Chapter 39: Welcoming Tomorrow

"Don't panic! Stay calm!"

Baimu shouted, his gaze fixed on the snarling Houndoom and Ursaring ahead.

A closer look revealed that these two Pokémon had almost no reason left, completely consumed by their own bestial instincts and baseless viciousness.

Kenji most likely knew this, which was why he had kept silent from the start.

At this moment.

The two Pokémon were slowly closing in, their eyes locked dead on the growling, threatening Aron, searching for an easy spot to tear it to shreds.

The reason they were focusing their fire was simply that, subconsciously, they found Aron more threatening; Chansey, who hadn't released any moves, and Baimu, who was just shouting, were too weak and could be set aside for now.

…Perhaps he could use that.

Baimu leaned his back against the solid rock wall, and the agitation in his heart gradually subsided.

Without question, in purely physical terms, he and his Pokémon had lost their retreat; the opponents drew closer and closer, the gap shrinking to three meters—practically within arm's reach.

This certainly raised the hit rate of moves, but it also lowered the odds of successfully unleashing them.

If he couldn't find an opening, he'd make one himself!

"Rock Tomb!"

The opponents' sense of pain was drastically dulled, as if they'd grown a second health bar; they would tank the move head-on just to come in and land a punch or a claw. What normal Pokémon could withstand that?

Not to mention Aron, serving as both meat shield and main damage dealer, had to fight one against two—prolonged brawling was extremely unfavorable to it.

The instant he called out, Houndoom and Ursaring moved in unison!

Boom!

But Aron, already prepared, was faster. Its claws slammed the ground, and countless jagged stones burst from the earth, mixed with fresh soil and dust, cascading down on Houndoom and Ursaring like a torrential downpour.

At first glance, this Rock Tomb looked like a towering wall of dark earth, enough to chill anyone who saw it.

Yet Ursaring and Houndoom acted as if they hadn't seen it, plunging forward without hesitation, their bodies carving a path as they slammed fiercely into the rocks.

The former didn't even bother using its signature move, Block.

Bam bam bam bam!

A string of dull thuds; a flickering dark light flared, shattering the rocks into countless pebbles and dust, instantly swallowing up the entire surrounding area.

The flying debris made Chansey wince in pain, but more than the physical hurt, it cared about why it hadn't received an order from Baimu—even though he was right behind it, it couldn't help feeling uneasy.

It didn't know whether it should use Heal Pulse on Aron.

Just then.

A tall figure had already burst through the wall of rock and sand, swinging a powerful arm down at Aron!

Then.

Another figure lunged out, also targeting Aron!

Bam!

"Guh!"

Aron let out a muffled grunt, pinned to the ground by the two Pokémon, struggling as it took a savage beating of fists, kicks, biting, and claw-rending.

The latter two's vicious eyes glowed with a blood-colored gleam through the murky dust—genuinely unsettling.

But in a spot they failed to notice, two figures had quietly slipped away.

"Now! Sing! Aron, Dig down!"

Baimu shouted, having found his escape route.

Chansey anxiously watched Aron being pummeled by Ursaring and Houndoom, wanting to wait for it to Dig down first, but the latter seemed somewhat dazed and failed to react in time.

He couldn't wait any longer!

It raised its two small hands, tilted its head back, and began to sing.

"Laa~ lalala~ lalali~ lalalila~"

Pink light waves and colorful notes spread outward, causing Houndoom and Ursaring to whip their heads around abruptly.

The gaze full of fury made Chansey's blood run cold, but it didn't stop singing; on the contrary, it amplified its voice, as if trying to bolster its own courage.

Not far away.

Kenji's face flickered when he heard the singing. The guy who'd sold him the drugs had said that after taking them, one's spirit would be highly stimulated, and resistance in all aspects would increase.

But he couldn't be sure whether the sleep state brought on by Sing was included in that.

After all, how could Baimu's two Pokémon be this tenacious? If Aron being tough was one thing, Chansey was disgustingly annoying—added together, they'd somehow held on until now.

At this thought, Kenji's expression grew even uglier, and a sudden premonition of ill omen rose in his heart.

As if to confirm his guess, when the dust and smoke covering the area cleared, revealing the positions of Houndoom and the others, those three swaying figures became painfully obvious.

Thud thud thud!

Three dull thuds of collapse in a row.

"Shit!"

Kenji's eyes went wide, and he turned and ran without a second thought.

What you fear most comes to pass—Sing scored a direct "triple kill," not even sparing Aron, which should have Dug down. But Baimu still had Chansey in hand.

If he had it in hand—

"Murkrow!"

Kenji looked up and shouted, hoping the Murkrow fighting the Vibrava in the sky would swoop down to support him.

