By evening, little Andy's parents had returned.

  Both were orchard farmers at the Berlitz Farm, located just outside Ambition City, near the Bck Forest.

  Berlitz… Mark's heart stirred at the name, immediately recalling the wealthiest family in the Sinnoh region.

  Could this Berlitz Farm be owned by that prestigious family?

  "A thousand years ago, in Sinnoh…"

  Mark murmured to himself as the world in his mind became clearer.

  "Oh, Samuel, you're finally awake!"

  A burly, brown-haired woman entered the room. Upon seeing Mark sitting up in bed, her face lit up with joy.

  She quickly approached and pulled Mark into a firm embrace, her rge, bear-like hands enthusiastically patting his back.

  Mark nearly coughed up blood from the impact, hacking violently.

  "Oh! I'm so sorry, Samuel, I forgot you just fell from such a great height…"

  The stout woman hastily released him, her face full of remorse.

  "I'm fine, Aunt Irene." Though his chest still ached, Mark couldn't help but feel warmth in his heart.

  Andy's father entered the room as well, sighing in relief. "As long as you're okay."

  Then, he reached into the pocket of his linen trousers and carefully pulled out a small bottle filled with a vibrant green liquid, handing it to Mark with great care.

  "Uncle Darby, this is…?" Mark asked, noticing the serious expression on his face as he accepted the bottle.

  "This is a healing potion produced at Berlitz Farm. Drink it, and you'll recover in no time," Darby said with a broad grin.

  Mark hesitated for a moment. He gnced at the humble, run-down house, then back at the potion in his hand. For some reason, his eyes stung with unexpected emotion.

  He wasn't sure how much this healing potion was worth, but it certainly wasn't cheap.

  Seeing Mark's silence, Darby chuckled and ruffled his hair. "Samuel, I'm just gd you're safe. Otherwise, I wouldn't know how to face your father."

  "Drink up, and then we can have dinner," Aunt Irene added with a smile before turning toward the kitchen.

  Little Andy cheered happily and ran after her, eager to see what was on the menu for tonight.

  Uncle Darby patted Mark on the shoulder before following them to help with the preparations.

  For a brief moment, Mark found himself alone in the room.

  "Uncle Darby, Aunt Irene, and little Andy…"

  Mark whispered their names to himself, his eyes filling with determination. From this moment on, he was Samuel.

  Inside the dimly lit room, Samuel uncapped the bottle of healing potion.

  A faint, refreshing fragrance drifted out, instantly calming him.

  Without hesitation, he drank the emerald liquid in one gulp. The moment it touched his tongue, an intense bitterness spread across his taste buds.

  "So bitter."

  Samuel smacked his lips, feeling a wave of warmth spreading from his stomach.

  The warmth flowed through his body, gathering at his chest, bringing an overwhelming sense of relief.

  He touched his chest—his pain had vanished completely, and his fatigue had dissipated as well.

  The effects of the potion were astonishing, on par with a Pokémon's healing move.

  Samuel was amazed. The development of medicine in the Pokémon world a thousand years ago seemed quite advanced.

  But what about healing moves? If Pokémon could naturally use them, wouldn't that be a more cost-effective solution?

  Once he had fully recovered, Samuel opened the door. Aunt Irene had already set the table.

  A bowl of pea soup, five slices of rye bread, and two apples—peeled, small, and slightly misshapen—awaited him.

  Little Andy sat at the table, happily munching on an apple. Seeing Samuel, he grinned with puffed cheeks. "Big Brother Samuel, come eat! The apples are really sweet!"

  "Alright," Samuel replied politely, pulling out a chair to sit down.

  Aunt Irene dled out a bowl of pea soup and pushed the pte of bread and apples toward him.

  Samuel remained silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled and thanked her before biting into a piece of rye bread.

  After finishing the bread, he picked up an apple, noticeably smaller and rougher than the typical ones, and took slow, deliberate bites.

  Soon, what was considered a feast for the impoverished was finished. Aunt Irene rose to clean up, and Andy eagerly joined in to help.

  Now, only Samuel and Uncle Darby remained at the table.

  "Uncle Darby, I want to work at the farm."

  After a brief silence, Samuel spoke, his expression serious.

  Darby hesitated. "Being a farmer at Berlitz Farm… it's tough work."

  And they wouldn't normally hire a sixteen-year-old boy. They needed strong borers… Darby thought to himself.

  "I want to give it a try," Samuel said, carefully choosing his words. "You can tell Mr. Berlitz that I don't need a sary. I just want to help out and learn."

  Then, as if to strengthen his case, he added, "It's time for me to grow up."

  Hearing those words, especially the st sentence, Darby's gaze flickered. He tapped the table thoughtfully before finally nodding.

  Seeing his approval, Samuel exhaled in relief. He stood up, bowed politely, and made his way toward the door, intending to return to his small, dipidated home.

  "Samuel, stay here for now. It's dangerous at night."

  Seeing Samuel about to leave, Darby quickly spoke up. "Don't be shy—I promised your father I'd take care of you."

  Samuel paused at the doorway and nodded. "Alright, I just want to go back before it gets completely dark. I'll return soon."

  Once Darby nodded in agreement, Samuel stepped out and walked toward his house next door.

  He wanted to use this chance to recall what had happened the previous night—how he ended up unconscious in the streets.

  Falling from the rooftop?

  And the lost memories… he felt there was something hidden in all of this.

  The stone-paved streets were deserted at this hour, a hollow emptiness lingering in the air.

  Samuel gnced around and noticed wary eyes peering at him from within the rundown homes. Fear clouded their gazes—this neighborhood had been pgued by disappearances, an ever-present shadow hanging over them.

  A few steps forward, and Samuel suddenly sensed something. He looked up toward a rooftop.

  There, perched against the darkening sky, was a pitch-bck crow, its figure blending seamlessly with the encroaching night.

  "Murkrow!"

  Samuel recognized the Pokémon immediately.

  At the same time, his sharp eyes caught sight of the Monster Restraint device attached to its body—a sure sign that it belonged to the city's enforcers.

  Clearly, the recent disappearances in the slums had drawn the attention of w enforcement. This Murkrow was assigned to monitor the area.

  Retracting his gaze, Samuel continued down the path until he arrived at his home.

  He pushed on the door—it wasn't locked—and stepped inside.

  The small, dipidated space held only a wooden bed, a soot-covered stove, and a battered cooking pot.

  Then, his eyes fell on a tattered doll beside the bed—shredded beyond recognition, with colorful scraps of fabric scattered across the floor.

  A wave of sorrow surged within him.

  That doll… his mother had made it for him. It had been with him for years.

  "Who… destroyed my doll?"

  Samuel narrowed his eyes. He knew it wasn't his own doing. So who was it?

  Someone had been in his home st night.

  And judging by their actions… they were not friendly.

  Digging deeper into Samuel's fragmented memories, he found that his life had been simple.

  As an orphan, he received a small stipend from the benevolent lord, enough to scrape by. With Uncle Darby's help, he had managed to survive to sixteen.

  He had never crossed anyone.

  Something wasn't right.

  Samuel knelt down, picking up the ruined doll and gently pcing it back on the bed.

  "I need to get stronger."

  -----

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