"Ugh… vomit… I should've never agreed to this… vomit!"
Su Feng never imagined this small orchard could hide so many Grimer.
Staring at the dozens of squelching purple sludge creatures writhing before him, Su Feng fell into deep contemplation.
After accepting Old Chen's request, he'd rushed to this forested area. After showing his credentials to the local fruit farmers, he'd begun investigating the "stinky Pokémon" plaguing the orchard. He'd had his suspicions, but nothing prepared him for the reality.
Until he smelled them.
"Chir… chir…"
Torchic, overwhelmed by its sensitive sense of smell, teetered on the brink of passing out. Su Feng hurriedly exchanged points for two gas masks—one for himself, one for Torchic.
With the masks on, Su Feng marveled at the simple joy of breathing clean air—though a faint whiff of rot still lingered.
"Haaah… I'm alive again."
Deciding misery loved company, Su Feng turned on his livestream.
"Heeey, everyone! Had lunch yet?"
His voice was muffled by the mask, but regular viewers recognized it instantly.
[Why's the streamer wearing a gas mask?]
[Pfft, new cosplay?]
[Yep, eating right now!]
[Treated myself to your signature grilled fish today!]
[I'm having curry. So good!]
"Glad you're eating. Didn't want to traumatize empty stomachs."
He panned the camera to the Grimer, triggering a chat explosion.
[WHAT ARE THOSE SQUISHY BLOTCHES!?]
[He's 100% doing this on purpose during mealtime!]
[I'm a historian—this is literally history! (Note: "史" sounds like "shit" in Chinese.)]
[They look like sewer sludge…]
[NOOO MY CURRY—vomit noises—]
[My sanity's draining just looking at them.]
[Now I get why he's wearing that mask.]
Mission accomplished, Su Feng gleefully launched into his "educational" spiel.
"Grimer, the Sludge Pokémon. Legends say they formed when lunar X-rays irradiated seabed sludge, granting it mobility."
"If you encounter them in the wild, stay far away—though your nose'll warn you before I do."
"Grimer adore filth. Their bodies constantly secrete bacteria-laced fluids and unimaginable stench. Their evolution, Muk, could literally smell you to death."
[I believe it. The stink radiates through the screen.]
[The gas mask is proof enough.]
[Do we really need to study these things? (T_T)]
"Of course we do!" Su Feng said solemnly. "Grimer might look and smell awful, but they're environmental heroes."
"They devour trash, but their favorite meal? Polluted wastewater from factories."
"Toxic sludge is their gourmet feast. Factories struggling with wastewater disposal should hire them. They get a buffet, you get clean water—win-win!"
The chat exploded.
[Seriously!? Grimer can clean wastewater!?]
[Our factory will adopt these Grimer RIGHT NOW!]
[Streamer, check your DMs! We'll take care of them!]
[Who knew these gross blobs could be useful…]
Industrial wastewater had long plagued factories. Safe disposal was expensive, time-consuming, and labor-intensive—leading many to illegally dump toxins into rivers. Now, factories saw a free, legal solution.
"Factories interested in adopting Grimer, DM me your details. Selected candidates must bring large, sealed containers—think bulletproof glass tanks—and arrange helicopter transport. Cut corners, and I'll reject you. For your sake and the Grimer's, act fast!"
Zhang Zheng, owner of a dyeing textile factory, sat at his dinner table, sighing. His business was drowning in wastewater. The dyeing process produced toxic runoff filled with chemicals and pigments—expensive to treat legally, impossible for his struggling factory.
He faced two choices: illegally dump the waste and poison local rivers, or watch his life's work go bankrupt.
"Sigh…"
His son, Zhang Ling, a middle school graduate, glanced up from his phone. He'd opened Su Feng's stream out of habit, expecting another offline notice. Instead:
"Heeey, everyone! Had lunch yet?"
Zhang Ling smirked at Su Feng and Torchic's gas-masked antics, typing: [Eating right now!]
"Glad you're eating. Didn't want to traumatize empty stomachs."
Then the camera revealed the writhing Grimer.
Zhang Ling: "…"
Zhang Zheng peeked at the screen. "Why watch this gross stuff during dinner?"
"Not my fault it's live!"
Their father-son bond was more like friendship—Zhang Zheng didn't police his son's hobbies, as long as grades stayed up.
But as Su Feng explained Grimer's wastewater-eating abilities, Zhang Ling's eyes widened.
"DAD! OUR FACTORY CAN BE SAVED!"