Although Lucas's original plan was just to select the Applin with the "Ripen" ability and bring only those back to the farm, once he actually experienced it, he found he simply couldn't harden his heart.
For an innately timid Pokémon like Applin to choose to follow him on its own… Neither he, nor Appletun, ought to let them down after such a decision.
The "Gluttony" ability just meant it ate a bit more, while "Bulletproof" among the three evolution options was really just interchangeable with "Thick Fat", "Vital Spirit," or "Sticky Hold".
After a moment's thought, Lucas decided to pack everyone up and bring them all back to the farm.
Fortunately, he'd prepared enough Poké Balls. Soon, fourteen Poké Balls—each decorated with a little grass sticker—had found their rightful owner.
Come to think of it, Applin was now the most populous Pokémon species on his farm. Until now, that record had been held by the Miltank.
Even with that "gift" from those yellow-haired Tauros—the eleven Pokémon Eggs in total—the eggs wouldn't all hatch into Miltank; some would inevitably be Tauros.
So the Applin now outnumbered them for sure.
After capturing them, Lucas released the Applin again, letting them move about freely.
It was peaceful enough here. He planned to set up camp and spend the night, then head for Zapapico in the morning.
Incidentally, he could visit Hanzawa, who had moved here from Johto and was now running "Miltank's Home".
As for the Miltank eggs he'd gotten, Lucas was sure Hanzawa would have some unique insight. While at it, he could also discuss another matter with him—see if he'd like to witness it himself.
…
The next morning, October 25th.
With a little help from Tinkatuff and the others, Lucas packed up camp and cleaned away all the trash. With his pack on his back, he opted to walk to Zapapico instead of riding Dragonite.
Zapapico wasn't far from North Area 2. Heading east through East Area 3, there was no need to cross any bare rocky mountains. After a short walk, he'd reach the mining zone.
By catching a ride with miners returning home for lunch, he could arrive by noon.
Having lived in Zapapico before, Lucas was more than familiar with this area and its shortcuts. He'd often come over these rocky mountains with his Luxio and Snivy to the resource-rich North Area 2, scrounging a little extra for himself thanks to his knowledge.
Time flew by, and before he knew it, it was noon.
Through sheer eloquence, Lucas managed a free ride back to Zapapico—though, in reality, his "carpool" was an excavator.
The roar of the engine faded as Zapapico's outline came into view.
Unless there was construction work, excavators weren't usually allowed inside town, so this "carpool" dropped him outside.
"Thanks for the ride, brother," Lucas said politely, climbing down from the passenger side.
The middle-aged man, around forty or fifty, didn't mind Lucas calling him brother. In fact, he seemed vaguely pleased. Who didn't like feeling younger for a moment? Especially when someone called you "brother"; it was like you'd shed twenty years on the spot.
That sweet talk had gotten Lucas the ride.
"No problem, it was on my way," the man replied, squeezing out a smile and expertly fishing out a cigarette. His lighter clicked, and a wisp of smoke spiraled upward.
Taking a drag seemed to ease his stress.
But as his gaze met Lucas's bright black eyes, he seemed to remember something, coughed, quickly exhaled the smoke away from him, and stomped out the cigarette.
"Almost forgot—you young folks hate cigarette smoke," he said sheepishly.
Lucas kept silent, but honestly, he had no intention of trying that stuff himself.
"Just take it from me—don't pick up this habit. It's only for relieving stress, but you don't need to follow my example."
Sniffing his collar, the man seemed worried the smell would linger, then waved his hand, adding, "You're here to visit Miltank's Home? Around noon it's always packed, so best to hurry."
"Prices have gone up lately for his Moomoo Milk, but with good quality, word spreads fast, and there are more customers than ever."
"Got it. Thanks for the tip."
Lucas accepted his advice, waved goodbye, and headed into town.
At the "Miltank's Home" ranch, as expected, a long queue had formed.
Probably because Hanzawa liked to sleep in; he only started selling the daily fresh Moomoo Milk around noon. His reputation was good, buyers had time, and lining up was inevitable.
Lucas quietly joined the end of the line. Among the crowd were workers still wearing their mining hats—obviously just off a shift.
But the old discount for miners seemed to be gone now.
To be honest, Lucas envied Hanzawa's lifestyle a bit. Sleeping in every day, letting the Miltank graze at their own pace, with only a bit of work in the afternoon, and earning a nice income thanks to reliable Moomoo Milk...
Ugh, the more he thought about it, the more he thought this was the perfect laid-back life.
Despite the long line, everyone was orderly. You'd get your milk, pay, and leave—no cutting, and everything was well managed.
It took less than ten minutes for Lucas to reach the front.
Stepping up, he said, "One bottle of room-temperature Moomoo Milk, please."
"Sure, 600 PokéDollars."
Just as Hanzawa was busy keeping accounts, he noticed the Miltank assistant hadn't moved, and as he looked up to remind her, their eyes met.
"Lucas!?"
Surprised joy filled his voice.
"Haven't seen you in months, huh?" Lucas smiled. "But you've got customers—let's catch up later."
