Chapter 6: Welcome

  The door creaked open, and before I could say “hello,” I was met with my grandmother’s stern gaze. Her eyes narrowed with a suppressed fury that shook my resolve. I was still reeling from everything that had happened at the Academy—my hastily bandaged arm, my mind reeling with images of the library. My breathing was ragged, as if I had run up all the stairs at once. My grandmother, Julia, usually greeted people with a smile that creased her face in an almost adorable way, but right now, there wasn’t even a trace of sweetness. An oppressive aura emanated from her, so tangible that I had a hard time holding her gaze.

  “What the hell happened to you?” she asked. She didn’t raise her voice, but a faint vibration shook the air around me.

  I tried to explain, stammering, “Grandma… I’m sorry. It was at the Academy… I had… an encounter with… a psychic girl…” My voice came out broken, barely audible to myself, because the silence that followed was deafening. Her shadow, stretched long across the wall behind her, shifted unnaturally, as though it were a living entity responding to her anger.

  “A psychic girl?” she repeated, frowning. “Are you hurt?”

  “Yes… it’s not that bad,” I murmured. My arm, my head—everything hurt. “But she almost killed me. It was partly my fault…”

  In that instant, I felt something press against my chest, as though the very air had thickened. That invisible power weighed on me, and even breathing became harder. My skin prickled; a chill ran up my spine. I didn’t know if it was a side effect of her energy or just a reflection of my fear. For a few seconds, I thought I might pass out. Then, my grandmother exhaled slowly, closed her eyes, and the oppressive atmosphere lightened slightly. Her shadow stopped writhing and settled back into a more ordinary shape.

  “Talk,” she ordered, her tone lower but no less harsh.

  I felt my knees tremble but forced myself to stand firm. Keeping an eye on my injury, I recounted as clearly as I could what had happened: how I’d gone to the library to research Alolan Grimer, how I had encountered that girl, Vera, with an Abra floating at her side, and how she had launched a psychic attack almost without warning. I described the flying paper blades, the suffocating mental pressure, and the unrestrained fury of that trainer who accused me of being part of the Poison Clan and trying to kill her. My grandmother listened in silence, unblinking. I noticed her jaw tighten when I mentioned Abra. Suddenly, she raised a hand to stop me.

  “Did you say Abra?” Her eyes widened with incredulity. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, absolutely sure,” I replied. “It wasn’t an ordinary Pokémon—she used it to teleport and reinforce her attacks. It even prevented us from landing a final blow. And she mentioned something about the Psychic Clan pursuing her… or hiring Poison assassins to watch her. I didn’t fully understand. She seemed really scared.”

  “Mmm,” my grandmother nodded thoughtfully. “An Abra is typically a starter Pokémon reserved for members with pure or primary lineage from the Psychic Clan. They’re very strict about it. They don’t hand them out to just anyone, but from what you’ve said, she doesn’t sound like a direct descendant.”

  “That’s what she claimed,” I added. “She said the Psychic Clan was after her, that they considered her a threat or something like that.”

  My grandmother was silent for a moment, but when I mentioned how Vera had become violent when I brought up Sabrina, she interrupted me:

  “You mentioned Sabrina?” she asked, almost growling. Her shadow quivered slightly again.

  I nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah, during the fight… I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. She got furious the moment I mentioned it. Her forehead glowed with a bright pink light. It was… weird, like that rage blinded her completely.”

  My grandmother gave me a look that screamed, “You’re an idiot,” without needing to say it out loud. In fact, she said it out loud:

  “Are you stupid or what? Sabrina is a key figure in the Psychic Clan. You don’t know how territorial they are or how easily they react when you mention their leaders. A little provocation is enough for them to crush their enemies. That girl could have turned you into a broken sack in the hallway if she’d lost a little more control!” She slammed her cane on the ground, clearly furious. “You’re just as reckless as your father, an idiot who doesn’t think before he speaks.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but closed it again. She wasn’t entirely wrong: it had been a huge mistake, a stupid mistake on my part that could have cost me my life. And the worst part was that it all happened so fast that I didn’t have time to think.

