inside its new home, Emolga curiously inspected the space where it would be living from now on.

Unlike the more people-friendly Emolga, Galvantula's family preferred the outdoors. After all, the nature of spiders meant they weren't particularly fond of staying too close to humans.

Downstairs, the two Joltik were feasting voraciously on electricity. Having gone so long without such indulgence, they were now practically glued to the power outlets, impossible to pull away.

It was safe to predict that Natsume's electricity bill was about to skyrocket.

But, it was all worth it!

Maybe it was the blessing of the Alpaca Pokémon, but in just over a month, Natsume had managed to catch three shiny Pokémon.

And all of them had stunning color schemes.

The pink-and-white Furret, which always reminded Natsume of a certain interstellar diva.

The golden Pidgeotto, whose brassy plumage gave Natsume ideas about training it to deliver sarcastic quips from streetlamps.

And the red Charjabug.

To most, this might not seem impressive. But its final evolution into the shiny Vikavolt—sleek silver with fluorescent green patterns—looked like a machine straight out of a futuristic war movie.

In short, the evolution was destined to be incredibly cool. Far cooler than the green Machamp models Natsume used to see in his classmate's fashion magazines.

Even among shinies, there were levels to this.

"Yimo!"

Emolga raised its paw in a polite greeting as the surrounding Pokémon gathered around to observe the newcomer.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Emolga, the new arrival. Please take care of me."

The little flying squirrel Pokémon struck a well-mannered pose, as if it were a diligent student on its first day of school.

Emolga understood the importance of making a good first impression. Its priority was to establish friendly relationships and understand the dynamics of its new home.

By figuring out the hierarchy and pecking order, it could avoid missteps and even gain support for any future endeavors.

If worst came to worst, it could always play the cute card—acting pitiful, flashing its big eyes, and calling everyone "big brother" while tugging at their heartstrings.

Yes, Emolga was very confident in its charm.

It silently praised its own cleverness.

But...

Stare—

Minccino was glaring at Emolga, a cleaning cloth still in its paws.

The intense gaze made Emolga break into a nervous sweat.

What's going on?

Did I do something wrong?

Or is this just not how greetings work here?

"Mi!"

After scrutinizing Emolga for a while, Minccino nodded with satisfaction.

"Seems like a clean kid. That's good. Very good."

Giving Emolga a reassuring pat on the shoulder, Minccino resumed cleaning. Lately, the household's chaos had increased Minccino's workload exponentially.

In retaliation, the younger Pokémon led by Togepi had all found themselves pinned to the floor by Minccino at least once.

It wasn't about strength—just sheer authoritative pressure.

"San!"

Sandslash returned to grab an pokéblock for lunch. Giving Emolga a casual pat, it offered a few encouraging words.

"Work hard, little one. I'm heading out."

Carrying its meal, Sandslash left to tend to its crops, clearly more invested in its fields than in the new arrival.

"Tokii."

Togepi mimicked Sandslash's actions, patting Emolga on the shoulder as well.

Keep it up; I believe in you.

"Toki-toki."

Work hard, that's advice from your senior.

Though it had only hatched recently, Togepi insisted on playing the role of a mature mentor, much like a high schooler pondering how to save the world.

"Furr."

Following Togepi, the shiny Furret gave Emolga a quick pat but said nothing.

"Hmph, I admit you're cute. But cute Pokémon only slow me down!"

Determined, Furret bolted out of the house.

It had decided—today, it would run fifteen laps around the farm.

If it couldn't finish, it would do fifty sprints instead.

This was a training method it had learned from watching anime.

Squeak!

"My youth will never fade!"

"Caw!"

Descending from the second floor, Corvisquire fixed Emolga with a sharp gaze.

"Hmph. A mere nobody. Shall I—"

Before it could finish its arrogant monologue, Persian kicked it aside, cutting the drama short.

"You're using the wrong idiom, idiot."

Acknowledging Emolga with a slight nod, Persian dragged Corvisquire into a corner, ready to discipline the TV-obsessed troublemaker.

"...Yimo?"

Standing frozen in place, Emolga felt its brain short-circuiting.

Why does everyone here seem so weird?

The only seemingly normal one had been the Butterfree it met earlier.

Turning to the Hisuian Zorua that had been quietly observing from the side, Emolga looked for some explanation—or maybe just some comfort.

But the moment Zorua noticed Emolga's gaze, it darted into the adjacent room through the wall.

Now, only Zorua's Unovan counterpart remained, leisurely swishing its tail.

As for Lopunny?

It had gone with Natsume to move some supplies.

Though, truth be told, Zorua doubted Natsume needed any help from a Pokémon.

In Zorua's experience, there wasn't a human stronger than Natsume.

Even martial artists wouldn't stand a chance.

Sure, "using force to overcome technique" might sound crude, but it worked.

And with Natsume's ability to tank even Hyper Beam hits to the face, finesse wasn't exactly a priority.

Most problems could be solved by charging straight through them.

"Hehe."

Seeing Emolga's bewildered expression, Zorua let out a mischievous laugh.

Hearing the chuckle, Emolga snapped out of its daze and turned to Zorua, its cheeks puffed in annoyance.

"Yimo! Yimo!"

For some reason, Emolga felt it shared certain traits with this black-furred fox.

They locked eyes—it was the look of two Pokémon who knew how to vie for attention.

Faced with the agitated Emolga, Zorua tilted its head thoughtfully.

Stretching lazily, Zorua leapt into the air.

As its body twisted mid-flight, it transformed into... an identical Emolga.

"Yimo!"

Shock!

The sudden appearance of "another Emolga" startled the original.

Circling the doppelgänger, Emolga inspected it closely.

After a thorough examination, it reached a conclusion—this copy was identical in every way.

"Yimo..."

Pinching the fake Emolga's cheek, the real one was utterly flabbergasted.

Meanwhile, Natsume, in another part of the house, was having his own share of shocking experiences.

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