Of course, what truly troubled Xiu wasn't the overwhelming variety, but the small numbers printed beneath each brightly colored bag. 'The price...'
A standard ten-pound bag of the most basic, generic Pokémon kibble cost several hundred Poké Dollars. Specialized formulas, type-specific blends, or higher quality brands? Those easily climbed into the thousands.
It might not sound like much in isolation, but compared against his meager park ranger salary – a paltry 2,000 Poké Dollars for a full month's work, before deductions – the cost was painfully obvious.
'But I can't let Abra suffer,' Xiu reasoned, guilt gnawing at him. That wasn't right. Not after what it had been through.
He spent a long time in that aisle, meticulously comparing ingredients lists (as much as he could decipher), nutritional values, and, most importantly, price per pound. He ignored the flashy packaging, the celebrity trainer endorsements, focusing purely on finding the most cost-effective option that wouldn't be complete garbage. Finally, agonizingly, he made a choice – a large sack of moderately priced, all-purpose pellets. It still felt like highway robbery.
He added a few other small necessities to his basket – more basic wound powder, some clean bandages he spotted on sale – paid at the counter, the transaction making a significant dent in his remaining funds, and left the shopping plaza without browsing further.
But today, instead of heading directly back to his isolated cabin to read or brood, Xiu turned in a different direction, walking towards another sector of the sprawling Wilderness Area park.
He passed the modern administrative buildings near the South Gate, the paved paths gradually giving way to open plains. In the distance, a sturdy wire fence enclosed a large, designated area. At its center stood a substantial two-story wooden building, much larger and better maintained than his own cabin.
Within the enclosure, numerous staff members in distinct light-blue uniforms moved purposefully among a variety of Pokémon. These weren't the wild inhabitants of the park, though. Many bore bandages, splints, or moved with noticeable limps or weakness. Cages and temporary pens dotted the landscape.
This was the Park Rescue Station, a semi-autonomous facility dedicated to treating injured or abandoned Pokémon found within or near the park's boundaries. Tourists were sometimes brought here for supervised visits, part of the park's outreach program.
As Xiu approached the gate, several staff members looked up and waved, recognizing him.
"Xiu! Back for more work?" one called out with a friendly grin.
Xiu offered a tired smile back. "Stationmaster mentioned you might need an extra hand. Got some free time today."
"Always need help!" the staffer laughed. "Go on up, check in with the boss first."
"Will do." Xiu nodded, continuing towards the main building. More greetings followed from others working nearby; he seemed surprisingly familiar to the staff here. He returned each greeting with a polite nod or wave, navigating through the organized bustle.
Stepping inside the main building, the air hummed with activity. The large central hall was partitioned into various treatment areas, observation pens, and supply storage zones. Staff hurried back and forth, tending to Pokémon of all shapes and sizes. Most looked unwell, some critically so.
He carefully skirted around a group moving a large Snorlax on a reinforced gurney and headed deeper inside, spotting an older man in a clean white lab coat conferring with a nurse near a bank of incubators.
"Xiu? Didn't expect you today," the old man said, turning as Xiu approached. This was Stationmaster Hideki, the man in charge.
Xiu managed a weary smile. "You mentioned being short-staffed last time I was here, Stationmaster. Things are quiet on my route today, thought I'd come lend a hand."
The Stationmaster chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Or you ran out of pocket money again, eh?" he teased good-naturedly. "Alright, alright, head on back. Just don't let me catch you slacking."
"Wouldn't dream of it, sir!" Xiu replied gratefully.
He hurried to the back room, donned a borrowed set of the light-blue work coveralls hanging there, and joined the others, seamlessly blending into the workflow.
He knew the truth. This Rescue Station wasn't officially hiring temporary, daily-wage workers like him. His presence here was entirely due to the Stationmaster's quiet kindness, a form of disguised charity, offering him a way to earn desperately needed extra cash whenever Xiu showed up willing to work hard. He took whatever task was assigned – cleaning pens, preparing food, assisting with basic treatments under supervision, moving supplies – without complaint, determined not to squander the opportunity.
"Hey, hey! Transport's here! Need hands unloadin'!" a voice shouted from the entrance as activity in the hall paused, heads turning. A few designated staff members broke away and headed outside. Xiu, always eager to prove his worth, followed them.
As they walked towards the loading bay, hushed murmurs passed between the regular staff.
"...getting bolder lately, attacking transports directly..."
"...how dare they! Aren't they afraid of the League patrols?"
"...heard there was a major crackdown near Cerulean..."