  With a huff, she turned around and gestured for me to follow her into the house. I closed the door and followed her. The familiar aroma of the kitchen mixed with the scent of medicinal herbs, and despite everything, I felt a little calmer; at least I was in familiar territory. However, I realized that I still felt a tingling sensation on my skin every time I looked at her silhouette; her anger hadn’t completely subsided.

  “Take out your Grimer,” she ordered. “I want to see how she’s doing.”

  Without hesitation, I released Dosy from her Poké Ball. My partner appeared on the ground with a slight splash. Her purple slime looked dull and her eyes were half-closed in exhaustion. He crawled to my feet, leaving a wet trail behind him. That was when my grandmother knelt down to his height. She leaned her cane against the wall, sighed, and placed her right hand on Dosy’s slimy head.

  Almost immediately, I felt a slight tremor in the air. My grandmother’s shadow lengthened, partially covering Grimer’s body, but this time it didn’t seem threatening. Instead, it was warm, like a protective blanket. Something inside me recognized that energy—it was the same calming presence I’d felt as a child when I’d hurt myself in the garden or had a stomachache. It was the way she channeled her mastery over poison to heal. Dosy blinked in surprise, gradually relaxing, and I could feel his breathing ease.

  “Enough,” my grandmother said, removing her hand. “He’ll recover; the psychic contusion isn’t fatal, but he needs rest.” She stood up with a slight grunt of effort, then looked at me. Now, tell me more about that girl. Why the hell did she attack you out of the blue?

  I explained what I could remember in detail, trying to recall Vera’s words: that she was being hunted, that she mentioned the Poison assassins, and that she didn’t seem aligned with Sabrina or the official hierarchy of the Psychic Clan. My grandmother frowned, as if she was piecing together a mental puzzle that didn’t quite fit. She was surprised to learn that Vera didn’t fit the image of “pure bloodline,” as an Abra wasn’t something that was easily acquired. For a moment, she seemed willing to dig deeper. However, as I was about to ask more about the pink glow and the anger Vera showed at the mention of Sabrina, she gestured for me to drop the subject. A fleeting thought crossed my mind: she probably didn’t want me to know too much about the connection between the Psychic Clan and certain secrets that weren’t meant for me yet.

  I took a deep breath, feeling uneasy, and took the opportunity to ask something that had always been lingering in my mind:

  “Grandma, what about starter Pokémon? You mentioned Abra as a Psychic starter Pokémon… This is the first time I’ve seen one.”

  For a moment, her tense expression softened, as if that topic was less painful to discuss. However, her usual curt tone quickly returned.

  “You don’t know anything?” she clicked her tongue. “I guess your mother didn’t tell you much. Listen, Kanto has 18 clans, but there are four that we would call “core” or “primary” due to their greatest influence in the region: Psychic, Fighting, Poison, and Dragon. They have their hands in the Pokémon League, the Federation, and everything else in Kanto. These clans control most of the resources, the advanced academies, and of course, the political power.”

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  I nodded, remembering the vague stories I had heard here and there.

  “Each of these clans offers a starter Pokémon to youngsters with enough talent or bloodline. For the Psychic Clan, it’s Abra. For the Fighting Clan, it’s Machop. In the Poison Clan, it’s Zubat. And for the Dragon Clan, it’s Dratini. They’ve raised these Pokémon for generations, honing their bloodlines. Train them properly, and they can become formidable allies.”

  “Zubat?” I murmured, intrigued. “I always thought it was a common cave Pokémon.”

  “It is for ordinary people. But the Poison Clan has special specimens, with bloodlines that go back several generations. Plus, since many ordinary people also catch them, it’s easy to blend in or go unnoticed by others.” A flash of nostalgia appeared in her eyes. “I had one myself, decades ago. But they don’t hand them out so easily anymore; you have to be deeply rooted in the clan hierarchy.”

  I exhaled sharply. It seemed like every secret opened up two more. “But isn’t there a stronger starter poison?”

