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Ralts watched Pikachu's hamster wheel of shame with a tilt of her head, blinking in pure confusion. She turned to David, her wide eyes practically screaming, What...exactly is happening right now?
David, catching the look, nodded sagely. "Ah, I see you're curious," he said, arms crossed like a wise old sage about to drop some life-changing philosophy. He knelt down, meeting Ralts' gaze with the seriousness of someone about to explain the secrets of the universe. "You see, Ralts, this right here? This is called responsibility."
Ralts blinked, glancing back at Pikachu, who was still trudging along in the hamster wheel, sparks crackling off his cheeks, eyes narrowed with the determination of someone who'd accepted his fate.
"Let me break it down for you," David continued, tapping his forehead like he was about to drop some ancient wisdom. "In this world, nothing's free. You want nice things? Hats? Treats? A roof that doesn't leak every time it drizzles? Then you've gotta put in the work!" He gestured dramatically at Pikachu. "Take Pikachu, for example. Look at him. That hat on his head? Fifty thousand Alliance coins. You think I just found that lying on the street? Nope! That was a hard-earned, bargain-brawling negotiation. And now Pikachu's paying off his little 'loan.' You see, it's all about work ethic!"
Pikachu, still running, shot David the kind of glare that could make a Gyarados think twice. "Pika…chu…" he grumbled, his voice low and full of regret. But he kept running, the hat bouncing with every step, pride and stubbornness refusing to let him quit.
Ralts tilted her head again, still not entirely getting it but nodding as if she understood. David took that as a win. He leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And you know what? One day, you'll get something nice too. But first, you gotta learn the value of hard work. That's called being...uh...self-sufficient! Yeah! Self-sufficient! The most glorious way to live!"
He straightened up, raising a fist triumphantly. "Labor for rewards! Work for the things you want! That's how society functions!" he declared with all the conviction of a motivational speaker who got paid upfront. Ralts blinked, processing the speech as if it were some kind of ancient prophecy.
Pikachu snorted mid-stride. "Pika pika…" he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. If he had hands, he'd probably be slow-clapping right now.
David turned back to Ralts, patting her gently on the head. "So, Ralts, when you want that shiny new hair clip or...I dunno, a cape or something, just know it's gonna take a little elbow grease. But trust me," he leaned in, voice softening, "it'll feel a lot better when you've earned it."
Ralts stared up at him with wide eyes, nodding slowly, even though she barely understood half of what he said. David, however, looked immensely proud of himself, like he'd just given the speech of a lifetime.
"Now," David clapped his hands together, "who wants to help me fix that leaky window?" Pikachu immediately shook his head, still jogging with the enthusiasm of someone whose legs might fall off. Ralts looked around, confused, but raised her little arm with a smile.
David beamed. "That's the spirit! You're gonna fit in just fine."
Pikachu just groaned, still jogging, eyes fixed forward like he was running from his life choices.
Seeing Ralts nod so eagerly, David couldn't help but grin like he'd just discovered a lifetime supply of Rare Candies. "Well," he declared dramatically, flopping back onto the sofa like a king on his throne, "Ralts, use Psychic to wash the dishes I didn't finish yesterday!"
Seeing Ralts nod so eagerly, David couldn't help but grin like he'd just discovered a lifetime supply of Rare Candies. "Well," he declared dramatically, flopping back onto the sofa like a king on his throne, "Ralts, use Psychic to wash the dishes you didn't finish yesterday!"
Ralts blinked up at him, wide-eyed. Pikachu, who was still trudging along in his hamster-wheel generator like some sort of medieval laborer, skidded to a stop and just stared at David. If he had hands, he would've clapped them to his cheeks in disbelief. "Pika...chu?!" (Are you serious?!) Pikachu's gaze practically screamed: She's barely three apples tall, and you're already putting her to work? Absolute beast!
David, blissfully unaware—or just entirely unbothered—stretched out even further on the couch, kicking his feet up like he was supervising a factory line. "This is why Psychic Pokémon are elite," he mused with a sigh. "Rich folks have 'em do all the housework. Dishes? Done. Vacuuming? Easy. Even mowing the lawn if you're creative enough."