Outside, a sturdy jeep bearing the official Pokémon League insignia – distinct from the park's logo – was parked. The driver, clad in a League security uniform, was handing a datapad over to Stationmaster Hideki, whose expression looked unusually grim as he reviewed the information.
Xiu didn't linger, didn't try to eavesdrop. He was waved over to the back of the jeep to help unload.
The cargo bed was filled with sealed cardboard crates. No markings indicated the contents, but Xiu knew from previous stints here what they held: Poké Balls. Dozens, maybe hundreds. Confiscated from poachers or illegal breeders, likely intercepted by League officers or Ranger patrols. The injured or traumatized Pokémon within were brought here for stabilization and rehabilitation.
They formed a chain, carefully moving the crates inside. Batches of Poké Balls were opened, releasing a flood of Pokémon into designated receiving pens. The scene was heartbreaking. Most looked weak, malnourished, many bearing fresh or poorly healed injuries – scars, burns, broken limbs. Fear radiated from them.
But the Rescue Station staff were professionals. No panic, no shock. They moved with practiced efficiency, triaging, assessing, beginning treatments in a calm, orderly flow.
Xiu worked alongside them, fetching supplies, holding struggling Pokémon steady, cleaning enclosures. The work was demanding, emotionally draining, but necessary. Morning bled into afternoon, then evening. The sheer volume of Pokémon from this latest transport was overwhelming. They worked long past the usual closing time, under the harsh glare of portable floodlights, finally finishing the initial intake and stabilization procedures well after nine o'clock.
Exhausted but satisfied, Xiu collected his modest pay for the day's work – enough to cover Abra's food for a while, at least. He changed back into his own clothes and began the long walk back to his cabin.
"Time to go home," he muttered, stretching his aching back.
Once he moved beyond the radius of the Rescue Station's lights, the park plunged into near-total darkness. Tonight, thankfully, a bright moon hung high in the sky, casting long, eerie shadows through the trees, silvering the edges of leaves.
Most diurnal Pokémon were asleep now. Only nocturnal creatures like Oddish or Hoothoot rustled in the undergrowth or called softly from the branches. The usual nighttime sounds only amplified the feeling of isolation, making the familiar forest path seem strangely alien, even menacing.
'Only reason I dare walk here at night is because park Pokémon are generally conditioned not to attack humans,' Xiu thought. 'Out in the truly wild areas? No way.' He quickened his pace slightly.
The walk felt interminable tonight, his fatigue making each step heavier than the last. The monotony stretched.
Then, something caught his eye. Ahead, near the riverbank he was approaching, a faint, intermittent pinpoint of light pulsed softly in the darkness. Almost invisible. If it hadn't been pitch black, he would have missed it entirely.
Curiosity piqued, overriding his exhaustion for a moment. 'What could it be?' He slowed his steps, approaching cautiously, peering into the shadows.
Before he could get much closer, the light spot moved, drifting slowly downstream along the river's current. It seemed to be floating on the water. That spurred him on. He quickened his pace again, drawing nearer.
As the object came into clearer view under the moonlight, Xiu stopped dead, dumbfounded. It wasn't just a light; it was emanating from a smooth, oval shape floating precariously on the water's surface. An egg. A Pokémon egg.
And beneath it, several dark, indistinct shapes darted aggressively in the water, bumping against the egg, trying to nudge it under or crack it open.
"Damn Magikarp!" Xiu cursed under his breath, recognizing the opportunistic scavengers. 'They'd eat anything!' He didn't hesitate. Snapping a sturdy branch from a nearby bush, he rushed to the riverbank, splashing aggressively into the shallow water, swinging the branch to drive the hungry Magikarp away.
Once they scattered, he carefully scooped the glowing egg out of the water. It felt surprisingly solid, warm despite its dip in the river.
"It's hatching," He realized, staring at the faint, pulsing light emanating from within the shell. That meant it was vulnerable, needed warmth, stability. He couldn't just leave it here. Cradling the egg gently but securely against his chest, Xiu turned and ran back towards his cabin as fast as his tired legs could carry him.
Bursting through the door, he gently placed the egg on the quilt covering his bed. But as he watched, the internal glow faded, sputtered, and died completely. The egg became inert, just a patterned shell.
Xiu stared at it, bewildered. "What? Did it get waterlogged? Can that happen?"
He'd never handled a Pokémon egg before. He had no idea what was normal, what the fading light meant. 'Was it dying? Was it just resting?' Feeling utterly lost, he decided the only thing he could do was provide warmth and wait. He carefully arranged the quilt around the egg, then released Abra from its Poké Ball, hoping the small psychic Pokémon might sense something he couldn't.