Hiyori Town Farm – The Medicinal Field
"Ya mi~"
After half a month of careful tending, supplemented by Lilligant's faithful [Grassy Terrain] , the medicinal herb field had finally reached full maturity.
Morning sunlight bathed the healing herbs and bug-repelling herbs in a vibrant emerald glow. Each leaf seemed to drink the light, transforming it into deeper, richer green.
"Sha~"
Beside him, Gardevoir already held her Psychic sword—a blade of shimmering energy ready for harvest. The others waited for instruction.
Unlike mushrooms, herbs demanded specific techniques. Tall healing herbs required only their side leaves trimmed; with care, they'd regrow. Shorter bug-repelling herbs needed full uprooting, then replanting.
Under Wade's guidance, each Pokémon set to work in their own way.
As for Little Milcery? She'd vanished toward the forest clearing again—off to tend her beloved mushrooms. Every time she returned, her face shone with secret joy. But whenever Wade asked what she was plotting, she'd blush furiously and duck her head, revealing nothing.
What is that little one hiding?
"Alright—bring me everything you've harvested."
Wade straightened, surveying his workers. Piles of fragrant herbs surrounded them.
The healing herb leaves needed air-drying under the sun. The uprooted bug-repelling herbs required cool, ventilated storage until Uncle Yoshino arrived that evening.
He spread the green leaves across large mesh trays, arranging them in the scorching sunlight like charcoal ready for firing. Then he carried the bug-repelling herbs into the cabin's cool interior.
Harvest complete.
"Nai~!"
Little Milcery materialized at his feet, still radiating that inexplicable joy. Whatever secret project consumed her thoughts, it clearly made her happy.
Hiyori Town Pier
With herbs secured, Wade's attention shifted. The raw milk processing equipment had arrived.
"Lopunny—you all stay here. Gardevoir and I will handle this."
"Churu ru~"
A flash of psychic light, and they stood at the pier.
Dawn painted the horizon in pale gold. The salty sea breeze carried rhythmic waves from Cutpeak Sea, mixing with the cries of distant Wingull. The pier bustled with activity—workers weaving through container stacks like building blocks, sailors hauling berry sacks or guiding Rhydon-pulled trailers. Ships from distant regions docked one after another, their anchor roars startling flocks of Pidgey into sweeping silver arcs across the lightening sky.
And there—waiting patiently—stood Olivia.
"President Wade. Good morning~"
She'd changed since their last meeting. No square glasses framed her emerald eyes, which now shone with their own light. A simple white top contained her ample softness beneath thick fabric. Dark blue trousers flowed from her flat, smooth abdomen to her ankles, covering those long, fair legs.
"Good morning, Olivia."
Their phone conversations since the cave expedition had built genuine rapport. Her smile was warm, familiar.
But business came first.
"President, I've arranged a moving team. The equipment should be in the factory by now, ready for installation."
Her efficiency impressed him. Since transitioning from researcher to executive, this blonde older sister had embraced her role fully. Her inherent competence shone through every arrangement.
Though currently, Hiyori Industrial Company consists of exactly two people.
When he'd asked her to register the business, he'd briefly considered naming it after himself. Too embarrassing. Instead, he'd borrowed from his hometown—Hiyori Town. Simple. Honest. Right.
"Oh—and this requires your review."
Olivia extended a thick stack of bound papers.
Wade blinked. "This is..."
"Hiyori Industrial Company's future development plan."
Her voice was soft, but pride flickered behind it. Old habits from her researcher days—scientific principles, thorough investigation—had guided her. Rather than wait idle, she'd spent countless hours online, surveying markets, analyzing competitors, synthesizing data. The result filled these pages.
No wonder her dark circles seemed heavier today.
"You've worked so hard, Olivia." He flipped through the document. Departmental structure. Personnel training systems. Product supply chains. Brand strategy. Everything. Everything.
Wade smiled.
The future largest conglomerate in the Galar region... the early signs are already here.
"No problem at all. You wrote it beautifully."
Wade closed the thick proposal and nodded with genuine approval.
"Follow your vision. Don't worry about funding—I'll handle that."
"Eh?!"
Olivia's emerald eyes widened. This was... unexpected.
"President... don't I need some kind of assessment? A trial period? Something?"
Unlike any company she'd encountered, this black-haired youth had given her nothing but affirmation since day one. No difficult tasks. No tests of loyalty. Just... trust. Like a mentor guiding a favored student.
Could she really handle such responsibility? And more concerning—wasn't he afraid she'd simply disappear with the funds?
Wade caught her expression and smiled. He reached out and patted her head gently.
"Your business abilities don't concern me. And I don't doubt your loyalty for a second."
His voice was calm, certain.
"Hiyori Industrial Company belongs to both of us. Pursue your ambitions boldly. If you encounter something you can't handle—leave it to me."
