Chapter 34: Blacksmith Street

Arlo exited the Radiance Garden Mega Mall, clutching the carefully packed Pokémon egg in his hands. A smile played on his lips as he navigated through the bustling city streets. The glow of neon signs reflected off the polished egg case, reminding him of the countless hours he'd spent watching trainers hatch and raise their Pokémon on old forums.

"Finally," he thought, stepping onto the train platform. "My very own Pokémon."

The rhythmic hum of the train provided a soothing backdrop as he sat by the window, the egg securely nestled in his lap. Arlo couldn't help but hum the familiar tune of the Pokémon theme song under his breath, catching a few curious glances from fellow passengers. He didn't care. In his mind, he was already envisioning himself with his Pokémon partner exploring uncharted areas, facing challenges, and maybe, just maybe, reenacting a few of his favorite battles from the anime.

As the train approached his stop, Arlo carefully adjusted his grip on the egg case, a sense of responsibility washing over him.

"This isn't just a dream anymore," he murmured. "I've got to do this right."

Stepping off the train, Arlo weaved through the residential district until he reached his apartment building. The journey felt longer than usual, his anticipation growing with each step.

Closing the door behind him, Arlo let out a sigh of relief and placed the egg case gently on his table. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of his Quantum Cube's energy core. He sank into his chair, hands resting on the desk as he stared at the case.

"Alright, partner," he said softly, unfastening the latches. The lid opened with a satisfying click, revealing the Pokémon egg cradled in soft padding.

"Rockruff," Arlo whispered, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He'd always had a soft spot for the [Dusk Form Lycanroc], its design and abilities having resonated with him ever since he first played the Sun and Moon games. The thought of having a loyal, determined partner like Rockruff was exhilarating.

He carefully placed the Moo Moo Milk and Pokémon food into his refrigerator for safekeeping, already planning a proper feast for his soon-to-be companion. 

The egg's surface shimmered faintly under the room's lighting. Arlo activated his [Observe] , the familiar interface appearing before his eyes.

[Rockruff (Egg)]

Hatching Time: Approximately 2 Days

Potential: Elite Pokemon

Condition: Health

"Two days," Arlo muttered, leaning back in his chair. "Not bad. Not bad at all."

He watched the egg for a moment longer, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. This wasn't just a game or a distant dream. Soon, he'd have a Pokémon of his own a partner to train, grow with, and explore the world.

Carefully, he lifted the egg out of its case and placed it into the incubator he'd purchased earlier. The device beeped softly as it adjusted the temperature, ensuring optimal conditions for hatching. Arlo fiddled with the controls, setting reminders to check on the egg's status periodically.

Can't afford to mess this up, he thought, double-checking the incubator's settings.

Once satisfied, Arlo stepped back and admired the setup. The egg sat snugly within the incubator, its faint glow adding a touch of magic to the otherwise mundane apartment.

"Welcome home," he whispered with a grin, feeling an odd sense of pride. It wasn't just a Pokémon egg, it was a step forward, a tangible milestone in his journey.

.....

Taking a seat on the couch, Arlo stretched his legs and opened his BrainLink to the HUBNet, his thoughts drifting between excitement and curiosity. He pulled up articles on Pokémon care, researching everything from training tips to bonding techniques in the Pokemon Community Forum.

"Gotta be prepared," he mused, bookmarking a few pages for later. As much as he wanted to dive into charm-making or other projects, his focus was on the egg. This was a moment he didn't want to rush or dilute with distractions.

The room fell into a comfortable silence as Arlo leaned back, watching the incubator's gentle hum. He felt a wave of contentment wash over him, the anticipation making the air feel electric.

"Two days," he repeated with a smile. "Let's make them count." 

....

Arlo set the Pokémon egg carefully into the incubator, ensuring it was secure and temperature settings were optimal. With the faint hum of the incubator filling the quiet room, he turned his attention to another project that had been lingering in his mind charm-making.