Unfortunately, faster than Murkrow was Baimu.

"Chansey, carry Aron away, use Heal Bell!" he shouted as he ran, his head down, the speed he burst out with making his footfalls like crackling thunder.

Kenji glanced back and immediately saw Baimu charging at him with a blade, his soul nearly fleeing his body in terror.

What the hell was wrong with this guy?

Why did he just charge over here alone with a knife!?

Jian, unable to make sense of the situation, didn't dare hesitate and ran for his life—this guy was far too bizarre, not even stirring in him the slightest desire to try fighting back.

However.

Just as Baimu and Jian were chasing and fleeing, a startled cry from Chansey suddenly came from behind them.

"Lucky!"

At once a vicious gust howled, as if something had broken through the air at a terrifying speed.

Baimu turned his head slightly and immediately saw the Houndoom that should have been asleep closing in at extreme speed, panting heavily, tongue flailing, its face a mix of agony and savagery—proof it was in an extremely wretched state.

But for some reason, the blood-red hue in its eyes was gone, leaving only the clarity of reason returned.

The drug wore off?

Baimu could only assume so, and he hated his own rotten luck.

"Hahahaha, heaven helps me! Quick, bite him to death!" Jian, running at the very front, also spotted the Houndoom catching up and shouted in wild elation.

"Ao!!"

Houndoom barked in response—though tormented by the drug's aftereffects, at this moment it only wanted to finish Baimu off as quickly as possible.

Even if it collapsed here completely!

Finally.

The distance between man and dog closed to within two meters—for Houndoom, that was a distance it could pounce.

Without the slightest hesitation it snarled low and lunged forward!

Whoosh!

The black light on its claws flared and quickly dimmed—a sign of its energy attribute being exhausted. But against an ordinary human, even raw physical strength alone was more than enough!

Its savage, blood-red maw opened wide; it stared at the man who had turned around with a solemn expression, locking dead-on onto his throat.

It never expected the man before it to suddenly roar out loud and actively offer his arm beneath its gleaming fangs.

"Do what you believe is right—!!"

Houndoom snapped its jaws shut violently, and blood burst forth from the man's arm!

Tear him apart, tear—

Huh?

Houndoom froze, because it discovered it had lost control of its body—not from exhaustion, but because a pale blue energy had fixed every inch, every muscle of its body in place!

Then it heard its trainer's voice, thick with disbelief.

"Impossible, this is a Dark-type Pokémon!"

What...?

Houndoom's mind went blank.

—

"Only Pokémon that can battle have value!"

"What's the use of knowing only skills that restore stamina and heal scrapes? Do I look like I'm short a few hundred bucks for potions?"

"Useless! Attack it, you useless thing! If you don't fight other Pokémon, how are you supposed to level up? Useless!"

"Such a low level and so expensive—honestly don't know why I bought it!"

Belittlement, reproach, abuse...

And even beatings.

These words, along with the physical pain, paired with those familiar yet strange faces, were etched deep into Chansey's mind.

In fact.

It couldn't understand the meaning of those words.

That a Pokémon unable to battle had no reason to exist; that spending a fortune only to bring back a common potion; that it was a useless thing that only knew how to eat and not create value.

For Chansey, all of that was far too complicated—nowhere near as plain and easy to grasp as the malice those people showed.

So.

In the end, the only thing it remembered was that "battle" was something very, very frightening.

Sold again and again, and sent back again and again.

Chansey could no longer clearly recall how many people it had seen, how many times it had been pushed onto a battle field, how many beatings it had taken. Humans, all kinds of Pokémon had attacked it.

And the number of times it dared to strike back—zero.

The fear of attacking others lingered on; it could dodge others' attacks, and it tried using Sing to make others sleep, but to take the initiative and attack—even just a touch—it did not dare.

Because of the pain.

Having taken so many hits, it knew all too well how agonizing it was to be struck by a move, and it truly felt fear and panic because of it.

Why must one attack other Pokémon or humans?

This wasn't some principle Chansey clung to—it simply found it hard to understand, couldn't understand. Even as it gradually came to grasp human society and the words they spoke.

Hiding in the beast cage, it would often recall some pleasant memories from the past.

For instance, one time when it was sold, it became the companion of a girl who looked as cute as a doll; everyone had a great time playing together—no battles, no need to hurt anyone.

Those days were truly peaceful, truly happy.

But in the end, it was still pushed onto a battle field.

The reason was that the girl's good friend wanted to have a Pokémon battle; Chansey thought the girl would refuse, but to its surprise, the latter actually agreed.

And in the end, unable to take the initiative and attack its opponent, it lost that battle, which had really held no suspense.

