The argument between Norman's supporters and the vendor grows louder, drawing curious residents and tourists from nearby stalls. Caroline looks troubled; she clearly hadn't expected things to escalate and now struggles to form a response.
I step forward.
"Everyone, I'm sure Madam Caroline has already discussed this matter with Norman since the strange incidents began. Let's give them time to find the most appropriate solution."
The voices settle. People glance at me, then back at Caroline. Like someone thrown a lifeline, she nods quickly.
"Yes—yes! My husband is already working hard to investigate this issue. It is his responsibility as a Gym Leader, so please don't worry."
With the tension defused, the crowd loses interest and slowly disperses. The vendor lets out a relieved sigh.
"Those hardcore Norman fans are scarier than I expected. Thanks, kid. Here, take some vegetables. You a trainer?"
"Not yet, but I will be in a few days."
"Good! Trainers gain priceless experiences and meet all kinds of people and Pokémon. Ah, your words brought back memories of my trainer days… Here—this is my friend's contact in Rustboro City. He sells Pokéblocks. Tell him I sent you, and he'll help you — maybe even give you some for free."
He presses the bag of vegetables into my arms with a warm grin.
Caroline turns to me as well.
"Thank you for helping. Since you're going to be a trainer soon, Norman can give you some guidance. And you should join us for lunch at the Gym — it's the least I can do."
I plan to politely refuse, but my stomach growls loud enough to betray me.
"...Okay. If it's not troublesome. And my stomach agrees."
I follow her to Petalburg Gym. Inside, a boy considerably smaller than my age is polishing a Slaking's fur. He wears a green T-shirt and rectangular glasses.
"Mom, who's this?"
"This is Stephen — soon to be a trainer. And this is my son, Max. He often helps his father manage Gym affairs. He's the one who trusts Norman the most."
"Hi, I'm Stephen. You really care for your parents and Pokémon — that Slaking looks relaxed and happy with your care."
"Thanks! My dream is to become a trainer too, once I turn ten. But… you look older than ten, why did you start late?"
In a world where kids typically start at ten, I must seem unusual.
"Hmm… complicated reasons. Let's just say it took time for things to line up."
"Looks like you two get along," Caroline smiles. "I'll prepare lunch. Call me if you need anything."
How does she know we 'get along' after only two sentences?
Max turns to me again.
"So, you're going to challenge my dad eventually, right? If you want to compete in the Hoenn League, you'll need eight badges."
"Of course. That means I'll have to battle your father someday. "I pause and smirk. "Let me guess — you're wondering how a rookie will beat him?"
I hope he isn't as fanatical as those people earlier.
Max chuckles.
"Don't worry. If you pass my dad's test, I'll congratulate you. I learned my lesson from traveling with someone once."
"You mean Ash? He's a legend! It's amazing you traveled with him in Hoenn."
Ash's performance in the Masters Eight still gives me goosebumps. Who would have predicted Pikachu beating Leon's Charizard?
Max stands, glancing toward the training area and grins proudly.
"Yeah! Ash was always training, even when everyone else thought he was crazy. He never gives up. I used to think I could keep up with him back then… but wow, he's on a whole different level."
"Anyway, I need to check on the other Pokémon before Dad gets back."
"Want help?" I ask. Just sitting here feels awkward — plus, I want to spend time around Pokémon.
"Sure. Take this form and mark the Pokémon present in the back garden."
It's simple but time-consuming — perfect for observing Pokémon up close.
The backyard leaves me stunned. The environment Norman created is beyond what most trainers could imagine. Trees, training structures, and open fields make it feel like a small nature reserve.
Normal-type Pokémon relax in groups — some napping in the shade, others playing. Vigoroth swing between trees, bursting with energy. Despite their numbers, they're neatly grouped, making my task manageable.
A few curious Pokémon watch me, but once they see I'm not a threat, they lose interest.
As I'm finishing the checklist, a calm voice speaks behind me.
"Looks like you're doing well with the observations."
I turn. A man stands there — red jacket, white shirt, dark pants, and sandals.
There's no doubt.
Norman.The most respected Gym Leader in Hoenn — standing right in front of me.