Since news of the mysterious meteorites broke, scattered rumors and conspiracy theories occupied social networks, yet none of that stopped Ethan from pushing forward with daily tasks at Pokémon Biotech. The first wave of evolution fluid had gone on the market, and although a handful of videos from private rumor channels hinted at success, the general public had not witnessed many new Pokémon evolutions.
The instructions on the packaging advised owners to wait until their Pokémon matured or formed a deep emotional bond before administering the fluid. Many had decided to be patient.
Meanwhile, Ethan's original plan to partner Hoothoot with the local medical community in Tarvok City was taking shape. The idea was simple: Hoothoot had a built-in Hypnosis ability that could help severe insomniacs attain swift, peaceful sleep without medication.
And after a week of coordination, the city's leading hospital gave tentative approval to test the owl-like Pokémon on a few patients. Today would be the first major demonstration in a clinical environment.
Dr. Sun shook his head in amazement. "Let's try a more extended version. If it can help me stay asleep for half an hour, I'll see if it works like a deeper sedation." He glanced at Ethan for approval.
Ethan nodded. "We can. It might be more comfortable on a reclining chair."
Minutes later, they arranged a padded lounger. Dr. Sun reclined fully, letting Hoothoot fix him in its calm gaze once more. In seconds, he was out like a light. The nurses hovered in curiosity, sometimes poking him gently or measuring his pulse. He continued to sleep peacefully, stirring only when they roused him after about half an hour. Upon waking, he exclaimed again, "I feel more rested than I have in weeks. That was a real deep sleep."
He paused, excitement building in his eyes. "We must ensure nobody misuses it, though. If someone unscrupulous used Hoothoot's Hypnosis, they could knock people out for ill intentions."
Ethan nodded solemnly. "It's a valid concern. We'll set guidelines. The hospital can keep them under supervised conditions. This is about helping patients with insomnia or mental strains, not giving criminals a tool."
Dr. Sun smiled. "Indeed. We'll run a series of tests, but it already looks promising. If we can standardize the method to last a set duration, that could be revolutionary for severe insomnia cases. You said Hoothoot can evolve?"
"Eventually, yes," Ethan explained. "They become Noctowl, which might hold advanced mental powers. That said, we might keep them in Hoothoot form for some time, especially if you prefer a smaller size and gentler Hypnosis."
They concluded the demonstration with Dr. Sun deciding that two Hoothoots would be tested at the hospital for real. They needed to check multiple patient profiles, from mild sleeplessness to severe anxiety-based insomnia. If the results were as consistent as Dr. Sun's experience, the hospital planned to formalize a partnership.
Before leaving, Dr. Sun shared, "We'll do a thorough exam to ensure no side effects for each patient. If all is well, we'd keep them here on a daily schedule, with your staff assisting. Is that workable?"
"Absolutely." Ethan turned to one of his employees, Lily, who had come in earlier to look after the owls. "Lily, you'll ferry Hoothoot back and forth from the lab to the hospital each day. Think of it like an outpatient therapy model."
Although somewhat surprised, Lily accepted the responsibility eagerly. "I've been stuck in the lab for ages. This is a refreshing change."
---
Early next morning, Lily drove a company vehicle to pick up Hoothoot from Lab No. 2. Together with Dr. Sun, they navigated the hallways of Tarvok City's Holistic Hospital to the neurology department. Staff who recognized the Pokémon from Dr. Sun's story crowded around with keen interest. The day's first test was a severe insomniac who claimed no rest for three days.
"Doctor, can it really help him?" the patient's anxious wife asked, clinging to her husband's arm. The husband himself had hollowed eyes, a stooped posture, every bit the picture of restless exhaustion. "He's used so many sleeping pills, but they barely work now."
"We'll see," Dr. Sun said gently. "No guarantees, but we're cautiously optimistic." A bed was prepared. The man climbed in, watched by a small crowd of doctors, nurses, and even the hospital director. He shut his eyes but quickly opened them, apparently still too agitated to drift off. Hoothoot was perched on Lily's shoulder, scanning the environment.
"All right, Hoothoot, you know the drill," Lily whispered. She tapped the bird's head gently, urging it to use Hypnosis. The man blinked, meeting Hoothoot's large eyes. Within seconds, a faint ripple passed over him. He exhaled heavily, body slackening. The entire room seemed to hold its breath as he sank into the pillow.
The wife covered her mouth in awe. "He's asleep?" she asked.
One nurse snuck closer to check the patient's vitals. Dr. Sun gave a thumbs-up. "He's asleep, quite deeply, I'd say." Indeed, the man looked more peaceful than he had in weeks. Another nurse documented the time: only a few seconds to complete induction.
Word spread quickly down the hallway. More doctors ventured over to confirm the rumor: "That bird from Pokémon Biotech can fix a sleepless man in seconds." None had witnessed such a calm sedation process. Some half-joked about wanting one at home for their own restless nights.
Lily maintained composure. She had known Hoothoot's power for a while, but seeing it used in a real hospital context gave her renewed respect. "Just hope the effect is stable," she said quietly, observing the sleeper. If all went well, he might awaken hours later, at last rested.
After the demonstration concluded, Dr. Sun approached Lily with delight. "That was extraordinary. It's only day one, but I suspect we'll compile an entire case study. If these results hold, Hoothoot therapy could become a staple."
She nodded. "Mr. Grave always believed Hoothoot's gentle Hypnosis could surpass chemical solutions for certain conditions. If the patient continues well, we're ready to supply more of them if needed."
The hospital director chimed in, "This might be a game changer for insomnia. We'll proceed carefully but wholeheartedly."
Lily felt a surge of pride. This was just one more sign that Pokémon had countless practical applications beyond mere companionship. She recalled how others at the lab teased about Hoothoot's hypnosis only being good for putting stressed staffers to sleep. Now, it was proving to be a legitimate medical marvel.
That evening, Lily phoned Ethan, relaying the day's success. He responded with quiet satisfaction. "Awesome news," he said. "Once they gather enough data, we'll sign an agreement. The rest is up to them." He paused, thoughts drifting to the orchard's progress, the evolution fluid hype, and the many other Pokémon expansions. "Every step we take keeps proving that these creatures can integrate seamlessly into everyday life healthcare, emergencies, daily living."
Hanging up, he prepared for bed, half-expecting to find Pikachu or Wartortle hogging his pillow again. Yet he no longer minded. Being awakened by a playful Pokémon beats an alarm clock any day. Besides, with all these breakthroughs from the cone seeds to hospital collaborations he was ready to face tomorrow's tasks with renewed enthusiasm, certain that his vision for a more harmonious, Pokémon-integrated world was steadily becoming reality.