"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
The knocking on the door grew louder in Shiro's ears, as if the person would force their way in if he didn't open it soon.
"Hiss..."
Shiro was forced awake, his mind fully alert, though his limbs still ached. However, it wasn't anything serious.
The physical resilience and recovery ability of humans in the Pokémon world was far superior to that of Earthlings.
"Coming, coming!"
Shiro quickly ran downstairs while shouting, and the person knocking seemed to have heard his voice, pausing and waiting.
Although Shiro wasn't sure who was at the door, anyone who would keep knocking instead of breaking in definitely wasn't one of those Team Yell thugs. Besides, he had nothing on him now, nothing worth stealing.
The door opened to reveal a chubby man with a scruffy beard and a mohawk, a strip of pink hair standing stiffly in the middle. Dressed in a gray uniform, clearly a member of Team Yell.
"Uncle Rabby?"
Shiro recognized him as one of his father's old friends from his memories.
"Shiro? Hurry up and come in, hurry up..."
Rabby urged, pushing his way inside and closing the door behind him. He quickly stepped over the scattered mess and made his way to a relatively intact white marble table.
"I know things haven't been going too well for you lately, but this is just the daily routine of Spikemuth. Your father always protected you too well..."
As Rabby spoke, he pulled out three Poké Balls from his coat.
"You and I know each other, and I'm practically your uncle. I have to help you somehow..." Rabby placed the three Poké Balls on the table and added, "These Pokémon were training partners that the Gym Leader used for Miss Marnie's Pokémon. They were discarded after being deemed unfit for further training, so I secretly took them. You can pick one."
"Discarded training partners?"
Shiro muttered, his brows furrowing.
Most of the Gym's training partners were wild Pokémon caught for the purpose of sparring. Marnie was still young, and her Pokémon weren't too strong, so the training partners were usually weak wild Pokémon.
As for being discarded, that meant they had been injured during training and were no longer useful, so they were thrown away.
Shiro couldn't help but glance at Rabby.
'As a full-fledged member of Team Yell, couldn't he at least put in the effort to catch a healthy wild Pokémon instead?'
Rabby seemed to read Shiro's thoughts. He sighed, clutching his stomach.
"Sigh... Do you think catching Pokémon is that easy? I'm weak, you know... Besides, the moment I heard what happened to you, I rushed over. I was worried you'd do something reckless. I didn't have time to find you a better Pokémon. Shiro, just make do with one of these for now."
After speaking, he pushed the Poké Balls toward the center of the table and introduced them one by one.
"These three are Blipbug, Skwovet, and Rookidee. You can release them and interact with them, but they're injured, so they might be a bit aggressive. Be careful."
Shiro examined the Poké Balls carefully before asking, "Can't I take all of them?"
"Of course not!" Rabby waved his hand. "There are two others besides you, people who were in the same squad as your father when he died."
'Two others? They died with my father? But how?' Shiro had no memory of how his father had died.
He was filled with confusion but, noticing Rabby's sorrowful expression, he decided to hold back his questions for now.
Peering through the semi-transparent red tops of the Poké Balls, Shiro saw the three Pokémon inside. Each one was glaring angrily, ready to charge out.
Among the three, Blipbug seems partially paralyzed, unable to move its lower half. Skwovet had a soft, bushy tail that was now patchy, while Rookidee had a broken wing.
Looking at their injuries, it was clear that Skwovet had the lightest wounds and would likely recover the quickest, forming a fighting force soon. However, it kept showing its teeth, looking the most aggressive of the three.
Blipbug was clearly not an option, and Rookidee seemed to be watching cautiously, its injured wing tucked protectively.
More importantly, Shiro knew that Rookidee's final evolution, Corviknight, was a Pokémon with significant status in the Galar region. Not only was it strong and majestic in appearance, but its historical significance made it a symbol of Galar.
If Shiro hadn't played Sword and Shield and raised a Rookidee into Corviknight himself, he would have never guessed that this common bird Pokémon evolved into such a powerful creature.
"I choose Rookidee." Shiro decided after a moment's thought.
"Rookidee, huh? Alright, it's yours then. I've done what I can to help..." Rabby said, putting away the other two Poké Balls while muttering to himself, ready to leave.
"Wait! Uncle Rabby." Shiro called, stopping him.
"Could you do me one more favor? You must have some healing spray, right? Could I borrow some?"
Rabby paused, one hand on his large belly and the other scratching his mohawk, his brows furrowing in hesitation.
Shiro could tell that Rabby wasn't eager to lend him the spray, but he also confirmed that Rabby had it.
He quickly added, "Uncle, if you can help, please do. In exchange, feel free to take anything you want from this house. How about that for a bottle of healing spray?"
Rabby's eyes quickly scanned the room, and he immediately caught on to Shiro's offer. He sighed deeply.
"Ah, you clever kid! Fine, I'll give you a bottle of healing spray, but just so you know, anything useful in here is mine. I'll be back in a couple of days to pick things up."
As he spoke, Rabby reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of white spray, handing it over to Shiro.
Shiro took it with a careful hand, inspecting it thoroughly, causing Rabby to complain, "Still don't trust your uncle, huh?"
"Heh, of course I trust you. Now hurry up and go, there are two others waiting for you!" Shiro smiled, assuring Rabby, before swiftly ushering him out the door.
"Bang!"
The door slammed shut as Shiro quickly locked it again. Only then did he turn back to the white marble table.
Shiro was certain that his uncle wasn't acting out of goodwill. Even though Rabby had given him a Pokémon, it was clear there were ulterior motives.
Three injured, weak Pokémon—rejected by the Gym Leader, used as sparring partners. Even though they were in Shiro's hands now, it was unlikely that the Gym would pursue the matter. But in normal circumstances, where would these discarded Pokémon end up?
Shiro immediately thought of the starving youths at the bottom of society.
'They must have been talking about these Pokémon in the streets earlier.'
This was their only chance to get their hands on a Pokémon. Now, that opportunity had been cut off by Rabby and placed into his hands.
If someone had deliberately spread the word, those youths would likely come after him. And there was also the trouble with the other two.
But he couldn't just leave the Pokémon unused.
Shiro thought it over, holding the Poké Ball firmly and pressing the button.
"Come out, Rookidee!"
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