After the festival, Ash and his gang resumed their journey toward Pewter City. Brock was both excited and nervous because of the engagement agreement his father had arranged for him.
Brock didn't know how to feel about the situation. On one hand, he was about to have a fiancée, but on the other, he wasn't interested in pursuing her—that was the real problem. So, he found himself asking for lessons from the "harem master" himself: Ash Ketchum. Ironically, Ash was also the lead character in Brock's own novel, Icha Icha Paradise—a surprise hit that Brock had written and couldn't believe had become so popular.
Brock didn't know how to feel about the situation. On one hand, he was finally going to have a girl in his life—but the fact that it was through an arranged engagement bothered him. He didn't want love to be handed to him; he wanted to earn it, like Ash did. Ash, after all, had girls following him without even trying. That effortless charm was something Brock admired deeply.
After some internal debate, Brock made up his mind. He didn't want to be tied down by someone he hadn't chosen himself. He wanted to be like Ash—free, confident, and in control of his own love story. With that thought, the gang resumed their journey toward Pewter City, the road ahead feeling a little less heavy for Brock now that he had a goal of his own.
As the team continued their journey toward Pewter City, they took a break in a peaceful meadow nestled between the hills. Sunlight streamed through the leaves above, casting warm patterns on the grass. A gentle breeze stirred the tall grass, and the atmosphere felt unusually calm—almost too calm.
Ash sat against a tree, Pikachu and Eevee curled up beside him. Misty filled water bottles at a nearby stream, while Brock leaned against his backpack, deep in thought. Sabrina sat slightly apart from the group, meditating silently, her senses alert as always.
"Farfetch'd, huh?" Ash said, breaking the silence as he stretched. "Sure, it's rare… and it's starting to become endangered. Poachers have been after them a lot lately—for their leeks. It's actually getting bad."
Sabrina opened her eyes slowly, glancing over. "I've sensed unrest in the wild near here. Fear. That would explain it."
Misty looked over her shoulder. "Why would someone target Farfetch'd? They're peaceful."
Ash's tone turned serious. "The PTLA really needs to step in. These Pokémon should be protected. Sanctuaries, legal restrictions—maybe even a temporary ban on catching them until their population recovers."
Pikachu and Eevee both nodded in sync. Eevee pawed at Ash's leg, sensing his concern.
"I didn't realize things had gotten that bad," Brock said quietly, his gaze distant. "I used to see Farfetch'd all the time near Pewter. Now? Nothing."
Sabrina stood up, her expression unreadable. "We are not alone."
Eevee's ears perked up. Pikachu stood alert, eyes narrowed.
A flash of movement—something darted through the tall grass.
"Did you see that?" Misty was already on her feet. "That wasn't just the wind."
Ash jumped up, ready. "Let's move. That might be the Farfetch'd."
They crept through the grass toward the trees, where they finally spotted it: a small, worn-out Farfetch'd. Its feathers were ruffled, and its leek was splintered at the end. It looked around nervously, clearly injured and on the run.
Ash raised a hand. "Easy… We're not here to hurt you."
But before he could approach, a net exploded from the shadows—snaring the Farfetch'd with cruel speed.
A poacher stepped out from behind a tree, smirking as he tugged the rope. "Thanks for tracking it down for me, kids. Saves me the trouble."
Ash stepped forward, fists clenched. "Let it go. That Pokémon's endangered—what you're doing is illegal."
The poacher laughed. "Illegal doesn't mean unprofitable. I've got buyers waiting."
Sabrina's eyes narrowed. "You've made a mistake stepping into our path."
Brock stepped up beside Ash, fire in his eyes. "You're not getting away with this."
"Oh yeah?" the poacher sneered. "What's the chef gonna do—bore me with romantic advice?"
Without a word, Brock threw a Poké Ball. "Graveler, let's go!"
The rocky Pokémon emerged with a heavy thud, glaring at the poacher. The ground beneath them rumbled slightly.
"Pikachu, Thunderbolt—now!" Ash called.
Electricity crackled as Pikachu launched a bolt straight at the net's control box, frying it and snapping the ropes. Eevee dashed forward, catching the dazed Farfetch'd before it could hit the ground.
"You alright?" Brock asked, kneeling and gently taking the injured Pokémon from Eevee's grasp.
The poacher turned to flee—but Sabrina was already behind him. She raised a hand, her eyes glowing violet. The man froze mid-step, locked in place by her psychic hold.
"You're not going anywhere," she said calmly. "The authorities will deal with you."
Suddenly, Graveler began to glow.
Brock stepped back. "Whoa—he's evolving!"
