There were quite a few Pokémon gathered by the lake. Max looked out and spotted a Psyduck sitting by the shore in a daze, its eyes just as empty and silly as they were in the games.
Nearby, he noticed several Buizel. Just as he was about to smile and show some goodwill, before he could even take the Oran Berry out of his hand, the Buizel scrambled away in a panic, clearly not wanting to get close to him.
Watching them disappear, Max couldn't help but sigh, feeling a bit disappointed.
Still, that wasn't the priority right now. The sun was already sinking, and he needed to settle both dinner and a place to sleep before night fully fell.
With that in mind, Max stopped dwelling on the Pokémon's aloofness.
He first surveyed the lakeside area and, with some regret, realized that he couldn't deploy the Pokémon Center here. Although the open space by the lake was technically large enough, it would be a very tight fit.
It would take up too much room and might interfere with the Pokémon coming to drink water.
That meant he'd have to camp outdoors tonight.
Fortunately, the System Shop sold camping kits, all made with Pokémon-world black technology. Setting up the tent was effortless. After that, he exchanged for a Good Rod and walked to the lakeshore to start fishing—albeit somewhat awkwardly.
"Streamer, where did you buy that tent? It unfolded so smoothly I didn't even realize it was set up."
"It set up that fast—are you sure it's sturdy? You should double-check it."
"Fishing without bait? You're definitely catching nothing."
"Streamer, let me teach you. You need to throw bait in first, then—"
"Then welcome your empty hands and maximum losses, right? Hahaha."
Seeing the chat teasing him, Max laughed.
"My fishing rod is different," he said. "It's not meant for ordinary fish."
"Pokémon won't bite a hook without bait either."
"This is black technology. You guys wouldn't understand," Max muttered, not daring to argue too loudly. He was just trying it out anyway. In the games, fishing never required bait—didn't you just cast the rod and wait for a Pokémon to bite?
Still, he wasn't entirely confident. Reality wasn't as absurd as a game, after all. Maybe… bait really was needed?
What kind of bait would attract Pokémon? Poffins?
He didn't have any, and the shop didn't sell finished ones yet—only a blueprint for a Poffin Maker.
It probably required another system upgrade.
"Even if you don't think much of what I catch later," Max thought for a moment, then smiled mischievously, "don't be too shocked when you see it."
Although nothing had bitten yet, he felt it would most likely be a Magikarp. After all, Magikarp were everywhere—absurdly common.
While waiting, he watched the chat chatter among themselves.
"Did you guys see those yellow ducks over there? They look so vacant and dumb."
"Hey, one of them just stepped on another one's tail."
"Holy crap, they're fighting!"
"Wait—why does it look turn-based? Are they being polite?!"
Max hadn't noticed it at first, but now he joined in watching the spectacle.
Among the group of Psyduck, two were fighting—or rather, playing. One raised its hand and struck, and the one that got hit froze for a moment, tilted its head as if thinking, then raised its hand and struck back.
They went back and forth a few times. Whether they made up or simply forgot why they were fighting, no one knew—but soon they inexplicably separated and sat back down, continuing to stare blankly into space.
"Hahaha, so dumb."
"They look vacant and silly—easy to raise, right? Streamer, aren't you going to introduce them?"
Only then did Max remember he hadn't done that yet.
"Those Pokémon are called Psyduck," he said. "They're Water-type Pokémon, and for the most part, they're very safe and harmless."
"For the most part? Do they ever go crazy?"
"Although they look vacant and silly," Max explained slowly, "they actually have an aptitude for Psychic-type powers. Because of that, Psyduck constantly suffer from headaches. This is a result of them being unable to control the Confusion energy inside their bodies."
"Whenever a Psyduck uses Confusion, it gets a headache, so most of the time they try to avoid acting at all and just stay spaced out. But if it's suppressed for too long, there will eventually be a moment when they lose control."
"When a Psyduck's Confusion goes out of control, it releases extremely powerful force. Afterward, it doesn't remember anything that happened during the eruption."
"However, there are warning signs. Before losing control, a Psyduck usually experiences intense headaches. The worse the pain, the stronger the eventual outburst will be. For example…"
Max scanned the group—and spotted one Psyduck clutching its head, its expression twisted in agony.
"Look at that one."
Boom!
Before the viewers could even locate it, a pale pink shockwave suddenly erupted from within the group. With that Psyduck at the center, uncontrolled Confusion blasted outward. The once-calm lake surface shattered instantly, waves crashing violently in all directions!
"Quack! Quack! Quack!!!"
The sudden outburst sent the surrounding Psyduck flying. Some landed hard on their backsides, while others splashed straight into the lake, becoming unfortunate "drowned ducks."
Fortunately, the eruption couldn't be sustained. In the blink of an eye, the Psyduck returned to normal. Standing alone at the center, it had already forgotten what just happened. Seeing its companions scattered everywhere, it tilted its head in confusion.
"Quack?"
The chat exploded instantly. Countless lurkers emerged, flooding the screen with messages.
"That was caused by that silly duck?!"
"If that hit a person, would they survive?!"
"I have nothing to say except 'holy crap'…"
"If you ever want to coexist with a Psyduck," Max said calmly at the right moment,
"you must pay close attention to its expression. If you notice it looking extremely distressed, take it to a safe place immediately."
"As long as you observe carefully, you don't need to worry about sudden eruptions hurting you. Psyduck can suppress it for a short time, but the longer it's suppressed, the more painful it becomes—and the stronger the eventual release."
"Can humans really coexist peacefully with creatures like this…?" someone asked doubtfully.
"We can," Max replied with a smile. "I'll say it again: as long as you show them a little goodwill, they'll return it with great kindness."
As he spoke, he pulled a Psyduck out of the ground nearby—it had landed headfirst and gotten stuck. Smiling, he gently patted the three silly tufts of hair on its head.
"Go on back now."
The Psyduck finally freed itself. The moment its short webbed feet touched the ground, it waddled toward its companions.
Halfway there, it seemed to remember that it had just received a Helping Hand. It turned back, quacked a few times toward Max as if thanking him, then continued running off.
That vacant yet sincere gesture instantly won over countless viewers.
"It's actually pretty smart—it even knows how to say thanks after getting help."
"It can't help losing control, right? When you think about it that way, it's kind of pitiful…"
"I think I could accept that flaw. If I had the chance, I'd be willing to raise a Psyduck."
Watching the chat's reaction, Max smiled in satisfaction. After a long day, he was finally seeing results—his efforts hadn't been in vain.
"Flog!"
Just then, an unfriendly Growl sounded from behind him, tinged with unmistakable anger.