Deep within the forest, outside a small wooden cabin, a girl wearing a yellow straw hat was tending to wild Pokémon.
Beside her, a Rattata was curled up, napping peacefully.
"Hm? Oddish… why are you injured?"
The girl gently picked up the Oddish that had suddenly appeared and began treating its wounds.
Rustle—rustle.
Oddish's leaves swayed softly, as if trying to explain something.
"…Oh?"
"So Bulbasaur was captured by a Trainer?"
The girl tilted her head slightly, as though she could understand what Pokémon were saying.
Yet instead of sadness, a gentle smile appeared on her face.
She softly stroked Oddish's slender green leaves.
"That Bulbasaur… should have left long ago."
Most of the Pokémon here lived relaxed, uneventful lives.
But that Bulbasaur was different—it longed to battle, to grow stronger.
The outside world was where it truly belonged.
Yet it had stayed behind all this time, protecting the weaker Pokémon instead of pursuing its own path.
The girl gently set Oddish down and looked around at the surrounding wild Pokémon.
"…Maybe I should be like Bulbasaur too," she murmured.
"Maybe I should go see the outside world."
She adjusted her yellow straw hat, packed her belongings, and—bringing only her Rattata—set off in one direction.
Behind her, a chorus of wild Pokémon cries echoed, filled with reluctance and farewell.
With the powerful Bulbasaur now added to his team, Ash and the others continued toward Vermilion City.
Suddenly, Brock spoke up excitedly.
"There's a town up ahead! Let's restock our supplies!"
Feeding three people plus a growing group of Pokémon—three meals a day, afternoon snacks, late-night food—
even Brock's seemingly infinite backpack was reaching its limit.
In short: they were running out of supplies.
The group quickened their pace.
RUMBLE—
Without warning, the ground beneath their feet began to shake.
"Huh?"
All three froze.
BOOM—!!
Before they could react, the earth split open, and Ash, Brock, Misty—and Pikachu—fell straight down.
Dust filled the air.
The nearly ten-meter drop left everyone dizzy and aching.
"What the heck was that?!"
Misty complained.
"Don't tell me it's Team Rocket again?"
Ash groaned.
Oddly enough, a strange sense of anticipation bubbled up inside him.
They kept saying they wanted to capture his Pikachu, but they hadn't shown up in days—
wasn't that breaking a promise?
Sure, he wasn't going to let them catch Pikachu…
…but Pikachu at least needed to look popular and valuable!
However, when several heads peeked down from above, they clearly weren't Team Rocket.
"…Uh, bald?"
The trio looked up.
Five shiny, bald heads appeared at the edge of the pit.
They gleamed under the sunlight.
Each wore black sunglasses, giving off a very "professional crew" vibe.
"Beep.Squirtle.
Turtle Pokémon.
One of the original starter Pokémon.
Blue bald head. Enjoys spraying Water Gun."
The Pokédex announced automatically.
"Squirtle! Squirtle!"
"Squirtle, squirtle!"
The five Squirtle burst into laughter, whispering smugly to each other.
"Hey! You did this, didn't you?!"
Ash snapped angrily.
He pocketed the Pokédex, stepped onto Brock's back, and launched himself upward.
Thump!
Thump!
He even kicked off the rock walls twice mid-air.
Using pure momentum and strength, Ash grabbed the edge of the pit with one hand.
WHAM!
With a final push, he hauled himself out.
"Squirtle?!"
"Squirtle?!"
The five Squirtle staggered back in shock.
They had used this trap on countless passersby—
no human had ever escaped so easily.
They were genuinely shaken.
"…Squirtle?"
"Another starter Pokémon…"
Ash's expression changed dramatically.
Had starter Pokémon become this common?
You could just find them in the wild now?!
Ash pointed decisively.
"Enough fooling around, Pikachu—it's your turn!"
Regardless of whether this was just a prank, he wanted a Squirtle.