The thought of creating his own mystical items had fascinated him for as long as he could remember, but it was the Freddy Krueger bladed glove in his possession that sparked a new level of determination.

He pulled the glove out of his inventory and set it on his desk, its jagged blades gleaming ominously under the light. The glove seemed to pulse faintly, as if the remnants of Freddy's dream-based power still clung to it

"Figures," Arlo muttered, leaning back in his chair. "This thing's as dangerous as it is fascinating."

His research into charm-making had revealed the process to be intricate and expensive, but with Freddy's glove as a potential source, he might be able to bypass some of the more prohibitive costs.

Charms required a high-level existence's essence, something that could manifest through relics like this one. The symbols, materials, and stabilizers would require precision, and the activation incantations would need to align perfectly with the charm's intended purpose.

He opened his HUBnet and began pulling up articles on charm crafting, scrolling through diagrams and ancient formulas.

This might just work, he thought, making notes on how to extract and stabilize the dream-based energy. The glove could potentially yield a [Slumber Charm] or even a [Dream Charm], mystical item that could protect the holder from nightmares or enhance dream exploration.

But it wasn't without risks.

"This isn't like crafting a potion," he reminded himself. "One wrong step, and I could end up with a corrupted charm—or worse, unleash whatever's left of Freddy."

He leaned forward, tracing his fingers over the glove's surface. The idea of channeling its power felt both exhilarating and terrifying. Could he turn something born of nightmares into a tool for good? The irony wasn't lost on him.

Still, there was a practical side to his hesitation. Charm-making burned through money like a wildfire. Precious metals, stabilizers, and high-quality materials weren't cheap, even with his recent influx of credits. He sighed, glancing at his remaining balance. He wasn't broke, but a single misstep could set him back significantly.

"Maybe it's better to focus on the egg for now," he thought, his gaze shifting to the incubator. The egg's glow was steady and comforting, a reminder of the simpler joys he'd been looking forward to. "This glove isn't going anywhere."

He placed the glove back into his inventory and decided to let the idea simmer for a while longer. His priority, for now, was the Pokémon egg and ensuring everything was ready for its arrival.

"Balance," he murmured, standing up and stretching. "Let's not get too caught up in one thing."

Arlo moved to the couch, his thoughts still divided between the excitement of his soon-to-hatch partner and the possibilities of charm-making. As the incubator hummed softly, he pulled up a videos on the HUBNet, something light to take his mind off the complexities ahead.

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[Quantum Cube Apartment Complex: Arlo's Room - Morning]

A new day came and Arlo decide to relax for a bit, he leaned back on the couch, letting the dramatic sounds of clashing swords and triumphant shouts from the tournament video fill the room.

On the HUBNet, a compilation of the "Strongest Pioneer Tournament" was playing, showcasing brutal fights that made him wince. One competitor was launched across the arena by an oversized axe, their shield barely holding together. Another was using some kind of energy whip, expertly disarming their opponent. It wasn't exactly Arlo's idea of entertainment, but the sheer popularity of the event piqued his curiosity.

"Roman gladiator vibes," he muttered under his breath, watching a slow-motion replay of someone deflecting a spear with a glowing gauntlet. The crowd's cheers almost drowned out the commentator. "I guess some things never change. Just swap swords with plasma weapons."

A notification blinked in the corner of his HUD: [Aria Hartman]

Arlo swiped the air in front of him, opening the video call. Aria's face appeared on the screen, looking as sharp and serious as ever.

"Arlo, I'm on my way to your apartment," she said without preamble.

"Uh, sure. What's the plan?" he asked, already knowing she wouldn't come by just for small talk.

Aria's expression softened slightly. "I'm taking you to meet someone who can help you improve your combat ability. Gear, items, trinkets, weapons or whatever you're missing."

"Wait, you mean we're shopping for gear?" Arlo raised an eyebrow. "You're not dragging me into some Pioneer fight pit, right?"

