While Froakie was eating, Ron wandered around the farm, crunching on a loaf of bread.
He inspected the work Orthworm and Geodude had done that morning.
They hadn't plowed neat, orderly furrows as he'd originally hoped—but Orthworm's sheer size meant the soil it had loosened was already perfectly aerated and ready for planting.
Ron dug his fingers into the soft earth, mentally calculating when to expand his planting area.
Parsnips took four days to mature. The fifteen he'd planted on Monday would only start yielding profits come Friday.
At 35G each, the harvest would bring in 525G—modest, but vital.
Doing the math in his head, Ron stuffed the rest of his bread into his mouth, pocketed his remaining coins, and headed straight for town.
He followed the path to Pierre's General Store and glanced at the sign posted beside the door:
Open Monday–Sunday, 9:00 AM – 5:00 PM.
Good, Ron thought. No JojaMart means no arbitrary store closures. He wouldn't have to worry about whether the shop was even open when he needed seeds.
He pushed the door open.
Inside, Pierre was bustling between shelves, directing Abigail—and her Gengar—as they restocked goods.
"Abigail! Keep an eye on Amber!" Pierre scolded, placing a seed packet on a high shelf. "If it causes any more trouble, I'm docking your allowance!"
"Hey! That's unfair!" Abigail protested.
Gengar, balancing a box on its head, teleported it onto the shelf—then vanished into the racks with a mischievous grin.
"If you're going to keep it, you're responsible for its actions," Pierre grumbled. Just as he reached for another item, a pair of glowing red eyes popped out from behind a shelf.
"Abigail!"
Grumbling, Abigail pulled out a Poké Ball—then spotted Ron entering. "Hey! Ron! Afternoon!"
"Afternoon. I'm here for some seeds," Ron said, watching as Pierre tumbled backward in fright and Gengar rolled on the floor laughing. He picked up the seed packet that had fallen from Pierre's hands.
Pierre quickly brushed himself off, stood up, and put on his best customer-service smile. "Ah, good afternoon, Farmer! Looking for anything in particular?"
"Some seeds," Ron said. "Do you have a price list? I'd like to see it."
"Of course, of course!" Pierre handed him a sheet listing all available spring seeds and their prices.
Ron scanned it quickly. No berry seeds—just as expected. His eyes returned to the standard crops.
He had 800G left. After a moment's thought, he spent it all on parsnip seeds.
Compared to slower-growing crops, parsnips were the obvious choice—they'd generate income fastest. Even if he didn't sell them, they'd pair perfectly with the fish he caught to stretch meals.
And to keep Geodude and Orthworm from trampling his fields, Froakie would have to stay behind. Since it was already handling watering duties, this arrangement freed Ron to focus entirely on fishing—until he'd saved enough startup capital.
Pierre took Ron's money, opened a seed sack, and carefully counted out forty parsnip seeds.
"Come by often!" he said warmly—then, after a pause, added five more with a smile. "On the house."
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it." Pierre glanced toward the vegetable section. "I'm really glad you're reviving the old farm."
The farm had always been one of his biggest clients. Back when Ron's grandfather was alive, seed sales alone brought in solid profits every year.
Thinking of that, Pierre gave Ron a genuinely pleased smile.
Back at the farm, Ron planted the new seeds.
Then he headed for the beach—but on the way, he detoured into the library to deliver the footage he'd recorded for Gunther.
Gunther was sorting papers when Ron entered. He lit up, took the memory card from the camera, and immediately handed Ron a fresh one.
"Thank you," Gunther said, sliding the card into his computer. The screen showed crisp footage of Remoraid—and Krabby in action. He pulled out a notebook labeled Observation Log.
"I'll transfer your payment once I finish transcribing this," he said, eyes glued to the screen. He passed Ron a separate booklet. "Here's the recording guideline—I compiled it in a rush yesterday. You don't need to memorize it; just get a general sense of what kind of footage I need."
Ron flipped through the dense pages—eyebrows rising at the meticulous detail.
Noticing his expression, Gunther adjusted his glasses. "Well… the library doesn't have much funding. If this were easy money, Sebastian would've grabbed the camera and run off days ago."
Each requested observation type came with a specific payout.
Ron could practically picture Gunther hunched over his desk, frugally assigning exact prices to every scrap of data.
"…Alright," Ron said, tucking the booklet away. "If I ever get complete field notes, I'll bring them directly."
That would be far faster than filming.
All he needed was a way to Kalos—then a visit to a Pokémon lab or library would give him access to comprehensive data.
"That would be perfect," Gunther said, finally looking up.
Ron swapped in the new memory card and continued to the beach.
He'd considered fishing in the Mines or Cindersap Forest ponds—but after the Remoraid incident, he decided safety lay with Willy's Krabby.
At the fish shop, he found a spot out of the way, cast his line, and began fishing.
By 4:00 PM, Lewis strode in cheerfully. "Afternoon, Willy! Got good news—Kalos merchants just placed an order for a batch of sardines!"
Ever since re-establishing contact with Kalos, Lewis had been actively reconnecting with former trading partners.
He didn't know why Kalos suddenly had such high demand for seafood—but he knew it meant massive profits for Pelican Town. And frankly, some things didn't need explaining.
Like: Where was Kalos, really?
How had Ron's grandfather traveled there?
And how could a machine in a backroom teleport goods to a place that didn't exist on any map?
None of it mattered.
As long as it made money—that was enough.
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