  My grandmother tensed a little, her shadow trembling slightly against the wall. “There is another one, yes, but it’s in dispute with another clan. Very dangerous, to be honest. For now, no rookie would dare to use it. Don’t ask me any more. I won’t get involved in that conflict.” She crossed her arms. “In any case, it would be a terrible choice for you. Too much trouble.”

  I stayed quiet, trying to process everything. From the way she spoke, it seemed like something much more serious than a simple rivalry between trainers. Then, as if to divert the conversation, she gestured towards Grimer, who was now resting with a vacant look in his eyes.

  “In any case, you already have your Alolan Grimer. That says a lot, considering it has Alchemy Power, which will be useful for cultivation. Most native Kanto Pokémon wouldn’t be that useful, except perhaps a Bulbasaur or a Nidoran.” But both are tied to the Grass and Ground clans, and won’t be as useful for cultivation.

  “I’ll let you get one with no strings attached. So forget it.” She waved her hand dismissively, as if to brush away a nagging thought. “Your best bet is to look in other regions. The Academy, if you ascend to Class A or B, will allow you to travel and perhaps acquire Pokémon more suited to your style. And if you’re serious about cultivation, you should aim for Blueberry Academy, the interregional school. That’s where people willing to do whatever it takes to advance go.”

  “That sounds… complicated,” I muttered, shrugging. The thought of such a demanding place made me feel exhausted.

  “That’s up to you,” she replied sharply. “You’ve already entered the world of cultivation, so don’t do things halfway. Silly boy.” By the way, I’m sure there are people with bloodlines from other regions at the Academy. Pay attention to everyone, not just psychics.

  My head was spinning with so much information. I was about to ask for more details when she suddenly walked up to Grimer and, without warning, pried his mouth open with a firm movement. Dosy let out a startled cry, clearly alarmed. I leaned forward to protest, but my grandmother had already shoved her hand into Grimer’s mouth, digging around inside. The sludge sparkled slightly with neon-colored flashes where her hand made contact.

  “What are you doing?” I exclaimed in horror.

  “What I need to do,” she replied without blinking, “is that these ‘teeth’ are hardened poison crystals, a byproduct of your Alolan Grimer’s alchemy power. I need them to begin your cultivation, here and now.” She looked over her shoulder at me and held out the crystals. “Eat them.”

  I thought I had misheard. I took a step back and let out a gasp of disbelief.

  “What…? Are you crazy?”

  “Do as I say,” he insisted, his gaze sharp and firm. “If you are serious about the Five Poison Organs technique, there is no time to waste. The first step is to absorb a poison compatible with your spleen, which will be the first organ you modify. The Power of Alchemy aligns perfectly with the Earth. In time, you will be able to crystallize your toxins, just as this Grimer does naturally. But to do that, you must ingest its essence. That is the basis.” He shifted his gaze to Dosy. “And you, stop complaining, mudball. This will be good practice for your regeneration.”

  Dosy groaned, his eyes narrowed in visible pain. His mouth now showed gaps where his crystalline teeth had been. I bit my lip. My grandmother wasn’t giving me much of a choice. No matter how much I wanted to protest, I remembered my resolve to never feel helpless again. If cultivation required extreme measures, perhaps that was the price. Still, my hands trembled as I picked up one of the crystals. I held it in front of my face, studying its iridescent reflection and razor-sharp edges.

  “This is…” I hesitated, cold sweat running down my neck. I looked at my grandmother and swallowed hard. She didn’t let me finish.

  “Eat it,” she ordered. “And focus on your body. You must direct the poison to your spleen. Focus on that area, make the toxin settle there. If you fail, you could die.”

  I felt like I was on the verge of collapse, but there was no turning back. I brought the glass to my mouth and bit down. It was like chewing glass wrapped in liquid fire. A sharp pain shot through my tongue and teeth. A corrosive heat slid down my throat, something between acid and electric, like swallowing a burning coal. I staggered, leaning back with the urge to spit it out.

  “Don’t waste it,” she growled. “Chew it well.”