The team watched as Graveler's rocky body expanded and reshaped, becoming smoother, more solid. When the light faded, a newly evolved Golem stood where Graveler had been, roaring with newfound power.
"Nice!" Ash grinned. "That's some perfect timing."
Ash then turned back to the Farfetch'd, kneeling beside it and placing a hand gently on its wing. His eyes briefly glowed green—his Viridian aura activating as a faint energy flowed from his hand into the Pokémon. Slowly, the tension in Farfetch'd's body eased. Its wounds stopped bleeding, and it let out a soft, grateful quack.
Brock blinked. "Ash… what was that?"
"Just… a little something I can do sometimes," Ash said with a half-smile.
Farfetch'd looked up at Brock, its eyes calm and affectionate now.
"It really likes you," Misty said, crossing her arms. "You did save it, after all."
Ash nudged him. "You know, you've got room on your team…"
Brock hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. If you want to come with me, I'd be honored."
Farfetch'd gave a happy cry and tapped Brock's Poké Ball with its beak. The ball clicked shut immediately.
Brock smiled warmly. "Welcome to the team."
With their newest teammate safely in a Poké Ball and the poacher restrained for the authorities, the gang finally resumed their path.
With Farfetch'd safely healed and resting in Brock's Poké Ball, and the poacher arrested, the group took a moment to relax in a quiet clearing before heading into Pewter City.
Under a large tree, Pikachu cradled a bottle of ketchup like it was the last bottle in existence. He unscrewed the cap and sniffed it with reverence.
"Pikaaa~…" he sighed, lost in pure bliss.
Eevee, ever curious, trotted over and sniffed the bottle.
"Vee?"
Pikachu gave a smug nod. He knew this moment was coming. Like a seasoned dealer, he gently offered Eevee a dab of ketchup on a cracker.
Eevee licked it.
Silence.
Its pupils widened.
Its tail wagged.
Its tongue flopped out like a Houndoom in heat.
"VEEEEEE!!" it squeaked in rapture, spinning in circles. It instantly started pawing at the bottle.
Pikachu chuckled darkly. "Pika pika." (Translation: "And now you're one of us.")
Just then—
A shimmering pink portal appeared behind them, complete with theme music that sounded suspiciously like a remix of elevator jazz and dubstep.
And stepping out with theatrical flair—
Deadpool.
In a tacky Pikachu hoodie.
Holding a ketchup popsicle.
"Oh, what do we have here?" he said, smirking. "Pikachu, turning another innocent Eevee into a sugar-sauced ketchup-head? Again?"
Pikachu's ears twitched violently. Sparks flickered. A vein bulged.
Eevee paused mid-lick, glancing back and forth between them like a kid stuck in the middle of a custody battle.
Deadpool casually turned to the audience. "Folks, this is, like, the fifth time I've caught him doing this. I'd report it to Officer Jenny, but she blocked me after I challenged her Growlithe to a dance-off."
"Chu… pika…" Pikachu growled.
Deadpool grinned. "I mean, c'mon, Pikachu. At this point, even Team Rocket's less predictable than your ketchup addiction. Get help, bro."
Pikachu stood up slowly, shadows swirling around him like he'd just activated his Final Arc Mode.
"PIKA… CHUUUUUU!!"
He let loose a massive Thunderbolt, the biggest yet—clearly years of Deadpool trolling had built up inside him like a dam of rage.
But Deadpool, of course, just vanished mid-blast, leaving only a cardboard cutout behind labeled:
"You'll never catch me, ketchup gremlin 🧃 - ❤️ Deadpool"
The Thunderbolt hit the cutout, disintegrating it in a blinding flash. A crater formed. Trees trembled. Eevee and Pikachu both got singed.
Ash turned slightly. "Huh? Did you guys hear something?"
Misty blinked. "Just thunder, I think."
Sabrina, with eyes half-closed, murmured, "Pikachu is having visions again."
Meanwhile, Eevee was still licking the ketchup, completely unfazed. Pikachu stood in the middle of a smoking crater, fur puffed up like a Jolteon, seething with rage.
"Chuuuuu…"(Translation: "Next time, Deadpool. You won't get away.")
Eevee crawled up beside him and tapped the bottle.
"Vee?"
Pikachu handed it over, grumbling. "Chu." (Fine. Share it. Misery loves company.)
And with a dramatic anime wind gust and one last shake of his fist at the sky, Pikachu rejoined the group, vowing silently that this was personal now.
Deadpool had officially become his archnemesis.
As they crested a hill, Pewter City came into view in the distance—its stone buildings and the silhouette of the famous Pewter Gym glowing gently in the sunset.
"Home sweet home," Brock murmured, more determined than ever.