They looked so goofy…
he really wanted to pat one of those shiny bald heads.
"Pika!"
Pikachu leapt forward, landing between Ash and the five Squirtle.
Today, Pikachu was fired up.
Slacking off was mandatory—but you couldn't let people notice you were slacking.
Being called out so openly meant one thing:
Its training wasn't complete yet.
Today, it had to fight seriously.
Ash didn't overthink it.
"Pikachu—Thunderbolt!"
Electric-type beats Water-type.
This one's in the bag!
"Pika… CHUUU!!!"
Electricity erupted from Pikachu's cheeks, forming a twisted golden bolt that shot forward.
"Squirtle—?!"
"Squirtle—?!"
The sudden flash threw the Squirtle into chaos.
But one Squirtle—wearing sharp, angular sunglasses—reacted instantly.
It fired a point-blank Water Gun straight at Pikachu's face.
"Pika—!!"
The hit knocked Pikachu's aim off.
Instead of engulfing all five Squirtle, the Thunderbolt struck only one.
"Squirtle…"
Still, Thunderbolt's power was overwhelming.
The round-eyed Squirtle was instantly scorched black and collapsed, unable to battle.
Ash wasn't discouraged.
"Then we'll do it again—Thunderbolt!"
The electric attack surged forward once more.
This time, the remaining four Squirtle were ready.
They fired Water Gun simultaneously—
—but not at Pikachu.
SPLOOSH!
SPLOOSH!
The water soaked the ground around Ash and the pit entrance, drenching the Trainers.
Electricity travels through water.
CRACKLE—ZAP—!!
Pikachu's Thunderbolt suddenly changed direction.
The electricity surged straight toward Ash and the others.
Ash, Brock, and Misty were instantly electrocuted.
Brock and Misty had no idea what even happened—
first soaked, then shocked.
"Pika…?"
Realizing something was wrong, Pikachu cut off the electricity and turned around awkwardly.
It really had been trying to fight properly today…
"Squirtle! Squirtle! Squirtle!"
The four Squirtle quickly hoisted their unconscious teammate onto their shoulders and executed a tactical retreat.
Running while chanting loudly.
A professional team to the end.
Not long after, Ash and the others—still numb and twitching—reached the nearby town.
There, they learned the truth.
That the Squirtle Squad were repeat offenders.
They regularly pulled pranks on travelers near the town.
Nothing truly dangerous—but enough to annoy the townsfolk.
"They were abandoned by their Trainer,"
Officer Jenny explained gently.
"That may be why they act out like this."
If they continued causing trouble, law enforcement would be forced to intervene.
"…Abandoned?"
Ash repeated quietly.
He couldn't understand how anyone could abandon their Pokémon.
Before becoming a Trainer, he had dreamed desperately of having even one Pokémon.
That longing made the word abandon feel foreign and wrong.
"Not all Trainers are like you, Ash,"
Brock sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Especially those who see 'strength' as the only standard.
When a Pokémon falls short of their expectations, they discard it without hesitation."
Some Trainers even hatch dozens of Eggs just to select the strongest one.
The rest?
They abandon them in the forest and let fate decide.
Abandoning Pokémon Eggs is illegal.
But abandoning newly hatched Pokémon?
That's a loophole in the law.
"I don't accept that,"
Ash said firmly, clenching his fist.
"There are no weak Pokémon—only trash Trainers."
"If I ever meet someone who abandons their Pokémon,"
"I'll punch them right in the face."
Even Brock—normally opposed to violence—had nothing to argue against.
Whether emotional or rational, both paths were valid.
But Ash's emotional conviction was something Brock deeply respected.
Now that he understood the Squirtle's past, Ash's anger vanished completely.
He turned to Officer Jenny, eyes steady.
"Officer Jenny—please let me handle those Squirtle."
"I want to catch them."
If humans were the reason they lost trust…
Then he'd be the one to help them believe again.
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