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Ron breathed a sigh of relief—his dilemma was solved.
Linus handed him a wild berry coated in raspberry jam. Ron didn't refuse; he popped it into his mouth.
Early spring berries were still tart, but paired with Linus's jam, the flavor was surprisingly good.
"How is it?" Linus asked, awaiting Ron's verdict.
"Delicious."
The moment the word left his lips, Froakie's Poké Ball trembled—and poof!—Froakie appeared at Ron's feet, gazing up at Linus expectantly.
Linus chuckled and offered another berry to the little frog.
"…Thank you," Ron said.
"No trouble at all." Linus felt far more at ease with Pokémon than people. He warmly scratched Froakie behind the ears.
Before Ron could respond, Lewis's voice rang out: "Time's up!" A whistle blew.
Linus waved Ron toward the gathering crowd.
Ron strode over just as Lewis stood before the children, counting their eggs. His eyes landed on Abigail.
"…Eight," Lewis sighed. Though no one disputed her win, it felt slightly unfair compared to Vincent and Jas's meager hauls.
"Will you join again next year, Abigail?" Lewis asked, glancing at the enormous egg cradled in Ron's arms.
Abigail grinned confidently.
Lewis declared her the winner. "Since you've won every year, this time's prize will be a raffle ticket instead." He handed her a slip. "I've installed a prize machine at my house—exchange the ticket if you see something you like."
Abigail pocketed it without much excitement. Past prizes—like stacks of straw hats—gathered dust in her room. She'd never cared about gifts; she just loved the thrill of the hunt and victory.
"By the way—what kind of egg is that?" Lewis asked, eyeing the arm-length egg in Ron's hold.
"No idea. Found it over there," Ron said, pointing. "Probably a Pokémon Egg."
Lewis wasn't particularly interested. "Take it back to your farm and incubate it."
With that, he dismissed everyone—the festival officially over.
"Abigail won again," Vincent grumbled. "Every single year!"
"That's because I earned it," Abigail shot back. "I was first when I was little too."
She shoved the raffle ticket into Ron's hand. "Here—payment for playing along."
Then, remembering their earlier talk, she pulled out a Poké Ball and pressed it into his palm. "Amber's Ball. Be nice to him."
Ron stared at it, surprised.
Abigail patted Gengar, who emerged from her shadow. "Remember—you'll take Amber and me to Kalos for an adventure."
"Deal," Ron agreed readily. "I'll bring him to you when it's time."
He recalled Gengar, tucked the giant egg under his arm, retrieved Froakie, and headed home.
Back at the Nursery, he placed the egg beside Ditto's.
Scanning it, he saw it wouldn't hatch until Spring 28—far later than Ditto's Spring 14 hatch date.
Once Ditto hatched, he could begin breeding Fletchling.
After a quick check, Ron left the hut and released Fletchling and Combee.
He assigned tasks:
– Ron: Dig holes for seeds.
– Fletchling & Combee: Drop seeds into holes.
– Froakie: Cover seeds with soil, then help water.
– Combee: Use Honey Gather on every Pine Tree nearby—Ron would collect the yield later.
Once planting finished, Ron watched Combee flutter off—and for the first time, pulled a watering can from his toolbox.
Smartly, he'd planted strawberries beside the farm pond, cutting water-fetching time significantly.
Evelyn's recipe bundle had included Sprinkler blueprints—but regular ones needed Copper and Iron ingots, and Quality ones required Gold and Iron.
Ron only had Iron.
Luckily, Froakie had leveled up its watering skill—now covering 9 tiles per Water Gun. Together, they finished all the watering by 2 PM.
Ron patted Froakie, who lay by the campfire gnawing a potato. "Good work."
"Froakie?" Froakie cracked an eye open, gave Ron a tired look, and resumed eating.
"…" Ron patted its head again and left the farm.
Without Tappers, Pine Tar and Resin didn't come auto-packaged like in the game.
So Ron fashioned a crude wooden bucket to collect them. He also brought his sickle—to scrape moss from bark and stones for fertilizer.
Bucket in hand, he headed up the mountain trail.
By the time both buckets overflowed with materials, night had fallen.
As he walked back with Combee, footsteps echoed ahead.
A bespectacled girl with shoulder-length hair approached.
"Oh—hey, Ron," Maru said awkwardly. "Evening. We met at the carpenter's—I'm Maru."
She'd spotted him gathering supplies from Robin's shop and debated following him all afternoon. Finally, she'd mustered the courage.
"I've been meaning to properly apologize," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry, Ron. I shouldn't have insulted your farm like that."
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