Ralts tilted her head, her expression somewhere between confusion and mild horror. Dishes? Back at the salon, life had been all pampering and luxury. Fresh berries on silver platters, sparkling water, the occasional grooming session… Now this guy wanted her to wash dishes? The very concept sounded like it came from the Dark Ages.
David noticed her blank stare and scratched his head. "Oh...right. You've probably never even seen a dish, huh?" He smacked his forehead. "I forgot you're fresh out of luxury daycare. Alright, alright, let me show you."
He dragged himself off the couch with the enthusiasm of a Snorlax at sunrise and shuffled over to the kitchen. Ralts followed, levitating a few inches off the floor, clearly trying to figure out why dirty plates were suddenly part of her life. Pikachu, still in his hamster wheel, gave her a pitiful look as she floated by. "Pika..." (It's too late for you now...)
David plopped a crusty plate into the sink and turned on the faucet. "Alright, Ralts. This is water," he began like he was teaching a toddler. Ralts leaned in curiously, eyes sparkling with fascination. "And this—" he grabbed the dishcloth, holding it up like it was the Holy Grail, "—is a dishcloth. You wipe the plate with this until it's clean. Then," he squirted some soap, bubbles immediately foaming up, "you rinse it off. Easy peasy."
Ralts watched the demonstration with the intensity of someone observing a world-changing discovery. When he was done, David tossed the dishcloth onto the counter and dusted his hands. "Think you got it?"
Ralts nodded confidently, floating closer to the sink. "Lalu!" she squeaked, her eyes lighting up. Her tiny hands glowed with Psychic energy, and the dishes began to levitate, bobbing up and down like they were riding invisible waves.
David grinned proudly. "Look at that! My little housekeeper in training. Alright, you got this. I'm gonna...uh...supervise from over there." He gestured vaguely towards the couch and flopped back down, tossing an arm over his eyes like he'd just completed a grand feat of labor.
Pikachu, watching from his wheel, rolled his eyes so hard he nearly tipped over. He muttered under his breath, "Pika pika..." (He's gonna regret this...)
Back in the kitchen, Ralts had managed to soak half the dishes in water—plus the counter, the floor, and part of the wall. Plates wobbled dangerously, cups clattered against each other, and soap bubbles filled the air like it was some kind of rave. Ralts, for her part, seemed completely unfazed, humming happily as she maneuvered the cutlery mid-air.
David stretched, eyes still closed. "See? I knew she could handle it. Psychic powers and all that. Nothing to worry about."
David flopped back onto the sofa like he'd just conquered the Elite Four with only a Magikarp. He rubbed his hands together eagerly, a wicked grin spreading across his face. Today had been a goldmine. He'd walked around town, haggled his way through half a dozen shops, and annoyed more people than a door-to-door salesman with five free samples. He pulled up his system panel, ready to see the fruits of his chaos.
"Alright...let's see the damage."
His eyes nearly popped out of his skull.
[Negative Emotion Points: 13,435!]
David shot up from the sofa so fast that Pikachu nearly toppled off his hamster wheel. "Thirteen thousand four hundred and thirty-five?!" he yelped, blinking hard to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. "That's double what I got yesterday!"
Overcome with curiosity, he opened up the detailed breakdown of contributors. At the top of the list, like a grumpy king of negativity, was Inspector Nakamura. The man had forked over more than 3,000 points all on his own. "Not bad, Mr. Frowny Face," David chuckled, giving a mock salute to the screen. "You're a real team player."
Next up were the uncles from the Gardevoir shampoo parlor—each one tossing in nearly a thousand points apiece. "Man, those guys are practically ATMs for bad vibes," David mused, rubbing his hands together like a cartoon villain. "I should visit them more often. Maybe offer them a loyalty card."
And of course, there was Melissa, who had generously added to the total with that little misunderstanding earlier. David winced slightly, remembering the whole Durex-on-the-forehead incident. "Yeah...I'm definitely gonna have to lay low for a bit," he muttered, already picturing the next time she saw him.
