“Big Brother, Dad’s coming home today.”
Suguru Natsume was seated at the dining table, calmly eating breakfast when his younger sister, Hatsumi, suddenly delivered the news.
His hands did not pause.
Only after swallowing the food in his mouth did he slowly reply,
“So he’s coming home.
What about it?”
He picked up another piece of food with his chopsticks.
“You can ask him to take you out somewhere today.”
Their father, Senri Natsume, served as both the chairman of the Kogane Prefecture Trainer Association and the Leader of a nationally accredited Steel-type Gym.
He was an early-stage Quasi-Champion Trainer who currently ranked thirty-sixth on Japan’s national Elite Rankings.
With so many responsibilities resting on his shoulders, Senri was constantly overwhelmed with work.
Sometimes, an entire month would pass without him returning home even once.
Their grandfather, Gendō Natsume, was no different.
In fact, as the vice chairman of the Japan Trainer Association and the nation’s reigning Steel-type Elite, Gendō carried an even heavier burden than his son.
Aside from the day Suguru officially became a Trainer—when Gendō had made a special trip home to personally give him Beldum—the old man had not returned to the estate since.
Their father had also been away for quite some time.
Yet neither Suguru nor Hatsumi sounded particularly excited by the news of his return.
There was no sense of joyful anticipation after a long separation.
Only calm acceptance.
“I’m going out with Kasumi today.”
Hatsumi shook her head.
“She invited me to the Pokémon Park in the eastern suburbs.”
Suguru looked at her strangely.
“Aren’t you two supposed to be sworn enemies?”
They called each other rivals, argued every time they met, and competed over practically everything.
So why did they keep inviting each other out to play?
“Big Brother, you don’t understand girls at all.”
Hatsumi put down her bowl and chopsticks before looking at him with open contempt.
“At this rate, you’re never going to get a girlfriend.”
“Hmph.”
Suguru remained completely unmoved.
“Women would only slow down my path to becoming a Champion.”
Romance?
Hah.
Not even a dog would bother with something like that!
Besides, with Suguru’s identity, all he had to do was crook one finger and girls would come rushing toward him in waves.
Even without the Natsume family name, his face alone was more than enough to attract an unreasonable number of admirers.
He had absolutely nothing to worry about.
After lunch, Hatsumi slung a small shoulder bag across her body and skipped happily toward the front door.
“Make sure you’re home before eight tonight,” Suguru reminded her.
“I know, stupid Big Brother!”
Hatsumi turned around, stuck out her tongue at him, and then hurried outside.
Suguru remained at the table and continued eating.
Perhaps because of the point of Physique he had received from the system, his appetite had increased considerably over the past several days.
As a result, Gardevoir had begun preparing much larger portions than before.
Hatsumi had even called Suguru a bottomless pit because of it.
Naturally, Gardevoir had immediately scolded her.
From Gardevoir’s perspective, her second little treasure eating more simply meant that he was healthy and growing properly.
The girl barely ate half a bowl of rice at every meal, and she hardly touched the side dishes.
In the end, most of the food on the table entered Suguru’s stomach.
Once he had finally finished lunch, Suguru leaned back in his chair and looked toward Gardevoir.
“Gardevoir, how about making roasted Slowpoke tail for dinner tonight?”
“Garde.”
Gardevoir nodded gently.
Although most nations prohibited the consumption of Pokémon, the continuing development of Pokémon ecology had gradually changed how certain species and body parts were classified.
Some Pokémon possessed renewable edible tissue.
Others were legally raised on specialized farms for food production.
Species such as Krabby and Magikarp could be consumed under specific regulations, while farm-raised Pokémon such as Farfetch’d and Miltank were also part of established food industries.
Slowpoke tails were among the most famous examples.
A Slowpoke’s tail could regenerate after being removed, and the meat was considered exceptionally delicious.
It could be steamed, boiled, fried, or roasted.
No matter how it was prepared, the result was a delicacy.
Even without a single grain of seasoning, Slowpoke tail naturally possessed a rich, sweet flavor.
In the wilderness, the tails of Slowpoke occasionally fell off on their own.
The entire process was completely painless for the Pokémon.
Slowpoke farming had already developed into a relatively mature industry, though the price remained rather high.
An ordinary tail cost roughly five to six thousand yen.
Higher-quality tails could sell for significantly more.
Slowpoke tails were not the only renewable Pokémon ingredients.
