The Ones Picking Them Up

"Bleurgh—"

Blake clung to a trash can beside the airport, vomiting violently. It was the first time he had learned that he actually got airsick! He had been fine on the plane, yet once he got off, the nausea hit him hard!

"I... bleurgh—"

Blake wanted to ask for some water, but before he could finish, another wave of nausea cut him off. He could only keep hugging the trash can and making a spectacle of himself.

"Gengar? (´･ω･)ﾉ(._.`)"

Haunter held out a bottle of water to Blake. Blake accepted it, but before he could even take a sip, he began dry heaving again.

"What kind of problem is this?"

Louise rubbed her forehead helplessly. At a time like this, she truly did not want to admit that he was her son. It was far too embarrassing.

"Everyone has things they aren't good at. Not being able to fly is no big deal. There are plenty of options when traveling—you can take a ship, or even ride a Pokémon. Blake has no problems with either of those."

Compared to the high-spirited Louise, James was much more composed. He looked at Blake, who was gradually recovering, and spoke calmly.

"Bleurgh... better. Bleurgh... much better."

After dry heaving twice more and finally getting rid of the last of his nausea, Blake slumped onto the ground and spoke with a dead-eyed expression. He had taken trains, ships, and ridden Pokémon in this life without any problems. He had thought he was immune to all forms of transportation, but he had never expected to be betrayed by airplanes.

"Gengar—" "Dree!" "Rrrumble."

Haunter, Dreepy, and Dhelmise all floated over to Blake, looking at him with concern.

"I'm fine. Whew... don't worry, I'm okay now."

Blake used the trash can to pull himself to his feet and looked apologetically at the airport staff. After all, there was no way that trash can could still smell tolerable. However, the airport staff were clearly used to this. They skillfully brought over various tools, and in less than half a minute, everything Blake had thrown up was bagged and taken away.

"Feeling better?"

James handed him a piece of chocolate.

"Much better. I'm fine now."

Blake took the chocolate and popped it into his mouth. The energy brought by its sweetness quickly settled his stomach. Still, it had to be said that people in this world were physically impressive. He was not the type who could become a saint through sheer physical strength like Ash, but his recovery speed was certainly not slow.

"Let's go. They're already waiting for us."

James patted Blake on the shoulder. After confirming that Blake was not merely putting on a brave face, he picked up the luggage and headed out of the airport.

Outside the airport, a young man in a black-and-brown jacket leaned against a black business van. His pale blue, tousled hair stood out as he idly tossed two stones in his hand.

"They're not here yet, Dad?"

The young man called into the vehicle.

"They should be soon. It just showed that Professor James's flight has landed. By the way, I'll ask Professor James to take you along this time, but we agreed on this: no running around, no acting on your own, and all activities are to follow instructions. Archaeological excavation isn't Pokémon battling. You may be very skilled at Pokémon battles, but that doesn't mean those battling skills can save your life in underground ruins. Understand?"

The window rolled down, and a middle-aged man with the same hair color, dressed in a silver-gray suit, spoke from inside.

"I know, Dad. But you're the one who really wants to take part in the excavation, aren't you? Otherwise, you wouldn't have ditched all those meetings just to come here for something that could have been handled with a phone call."

"What nonsense are you talking about?!"

The middle-aged man cut him off before he could finish. The expression of a business elite and upper-class figure instantly vanished from his face, leaving only a trace of panic and a faint blush.

"Dad's still the same as ever, right, Metang?"

The young man smiled and called to his side.

"Rrrumble!"

A silver-white, robotic-looking Iron Claw Pokémon—Metang—floated over and nodded with a smile. Clearly, it was already used to scenes like this.

"I—"

"Grandma, I can manage on my own. You didn't have to come all this way."

Just as the middle-aged man was about to say something else, a female voice passed by from the side, interrupting him. The two looked over and saw a blonde girl in a black dress supporting an elderly woman who looked to be in her sixties or seventies, with dry yellow hair and a cane.

"Don't talk nonsense. Professor James's team isn't something you can just join whenever you want. Don't think you're amazing just because you published one paper on historical mythology. Compared to actual professionals, you still have a long way to go. You won't discover anything worthwhile by sitting in your room all day. If you truly want to become a historian and mythological historian, what you need most is to go out and see things for yourself. Those ruins, especially ones that have not yet been fully excavated, are your best learning opportunities. And don't think your little bit of Pokémon battling skill makes you invincible. Ancient ruins contain countless hidden dangers. They cannot be dealt with by nonprofessionals. If you rely on force, all you'll get is a field of rubble."

The old woman was clearly displeased with her granddaughter's words and tapped the blonde girl on the head with her cane. The blonde girl could only clutch her head and pretend it hurt. As for the shark-like Pokémon beside her, it merely turned its head away and pretended not to see anything. That was its Trainer's grandmother! What could she say? She was just a poor, helpless Gible. For Grandma's homemade lunches, it was better to say nothing.

"Yes, yes, Grandma. Don't be angry."

The blonde girl said with a placating smile, but then she noticed an appraising gaze. There was no hostility in it, but it was undoubtedly a blatant scrutiny. She turned and saw a young man leaning against a black luxury sedan.

"Gible!"

Gible noticed him as well. She disliked that scrutinizing gaze and immediately roared in the young man's direction, but the roar clearly displeased the others.

"Rrrumble!"

Metang flew in front of the young man, blocking Gible's view. It roared back without showing any weakness.

"Gible, Metang, stop messing around." *2

The young man and the girl shouted at the same time. Both Pokémon obediently retreated to the side, though the old woman and the middle-aged man were clearly more familiar with each other than the two youngsters were.

"Professor Rowan, I've heard much about you."

"President Zvoch Mu Jin, a pleasure."

Professor Rowan and President Zvoch shook hands. Clearly, the two were old acquaintances.

"I didn't expect Professor Rowan to be here. Are you picking someone up?"

President Zvoch asked with a smile.

"Yes, for the sake of this unpromising child of mine. But compared to this old woman, it's far more surprising to see President Zvoch here. Surely you aren't here to pick someone up too?"

Professor Rowan asked with a smile. After all, the other man was the helmsman of a massive corporation that practically had one hand over the entire Hoenn region.

"The same, the same. It's all for the children at home. But in that case, it seems we may be waiting for the same group of people."

"Yes, they should be here by now. Professor James."