Finally, there was the poor shopkeeper—the same guy David had swindled out of 80,000 Alliance coins and a Flash Ralts. "Five hundred points," David whistled lowly, shaking his head. "Guy's practically a walking piggy bank."
He tossed his phone onto the coffee table and stretched out like a Persian sunbathing. "Not bad...not bad at all." He'd saved enough money to make even a Rocket Grunt jealous, walked away with a shiny Ralts, and bagged over 13,000 negative emotion points in one day. "If I keep this up, I'll be living like a Gym Leader by the end of the month," he cackled to himself.
But he wasn't done yet. Oh no. David sat up, cracking his knuckles with dramatic flair. "Time to roll the dice," he announced to nobody in particular. "System, D-rank prize pool. Let's go for a nice, fat ten-pull!"
A giant, multicolored roulette wheel appeared in his mind, spinning wildly. David leaned back, arms crossed behind his head, practically vibrating with confidence.
[Spending 1,000 Negative Emotion Points. Ten consecutive draws in progress...][drip...drip...drip...][Draw Complete!][Congratulations! You've won: 'Thank You for Participating' x10!]
David stared at the screen. He blinked. He squinted. He rubbed his eyes. "Excuse me?" He read it again. Still the same: ten glorious "Thank You for Participating" cards, like the universe was giving him a middle finger wrapped in glitter.
He stared blankly for a moment, then let out a long, theatrical sigh, flopping back on the couch. "You know what? It's fine. It's fine!" he announced, hands waving dismissively. "I'm swimming in points. I can afford a few duds." He glanced at the system's balance—12,435 points left. "Plenty more where that came from," he smirked.
With the kind of bravado only the truly overconfident possess, David grabbed his phone and cranked up his "gacha theme song" playlist. The cheery, upbeat notes of Good Luck Comes burst from the speakers. "Good luck! I wish you good luck~" David sang along, bobbing his head with a grin that would make Meowth jealous. "Alright, System, let's spin it again! Hit me with another ten-pull!"
[Spending 1,000 Negative Emotion Points. Ten consecutive draws in progress...][drip...drip...drip...][Draw Complete!][Congratulations! You've won: 'Thank You for Participating' x10!]
The music kept playing, cheerful and obnoxiously optimistic. David sat perfectly still, his grin frozen in place. "...You've gotta be kidding me." He looked at his screen, then back at Pikachu, who had paused mid-sprint in his hamster wheel to watch the train wreck unfold. Pikachu tilted his head and shrugged as if to say, "Hey, it's your luck, not mine."
David rubbed his eyes and groaned. "Twenty pulls...twenty!" he grumbled. "Not even a lousy Potion or a berry. Just a whole lot of nothing." He flopped back onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. "Maybe I used up all my good karma snagging that Ralts..." he muttered, stroking his chin like he was cracking some grand mystery.
He stared at the screen, brow furrowing. "Nah," he said finally, shaking his head. "Can't be. I'm just warming up. That's all." He smacked his palms together and pointed at the screen. "System, I'm not giving up. I'll get my luck back. But I think I'll take a break...you know, let the RNG gods sort themselves out."
The system screen flickered mockingly, like it was daring him to try again. David, however, wasn't falling for it. "Yeah, nice try. I'll be back when I'm good and ready. Probably with some incense and a sacrifice," he added with a snort.
Pikachu snickered quietly from his wheel, shaking his head as he resumed running. "Pika pika..." (Told you so.)
David flopped back onto the sofa, his eyes still locked on the spinning wheel in his mind. "Next time," he whispered defiantly, "I'm hitting the jackpot. Mark my words."
Pikachu's snickers only got louder.
David was still stewing over his terrible luck with the lottery when the sound of crackling explosions ripped through his kitchen. It was like someone had set off a chain of firecrackers right next to his sink. He barely had time to process it before the whole house shook with a thunderous rumble, sending a vase teetering off the shelf.
David shot up from the sofa like he'd been electrocuted. "Ralts!!!" he yelled, sprinting barefoot across the floor, not even bothering with slippers. The cold tiles slapped against his feet as he dashed to the kitchen, heart pounding.
