While Ron was busy planning the farm, over at the Stardrop Saloon…
Gus was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables he'd brought back from the farm.
Emily pushed open the door and grabbed a broom, sweeping as usual.
"Afternoon," Gus called from the back.
Emily looked up—and saw him crouched before Snorlax, peeling an unfamiliar vegetable.
"What's that?"
"Asparagus." Gus kept peeling. Snorlax sat with its mouth wide open, waiting until it was full enough to crunch down everything in one go—then opened wide again just as Gus finished the next stalk.
"From the Farm?" Emily guessed instantly. When Gus nodded, she smiled and continued cleaning.
"Oh—happy birthday!" Gus added, setting aside the peeled Asparagus. "You can leave early today. And order anything you want for dinner—on the house."
"Snorlax~" Snorlax yawned lazily, as if offering its own birthday wish.
Touched, Emily walked over and rubbed Snorlax's belly. "Thank you… and thank you, Gus."
Gus chuckled, then remembered the farm news. "Ron's selling all his Kalos crops to me at 30G each."
Emily's eyes lit up. "He's really helping us out," she said softly, thinking of Ron.
She knew better than anyone how much Gus worried—the Saloon barely broke even.
Pam always ran up tabs, but thanks to Penny, she remained a major customer—alongside Clint and Shane.
Beer was their only real profit. Every dish used ingredients Pierre sold at outrageous markups.
But Beer? Gus brewed it himself.
"Will you lower menu prices?" Emily asked.
Gus paused. "Let's see how profits look first."
After all, feeding Snorlax was no small feat. Only its iron stomach—capable of digesting anything, even rotting scraps—kept the saloon afloat before Ron arrived.
"If there's surplus, I'll adjust prices," Gus said, slicing the Asparagus.
He hadn't opened the saloon just to make money. He wanted to see people enjoy his food, share stories, and find comfort here.
That's why he let Pam drink on credit.
Why he sometimes left meals in clean trash bins for those in need.
"Snorlax…" Snorlax scratched its belly and rolled over.
---
The next day—Spring 28…
The final day of spring. Ron was swamped.
He rose at dawn, reheated Gus's Pokémon meals, then rushed to the Nursery. Releasing all Fletchling, he directed them to harvest the last strawberries.
No watering needed today. Rattata headed to the mines with Geodude.
Combee, Froakie, and Oddish (now Level 20) would accompany him to Kalos after farm chores.
At the gate, Shane and Pam arrived.
The east gate was the main entrance. Though the south gate was closer to the ranch, Shane took the long way—to show respect—and bumped into Pam.
Two regulars from the saloon's drunk corner, they exchanged awkward glances and looked away.
"So lively," Pam murmured, watching Fletchling dart through fields and Geodude march out in formation.
Shane nodded.
Ron spotted them and hurried over. "Morning."
Pam fidgeted. "Uh… kid, what do you need me to do?"
Ron assigned tasks:
– Shane: Tend chickens, clean coop and Nursery.
– Pam: Manage the furnace, reheat meals, sell today's strawberries.
"If you have time, clear the harvested Strawberry vines," Ron added. "Pile or discard them—I won't be back until tomorrow. Here's your pay upfront."
He transferred wages, then added, "A Pokémon will hatch in the Nursery today. Catch it with a Poké Ball and keep it safe."
With that, Ron left—leaving Pam and Shane stunned.
Both were new to farm work. Shane, familiar with animals, headed straight to the coop.
Pam scratched her head, then trudged to the furnace, loading ore as instructed.
---
At the Beach…
Ron borrowed Willy's boat and sailed out. Once far enough, he used the system to teleport to Santalune Forest.
The moment he landed, shouting erupted nearby.
"That's your starter? A Fletchling?"
"So what?! Even Cyllage Gym Leader Grant said it's exceptional!"
A battle broke out. Ron saw his Fletchling facing a Fennekin. Two ten-year-olds glared at each other.
Miguel had bonded with his Fletchling. Seeing the other boy sneer, he commanded it fiercely.
Ron watched proudly as Fletchling dodged Fennekin's scratches and Ember.
Spotting Ron, it chirped—and launched a final Quick Attack. Fennekin collapsed.
The loser recalled his Pokémon, staring at Miguel's Fletchling like it was a ghost.
Fletchling were everywhere—common as pigeons! How was this one so strong?
"We did it!" Miguel cheered, hugging Fletchling. "See? Fennekin's nothing! This is Cyllage's special Fletchling—not some street stray!"
Ron paused, meeting Fletchling's eyes—then walked away.
His Pokémon's success filled him with quiet pride.
He checked Combee's stats. Thanks to his pre-departure "productivity push," it had gained significant Potential Points. Unsure of Viola's training focus, Ron had distributed points evenly across all stats.
This Combee was practically reborn.
He strode toward the gym.
---
Meanwhile, at Santalune Gym…
Viola stroked Orthworm's head, thinking of her Combee.
"I wonder how it's doing with Ron…"
She fed Orthworm an iron ore. It gulped it down, and she smiled. "He's probably taking good care of it…"
Orthworm had transformed the gym's botanical garden. Obsessed with tilling, it cultivated soil so rich the trees thrived.
Suddenly, Orthworm growled—whipping its head toward the entrance.
Viola looked up—
—and saw her Combee zooming straight at her. She stood, caught it mid-air, and staggered back, hugging it tightly.
"Long time no see, Combee…" She ran her hands over its body—and froze.
Something had changed. Her Combee felt… stronger.
She snapped her gaze to the door.
There stood Ron, gently scratching Orthworm's head as it nuzzled him.
Noticing her stare, he met her eyes and smiled.
"Long time no see, Viola."
"I've come to take this kid home."
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