One day, Chansey discovered for the first time just how terrifying a girl could be when she lost face in front of a friend and got angry—that face, twisted and flushed red with rage, ultimately earned it punches and kicks.

There wasn't much force, and it didn't really hurt, but Chansey was deeply saddened; it believed it was its own fault.

If it could attack, would the little girl not feel sad?

What a pity.

The very next day, before it could even apologize, it was sent back.

Once again back in the beast cage, although the time spent together had been very brief, the impression that girl left on Chansey remained deeply etched, and occasionally when it recalled those moments, it still felt a little happy.

The helpless truth was, its future was a vast, hazy, and dim expanse.

Where was it to go from here?

Chansey gazed at the pitch-black surroundings and let out a soft sigh, "Lucky…"

"Did you hear something?"

"Hear what?"

The sudden voices cut off its thoughts. It lifted its head, and soon heard footsteps approaching. A voice asking the price rang out, and then the black curtain before it was pulled back, revealing a face with a rather cold expression.

"Lucky…"

Chansey was startled, and stared in panic at the youth looking straight at it.

Being sold again? Then thrown onto the battlefield to get beaten up again? Why did the shopkeeper lie to it, saying it had only been sold twice?

Countless questions swirled in Chansey's mind. The tension left it at a loss, and it could no longer hear any sound beside it. Even after being recalled into the Poké Ball, it remained uneasy and anxious.

But.

The imagined tragic fate, repeating over and over, never came.

Though the outward manner was cold, the other's heart was full of goodwill. Not only was it not attacked, it got a full meal — honestly, it had been a very long time since it had eaten such a peaceful meal.

The other was called Baimu, and had a partner who looked very loyal and dependable.

After Chansey finished eating, it tried to guess when it would be sent out to battle, and how long Baimu's kindness would take to be worn away by it.

Strangely, Baimu chose to chat with it.

Although most of the time it was like talking past each other, neither side understanding the other, Chansey inevitably grew more and more relaxed.

So chatting could be this wonderful?

Chansey thought back to that little girl, and realized it had barely spoken a few words with her — most of the time it had been endlessly fussed over, like a doll.

By that reckoning, this was its first time chatting with someone for so long.

And when Baimu mentioned that all it needed was for Chansey to heal Aron, Chansey was equally incredulous.

Really, just healing was enough?

It desperately wished someone would tell it this was real, and the act of healing Aron and Larvesta gave it a measure of confidence.

Perhaps.

It really didn't need to attack anyone — just healing the other was enough.

And so it went on living by Baimu's side.

And gradually, it found that no matter how many times it showed weakness and confusion about the future, about everything before its eyes, there would always be a warm hand that gently gave it a little push from behind, giving it confidence, telling it what it should do.

That was Baimu's hand.

For one moment.

It felt that taking the initiative to attack was not so hard to accept, because Baimu was so kind and dependable, because Baimu was absolutely nothing like those people from before.

But if Baimu wanted it to go into battle right now, Chansey was still a little afraid.

It really should go.

Ever since it learned Baimu had a very important competition, this thought had flashed through its mind countless times.

One afternoon, when Aron's battle had ended, Baimu's good friend — that yellow-haired human — suggested letting Chansey go up and try.

Chansey felt this might be a chance.

It was panicking, it was nervous, every reaction of its body showed reluctance — yet it still decided to give it a try.

But.

"Forget it."

Baimu refused, without even much hesitation. "It hasn't yet gotten past the hurdle in its own heart. There's no need to force it."

Why?

I can go!

Chansey desperately wanted to express that it really could, but in the end all it did was keep kneading its two little paws, unable to make a single sound.

At that moment, Baimu seemed to notice its inner struggle, patted its head, and said with a gentle, earnest smile: "If you don't want to do something, just refuse. I won't blame you — after all, we're partners, we accommodate each other.

"Do what you want to do, do what you believe is right. Aron and I will always stand on your side. You can choose for yourself."

Do what you believe is right. Do what you want to do.

Your fate is yours to choose.

No one had ever said these things to it. Chansey didn't know how that day passed; those few sentences kept circling through its mind, churning without end.

So I can actually make my own decisions?

So.

My fate can actually be chosen by myself?

I see. But still, I hope you can give me a little push — just a gentle one — and let me greet a real tomorrow.

Standing in front of Aron.

Chansey watched Baimu, struck by a Houndoom, heard the other saying words it knew well, and saw that hand — the one that should have been gently pushing it from behind — now dripping with blood.

It gazed toward that distant direction.

As if freedom, as if those gentle words, as if all the wonder of these past days, had all drifted far away from it.

"Lucky——!!"

Ah——!!

Chansey screamed hysterically, and the vast spiritual power that had been suppressed in her mind burst forth like floodwaters through an opened sluice gate.