Staying inside the Poké Ball was boring. Houndour got restless, rolling around with the Ball balanced on its head.
He and Ethan had already agreed: it couldn't come out yet, but it could play inside the Ball.
Ethan was still wracking his brain for how to give this Houndour a believable backstory his parents wouldn't question.
Creak…
The bedroom door swung open. Ethan's reflexes kicked in—he palmed the wobbling Poké Ball and pinned it to the bedspread.
His mom stepped in, anxious. "Ethan, go find Mr. Carter. Your father might be in trouble up in the hills."
Ethan's stomach dropped. In this world, if a regular person got lost in the wild, things could go bad fast.Wild Pokémon weren't the gentle, goofy creatures from anime. "Killer snakes" and "killer spiders" were everywhere.Even an unassuming Grass type could hit you with the Powder trio—PoisonPowder, Sleep Powder, Stun Spore—and ruin your day.
"Mom, breathe. How do you know something might've happened to Dad?"
He forced himself calm. At the very least he needed to know which way Mark Rivers had gone this morning.
"He went to North Ridge. There used to be a Spinarak colony up there before the villagers pushed them deeper. We agreed he'd be back by three no matter what, and absolutely home by four. If he wasn't, I'd get the neighbors to help search."
Ethan checked the time. Past four. His heart thudded.
"Go ask Mr. Carter for help. I'll borrow a few more Pecha Berries from Mr. Grant. Please let it not be too late."
Ethan snatched up Houndour's Ball, grabbed his father's sunhat from the living room, and sprinted out.
"Mom, you find Mr. Carter—I'm heading straight to North Ridge to find Dad. Every minute we lose makes it worse."
"You can't go without a Pokémon!" she cried, on the verge of tears. "Don't be reckless—come back!"
"I've got one—a classmate lent it to me. I'll find him!"
He waved the Poké Ball over his head as he ran. Inside, Houndour cooperated—the button blinked a few times to prove something was there.
"Mom—Mr. Grant's— and Mr. Carter's—"His voice faded around the corner as his figure disappeared.
She stopped, chest heaving, then turned to seek help.
Out on the path to North Ridge, Ethan released Houndour and set the sunhat on its head. "Can you follow Dad's scent?"
A dog-type for his golden finger… had the system anticipated this?
"Houn… houn…"Houndour answered seriously, shook off the hat, sniffed, and took off up the trail. Every so often it glanced back, beckoning Ethan on.
"Good boy. Reliable."
Ethan scooped up the hat and followed.
North Ridge sprawled wide. The soil was red and poor; century-old pines and cypresses dominated the slopes—thin trunks, but broad canopies that turned the understory dim and resin-scented.Few Caterpie lived under such pitchy boughs; there were more Weedle and Paras instead.
If you wanted real Bug-fighters, you had to cross the ridge into deeper ranges—where wild levels hovered around the 20s. That wasn't a place for someone like Dad to set foot.
After one low summit, Houndour found a narrow path into the pines. No one had walked it in a while. Freshly crushed weeds lined both sides—Dad had come this way.
"What was he thinking, taking a side path? If something happens, how do we find you fast? Thank Arceus I've got Houndour."
They hurried. In the wild, time is the difference between life and death—especially if poison is involved.
"I hope he was just delayed… and if he was poisoned, I hope he took the Pecha in time…"
Houndour barked twice. Ethan jogged to catch up—then froze.
A small pool of blood stained the path, with clumps of short gray fur—Shadow's.From the coagulation and color, two to three hours old.
Ethan swallowed, scanning the brush. A few steps off the path, a flattened thicket—a fight had rolled through here.
"Track the blood scent," he told Houndour. As they moved, Ethan spotted a purple scale in the grass.
Attacker identified: Ekans. A "killer snake."
"Damn it… an Ekans this close to the outskirts? Dad, what were you thinking?"
Shadow couldn't beat an Ekans; Dad would've run—straight deeper into the ridge?
"Houn!" Houndour bristled, stance dropping.
A reek of musk. A triangular head slid into view, mouth half-open.
Intimidate.
The low-lying serpent triggered its Ability the instant it struck—on Ethan, the weaker target.Purple coils lifted, curved fangs bared, striking for his neck.
A black blur cut across Ethan's vision.
Sucker Punch.
Houndour's body moved on instinct, smashing the Ekans out of the air. It slammed into a pine with a meaty crack, coiled reflexively—and the trunk scored with deep grooves under its squeeze.
Wrap, Ethan thought. "Watch its body and venom—don't let it grab you!"
Tch! Tch!Two Poison Stings spat straight for Ethan's face and throat. True to its "killer" name, the serpent went for the trainer first.
Ethan threw himself sideways, rolling under the needles.
"HOUN!" Houndour roared, furious. Attacking its trainer was unforgivable.
It bunched to lunge—"Houndour, hold! Back to me!"
Ethan scrambled up a low pine, hauling himself onto a thick branch. Ground-level was a bad place to be; up here, he'd be harder to target.
Good dog. Houndour cut its charge, planting itself between Ethan and the serpent, reading the enemy's next move.
The Ekans hissed, tongue tasting the air—eyes gleaming with a taunting intelligence.
Taunt? Or just mean.
Houndour trembled with anger but held position. Dark-type blood—discipline under pressure.
"Ember!"
This snake was too dangerous. For Dad, for the village—Ethan had to end it here.
Forest fire? Jail forever?
No time for that. And with Flash Fire, Houndour was safer around flames.
Red sparks jetted from Houndour's jaws, fanning past the trunk where Ekans clung. They landed in the dry pine needles, and the pitchy wood took in an instant.
Pine burns easy.
Flames blossomed in a ring around the serpent. The sudden heat panicked it; a creature of dim understories, it wasn't used to walls of fire.
It released the trunk to spring clear, trying to close with Houndour and sink venom in.
"Kite it—keep your distance and pepper with Ember!"
Houndour's ears flicked. It hopped back and spat three quick bursts where the snake would land.
Ekans twisted midair, dodged one—two hit, and the third splashed into more needles, feeding the blaze.
Now its purple scales were scorched and peeling, blisters rising where the fire had kissed it.
Ekans reared and spat another volley of Poison Sting, and its face… warped, a ghostly grimace swelling behind it.
Intimidate + Scary Face.
Speed crushed, mind rattled—Houndour's movements would bog down and its attack weaken.
"Dodge!" Ethan shouted.
Shaken by Intimidate, Houndour was a beat late. Two barbs crossed paths at staggered speeds; it twisted under one, but the other stuck.
From his perch, Ethan saw the shudder ripple through Houndour's body."Poisoned? With that low chance? Seriously?"
The toxin spread fast. Houndour's vision wobbled, edges blurring. It shook its head, fighting panic—its first real battle.
Ekans seized the opening, coils whipping, arrowing in.
Trap the dog. Bind it, or I die here, flashed through the serpent's cold mind.
"Houndour — Flash Fire! Raise a flame curtain!"
"Houn!"
As if the blaze had heard its king, fire surged to Houndour's call. Heat rolled, and tongues of flame leapt into a wavering wall between hound and snake.
"Now Fire Spin—whip the flames and trap it!"
The burning needles and pitch fed the vortex as Houndour snarled, spiraling the curtain into a ring of fire that snapped shut around Ekans.