Chapter 29: Raid on the Champagne Field

Qianlin treaded carefully along the mountain path.

The trail, long untrodden, was overgrown with weeds. He had to be extra cautious with every step, fearing he might misstep and tumble. Although his constitution meant a fall likely wouldn't cause serious injury, it would still hurt.

Swablu flew ahead. Since the person in the cabin possessed equipment like his, they must have watched his livestream and would recognize the Pokémon.

[We can start imagining how to roast that guy now.]
[Roast him?]
[Let’s see what kind of person he is first. If he’s some arrogant punk, we go straight for the insults.]
[Any suggestions from the channel mods?]
[In this kind of plot, the person inside is definitely a beautiful girl. First, trigger a side quest, then play the hero saving the damsel, capture a new Pokémon, and finally, gain a permanent beautiful girl and a new Pokémon for the stream. My suggestion: raid the champagne factory, go for a surprise attack!]
[As expected of the mod, Shanghai is in.]
[As expected of the mod, Sichuan is in.]
[As expected of the mod, Beijing is in.]
[As expected of the mod... wait, is this really the time for champagne?]
[Eat, drink, and be merry today; don't worry about the lemons tomorrow.]

A vein throbbed on Qianlin’s forehead. Does this damn mod have a grudge against me?

Still... he felt a tiny bit of anticipation about the "beautiful girl" part. Having watched so much Pokémon anime in his past life, it seemed like every time Ash encountered a similar event, there would be a new beautiful girl... or a new Pokémon.

He was actually quite looking forward to it.

After ten minutes of nonsense in the chat, Qianlin finally stood at the entrance of the small wooden cabin.

It was indeed quite small—a shack built of logs at the foot of the mountain, surrounded by piles of firewood. With no electricity or water, it was likely just a storage shed. The door was a makeshift panel of interwoven branches; the only way to open it was to lift it, move it aside, and set it down.

"Chirp~" Swablu landed on Qianlin’s head, chirping softly at him. She had heard sounds inside but couldn't open the door herself.

He couldn't exactly blast it open with a move.

"Good job," Qianlin said, scratching Swablu’s chin. He walked to the doorway, but instead of opening it immediately, he called out, "Is anyone in there? I’m Qianlin. I’m here to... uh... save you?"

[Why the question mark?]
[You should shout: 'Listen up, people inside, this is Qianlin! You are surrounded! Drop your weapons and come out, or I’ll have Swablu use Dragon Pulse to blow the whole house to the sky!']
[Good grief, American-style rescue, is it?]
[No, that’s Russian-style.]

After that, Qianlin stayed silent, pricking his ears to listen for movement inside.

*Rustle, rustle*—it was impossible to tell if it was human or animal, but there was definitely something in there. If there had been no sound, he would have opened the door, but now he needed to be careful.

He spoke again: "I’m not sure if you are a human or a Pokémon, and I don't know if you’ll attack me. So I’ll ask one more time. If you don't answer, I’ll assume you’re a Pokémon and leave immediately."

"Is anyone in there? I’m Qianlin, and I’m here to save you."

The rustling grew more distinct; something seemed to be moving toward the door. Just as Qianlin prepared to have Swablu force the door open, a hoarse voice drifted out.

"Someone..."

The voice was weak, raspy, and carried a hint of a sob.

Qianlin let out a sigh of relief. Without further hesitation, he lifted the door and set it aside, peering into the shack.

As expected, it was a storage shed filled with untreated logs. A figure lay half-reclined to the right of the entrance, leaning against a woodpile.

The sudden influx of light made the person instinctively close their eyes, but a moment later, they forced them open, staring at Qianlin with dry, sunken eyes, their lips trembling.

It was a young man. His body and face were covered in sawdust and dust, making his age hard to guess. He had likely gone days without food; his exposed skin looked withered. While he wasn't exactly skin and bones, his facial features had become sharply defined by his skull.

Qianlin took a deep breath, walked in, and crouched before him. "Can you move?"

The man struggled to speak, his mouth forming a faint sound before he shook his head in resignation. Seeing his state, Qianlin didn't press him. He set down his backpack, pulled out a water bottle, poured a little into the cap, and held it to the man's lips.

The man gave him a grateful look, gently bit the cap, and took small sips.

Qianlin exhaled and looked toward the camera. "Mods, help me ask: what should I do in this situation?"

(A highlighted, colorful message appeared): [There is glucose in the backpack. Give him some, small amounts, frequently. Use warm water if possible, but keep it at a low temperature. Small amounts, frequent intervals. If there's enough time, there’s liquid food in the vehicle; let him have a tiny bit first, just a tiny bit, to help his stomach function recover. Leave the rest to the hospital.]

[Whoa, colorful text!]
[A pro!]
[Wait, I’ve sent so many gifts, why don’t I have colorful text?]
[Don't even start, even I don't have it as a mod.]

Qianlin put the cap away and searched his pack, finding a pouch of glucose water. He opened it, poured some into the cap, and said, "Drink some more water. Later, I’ll take you to camp, get you some liquid food, and then send you back."

Upon hearing he was being sent back, the man broke his silence, speaking with great urgency: "No... no... I... I have to... find Grandpa’s... photo... Grandpa only had... that one photo..."

Perhaps because of the water, his voice was less raspy than before.

Qianlin paused. "Did you run back here just to find a photo of your grandfather?"

The man nodded. "Grandpa... has been gone for many years. He only left... one photo. He... he was a good man. I miss him so much... but the photo... I can't find it... it’s not... in the house..."

A tear traced a path down his cheek.

He hadn't cried when his supplies were lost, he hadn't cried when trapped in the cabin, he hadn't cried when his body reached its limit, and he hadn't cried when facing death. Yet, speaking of his grandfather’s keepsake, he couldn't hold back the tears.

A person missing their kin, returning to a home occupied by Pokémon for the sake of the only remaining photo of their relative, only to find it missing.

"I understand," Qianlin sighed. "But how are you going to look for it in your current state?"

The man opened his mouth but said nothing.

If the man were in good health, Qianlin wouldn't mind helping him search for the photo. But in his current state, he couldn't even stand up. He needed to focus on staying alive first.

Putting away the glucose and the cup, Qianlin patted Swablu on his head. "I’ll get you out of here first. I can try to help you look for it during this time. If your grandfather was as good a man as you say, he wouldn't want to see you put yourself in danger for a photo of him."