Five jars of Tri-Honey were pced in front of the Heracross, and all they had to do was find one of the three individuals mentioned by the human. Just one was enough.

  The Heracross had hought their memory could be this sharp. With a single ghey memorized the faces of those three individuals.

  Even if they fot what their parents, spouse, or children looked like, they swore they'd remember these three faces until the day they died.

  As the Heracross began flying out one by o wasn’t long before all of them had disappeared into the forest.

  Left behind were only a few young Heracross, too inexperieo survive on their own. They were so newly hatched that even flying was a challenge.

  The baby Heracross almost burst into tears. This was nothing short of bullying.

  Despite their geure, Heracross were formidable fighters. In this group, most of the adults were at least Advanced-level, with several at the peak of Advanced rank.

  Their leader seudo-Elite level.

  Ier-mid region of the White Mountains, only a pseudo-Elite-level Pokémon could cim a territory.

  Sihis area was the Heracross’s domain, they were intimately familiar with it. The group split up, each determio be the first to find the targets and cim all five jars of Tri-Honey for themselves.

  Their flying speed reached its peak as they raced against one another.

  In their rush, they actally damaged several of their favorite maple trees along the way.

  ---

  "Machamp, give me one of those sour berries—my mouth is so sweet it’s making me sick," Dalton grumbled.

  Leaning against a maple tree, he had just drunk half a aple syrup. For someone like him, who preferred salty foods, relying on maple syrup as a primary food source felt like torture.

  Fortunately, there was a grove of maple trees here. Otherwise, with his supplies depleted, he would’ve starved without them.

  Though he hated maple syrup, he couldn’t leave. If he ventured away, he might not find another food source, and with no map in hand, he had no idea where to go.

  He had been hoping to run into someone—anyone—who could guide him out of this area. Then, he could call for help to locate Shen, Luis, and the rest of the survey team.

  A few days ago, he had finally entered three people. He asked about Shen and Luis, but before he could inquire about the way out, the trio fled as if they had seen a ghost.

  He had deliberately gone shirtless to show he wasn’t a threat, but those three just didn’t get it.

  Sihen, Dalton hadn’t seen a single living soul.

  The White Mountain Range was vast, and being ier-mid region made human enters even rarer.

  “Damn it, this is so sour.”

  Chewing on the berry Machamp had handed him, Dalton’s face twisted from the overwhelming sourness, though it did successfully cut through the sweetness lingering in his mouth.

  Machamp chuckled at the rea.

  "What are you ughing at? Ohe energy cubes in the bag are gone, you’ll be stuck eating syrup and wild berries with me," Dalton snapped, shooting Machamp a gre.

  "Here, take a bite now to get used to it. Don’t e g to me ter if you ’t ha."

  Despite their less-than-ideal situation, Dalton’s attitude remained upbeat.

  Machamp shook its head firmly, refusing to try.

  “Whe out of here,” Dalton said, biting into another sour berry, “I swear, I’m going to rent a Flying-type Pokémon long-term. If I’d had one big enough to carry me, I’d already be out of here. o be stuck eating this garbage.”

  His face torted again from the sourness, his facial features seeming to twist together.

  ---

  Meanwhile, one of the Heracross darted through the forest at top speed, its eyes sing the surroundings.

  'Trees, maple trees—everywhere. Where are the humans?'

  Suddenly, it spotted a figure among the trees, something distinctly not a maple tree.

  Stopping mid-flight for a closer look, it saw a Machamp and... some kind of creature with a face that looked hiriously twisted.

  Its curiosity piqued, the Heracross decided to approach the unfamiliar Pokémon it had never seen before.

  Machamp noticed the approag Heracross and immediately assumed a defeance. Over the past few days, it had defeated plenty of wild Pokémon that had tried to attack them.

  “Heracross fly, right?”

  Dalton muttered when he spotted the ining Pokémoe his sour expressioement fshed across his face.

  It was as if his wish had e true. Not only it could fly, but it also had the Fighting type.

  However, a realization suddenly hit him. Given his size, Heraight not be much help.

  Most of them barely reached 1.5 meters tall, and at his 1.9-meter height, he’d likely crush it. Riding a Heracross would look more like walking a dog than taking flight.

  “Hera!~”

  The Heracross stopped about thirty meters from Machamp.

  Dalton’s twisted expression gradually returo normal as the sourness faded.

  “Hera?~”

  'Wait... this face is starting to look familiar'

  Though Machamp remained cautious, it noticed the Heracross didn’t seem hostile and didn’t un attack.

  “Hera!~”

  'It’s him!'

  When Dalton’s face fully rexed, Heracross suddenly reized him. It was the man it had been tasked to find!

  Realizing it had found its target—and picturing the five jars of Tri-Ho would soon cim—the Heracross began jumping and twirling iement.

  “Why is it dang for us?”

  Dalton asked, puzzled.

  Machamp shook its head, equally clueless.

  Machamp: “Hey, what do you want?”

  Heracross: "Hand over that human to me."

  Machamp’s eyes narrowed as it gred at the Heracross. 'Hand over my trainer? And who’s going to feed me then? Over my dead body!'

  Heracross: "Someone's five jars of honey for this human."

  Machamp, who had been ready to fight, lowered its fists upon hearing this.

  Machamp: "What do you mean?"

  Heracross: "Someone’s looking for him."

  Dalton watched the two Pokémon unig, their gestures adding to the mystery. Heracross even held up five fingers, emphasizing its point.

  Machamp didn’t sense any hostility from Heracross. Besides, Dalton was already searg for other humans. If someone was indeed looking for him, there was a good ce it was someone he knew.

  Despite its bulky appearance, Machamp wasn’t just about brute strength—it had a brain and could piece things together.

  “Machamp, what are you doing?”

  Dalton asked, puzzled, as Machamp grabbed his arm aured for him to follow.

  As they trailed behind Heracross, Dalton asked jokingly, “Machamp, why are we following it? You didn’t, uh, sell me out, did you?”

  Machamp, his starter and most loyal Pokémon, would never do such a thing.

  But Dalton couldn’t help but wonder what Heracross had said to make Machamp decide to follow it.

  “Hera~”

  Heracross gnced around nervously, as though expeg dao leap out at any moment.

  The sight made both Machamp and Dalton tense up.

  However, the "danger" wasn’t what they might have imagihe real was the other Heracross.

  If the others found out about the human, they might try to snatch him away, stealing Heracross’s precious prize.

  So it had to be vigint.

  To Heracross, Dalton wasn’t just a human. In its mind, Dalton = five jars of Tri-Honey

  *****

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