"Saa… sprout… sprout…"
Although the little Pokémon didn't understand what the human in front of it was saying, it instinctively knew one thing—
This person was its family.
From the moment the Pokémon Egg began to develop awareness, it had been surrounded by this human's scent. Because of that, it responded happily whenever it heard Icarus's voice.
Icarus suddenly froze.
"…I almost forgot," he muttered, slapping his forehead.
"I need to use a Poké Ball first. Otherwise, you won't be able to understand me."
That was basic common sense—and he'd nearly missed it out of excitement.
In this world, Pokémon did not naturally understand human language. Each species had its own cries and communication methods, often vastly different from one another.
Of course, extremely intelligent humans could learn fragments of Pokémon language, and a very small number of people with psychic abilities could use telepathy. But communicating freely with all Pokémon was nearly impossible for ordinary people.
Pokémon, on the other hand, were highly intelligent. Since the unification of the Pokémon League, most Pokémon could roughly grasp human intent after prolonged contact.
But newborn Pokémon were an exception.
This communication gap once caused enormous problems between humans and Pokémon.
Eventually, a great scientist combined ancient beast-taming techniques with psychic telepathy principles, then integrated them with special Apricorn technology and spatial compression systems.
That was how the Poké Ball was created.
Like the contract seals described in ancient cultivation novels from Icarus's previous life, a Poké Ball formed a bond between human and Pokémon. It allowed Pokémon to understand human speech, and humans to roughly perceive a Pokémon's emotions and intent.
Because it incorporated beast-taming principles, successfully capturing a Pokémon also strengthened the trainer's body. Different Pokémon types and strength levels granted different enhancements.
When a Pokémon grew stronger, its trainer would also receive a boost.
This was why becoming a Trainer was the most accessible extraordinary path for ordinary people.
As long as someone could capture Pokémon, they could continuously improve themselves.
Even if there weren't many high-level Trainers at the beginning, time would eventually produce elite and even top-tier individuals. In the end, Trainers gradually replaced almost all other extraordinary professions.
That was why, in modern times, Trainers were nearly the only extraordinary beings still active in the world.
Of course, this enhancement had limits.
Experiments showed that after subduing six Pokémon of the same strength level, no matter their type, further Pokémon at that level would no longer strengthen the trainer's body.
Breakthroughs in a Pokémon's strength could still grant boosts—but each time, the effect weakened significantly.
By the sixth instance, the increase was almost negligible.
No one knew why the number six seemed to be the ceiling.
Because of this, the Pokémon League officially recommended that Trainers carry no more than six Pokémon.
It also prevented people from exploiting loopholes by endlessly capturing weak Pokémon to stack physical power.
Taking a deep breath, Icarus picked up a Poké Ball and crouched in front of the small Bellsprout.
"Bellsprout," he said gently, "would you like to be my partner?"
"If you're willing, press the button in the middle and enter the Poké Ball."
Afraid that Bellsprout wouldn't understand, Icarus pulled up a short capture demonstration video and showed it to the little Pokémon, even mimicking the motions himself.
Bellsprout tilted its head, watching the screen while listening to Icarus's voice.
Although it didn't fully understand the words, as a naturally extraordinary lifeform, it quickly grasped what it needed to do.
It raised one leaf and pressed the button on the center of the Poké Ball.
A red beam of light enveloped Bellsprout and drew it into the Poké Ball.
The Poké Ball shook gently a few times.
Then it stopped.
Icarus stared at it for a second—then clenched his fist.
"I did it!" he shouted.
"I caught my first Pokémon! I'm a Trainer now!"
He yelled freely, completely unconcerned, knowing no one lived nearby.
After all, newborn Pokémon had no combat ability yet.
He planned to let Bellsprout spend its entire seven-day infancy period indoors—at most walking around the open space behind the house. He wouldn't let it leave until it entered the growth stage.
Only growing Pokémon posed real danger to ordinary humans.
Bellsprout was barely thirty centimeters tall. According to records, a fully grown Bellsprout should be around seventy centimeters.
Once it reached that stage, he could officially register as a rookie Trainer at the Pokémon Center.
"Right—I almost forgot about you."
Icarus pressed the Poké Ball's button.
"Come out, Bellsprout."
A flash of light, and the small figure appeared again in front of him.
"Saa! Sprout! Sprout!"
This time, Icarus could roughly understand its emotions.
Why was I alone inside that place?
I was scared… and hungry…
Large tears welled up in Bellsprout's round eyes.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Icarus said quickly, gently patting its head.
"I got too excited. That's my fault."
"I'll give you something good to drink."
He handed over a bottle of Moomoo Milk.
Bellsprout happily hugged the bottle and drank eagerly.
As it drank, Icarus quietly checked his own condition.
His body felt a little lighter. More energetic.
"It must be because Bellsprout is a Grass-type," he thought.
"My vitality has increased slightly—but it's still in infancy, so the effect isn't obvious."
After moving around the room a bit, he confirmed his guess. His body had indeed changed—but only subtly.
Meanwhile, after finishing the milk, Bellsprout looked drowsily at its Trainer punching and stretching around the room.
Sleepiness quickly overcame it.
Icarus noticed and hurriedly brought over the nutrient soil flowerpot he had prepared in advance.
"Bellsprout," he said softly, "you're just born. You'll get sleepy after drinking milk."
"Go ahead—take root and rest."
The nutrient soil had cost him 200 Poké Dollars, enough to support a Grass-type Pokémon for about a week of rest.
He had done everything he could.
Bellsprout nodded, stretched its root-like feet, and gently planted itself into the soil.
Not long after, it fell asleep.
Looking at the peacefully sleeping Bellsprout, Icarus turned off the lights and lay down as well.
"Good night," he whispered.
"See you tomorrow, Bellsprout."
---
(End of Chapter 6)