After seeing Leon off, Summer returned to his cabin. Despite the chaos, he still thought highly of Galar's champion—after all, Leon actually took action when trouble arose.
Gigantamax Pokémon outbreaks, Eternatus's revival, and the appointment of a new League Chairman after Rose's surrender… Leon had been there for it all. Unlike some other champion, who seemed to vanish into thin air whenever a villainous team was about to plunge the world into chaos.
Still, Summer hadn't expected Leon to suggest turning Sunset Forest into something like the Battle Frontier. That idea wasn't just absurd to him—the Pokémon that lived here valued their peaceful lives, not constant battle.
"After all, they fight to protect their home, not to chase endless combat like some battle-obsessed lunatics."
Shaking his head, he reminded himself of another task.
"I should check in on the Pokémon that responded to the disturbance today. If it really had been a hostile intruder, their quick reaction would have been a lifesaver."
Of course, he couldn't show up empty-handed. His token of appreciation would be Kitakami's famous mochi.
Not the poisonous kind. That particular recipe belonged to the one who made it, and that culprit was currently in his hands.
Pecharunt.
Summer frowned, thinking about what to do with it. Without its twisted hunger for control, Pecharunt's warped personality had faded significantly. It had also lost its ability to manipulate others, making it far less dangerous than before.
While it had played a role in its companion's accidental time displacement, it hadn't intentionally hurt anyone. Its real crimes were theft, manipulating Ogerpon, and general greed.
"…The greed isn't really an issue. As long as it doesn't steal or cheat, it should be fine."
With that thought, Summer pulled out a Poké Ball and released Pecharunt.
As soon as it emerged, Pecharunt's instincts as a fruit-based Pokémon kicked in—the life energy flowing through the air felt pleasant to it. Yet despite this, it seemed… lost.
Born from the twisted desires of a king, Pecharunt had always been driven by an insatiable need for control. But now, with that hunger gone, it found itself adrift.
Aside from treasures, nothing else seemed to interest it.
Reflecting on its past, Pecharunt realized that all the loot it had stolen was long gone. The Pokémon it had bound in chains had all broken free—none had been twisted into its likeness.
For the first time, it felt empty.
Even if it disappeared tomorrow, the world wouldn't change.
A being that once obsessed over valuable treasures… was itself worthless.
Perhaps it would have been better to remain a forgotten doll, gathering dust, admired only for the sake of nostalgia.
Summer's voice snapped it out of its thoughts.
"Pecharunt, I think Ogerpon's beating was punishment enough. Right now, your only real passion is treasure hunting, isn't it?"
Pecharunt, still curled up in its shell, gave a slight nod.
Summer tilted his head. "What about friends? Do you think they have value?"
Pecharunt froze.
Friends?
What were friends?
What value did they have?
It had never had any.
Every connection it had ever made was forged through poison and chains.
A bitter chuckle escaped it.
So in the end… I really am just like him, huh?
The King of Paldea had been alone until the end, hoarding his riches in isolation.
Summer's voice cut through its self-mockery.
"In my opinion, friends and partners are priceless treasures—the kind worth protecting."
He raised a finger.
"So, I have a suggestion, Pecharunt. Try making friends. Or at least find something else you value—maybe a new hobby? Of course, that means no more bad behavior."
Pecharunt hesitated.
Me? Making friends?
A creature like me… could even have friends?
A hobby?
From the moment it was born, it had cared about only one thing—collecting treasure.
Could it really find joy in anything else?
The shell around its body cracked slightly.
For the first time, it looked directly at Summer—as if asking for confirmation.
"…Would you be my friend?"
Summer smiled. "Of course. As long as you don't cause trouble, I'd be happy to be your friend."
Was it really that easy?
Yet something in its hollow core suddenly felt full.
If it got into trouble, would Summer help it? And if Summer needed help, would it help him?
Yes…
Because that's what friends do.
Pecharunt made its decision. It would seek out more friends.
And first, it had some apologies to make.
"Ogerpon, Rillaboom, Hatterene, and Corviknight… I should start with them."
Summer nodded. "Seems like you've made up your mind. Welcome to Sunset Forest, Pecharunt. From now on, this is your home."
Outside the cabin, Ogerpon peeked through the doorway. It had spent who knows how long buried underground because of Pecharunt. And yet… they had spent so much time together.
Even after everything, some part of it still felt attached.
Watching Pecharunt now, it was stunned.
Was this really the same Pecharunt?
The once cunning, manipulative villain had somehow become… a harmless, naive peach.
Ogerpon, twirling the Feather of the Winged King in its hands, scoffed.
Tch. You guys are so dramatic.
Besides, you three have changed a lot too.
You looked way worse when you first crawled out of the ground.
Rillaboom nodded in agreement.
Summer had a way of changing people.
In an unknown location, a luxurious chamber sat in eerie silence. Ancient murals adorned the walls, depicting stories long forgotten.
A cold-eyed young man sat in an armchair, his expression twisting in irritation.
He scanned a newspaper, eyes darkening.
"Tch. Disobedient fools."
His fingers clenched, crumpling the paper into a tight ball. With a frustrated slam, he crushed it against the armrest.
Once his anger subsided, he stood and approached the murals on the wall. Pressing a specific symbol, a hidden door slid open.
A faintly transparent dragon-like Pokémon slithered behind him. The two entered a high-tech chamber, where a countdown ticked away.
"Three… two… one."
The room flickered to life, and five figures appeared on the screens.
An elderly scholar, a trench-coated enforcer, a masked woman, a blond researcher, and a hooded figure.
The scholar adjusted his glasses.
"Hmm. How rare… everyone actually showed up this time."
He cleared his throat.
"Well then… with Jaxon's arrest, we now have an empty seat on the council.
"Shall we discuss potential candidates?"
(End of Chapter)