Wanderer of the Pokémon World

Chapter 236: Stun Stem

The white lab coat Rinko provided was clearly intended for an adult, and a tall one at that. On Xiu, it was comically oversized, the hem nearly brushing his ankles, and the sleeves dangling well past his fingertips. Rinko, seeing his predicament, let out a soft, amused laugh.

Xiu could only sigh and roll up the sleeves repeatedly until his hands were free. The length, however, was a lost cause. "Well, as long as it serves its purpose," he muttered, adjusting the ill-fitting garment.

"Wait," Rinko said, her amusement fading slightly. She retrieved a disposable face mask and a pair of protective goggles from a nearby cabinet. "Some of the materials I'm working with needs a certain level of care to handle. It's best to take precautions."

Xiu nodded, appreciating her thoroughness. He donned the mask and goggles, then looked back at Rinko, signaling he was ready.

The lab itself wasn't the gleaming, state-of-the-art facility Xiu might have expected, given the Murasame family's reputation. It was a large, though not of the same scale as Professor Oak's.

The walls and floor were tiled in plain white porcelain with two large exhaust fans whirred quietly in opposite corners, maintaining airflow. Opposite the entrance, a sealed glass chamber stood ready for emergencies.

Various machines – grinders, dryers, extractors, some large and imposing, others small and specialized – lined the walls or stood on sturdy workbenches. Wooden cabinets displayed rows of glass bottles and jars, filled with powders, liquids, and dried plant matter of every conceivable color and texture.

Adequate, Xiu assessed, but… old. Having spent considerable time in Oak's lab, he recognized most of the equipment, though much of it appeared to be older models. He then noticed Rinko's Gloom resting contentedly by a large window, soaking up the sunlight, seemingly asleep.

Rinko allowed him a few moments to take it all in, then gestured towards one of the workbenches. "This is where I typically process the raw materials."

Xiu examined the setup. Several machines were connected in a rough sequence with piles of unidentifiable dried plant matter sat on the table, awaiting processing. "Materials generally need to be cleaned, dried, and then crushed or ground to extract their active compounds or prepare them for storage," Rinko explained, pointing to each machine in turn, briefly outlining its function.

"Let me help," Xiu offered, grasping the basic workflow immediately. The initial steps seemed straightforward, requiring more diligence than specialized skill. "Just tell me what goes where."

"Be careful," Rinko cautioned, though she seemed pleased by his offer.

"Don't worry, Miss Rinko," Xiu reassured her. "I've spent enough time assisting Professor Oak to be familiar with standard lab procedures and safety protocols." He waited for her instructions, then set to work with a focused efficiency that clearly impressed her.

The machinery, as he'd suspected, was indeed somewhat antiquated. Each step required manual operation – loading materials, setting timers, transferring processed goods to the next stage.

If this were my operation, Xiu mused, I'd automate this like a production line. Feed raw materials in one end, get packaged product out the other. But he kept the thought to himself, instead suggesting a few minor modifications to her current workflow, ways to improve efficiency.

Rinko listened politely but declined his suggestions with a gentle smile. "These machines… they were my parents'," she explained softly. "Maintaining them… it's a way to feel connected to their work. And," she added, a hint of wistfulness in her voice, "it helps pass the time."

Xiu said nothing further, simply focusing on the task at hand. He understood. This wasn't just a laboratory for her; it was a legacy, a sanctuary. Her movements as she worked were fluid, practiced, almost ritualistic.

There was a strange, timeless quality to the scene – the quiet hum of the old machines, the scent of dried herbs, Rinko moving with a serene, focused grace as sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the motes of dust dancing in the air.

For a moment, Xiu felt surreal, as if he had stepped into a painting, a frozen moment of peace. Then, the illusion passed, and it was just a young woman and a young man, working side-by-side in an old laboratory.

They worked in comfortable silence for a while, punctuated by occasional questions from Xiu or instructions from Rinko. Soon, a significant portion of the raw materials had been processed, weighed, and packaged.

"Miss Rinko," Xiu asked, as he helped her bag and label the finished products, "are all these materials available for purchase? Or are some reserved for your own research?"

"Most of what we cultivate here can be sold," Rinko replied, meticulously recording data in a ledger. "There are a few exceptions, of course. Certain rare specimens, or those with restrictions. Stun Stem, for example. That, we do not sell."

The mention of Stun Stem caught Xiu's attention. He was familiar with the common variety – its effects were mild and temporary, mostly used as a minor ingredient in tranquilizer darts for capturing Pokémon, or by some Trainers in specialized food supplements to marginally enhance the paralyzing effect of certain moves.

"Stun Stem?" he queried. "As I recall, that's not on the League's list of restricted botanical substances." Generally, only plants with truly dangerous or permanently harmful effects on humans or Pokémon were banned from open trade.

Rinko chuckled softly, a knowing glint in her red eyes. "Ah, you're thinking of the common Stun Stem, the kind found wild in most forests. The strain we cultivate here… it's different. Considerably more potent. A mere pinch of our variety can incapacitate a fully grown adult and induce complete muscular paralysis within seconds."

Xiu's expression turned serious. He himself had experimented with common Stun Stem, experiencing firsthand the unpleasant, tingling numbness, and the brief loss of muscle control.

It was uncomfortable, but was temporary and passed quickly. But what Rinko described was on an entirely different level. His interest was piqued.