To Suck or Not to Suck

Three days passed after Wally left.

Once he had trained Galarian Corsola to eat on schedule, it would wake up looking for food with greater precision than an alarm clock.

Baimu knew his chance had come.

So.

This time, he deliberately did not prepare lunch for Galarian Corsola. As if he had forgotten, he simply started eating by himself.

The other Pokémon also buried themselves in their food, deaf to anything beyond the meal and focused solely on what was on their plates.

Galarian Corsola looked left and right, but after a long while, it still could not find its bowl. Its already gloomy expression became visibly gloomier.

It tentatively stretched out its feelers and waved them, trying to draw Baimu or the surrounding Pokémon's attention. When it realized no one reacted—

Its entire face immediately took on an even more depressed look.

Galarian Corsola: (′へ`,)

Baimu remained calm on the surface, but inwardly, he began looking forward to it coming over to complain—or simply snatching food from the other Pokémon.

...It seemed a little inhumane, but it was mainly to push Galarian Corsola into action. If it could pull three or four hours out of its daily twenty-three hours and fifty minutes of loafing around, that would be its first step toward the activity level of a normal Pokémon.

Turning the desire for food into motivation was better than curling up all day long.

Forcing it was still forcing it, of course, but only at the stage of tempting it with benefits.

Unfortunately, Galarian Corsola had loafed around for so many years that Baimu's little trick could hardly turn it from passive to proactive.

No food?

Then it would not eat.

Galarian Corsola immediately shut down. Its eyes closed, its Levitate stopped, and with a plop, it fell to