It wasn't empty praise. Olivia's track record spoke for itself—controlling the Macro Cosmos empire in another timeline, crafting this detailed, flexible business plan in mere nights. She had talent in abundance.
And right now, with raw materials secured, equipment arriving, and venues prepared, the real work was just beginning. Employee recruitment. Sales channels. League approvals. He couldn't do it all himself.
Delegating to Olivia served two purposes: honing her abilities and preserving his own sanity.
Besides, he believed in a simple principle: trust those you employ; if you can't trust them, don't employ them.
Wasting talent through suspicion and restriction? That wasn't how a qualified entrepreneur—or a Transmigrator—operated.
His role would be behind the scenes. Direction-setter. Problem-solver. Let the blonde older sister handle the rest.
Olivia stood frozen, still processing his words.
Recognized at first meeting. Offered a position on the spot. Business plan approved without revision. Trusted unconditionally—given nearly total authority.
Though younger than her, he radiated a calm, mature confidence she'd rarely encountered.
Could it be... he has ulterior motives?
She glanced down at herself. The loose clothing hid it well, but beneath lay substantial assets—plush curves, ample hips, a figure that drew attention whether she wanted it or not.
But when she met his gaze—intense, yet utterly trusting—something shifted.
Ulterior motives or not... I don't actually mind.
She drew a quiet breath.
"Understood, President." Her voice firmed. "I'll work hard. I won't let you down."
Whether he valued her abilities or her body, overthinking wouldn't help. Results mattered most. She'd prove his faith wasn't misplaced.
"Good. We'll post recruitment announcements soon. Then I'll accompany you to meet those retailers—open up sales channels."
He paused, studying her thoughtfully.
Delicate, cool features. A curvaceous figure. A naturally beautiful woman—dressed in plain, forgettable clothes.
That won't do.
Whether as company executive or personal secretary, her appearance deserved better.
"Before that—we're getting you new clothes."
"Eh?!"
Hiyori Town – Boutique Clothing Store
"Madam... this outfit suits you perfectly~"
The sales assistant forgot to breathe.
She'd worked here years. She'd seen countless beautiful women try on countless beautiful clothes.
None compared to this.
Olivia stood before the mirror, transformed.
An off-white coat draped elegantly over her shoulders. Beneath, a form-fitting bright red knitted shirt hugged every voluptuous curve—ample chest, slender waist, the promise of generous hips below. Black high-waisted skinny pants flowed downward, showcasing long, slender legs that seemed to go on forever.
Gone was the loose, forgettable researcher. Gone were the ordinary clothes of this morning.
In their place stood a woman who commanded attention. Aloof. Elegant. The kind of beauty best admired from afar—because up close, she might just steal your breath entirely.
"Pre... President?" Olivia's voice held a rare uncertainty. "What do you think?"
She turned slightly, watching him in the mirror's reflection.
Wade smiled.
"Perfect. You look like a female CEO—mature, capable, unstoppable."
Her cheeks warmed at the praise.
But deeper than that, something else stirred.
He sees me.
Not just as a researcher. Not just as a secretary.
As her.
"Shana~"
Beside them, the cool Ms. Gardevoir nodded in quiet agreement.
After selecting the professional work attire, the next order of business was naturally...
"Pre... President... aren't these a bit too..."
Olivia's voice faltered. The calm, capable demeanor she'd maintained all morning evaporated as she stared at the display before her. A deep blush crept across her fair, tender face.
Wade tilted his head, expression perfectly innocent.
"Not at all. These are just ordinary secretary outfits."
Ordinary.
Olivia trembled as she reached for the first one.
A long black dress draped from shoulders to ankles—conservative from the front, with a high waist that concealed her rounded hips and fair legs. From the front, it looked almost modest.
But the back?
The back was gone. Deliberately cut away, replaced by crisscrossing ribbons that framed her graceful waist and hip curves. A dress designed for socialites. For galas. For attention.
"Well," Wade said smoothly, "there may be formal banquets in your future. Many fashionable, beautiful women in attendance..."
He paused meaningfully.
"As my secretary, you cannot let the President lose face."
"..."
Olivia swallowed. She couldn't argue.
Taking a steadying breath, she reached for the next outfit. This one was—surely—too intimate to justify.
Surely.
Black high-waisted shorts that barely grazed her full, perky derriere. They exposed the lower half of her thighs completely, leaving her slender calves bare. The top was off-white, featuring a daring chest cut-out—only two white satin ribbons covering her front. If her icy-white bosom were any fuller, nothing would be left to the imagination.
Wade's expression remained calm. His gaze, however, was thorough.
"Secretary work involves many miscellaneous tasks. Showing a bit of skin helps with sweat."
Sweat?
"Olivia." His voice dropped meaningfully. "You wouldn't want to emit an... unpleasant odor in front of the President, would you?"
"N-no, Mr. President."
Under his unassailable logic, she could only surrender.
Third time's the charm.
