After some tinkering, Nathan Hale finally managed to temporarily block the endless stream of comment notifications popping up on his computer.
He skimmed through some of the comments.
To be honest, most people had come because of Professor Oak’s comment, simply to “see what all the fuss was about.” After all, not everyone was interested in studying Pokémon.
Still, all that attention had inadvertently “activated” his online consultation room.
Compared with the comments under his paper, he was far more interested in the people coming to him for consultations.
After all, they were valuable observation samples.
Of course, some of the inquiries left him rather speechless.
For example, the person asking whether a Pokémon refusing to eat was a psychological problem, and the one asking whether humans and Pokémon should coexist…
One was far too simple, while the other was far too profound.
If Nathan Hale hadn’t already known Mewtwo’s account, he might even have suspected that the user named “Mathematical Magician” was Mewtwo.
By comparison, the question from the user “Eevee Eats Cabbage”—what to do about a Pokémon with an excessive inferiority complex—was at least a normal psychological problem.
But since he’d finally received so many consultations, Nathan Hale decided to take the opportunity to establish his reputation and replied to each one.
This would also benefit him when he eventually opened his own psychological counseling clinic.
[Quiet Mind]: If your Pokémon isn’t eating despite not already being full, could it simply be that it doesn’t like the food?
The first question was simple.
For the third, Nathan Hale chose to throw the question back to the person asking it.
Someone capable of asking such a question probably already had their own understanding of the matter.
It would be better to hear what they had to say first.
[Quiet Mind]: If humans and Pokémon shouldn’t coexist, then in your opinion, how should the two sides interact?
As for the second question…
[Quiet Mind]: Inferiority can have many causes, such as physiological factors, past experiences, environmental factors, psychological factors, and so on…
“Little Growlithe” and “Mathematical Magician” didn’t respond.
But “Eevee Eats Cabbage” quickly sent another message.
[Eevee Eats Cabbage]: I think…
it might involve all of them.
That’s a pretty intense level of internet surfing.
Nathan Hale hadn’t expected such a quick response.
After thinking for a moment, he began typing.
[Quiet Mind]: Then it will be somewhat troublesome.
But regardless of which factors are involved, there should always be one fundamental problem.
If that problem can be resolved, I believe the other effects will naturally be resolved as well.
Thinking of the “Mewtwo incident” from last time, he added another message.
[Quiet Mind]: Could you show me what kind of Pokémon it is?
A photo was quickly sent.
It looked like it had been taken on a phone moments ago.
But when Nathan Hale saw the Pokémon in the picture, he fell silent.
Surrounded by lush greenery and grass, a fish Pokémon swam through a crystal-clear pond.
Its entire body was almost a muddy yellow, covered in uneven patches and bumps.
Its fins and tail were light blue, though they looked somewhat ragged.
Its eyes were even more vacant and dull.
A Water-type Pokémon—
Feebas!
Nathan Hale: “…”
He pursed his lips and stared at the Feebas for a long while, genuinely unsure what to say.
If one had to choose the Pokémon with the strongest inferiority complex of them all, Feebas would unquestionably rank first.
Well…
perhaps Unown, the Pokémon said to see through everything, could put up a fight.
But curing Feebas’s inferiority complex…
That was a little difficult.
Nathan Hale even suspected that this person was deliberately making things difficult for him.
Perhaps because he’d taken so long to reply, the other person sent another message.
[Eevee Eats Cabbage]: Is there a way?
Nathan Hale took a slow breath.
[Quiet Mind]: Yes.
[Eevee Eats Cabbage]: Really?
[Quiet Mind]: It’s rather difficult.
It will require a combination of psychological treatment and physical intervention.
Given your situation, you’ll only be able to use physical intervention for now.
First, try feeding it a bitter-tasting Berry, such as a Rawst Berry, and then observe its reaction before deciding what to do next.
[Eevee Eats Cabbage]: Okay, thank you.
Seeing the account quickly go dark, Nathan Hale figured they had gone off to find a Rawst Berry.
He couldn’t help rubbing his temples.
Cure Feebas’s inferiority complex?
There was actually only one way to do it—
Make it evolve.
In the games, Feebas had two evolution methods.
One was raising its Beauty condition to 170.
The other was having it hold a Prism Scale and then trading it.
But in reality, considering how difficult Prism Scales were to obtain, as well as the fact that he had no idea about the client’s financial situation, Nathan Hale chose the safer method:
Raise its Beauty.
The reason he’d recommended a bitter Berry like a Rawst Berry was that raising Beauty required bitter-flavored Pokéblocks or Poffins.
He first needed to determine whether this particular Feebas could tolerate bitter flavors.
Gastly certainly couldn’t.
Furthermore, slowly raising Beauty would itself function as a form of “treatment.”
If everything went smoothly, perhaps he could even use this as theoretical support for a research paper on Feebas’s evolution into Milotic.
Ding!
Just as Nathan Hale was preparing to shut down the computer and take Gastly to training, another message popped up.
[Eevee Eats Cabbage]: Sorry, I forgot to ask.
How much does this treatment cost?
Cost?
Nathan Hale’s eyes lit up slightly.
Right.
He wasn’t providing psychological counseling for his students’ Pokémon.
He didn’t have to work for free.
However, considering that he didn’t yet know whether this “treatment” would actually work, he thought for a moment and decided to wait and see.
He didn’t want to ruin his reputation before he’d even managed to establish it.
[Eevee Eats Cabbage]: I found your account.
Sorry, I’m a little short on cash lately, so I can only pay this much…
I don’t know if it’s enough.
If it isn’t, I’ll send more next time.
Alliance accounts generally required complete personal information during registration, so finding Nathan Hale’s bank account wasn’t particularly difficult.
Then he saw the notification on his phone:
“20,000 Alliance Credits have been deposited into your account.
Current balance: 45,000 Alliance Credits.”
Nathan Hale silently deleted the message he’d just typed:
“We can wait until we see the results before discussing payment.”
That was…
A little too much money.
Mewtwo, look at this person!
And that’s only the consultation fee.
There’s still the treatment afterward…
“This,” Nathan Hale muttered solemnly, “is the real reason I want to open a psychological counseling clinic.”
When he looked at the now-darkened [Eevee Eats Cabbage] account again, it suddenly looked like a literal money tree to him.
One that Nathan led with coins.
“Gastly!”
Nathan Hale suddenly called out.
“Ko-gee?!”
Gastly, which had been clutching his phone, jolted.
What?!
“Give me the phone.
Order two more crates of Moomoo Milk!”
“Ko—gee?!”
Gastly’s voice shot up three octaves.
Seriously?!
“We may be poor, but we can’t be poor when it comes to Pokémon.
When have I ever lied to you?”
Nathan Hale’s eyes widened.
“Ko-gee.”
Gastly pouted, looking thoroughly unconvinced.
You told me last time that I couldn’t absorb too much gas, and that if I did it more than three times I’d die…
Nathan Hale: “…”
Does that count as lying?
Only after Gastly watched Nathan Hale place two more orders with its own eyes did it finally believe him.
“Ko-gee?”
Did you win the lottery?
Nathan Hale smiled but didn’t answer.
“Come on.
Let’s train.”
They needed to become registered Trainers as soon as possible.
And they needed to raise their strength as much as they could before the autumn field trip.
“Ko-gee!”
Gastly was brimming with motivation.
Sure enough, for a gluttonous Pokémon, one of the greatest sources of motivation was—
Food.