Chapter Seventy-Eight: Gengar's Grievance

“Mr. Fujiyama, Charmander’s injuries haven’t fully healed yet, so you might want to keep the training intensity low,” Heath said, handing over a large bag of food he had prepared for Mr. Fujiyama.

As a token of appreciation, Heath had even made a few extra pieces of chicken breast, knowing how much Mr. Fujiyama liked them. This was, after all, a man of strict self-discipline.

“Heh, of course I know. Don’t worry, I’ve already warned him. By the way, if you have time, remember to buy some protein powder. It’s actually quite helpful for building muscle,” Mr. Fujiyama advised Heath before leaving with his Machamp.

Heath watched Mr. Fujiyama walk away, then looked down at Charmander, who was diligently working on its chest muscles. Smiling, Heath reached out to rub its head.

The sensation was delightful—warm and just a bit hotter than human skin.

“Charmander, here’s some water mixed with protein powder. Remember to drink it after your workout,” Heath said, setting the drink aside before standing up to await other customers.

“Heath, do you have anything good for breakfast?” Mrs. Lorrie approached, looking tired, a dark circle under her eye.

“For breakfast, I recommend this,” Heath replied, pointing to the large sign for his crispy beef noodles hanging outside the food cart. For now, he hadn’t planned any other breakfast options.

“Noodles, huh…” Mrs. Lorrie gazed at the sign with lifeless eyes, lost in thought. Behind her, a Gengar emerged, grinning widely as it drifted toward Heath.

Heath smiled at the Gengar, rolled up his sleeves with practiced ease, and resumed his usual game of rock-paper-scissors with it.

Once again, Gengar lost, as always. Heath calmly made a tally in his notebook while Gengar looked on in frustrated annoyance.

“Oh dear, Gengar, you lost again,” Heath teased. Gengar’s expression was especially comical in its dismay. Heath couldn’t help but think the Pokémon had the worst luck—how could it lose at rock-paper-scissors so many times?

Gengar slunk away in silent misery. Heath could almost see it sobbing behind Mrs. Lorrie’s back, like a child denied a treat.

Mrs. Lorrie shot Heath a glare—he’d made her Gengar cry again. She sighed. Just earlier that night, Gengar had been a terror at a Pokémon poacher’s base, laying waste to criminals, yet a simple game of rock-paper-scissors could reduce it to tears. It was baffling.

Strangely, Mrs. Lorrie recalled how, back at the poachers’ base, Gengar especially delighted in cornering wrongdoers, then playing rock-paper-scissors with them. If they lost, it would tie them up; if they won, it would slap them across the face, muttering incantations all the while.

“Ahem… Mrs. Lorrie, may I ask what you’d like to eat?” Heath asked, forcing a smile. He wondered if he should purposely let Gengar win next time, perhaps by always choosing scissors.

“I’d like something else. Do you have any other breakfast options?” Mrs. Lorrie yawned. She resolved to have a word with Heath about always bullying her Gengar, but for now, she was simply too tired and just wanted something to fill her stomach.

Noticing her exhaustion, Heath suddenly thought of the Dream Microphone he’d recently acquired. If he used it, would Mrs. Lorrie fall asleep right in front of him?

Wait a minute—Mrs. Lorrie was married. That scenario sounded suspiciously familiar, as if he’d read it somewhere before.

Heath shook his head vigorously. He must be out of his mind, daring to entertain such thoughts in front of Mrs. Lorrie.

“As for breakfast…” Heath hesitated. He didn’t have many breakfast options—apart from crispy beef noodles and savory pancakes, he hadn’t prepared or sourced ingredients for anything else.

“Forget it, just give me a savory pancake,” Mrs. Lorrie said, seeing his dilemma and waving her hand dismissively.

Heath nodded, quickly prepared a pancake for her, and collected her payment.

“By the way, I found this while wandering around today—here, it’s for you.” Mrs. Lorrie handed Heath a small bag. Curious, he peeked inside. It was filled with small white things that looked like mushrooms.

Heath didn’t ask where she’d been—he knew that her so-called ‘wandering’ usually meant going out on a mission. He’d long since learned not to question it.

“What are these? They look like wild mushrooms,” he mused, examining the contents of the bag.

Heath immediately pulled out his ingredient identifier to see what exactly she’d given him.

“Termitomyces, non-toxic and edible, delicious when cooked. Recommended to be eaten after thorough preparation,” the device read.

He slapped his forehead. So that’s what it was—wild termitomyces. He’d eaten plenty of them before, though always prepared; he’d never actually seen them raw.

Looking at the mushrooms in his hand, Heath remembered a dish he’d once tried: sautéed termitomyces, a treat that could be kept for a while and used much like pickled vegetables.

Sautéed termitomyces were wonderfully tasty—the perfect companion to a bowl of rice. Heath was surprised to find wild mushrooms like these even in the Pokémon world.

“Seems like this will come in handy in the future. I just wonder when the identifier will upgrade.” Heath was increasingly satisfied with his ingredient identifier.

“Hello, do you have anything to eat?” A gentle voice called out. Heath looked up to see a girl he didn’t recognize.

“We have savory pancakes, egg fried rice, and crispy beef noodles. What would you like?” he asked, noting her red hair.

All sorts of hair colors existed in the Pokémon world, so Heath wasn’t surprised, but red hair was still rather rare in Evergreen City.

“Could you make me a dish without any meat, but which tastes just like meat—and is delicious? I’ll only pay you if it tastes good,” the girl said with a mischievous smile. Her eyes, too, were red.

Heath was taken aback. Was she here to make trouble? No meat, but tastes like meat, and must be delicious? Wasn’t that just setting him up for failure?