What greeted him was the aftermath of what could only be described as a kitchen apocalypse.
"Sweet Arceus..." David whispered, eyes wide.
Ceramic shards littered the floor like someone had just finished a particularly enthusiastic Greek wedding. Several tiles were missing from the kitchen wall, shattered and crumbling on the countertop. The faucet was hanging at an angle like it had just gone twelve rounds with a Machamp. A frying pan had somehow lodged itself into the wall, defying all logic and basic physics. Ralts stood in the middle of the chaos, hands still outstretched, eyes wide with pure, unfiltered confusion.
David blinked. "Ralts... you good?" he asked cautiously, half-expecting the little Psychic-type to explode again.
Ralts shook her head slowly, as if emerging from a daze. She started gesturing with her tiny hands, drawing invisible shapes in the air. David scratched his head, trying to make sense of it. "Wait... your Psychic... went haywire? And that's why you broke the bowl?"
Ralts nodded obediently, like that was the most logical conclusion in the world.
David's gaze swept across the wreckage—the shattered bowls, the cracked tiles, the frying pan still firmly embedded in his wall. His eyelid twitched. "That's a bit more than a broken bowl, you know," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This looks like a Wrecking Crew training session..."
He took a deep breath to steady himself, his eye still twitching uncontrollably. He could almost hear his wallet screaming from the other room. Psychic dishwashing was officially off the table. This wasn't cleaning. This was demolition. "Who would've thought trying to wash dishes would turn my kitchen into a construction site..."
As David took it all in, he felt his system pinging in the back of his mind.
[Obtained Negative Emotion Points +20 from David...][Obtained Negative Emotion Points +30 from David...][Obtained Negative Emotion Points +40 from David...]
"Oh, shut up," he snapped at the screen that only he could see.
But as much as he wanted to scream, David couldn't bring himself to blame Ralts. She was new to all this. It wasn't like she'd meant to reenact a Michael Bay movie in his kitchen. He knelt down, carefully checking her over for any scrapes or bruises. "You good? No scratches?"
Ralts nodded, still looking a bit shell-shocked but unharmed. David let out a long sigh of relief. "Well, at least you're not hurt. That's the important thing," he said, standing back up and surveying the damage again. "Not like Pokémon Hospital bills are cheap anyway..."
He paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "...Wait, no. That's not what I meant." He cleared his throat, straightening up. "I meant... your safety matters more than a couple of stupid bowls... Yeah, that."
He looked around the ruined kitchen and gave Ralts a wry smile. "But, uh... maybe we'll hold off on dish duty for a while, huh? I'd like to keep my house standing for at least another week or two."
He swept his gaze over the devastation one last time and took a deep breath. "Welp, there goes my weekend. Guess I'm on cleanup duty," he groaned, grabbing a broom and dustpan from the closet. He turned to Ralts, who still stood in the middle of the mess, poking a chunk of broken tile with her foot. "Alright, Ralts. Go hang out with Pikachu for a bit," David said with a wave of his hand. "Leave this disaster zone to me."
Ralts hesitated before nodding, waddling back into the living room where Pikachu was still jogging away on his hamster wheel, blissfully unaware of the carnage that had just unfolded. David could hear the two of them chattering away, Pikachu probably teasing Ralts about her dishwashing technique.
David, meanwhile, looked around the remains of his kitchen and shook his head. "This isn't dishwashing," he muttered to himself as he started sweeping up shards of ceramic. "This is kitchen remodeling. Who can afford this? Even a millionaire would go bankrupt at this rate."
He glanced back toward the living room, where Ralts and Pikachu were giggling like nothing had happened. "No more chores for you, Ralts," he sighed, shoveling ceramic chunks into the dustpan. "Unless you wanna work for an interior design company..."
It took David nearly four hours—four actual hours—to clean up the aftermath of Ralts' psychic dishwashing disaster. He went over every inch of the kitchen with military-level precision, sweeping up shards of ceramic, prying tiles out of cabinets, and even vacuuming the floor twice just in case a stray fragment decided to rebel.