Aria smirked faintly. "Relax. This isn't about throwing you into the arena. It's about introducing you to a blacksmith I trust. Trust me, you'll thank me later."

After the call ended, Arlo sighed and glanced at the incubator on his desk. The Pokémon egg sat snugly inside, glowing faintly under the warmth of the device.

He checked the timer through his [Observe] :

[Rockruff (Egg)]

Hatching Time: 1 Day Left

"One more day," he murmured with a smile.

He stood and grabbed a clean shirt and a jacket, shaking off his earlier lethargy. By the time he left the Quantum Cube, Aria's sleek hovercar was waiting outside.

The hovercar's polished black exterior reflected the surrounding city lights, and Aria was already in the driver's seat.

Sliding into the passenger side, Arlo buckled up. "So, what's this blacksmith like? Do they take commissions, or do I have to barter with rare materials?"

"You'll see soon enough," Aria replied, tapping the controls. The car hummed to life and ascended into the air. "Just don't embarrass yourself." "That's... not reassuring," Arlo muttered, as the cityscape blurred into streaks of neon and glass below them.

.....

[Norther shopping District: Blacksmith Street]

Aria's sleek hovercar hummed to a stop just outside the bustling Northern Area of the shopping district. Arlo's gaze wandered over the vibrant streets, teeming with Pioneers of all levels. The metallic scent of freshly forged steel mingled with the smoky aroma of nearby forges.

"Welcome to Blacksmith Street," Aria announced, stepping out of the hovercar. "This place is where dreams of better gear are either made or shattered, depending on how deep your pockets go."

Arlo followed, taking in the clanging sounds of hammers striking anvils and the occasional flash of molten sparks. He glanced at Aria. "So...about that S-rank evaluation. Are you sure it won't cause any trouble? I'd rather not have every guild breathing down my neck."

Aria gave him a reassuring smile as they walked. "Don't overthink it. The Association has clear rules. No guild can pressure a Trainee Pioneer into joining. Besides, being noticed isn't a bad thing. It shows you're capable."

"Easy for you to say," Arlo muttered under his breath, his nerves only slightly soothed. He still wasn't used to being in the spotlight. He'd prefer to quietly level up his skills, not have the world watching his every move.

As they entered Blacksmith Street proper, Arlo's attention was immediately captured by the myriad of weapons on display. Swords with glowing runes, heavy warhammers that looked like they could crush a car, and sleek spears that radiated elemental energy lined the racks. Each weapon seemed to hum with purpose, a testament to the craftsmanship of the smiths.

"Wow," Arlo breathed, stopping to admire a massive claymore suspended in a holographic display.

The blade shimmered faintly with a frost enchantment. "This is like walking through an RPG armory. All that's missing are the NPCs shouting, 'What are ya buyin'?'"

Aria chuckled, pulling him along. "Keep your wallet in check, Arlo. The real treasures aren't always on display."

Eventually, they arrived at a shop with a weathered sign that read [Battle Iron]. The storefront was unassuming compared to the others, but the faint hum of magic emanating from within hinted at the quality of its wares.

"Battle Iron," Aria said, pushing open the door. "The owner, Damir, is one of the best smiths around Ataraxis. He doesn't just sell weapons—he crafts them to match a Pioneer's fighting style and abilities. Trust me, you're in good hands."

Inside, the atmosphere was alive with the rhythm of hammer strikes and the hiss of molten metal being cooled. Rows of weapons lined the walls, and a few Pioneers were scattered about, examining the stock. Behind the counter stood a burly man with a thick beard and arms that looked like they could bend steel.

That was Arlos first impression of the Aria friend but hopeful that Damir is not one of those typical dwarf like in pop culture in his past life but one thing that still stick the same that they are great at blacksmithing and craftsmanship. Then Arlo lost in his thought awake from Damir deep voice.