Recognizing him, Lucas took the bottle offered by Hanzawa's Miltank and stepped aside to taste it.
Taking a small sip, he let out the rest of his team—Dragonite and all—to try too, so they could experience the difference between Paldea-produced and this "Johto-flavored" Moomoo Milk.
After all, Hanzawa had imported entire batches of Johto soil and grass for his farm. Even here in a foreign land, he made sure his Pokémon walked on native ground.
Once Hanzawa finished up and greeted him, only Ceruledge and Charcadet remained at Lucas's side—the others were resting in their Poké Balls.
"Sorry to keep you waiting."
"Milu～"
Both Hanzawa and his Miltank said it in perfect unison.
Lucas didn't mind. Pointing to a few tables nearby, he asked, "Need any help?"
"If you don't mind, I'll treat you to some Johto specialties later," Hanzawa replied, quick to accept and remembering to offer a bonus.
Lucas went over, lifted a table, and suggested, "Can we skip sashimi sushi or cold bento? Not a fan."
"Of course, I've a weak stomach—usually only eat hot food."
"Yan bu～"
Inside, a massive, pig-like Pokémon with a burning neck-flame was toiling amid the heat.
This was Emboar, Unova's Fire-type starter's final form.
Even more surprising, this Emboar wore a pristine chef's hat, serving as head chef and preparing several Johto specialty hot dishes.
Miltank was beside him in an apron, acting as sous chef.
It was… an odd sight.
Hanzawa handed Lucas a cup of hot cocoa mixed with cocoa powder. As the weather cooled, it was enough to warm him to his core.
With Hanzawa's permission, all the Pokémon—Ogerpon, Tinkatuff, Appletun, Comfey, Dragonite, and the Applin—ran off to play in the vast Miltank's Home pastures.
At Lucas's side, aside from the plush Charcadet, only Ceruledge remained, staring intently at Emboar in the kitchen.
Ceruledge wasn't concerned by Emboar's strength, but as a fellow Fire-type Pokémon and cook, the threat Emboar posed was real.
Ceruledge's ghostly power only allowed it to manipulate skewers and seasoning telekinetically; Emboar was a master of stir-frying, deep-frying, simmering, grilling, and could even adjust its flame—truly an all-around chef.
This was a crisis!
Objectively, Ceruledge shouldn't worry so much; Emboar was "just" Hanzawa's chef.
But trouble began when Hanzawa explained that Emboar wasn't even his Pokémon—but a professional chef he'd hired!
Not only could Emboar cook regional dishes, Hanzawa claimed his skills were outstanding—raising Lucas's expectations.
What's worse, Hanzawa casually mentioned: if Lucas ever needed, he could introduce him to a Pokémon chef—be it a Delphox specializing in food presentation, an Incineroar expert in meat-based dishes, or an all-rounder like Emboar.
To Ceruledge, lurking nearby, it was like a bombshell: its real rival wasn't Iron Valiant, but Emboar itself—and maybe this so-called "New West Pokémon Culinary School"!
After the meal...
Ceruledge had to admit: Emboar was truly skilled.
But at least, when it came to barbecue, Ceruledge felt confident it would never lose.
Luckily, during the chat, neither Lucas nor Hanzawa brought up the Pokémon chef school, and Ceruledge managed to relax.
Settled again, it went out to the pasture and practiced its sword forms, calming itself for the battle to come.
Inside, Lucas, holding the self-heating Charcadet, watched TV with Hanzawa and chatted.
When Hanzawa asked if visiting was all he had in mind, Lucas knew the real moment had come.
"Remember what I contacted you about before?"
Hanzawa, cracking peanuts, froze for a moment, crushing shell and nut together in his palm.
"You mean the hero?"
His look was both eager and hesitant.
He feared that the "hero" Lucas mentioned wasn't the one he so desperately chased.
"Yes, though I can't promise it's the one you're looking for." Lucas explained how, in previous encounters, he'd missed the chance to bring a camera, so he'd never followed up, but by Hanzawa's description, the details matched.
"So you're here to…" Hanzawa trailed off, guessing Lucas's intention.
"One's related to that hero, and another concerns my farm," Lucas nodded.
He first mentioned how his five Miltank unexpectedly produced eleven Pokémon Eggs—a situation needing Hanzawa's expertise.
Then he explained the arrangement between Iron Valiant and Ceruledge: their duel, its background, and why it would take place at the peak outside Zapapico's mines.
Hanzawa, unfamiliar with "Paradox Pokémon", needed a brief lesson.
As they finished, the cocoa had gone cold.
Hanzawa sat stunned, seemingly recalling something, muttering, "No wonder I could never find a trace—it's a 'Paradox form'...?"
Hanzawa had once suspected his rescuer might have been a Gallade. But after seeing one in person, he'd seen the differences. Gallade is a knight; the hero he sought was more dancer than swordsman, with a grace more like Gardevoir.
A Paradox Pokémon merging both qualities? Suddenly, everything made sense.
"Thank you for bringing me this news…"
Hanzawa squeezed Lucas's hand, eyes full of gratitude.
"We've got all afternoon to talk about the eggs. But… can you take me along to watch the match tonight?"
…