Just as Raylen was sinking into that warm, blissful comfort, a distant shout cut through the air.
"Dolores, hurry! It's assembly time!"
Dolores froze, hesitation flickering across her face.
Seeing that, Raylen immediately reached out and grabbed her wrist, hastily finishing the bowing gesture.
(Skill Activated: Adorable Appeal)
"I'm sorry… I caused trouble for my master…"
With the skill's boost, Raylen's voice turned unbelievably soft and sweet. His eyes shimmered with tears as he looked up at her, pitiful and cute all at once.
What girl could withstand that?
"It's okay. I'm your master, after all. This is what I should do."
Still, when Dolores noticed the sticky feeling on her fingertips, the cleanliness-obsessed girl really did feel a spike of annoyance.
But the moment she met Raylen's doe-eyed apology, every bit of displeasure dissolved instantly.
A newborn Pokémon—how could he possibly be at fault?
She pulled out a wet wipe and carefully cleaned her fingers.
By the time they returned to the plaza, the assembly had already started.
At the center stage stood the headmaster—Rayquaza.
Its massive body coiled above the platform, scales glinting like metal under the sunlight, imposing and majestic.
Rumor said it was one of the region's Elite Four, its true strength unfathomable.
"I expect all of you to treat your Pokémon with kindness."
Rayquaza's voice boomed like thunder, vibrating in everyone's bones.
"I've heard that someone attempted to buy and sell Pokémon. I am extremely disappointed—and furious!"
Its razor-sharp eyes swept the crowd… and stopped on Miss Goth.
"I issue a formal warning to Clarice Goth. If this happens again, your Trainer status will be revoked!"
The headmaster's harsh words drained all the color from Miss Goth's face. Still, she secretly felt relieved that her deal earlier hadn't gone through—otherwise, she might already be expelled.
She peeked at Raylen, standing beside Dolores.
Her desire to own him truly had clouded her judgment… She didn't need to make it so obvious.
She'd heard there was an organization that dealt in illegal Pokémon trading—the Rocket Gang. Maybe she could rely on them.
Even if Rayquaza warned her, the temptation of a divine Pokémon still drowned out all sense.
Meanwhile, Rayquaza kept glancing back at Raylen, its expression full of confusion.
A Level 1 newborn… divine-class Pokémon?
Impossible.
Divine Pokémon were never below level 50 at birth— and even that "50" wasn't normal. They were terrifyingly strong from the moment they emerged.
Who could capture one?
What a joke.
Unless a divine Pokémon chose to follow you, no existing Poké Ball could contain one.
Rayquaza could only sigh internally.
Dolores' luck was simply outrageous.
And the origin of that Poké Ball… even stranger.
But the more Rayquaza looked at Raylen, the more baffled it became.
What on earth was this little divine beast doing?
To Pokémon, humans all looked basically the same. A two-meter versus one-meter difference meant nothing. They judged humans by one thing: level.
Level 1 was rare beyond rare. Even tiny critters were typically level 5 to 10.
So in Pokémon eyes, Raylen looked like a newborn less than a month old.
And right now, that "infant" was standing between Dolores and Miss Skirt… with both hands brazenly exploring along their skirts.
Probably trying to show affection, Rayquaza guessed.
It nodded knowingly.
The younger a Pokémon was, the easier it bonded deeply with its trainer.
Meanwhile, Raylen wasn't hearing a single word that overgrown lizard was ranting about.
He was far too busy reveling in the joy of having a girl on each side.
He wanted to behave, he really did—but these damn hands had a mind of their own.
"Dolores, your Pokémon is…"
Miss Skirt trembled with an indescribable sensation. But seeing Raylen's innocent, adorable face, she couldn't bring herself to scold a freshly hatched baby Pokémon.
Her cheeks flushed red as she whispered to her friend,
"I just found out he likes doing… that."
Dolores wasn't doing much better. Raylen's wandering fingers sent tingles up her spine, staining her cheeks with a rosy glow.
But just like Miss Skirt, she couldn't bear to stop him.
To her, it felt like how a puppy or kitten licked its owner out of affection.
It was just… the spots he chose were a little too bold.
This ridiculous, absurd Pokémon world let Raylen experience pure, unfiltered affection for the first time.
He silently cursed.
Could that stupid dragon hurry up and finish talking?
Right now, his greatest wish was that no one was home at Dolores' place—or that she at least had a private room.
Damn these hands that won't listen!