Returning to his bachelor apartment, Lorze immediately released Froslass from her Poké Ball.
Earlier, he couldn’t exactly show off his methods in front of May, but now he didn’t have to fake shit anymore.
“Froslass, normally a Poké Ball serves as the foundational contract between a Trainer and a Pokémon, but I have a significantly superior method!”
“Yaa~~”
Froslass tilted her head slightly, expressing confusion.
But then she saw Lorze form a bizarre hand seal.
Instantly, his hands were wrapped in a deeply eerie energy that ultimately condensed into a glowing rune.
“This is a Contract Spell from necromantic magic.
Don’t resist it.
Once you accept it, the bond between us will become unimaginably tight and intimate.”
Froslass already harbored intense affection for Lorze and suspected absolutely nothing.
Furthermore, hearing that it would make her profoundly closer to him, she nodded in agreement without a single shred of hesitation, allowing the phantom rune to sink straight into her head.
In the next instant, a direct mental and spiritual link was forged between Lorze and Froslass, making it feel as if they could flawlessly communicate with just a single thought.
The Contract Spell was a core technique for Necromancers.
Unlike a temporary summon of undead creatures, this was a magic that forged an absolute, permanent binding with an undead being.
However, back in his old magical world, because Necromancers were brutal, sadistic bastards despised by humans and dogs alike, this spell rarely ever saw actual use.
He never expected that binding a Ghost-type Pokémon in this world would be so ridiculously easy.
From this moment forward, Froslass was Lorze’s contracted undead.
The two sides could engage in telepathic soul communication just like he did with Zorua, and he could even summon her from a distance.
After completing the contract, Lorze could faintly sense Froslass’s emotional state—an absolute surge of euphoric joy and deep, clinging attachment.
“Froslass, from this day on, we are partners who will never, ever be separated!”
“Yaa~ Yaa~~”
Froslass let out a soft, sweet cry.
Floating joyfully right up to Lorze, she leaned down and kissed him affectionately on the cheek, leaving behind a faint, lingering layer of frost.
“Guurr~~”
Zorua wasn’t having this shit.
It instantly burst out of the shadows, leaped straight into Lorze’s arms, and aggressively blew away the frost on his cheek before glaring vigilantly at Froslass.
Its eyes were completely filled with sheer regret, as if screaming that if it had known this icy succubus was so seductively manipulative, it would have done everything in its power to stop her from joining the team.
Lorze gently stroked Zorua’s fur to soothe it, then turned to Froslass and asked: “Can you tell me your story?”
Froslass fell completely silent for a moment.
On a mountain where snow fell mercilessly all year round, a clan of Snorunt and Glalie lived together, depending on each other for survival.
Froslass was once one of them.
She deeply trusted the words of the clan elder, an ancient Glalie, absolutely never venturing near the human villages below, nor having any interaction with the occasional adventurers who wandered past the snowline.
Those days were profoundly peaceful, so peaceful she thought it would last for eternity.
Until one day, a violently deafening explosion rocked the mountain, nearly knocking her unconscious.
“It’s Pokémon Hunters!
Everyone run!
Don’t look back!” The elder’s voice was completely laced with raw terror.
The entrance to their ice cave was violently blown wide open.
Accompanied by the chaotic shouting of humans and the berserk roaring of Pokémon, she watched helplessly as a Houndoom’s fangs savagely pierced through her brother’s body.
She watched a Magmar’s searing flames melt the walls of the ice cave their clan had lived in for generations, turning it into hissing steam.
By some miracle of sheer luck, she managed to escape in the end.
She couldn’t remember how long she ran, nor did she know how many of her brothers and sisters had successfully escaped like her.
She only remembered the ceaseless, violent explosions and bloodcurdling screams constantly echoing behind her that day, until those sounds grew fewer and farther away.
Even though she escaped death, she was critically wounded.
Fortunately, a kind-hearted human granny took her home and provided basic medical treatment, allowing her to ultimately survive.
A Skitty at the granny’s house tried to make friends with her, but she gave no response.
Once her injuries healed, she silently left.
However, she had learned that not all humans were evil bastards.
She wandered aimlessly alone for a very long time, having no fucking clue where to go or what the point of living even was.
She later learned that the Pokémon Hunters who annihilated her clan that day were part of a massive, organized syndicate.
They specifically targeted rare Pokémon clans in isolated regions, trafficking them to the black market.
Then one day, buried deep in the snow of an utterly desolate valley, she found a hidden stone.
She could intensely feel the dormant energy sleeping within that stone—an energy that deeply resonated with a primal craving in her soul.
She gently touched the stone, was instantly swallowed by a blinding light, and naturally evolved into a Froslass.
From that day forward, she was no longer that frail, cowering little Snorunt.
Upon becoming Froslass, she forged a new, absolute purpose: to hunt down those fucking hunters and rescue her kidnapped clan!
Exploiting the stealth capabilities of her Ghost typing, she infiltrated black markets, seeing Pokémon locked in cramped, filthy cages with dead, empty eyes.
She snuck onto transport ships, breached illegal breeding farms, and even engaged in brutal, bloody combat with several Pokémon Hunters.
However, these hunters were backed by a colossal, deeply rooted syndicate.
Later, during a vicious brawl with Pokémon Hunters, she fell into a fatal crisis.
Fortunately, May happened to see her and saved her life.
She felt that May was a formidably strong and incredibly kind-hearted Trainer.
She hoped to accept May’s training to push herself to become vastly stronger.
It was true that May was strong.
She even gifted Froslass a priceless ‘Never-Melt Ice’ right upon meeting her, massively boosting her combat power.
However, while the girl was undeniably talented, compared to grinding her Pokémon for actual combat, she glaringly preferred the flashy, impractical pageantry of Pokémon Contests.
This left Froslass deeply unsatisfied.
And then she met Lorze.
The moment she laid eyes on this young man, she was intensely infatuated, and she could subtly sense a deep, necrotic intimacy radiating from him.
What followed was the entire series of events that unfolded on Mt.
Pyre, culminating in her finally becoming his Pokémon.
“I see.
I had no idea you went through such absolute hell, Froslass!
But rest assured.
I will absolutely do everything in my fucking power to help you, whether that means slaughtering those hunters or tracking down your clan.”
“Yaa~~”
Froslass floated intimately to Lorze’s side and wrapped him in a deep, tight embrace.
Zorua desperately wanted to voice its complaints, but after thinking it over, it ultimately bit its tongue.
“Right!
Today, aside from bringing Froslass into the fold, the absolute biggest jackpot was this!”
Lorze pulled out the ‘Spell Tag’ and handed it to Zorua.
The little fox’s eyes instantly locked onto it, gleaming with sheer, unadulterated ecstasy.
An Intermediate-tier Held Item.
Even at the massive Lilycove Department Store, you’d have to book it far in advance and pull some serious fucking strings just to get your hands on one.
He never expected to score one on his very first excursion to Mt.
Pyre.
But because of this, he had thoroughly pissed off that “Pro-tier” Spiritomb and the old royal bastard Cofagrigus, turning them into mortal enemies.
However, Lorze wasn’t losing any sleep over it.
After all, he had definitively proven that his necromantic magic could be aggressively used to cultivate Ghost-type Pokémon.
By the time their paths crossed again, his team’s combat power would likely have completely skyrocketed.
When that time came, it was anyone’s fucking guess who would be the one getting slaughtered!