  I summoned all my courage and obeyed, feeling each shard crunch and release a searing juice that blurred my vision. My mind clenched with tension; sweat poured from my body and a faint buzzing filled my ears. With an almost inhuman effort, I swallowed the poison and felt it fall into my stomach like molten lead.

  “Focus,” I heard his voice, distant but firm. “Imagine your spleen is a vessel. Guide the poison there.”

  My vision blurred as I struggled to obey. I remembered his explanation of the spleen’s location: on the left side, under the ribs. I closed my eyes and tried to visualize it as I consumed the last shards of glass. Each breath sent spasms of pain through me. A terrible burning sensation ran through my chest and stomach, and I had the horrible feeling that I was being torn apart from within. I forced myself to suppress the urge to vomit.

  Suddenly, I felt a dull throbbing in my side. It was like a cold tingle mixed with toxic heat. I began to hyperventilate, my legs buckling beneath me. I fell to my knees on the carpet. My teeth chattered uncontrollably and my breathing became erratic. My grandmother’s voice persisted, firm, but I barely registered her words. A deafening murmur filled my ears. I remember trying to fix my gaze on Grimer for comfort, but the dizziness was too overwhelming. The room spun, shrank, and my consciousness faded to a point.

  The last thing I felt was my forehead hitting the floor. After that, darkness swallowed me whole.

  What happened next was beyond my understanding, as I couldn’t hear or see anything. From another perspective, though, reality continued. My grandmother, Julia, stood over my collapsed body with a sigh, her gaze sharp and focused. He watched as Grimer approached me, making a worried gurgling noise and nudging me awake with his mud. He stepped back and, with a couple of taps of his staff, summoned his shadow. It peeled off the wall like a living entity. A sinister smile emerged from that darkness and the silhouette of a Gengar became clear: a robust figure with pointed ears and a mischievous look.

  “Take him to his room,” he ordered. His tone was soft but unquestionable.

  The Gengar tilted its head, revealing its sharp fangs in a perpetual smirk. It approached me and, with surprising ease, lifted my limp body with its small claws. My head hung lifelessly against my chest and Grimer made a sympathetic sound, but did not dare to interfere. The ghostly Pokémon gently picked me up and left the room, crossing the dark hallway until it reached my bedroom. There, she placed me on the bed. A faint trail of purple smoke lingered in the air as Gengar laughed in a throaty tone, its ghostly presence clinging to the walls.

  Meanwhile, Julia walked over to the phone resting on a side table in the living room. Her expression was neither kind nor harsh, but a mix of determination and wariness. She picked up the receiver and dialed with a shaking finger. She waited a few seconds until someone answered.

  “Agatha?” she said, her voice suddenly sweet, almost mocking. “Yes, it’s me, Julia. Stop pretending you don’t recognize the voice of an old friend.” She let out a light cough. “Tsk, what I found out today… My grandson came home with his arm in a mess. He says he fought a psychic girl. Apparently she calls herself Vera. It seems Kanto Academy is full of extraordinary individuals. This world is getting more complicated.”

  He paused, his face tightening as he listened to the response on the other end of the line.

  “Oh, you’ve heard of her too? I think so. My grandson described her, and I think she fits the image of the Psychic Clan’s “pure bloodline,” but she has an Abra… Yes, yes, I know, it’s strange.” She looked toward the stairs leading to my room. “At least Aspen didn’t end up dead. But he’s begun the cultivation process. He swallowed his first poison, and now he’ll have to adapt or perish. He’s as stubborn as his father. But I trust that he’ll live.”

  A dry laugh escaped from her throat. At that moment, she tapped the ground with her cane, perhaps out of uneasiness.

  “Are there other young people with peculiar talents at the Academy? Of course, I don’t doubt it. Too many families are gathering there. This year is going to be an eventful year… Who knows what trouble my grandson will get into?”

  Julia moved the earpiece away from her ear slightly, her expression hesitant. She didn’t want to get involved, but she thought it was necessary. Lowering his voice to almost a whisper, he said,

  “No matter how long it takes, can you get me a Gastly with potential, Agatha? In exchange, I will tell you everything I remember about the Normal Clan technique I read decades ago in Koga’s secret vault.”

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