Olivia rallied her courage and lifted a Gothic maid outfit—knee-length, with dark red lace trimming sleeves and hem. Modest. Practical. Surely this time she could win.
Wade raised one eyebrow.
"It's perfectly normal for a secretary to wear a maid outfit while serving tea, isn't it?"
"..."
The 'SS Olivia' sank before it could leave port.
She tried again. And again. Each time, Wade met her protests with seemingly absurd but—upon reflection—technically reasonable excuses. Her earlier clear eyes grew misty with overwhelmed embarrassment.
It's true. He's definitely interested in my body. Wuwuwu...
Seeing her utterly defeated, Wade—generous President that he was—simply waved at the staff.
"Pack everything."
On work matters, he could delegate.
On this matter, his word was final.
The Fitting Room
"Here you go." Wade handed her the neatly packaged bags with obvious satisfaction. "Mix and match them. Wear them for me to see sometime."
Olivia's ripe-red face somehow deepened further. But she nodded.
"Understood, President~"
She couldn't deny it—these clothes would make her look more charming. More beautiful. As a woman, she had little resistance to that, embarrassing as it was.
Besides...
A quiet thought surfaced.
When there are no outsiders around... wearing them just for the President is fine, isn't it?
After all, satisfying the President was also a secretary's duty.
Meanwhile – Hiyori Town Electronics Store
While Olivia shopped for... intimate essentials... Wade browsed elsewhere.
The cave treasures had left him with comfortable funds. After some consideration, he selected two items:
A television—to enrich farm leisure life, providing entertainment for himself and the Pokémon Girls during quiet evenings.
A visual communicator—functionally similar to his past life's smartphone. Internet access. League Trainer forums. Visual calls. This would make coordinating with Olivia and future partners infinitely easier.
Practical investments, he reflected. And well-deserved after that cave expedition.
"Shall we?" He glanced at Gardevoir, packages in hand.
"Sha~"
Wade had just finished installing the chat software on his new communicator when Tinkaton tugged gently at his sleeve.
"Blurp~"
He followed her gaze.
Across the street, an ice cream stand glowed like a beacon. Even from this distance, the mingled aromas of vanilla, chocolate, and fresh berries drifted toward them—sweet, creamy, utterly irresistible.
"You want one?"
"Blurp! Blurp~!"
Tinkaton nodded so eagerly her twin tails bounced. Her beautiful amber eyes shimmered with anticipation.
Wade smiled and ruffled her head.
"Alright, let's get in line."
Late autumn or not, the temperature still hovered above twenty degrees. No wonder the little one craved something cold.
As they joined the queue, another thought struck him.
Sugar. Farm-fresh Miltank milk. Little Milcery's fresh cream...
I could make my own ice cream.
The idea bloomed—cool, delicious, profitable.
The Ice Cream Stand
A woman in black stood before the freezer, bent slightly as she examined the displayed flavors.
She'd been there a while.
Quite a while.
The farm owner behind the counter watched her with growing desperation. She'd sampled descriptions of every flavor. Asked about ingredients. Inquired about seasonal specials. Then started over.
"Ma'am..." His voice trembled. "Perhaps you'd like... one of each?"
"But then I wouldn't finish them~"
The blonde older sister in black shook her head gently, genuinely concerned about waste. She didn't have a Snorlax to handle leftovers.
Think, Cynthia. Think.
"Hey—Garchomp! Want one?"
"Gar... chomp?"
Her partner's jet-shaped head tilted so hard it nearly fell off. A massive question mark materialized above it.
Me?
Eat ice cream?
The Dragon-type with a four-times weakness to Ice?
That was like pouring water directly into an Onix! What had she been feeding that brilliant mind of hers?!
Wade, now close enough to observe the scene, suppressed a laugh.
The Champion of Sinnoh. The most powerful Trainer in the region. The woman whose very presence commanded respect and fear.
Struggling to choose an ice cream flavor.
For nearly an hour.
"If it's your first time trying Hiyori Town ice cream," he offered gently, "I'd recommend the vanilla chocolate swirl."
The conflicted blonde paused. Her eyes lit up.
"Really?"
She turned to the farmer, relief flooding her elegant features.
"Then I'll have a vanilla chocolate swirl, please~"
The farmer behind the counter nearly wept with gratitude. He assembled the cone with Extreme Speed and handed it over like a lifeline.
"Here you are! Please come again!"
His smile was that of a man who had stared into the abyss and somehow returned.
Wade understood completely. That imposing aura—the natural gravity of a Champion—combined with an hour of indecisive hovering? Other customers had likely assumed something was wrong with the products and fled.
If the blonde had lingered another ten minutes, that farmer might have collapsed entirely.
A gentle lick.
"Mmm~"
The blonde's beautiful eyelashes fluttered. A small, satisfied smile curved her lips.
She turned, brushing a strand of golden hair behind her ear.
"My name is Cynthia." Her eyes sparkled with genuine warmth. "And thank you—for the excellent suggestion."