"Can't have you two stepping on anything," David muttered as he inspected the floor for the third time. Pikachu sat on the counter, watching him work with a judgmental squint, like he couldn't believe someone would take that long to pick up a few pieces of broken bowl. Ralts, meanwhile, was happily munching on a berry, blissfully unaware of the chaos she'd unleashed.
Finally, when David was confident that not a single shard was left to ruin his day—or his bare feet—he flopped onto the sofa with a groan. "There," he sighed, stretching out. "Kitchen's back to...well, not normal, but it's not a warzone anymore."
Just then, it dawned on him. "Wait... I don't have any dishes left," he realized, staring at his empty kitchen cabinets like they'd personally betrayed him. "I can't eat dinner with my hands like Pikachu..."
He glanced over at Pikachu, who stopped mid-run on his hamster wheel, ears twitching. "What? I'm a civilized Pokémon," Pikachu's expression seemed to say. "I use cutlery...sometimes."
David chuckled and pulled out his phone, scrolling through the online shop. "Alright, new tableware it is," he muttered, quickly selecting a set and clicking "express delivery." "Delibird Express, don't fail me now..."
Pikachu watched with a mix of horror and disbelief. David caught his look and raised an eyebrow. "What?"
Pikachu just shook his head slowly. "I'm still reeling from the 'eat with my hands' bit..."
David ignored him and leaned back into the sofa, cracking his knuckles. "Alright," he grinned, eyes lighting up. "Time to finish what I started. Let's get back to that lottery."
With a dramatic flourish, David summoned the system panel. "We're going ten consecutive draws again! Let's burn off this bad luck!" he announced, like a gambler with way too much faith.
The screen flashed, and the wheel spun, each tick of the spinner filling the room with suspense.
[Spending 1000 Negative Emotion Points…][Lucky Draw in progress…][drip...drip...drip...]
David held his breath as the wheel slowed to a crawl. His eyes narrowed. "Come on... come on... something good..."
[Ding! Congratulations to the host for obtaining: Thank you for participating x8!]*[Items: Delicious Powder x10, Durex Ultra-Thin 0.01 Pack]
David stared blankly at the floating holograms that popped up in front of him. A tiny, unmarked plastic bag of Delicious Powder—whatever that was—and... a box of Durex Ultra-Thin 0.01. His face contorted into pure confusion. "What the..."
He rubbed his eyes, thinking maybe he was hallucinating. Nope. Still there. "Alright... I need answers," he said, poking the box of Durex like it might explode. "Why are you even in the prize pool? This is a Pokémon system, not... whatever this is supposed to be!"
He checked the description for Delicious Powder. "Guaranteed to enhance the flavor of any food, even the blandest berries become mouth-watering delights!"
David snorted. "Right... Because sprinkling mystery powder on my food sounds like a great idea." He tossed it on the table and stared back at the Durex, his mind still trying to process the logic. "And you... What are you even doing here? Is this the universe's way of mocking me?"
The system seemed to beep smugly.
[Obtained Negative Emotion Points +30 from David...]
[Obtained Negative Emotion Points +40 from David...]
[Obtained Negative Emotion Points +50 from David...]
David rubbed his temples. "Of all the things I could've pulled..." He glanced at Pikachu, who was now watching him with his tiny arms crossed, head tilted in absolute disbelief. "Hey, don't judge me," David said defensively. "It's the system, not me. Besides... it's...uh... practical?"
Pikachu facepalmed, ears drooping. David waved him off. "Look, just... mind your own business," he grumbled, shoving the box into a drawer labeled "Things I Don't Want To Think About Right Now."
With a deep breath, he sat back down, glaring at the system screen. "Okay... that was a disaster. But I'm not giving up. Not yet," he declared, fists clenched. "Let's get back to it."
But before he could hit the button for another round, he paused, eyes drifting back to the drawer where he'd stashed the Durex. "Seriously... why..."
Pikachu just shook his head and went back to running on his wheel, leaving David to question his life choices in silence.