"It's nothing serious, just a few scratches from some Rattata and a bit of a chill from the cold morning. This Eevee hasn't been alive long, so its resistance is still weak. Chansey, use Healing Pulse," Rosa concluded after a careful examination.
"Lucky~"
The pink, egg-shaped Pokémon extended its small hands, gathering energy. A soft pink psychic wave infused with life energy enveloped the Eevee.
The shallow wounds on Eevee's body healed at an astonishing speed, as if by magic.
This was one of the reasons Ethan found this world so utopian. With such advanced healing techniques that surpassed even the best medicine from his previous life, there was much less suffering here.
Moreover, for some unknown reason, Pokémon seemed to have two lives.
No matter how devastating the move used in a battle, a Pokémon could only be knocked out at most. Even if a Champion's Pokémon attacked a Bug Catcher's Caterpie, the outcome would be the same.
This was the ethical foundation for why real-world Pokémon battles were universally accepted—so long as trainers refrained from unethical actions like "finishing off" a Pokémon, there was no danger of losing its life in battle.
Eevee's wounds healed quickly. With one Healing Pulse, it was completely restored.
But the little Eevee refused to leave Ethan's arms, snuggling against him as if it had no intention of parting.
"She seems to really like you. Why don't you make it official and take her in? You're heading into your final year of high school, and you don't even have a starter Pokémon. This Eevee seems perfect, and didn't you always want one?" Rosa suggested with a stretch, oblivious to how her graceful figure was displayed in full view of the young man.
Ethan cleared his throat, tilting his head slightly as if seriously considering her proposal.
"Eevee!"
The little Pokémon cried out energetically, its demeanor full of excitement—it was as direct as it could be.
"I'm willing!"
Eevee's intentions were clear; all that was left was Ethan's decision.
Ethan mulled it over.
The Pokémon was one he'd always wanted, and it seemed to have good synergy with him. Aside from its inexplicable attachment to him, everything about it was perfect.
And attachment wasn't necessarily a bad thing—it at least hinted at a strong bond with its trainer, right?
Coupled with the inexplicable connection he felt the first time he saw it, perhaps this was the serendipity of meeting one's starter Pokémon.
Plus, the money he'd save by not purchasing a Pokémon could go towards Eevee's care and training. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a win-win situation.
With that, Ethan lowered his gaze to Eevee, speaking seriously:
"Eevee, would you like to be my Pokémon?"
"Eevee!"
The response was immediate and enthusiastic. Eevee's long ears quivered with excitement, and its small head bobbed up and down as if it couldn't agree more.
Although Ethan had anticipated this answer, he still felt a sense of relief. He smiled and lifted Eevee high into the air.
"Well then, I'll be counting on you from now on!"
"Eevee!"
Eevee didn't like staying in its Poké Ball. After entering once to confirm its status as Ethan's Pokémon, it refused to go back inside.
Ethan didn't mind. Eevee was small and fluffy, easy to carry, and cuddly enough to deepen their bond.
Cradling his new partner, Ethan returned to his original plan—heading to the market.
Technically, registering a Pokémon and completing other formalities at the Trainer Association was essential.
But food came first. If they delayed any longer, the best ingredients would be gone. Ethan was determined to make Eevee's first meal a memorable one.
With himself, Eevee, Rosa, and her Snivy, there were four mouths to feed for lunch. But considering Snivy and Eevee probably had small appetites, Ethan figured four dishes and a soup would suffice.
Besides braised sea cucumber, he could let Eevee choose the rest of the menu.
At the market, Ethan pointed to the rows of seasonings on the shelves.
"Sour, sweet, salty, or spicy—which do you like?"
Pokémon usually had distinct taste preferences, as did the berries they relied on for energy. Most Eevee liked sweet foods, but there were always exceptions—like people who didn't enjoy spicy food despite living in regions known for it.
Eevee leapt gracefully onto the shelf, using its fluffy tail to point first at salt, then at a flavor enhancer.
Ethan's eyes lit up. Salty and savory? A perfect match for his own tastes!
He remembered a saying from his past life: sometimes, shared tastes matter more than shared values in a relationship.
This applied just as much to trainers and their Pokémon. While energy cubes existed, Ethan preferred to cook meals for his Pokémon himself.
With Eevee's preference clear, Ethan finalized the lunch menu.
For Snivy, a tangy and nutritious sweet-and-sour Pangoro Fruit Pork. For Rosa, her favorite Lum Berry Chicken.
For Eevee, a delicate and flavorful salted pork soup. And to round it off, a refreshing eggplant-and-tomato soup.
In the short half-hour they spent shopping, Ethan was already smitten with his clever and adorable partner.
Eevee helped him choose fresh ingredients with its keen sense of smell, charmed vendors to lower prices with its cuteness, and even helped lighten his load by using its head to support the weight of heavy bags.
By the time they returned home, Ethan couldn't help but think, What did I do to deserve such a wonderful little partner?
At home, Ethan prepared the ingredients, his enthusiasm soaring.
Looking at the spread of fresh groceries, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. None of these dishes had been featured in his cooking videos yet. Should he record them all?
Four dishes meant four videos. Even if he didn't upload them all at once, having them ready felt satisfying.
Since starting his cooking channel during winter break, Ethan's viewership had grown exponentially.
His videos combined expert techniques from his past life's renowned chefs with dishes unique to this world or elevated by his skill.
In every world, food remained one of life's greatest joys, and Ethan's quick rise to fame seemed inevitable.
If only Rosa were a better camerawoman, Ethan was sure he could become one of the top creators by year's end.
(Chapter ends.)