The sea was vast.
It took in everything without distinction, whether trash or life.
"Well done!"
Baimu praised Porygon2.
Controlling that many people with psychic power and throwing them far away was nowhere near as easy as it looked.
After all, Porygon2 wasn't naturally a Psychic type.
Porygon2 was a little proud, but only a little.
Lately, it had been pondering something else—whether to evolve into Porygon-Z.
Evolution had its pros and cons.
In competitive battles alone,
the upside was a substantial boost to its offensive power and the ability to carry more moves of different types.
The downside was that Eviolite would stop working, greatly reducing its defensive ability.
Porygon2 couldn't make up its mind.
It had asked its trainer what he thought, only to be told that the decision was up to it.
What did it want?
It didn't even know!
So for the past two days, Porygon2 had often gone to the Forest Tavern to complain to Oranguru that its trainer didn't understand how a duck felt.
Freedom was wonderful, sure, but sometimes a Pokémon ought to listen to its trainer!
Sigh!
Porygon2 suddenly envied Galarian Corsola.
That one never cared whether it evolved. All it thought about was what to eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner—and what to eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner tomorrow.
Training and battling were just ways to earn better meals and more time to slack off. It was the freest Ghost on Platinum Silver Mountain!
Must be nice!
While it was thinking this,
the free-spirited Ghost was silently resisting an outrage.
"Cors!"
"Drei! Drei!"
All three of Hydreigon's heads moved at once, dodging Corsola's smoky tendrils while trying to catch them in their jaws.
Corsola, who normally spent its days loafing around, was driven up the wall. Its red eyes glowed