Pierre froze, his eyes locking onto Joy—the girl surrounded by townsfolk.
The next second, he heard her declare, clear and firm:
"Poké Balls for only 300G! Plus all kinds of Pokémon dicine—Potions, status healers—you na it!"
Pierre's eyes bulged.
He'd heard a girl from Kalos had arrived—soone who looked exactly like the old Joy.
But he never imagined she'd bring Kalos-priced Poké Balls with her.
His mind raced—calculating his inventory, his costs, how many he'd need to sell at what price just to break even.
By then, cheers erupted from the crowd.
Before Pierre could finish his math, every potential custor had already abandoned his stall.
"Wait! Hold on!" he called after one man. "I can go lower! Hey—don't leave! Do you really think she has Poké Balls? This is the last discount—prices go up tomorrow!"
But no one turned back.
As the crowd dispersed, Pierre scanned the empty space in despair—then glared at Lewis, who stood nearby, utterly uninvolved.
After a beat, Pierre said, "I've already sold a few Poké Balls…"
Lewis turned, waiting.
"So… would you be willing to buy them back at 150,001G?" Pierre asked, rubbing his hands together.
Without a word, Lewis walked away.
"149,999 is fine too—hey!"
Watching Lewis disappear, Pierre slumped back into his chair, defeated.
Ron shifted his gaze from Pierre to Joy. "Since when?"
"Yesterday," Joy said. "I cleaned the Center and saw the store interface on the computer."
She'd never planned to run a shop.
But seeing that 4,900G price tag? She couldn't stay silent.
Everyone deserved the right to have a Pokémon.
Poké Balls should never be luxury items.
She exhaled, then rembered sothing else:
The Pokémon Center had seen no visitors—not because people didn't care, but because they had no Pokémon to bring.
"This is so unfair!" Joy fud. "People shouldn't be this cruel!"
She couldn't even summon harsh words—just shot Pierre a glare and huffed loudly.
Ron patted her shoulder, saying nothing.
anwhile, Lewis stepped to the center of the festival grounds.
With nearly everyone bringing their Pokémon, the air buzzed with chirps, squawks, and playful barks.
Gengar chased Combee; Natu flitted alongside Fletchling; Sunkern tumbled with Oddish.
Pelican Town hadn't felt this lively in years.
Past Flower Dances were quiet affairs—no Pokémon allowed, just a handful of youths dancing the sa tired routine, year after year.
Lewis took a deep breath—and announced the festival officially open.
At the edge of the clearing, Pierre perked up. He pulled out bundles of flowers, ready to jack up prices for love-struck suitors.
It always worked.
On this day, standing alone was embarrassing—so everyone paid for flowers to secure a dance partner.
Even Clint played along… though he never dared actually give his bouquet away.
As Pierre scribbled on flyers, he caught Lewis's voice:
"This year, no paired dancing required!" Lewis added with a wink. "Dance with Snorlax if you want!"
Far off, Snorlax paused mid-bite, looked up, and pointed at itself in confusion.
"Snorlax?"
Gus patted its head. "Never mind. Keep eating."
Snorlax shrugged and resud devouring its mountain of food.
Gus's cooking had drawn a crowd—Rattata, Fearow, and more circled the feast.
"Snorlax…" It glanced between its food and the newcors.
Every year, Gus prepared this al so Snorlax wouldn't sit bored at the saloon.
Now, it faced a dilemma: hoard or share?
After a long pause, it pushed a portion forward.
"Snorlax—"
The Pokémon exchanged glances—then dug in with happy cries.
Ron watched from afar and added his own packed food to the pile.
Gus sniffed Ron's bread. "What's in this?"
"Pecha Berry," Ron explained. Sweet, fragrant—perfect for baking. Even better with jam.
Gus tasted it, then nodded approvingly.
Snorlax eyed Ron's contribution hungrily.
Rattata confird the food was for sharing—and generously passed it around.
As the Pokémon mobbed the feast, Ron and Gus stepped back.
"These Berries—you selling them?" Gus asked.
Gabriel had grown Berries too—but only processed them into Pokémon food.
Now, as human ingredients? They seed promising.
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