Crawdaunt periodically shed their large claws, which could then be harvested and eaten.
The fruit growing beneath a Tropius’s chin was both nutritious and sweet.
The cream secreted by Alcremie was an extremely valuable dessert ingredient.
There was even one Pokémon that many countries had approved for consumption in its entirety.
Magikarp.
Unfortunately, people did not eat Magikarp because it tasted good.
It did not.
The overwhelming majority of its body consisted of bones and scales.
Only two narrow strips of flesh along its back were truly edible, and even those were unpleasantly tough.
Despite that, many governments actively encouraged their citizens to eat Magikarp.
They had even funded the development of numerous Magikarp recipes.
Unfortunately, the quality of the meat was simply too poor.
There was only so much that cooking methods could accomplish.
The reason governments continued promoting Magikarp consumption had nothing to do with cuisine.
It was population control.
Magikarp reproduced far too quickly.
Their vitality was also absurdly tenacious.
They could remain perfectly healthy even in heavily polluted water.
Most adult Pokémon reproduced only once every five or six years.
The reproductive cycle of Dragon-type Pokémon could last more than a decade.
Even rapidly developing Bug-type Pokémon generally required around a year before they were mature enough to lay eggs.
Magikarp were different.
They could reach adulthood within six months.
As long as food remained abundant, they could lay eggs every month.
Combined with their ability to eat almost anything and survive in nearly every aquatic environment, their numbers multiplied at a terrifying rate.
Their uncontrolled population created serious ecological problems.
They occupied the habitats of other Water-type Pokémon, consumed enormous quantities of food, and could even clog rivers badly enough to interfere with boat traffic.
Every year, Japan was forced to spend a tremendous amount of money dealing with its Magikarp problem.
Unfortunately, they could not simply pour poison into the rivers.
Several countries had already experimented with targeted viruses, mass netting, and various forms of conventional fishing.
Most of those attempts either created serious ecological risks or failed to produce meaningful results.
In some cases, the Magikarp survived through sheer stubborn vitality—
While large numbers of other Water-type Pokémon died instead.
At present, the most effective method was to capture excess Magikarp and release them into designated areas of the ocean.
The seas covered such an enormous area that they could accommodate practically any number of Magikarp.
The second method was to eat them.
Unfortunately, Magikarp truly did taste terrible.
A top-class chef could improve the flavor by using advanced techniques and expensive accompanying ingredients.
However, those ingredients often cost more than the Magikarp itself.
Besides, not every family had a world-class chef waiting in the kitchen.
That afternoon, Gardevoir left the estate to purchase ingredients for dinner.
Suguru lay on the living room sofa and opened the Trainer Association app, intending to see whether anything interesting had been posted.
The app offered an extremely comprehensive range of services.
Trainers could chat with one another, purchase and sell items, accept missions, issue commissions, and exchange information.
Many users also published training guides concerning specific types or individual Pokémon species.
Naturally, most worthwhile guides were not free.
Many common-born Trainers survived the most difficult early stage of their careers by accepting suitable missions through the app and using the rewards to purchase essential training resources.
Suguru opened the cultivation section and began scrolling.
[A Few Notes on Raising Steel Types]
[An Analysis of Steelix’s Move Set]
[Dietary Recommendations for Steel-Type Pokémon]
[On the Effects of Different Ores on Aggron]
Most of the posts were related to Steel-type Pokémon.
The Natsume family was a millennium-old Steel-type great house.
Its understanding of Steel Pokémon surpassed that of more than ninety-nine percent of the world.
However, the world never lacked eccentric geniuses, highly specialized researchers, or even outright heretics willing to try methods that normal people would never consider.
From time to time, Suguru genuinely discovered an eye-opening idea among these public discussions.
Whether those ideas could actually be put into practice was another matter.
Even so, they sometimes offered Suguru an entirely new direction worth exploring.
One title suddenly caught his attention.
[Recommended Foods for Aron: A Diet Capable of Reducing Ground-Type Damage]
Suguru raised an eyebrow.
He selected the post and opened it.
The introductory portion was free.
However, anyone who wished to continue reading had to pay the price established by the author.
“One hundred thousand yen…”
Suguru read the freely available section once more.
The argument was unusual, but it was not complete nonsense.
“That’s not particularly expensive.”
Without further hesitation, Suguru paid the fee and unlocked the full article.