Step 16: Steam Work (Patreon)

Step 16: Steam Work

Kurt’s Workshop, Azalea Town.

A steady rhythm had settled in since my arrival at Kurt’s. Mostly percussive, given the several different types of hammers and chisels in use during the art of apriball crafting.

There were days I even found myself bobbing my head to an imaginary beat, taking over the Klingklang caused by the workshop bangarang. Fortunately for whoever was knocking on the door of the manor, unlike both Kurt and April, tinnitus hadn’t yet managed to fully take root, so I was actually able to hear them knuckling for entry.

Dropping the ninth apricorn half I’d been working on since the morning, as well as the square of sandpaper that by this point had almost lost all its grit, I got up. Uncrossing my legs from under the cosy kotatsu, I shook off the pins and needles, and answered the door. 

Opening it, the polite greeting I’d usually spout died before it could exit my throat. One, two, three, and as my gaze swept from one familiar face to the next, I peered down at the ground and sure enough; I added another half to the mental tally. I blinked. Scrubbed my eyes in lieu of a more obvious double-take. Misty, Brock, Ash, and, of course, Pikachu were randomly standing in front of me.

“Uh, hello?” Misty waved an irritated hand a few inches away from my glazed eyes. 

They wouldn’t get an answer out of me that easily. I didn’t tilt my head at them just because I was confused; I was also letting gravity do its work, therefore allowing my hopes and dreams for a peaceful life to flow out of my ears. 

If there was one universal constant that pertained exclusively to reincarnation and isekais, it was that getting yourself involved with the protagonists was less a fun trip down memory lane, and more along the painful lines getting dragged by rope from the back of a speeding car on a road littered with potholes. 

In effect, if you were both tough and insane enough, you’d have the time of your life. Otherwise, be prepared to leave a red smear.

Suffice it to say, for someone like me who was committed to sitting my ass in the lap of luxury (eventually), granting entry to these three bozos was out of the question. I might as well smother my lips in chapstick and kiss my easy existence goodbye. I’d chosen move-tutoring and apriball manufacturing as my career instead of some theme song worthy grand adventure purely for their premium payouts and distance from danger.. 

“Ahem!” Misty’s mood hadn’t improved during my extended silence. “Anyone home? Specifically, anyone named Kurt?” 

“No. Good day.” Wrenching the doorknob, I hurried to slam the door shut. Doing anything else was just asking for the proverbial sword of Damocles to bounce off their plot armour and decapitate me instead. 

But before I could get it all the way shut, a burly arm shot through, caught the edge of the wood, and overpowered my swing. “Wait! Please! We just need someone to take a look at this ball!”

If Brock was gonna stop me from completing my block, he couldn’t blame me for capitalising on the opening he’d left, too. Raising my eyebrow alongside a contemptuous curl of my lip, I fixed the trio with a most severe disappointment on my face, and spoke with the driest deadpan drawl I could drum up. “My apologies, sir. But we do not offer those kinds of services at this establishment. Perhaps you can try your luck at Ecruteak. I’m told there are several red lantern back-alleys near the historic dance theatre that might be able to… satiate your needs.” Then I pointedly glanced up at the mid-morning sun blazing above us. “Even at this early hour.” 

Brock’s eyes widened - well, actually just his brows raised up; either way, his mortification was palpable. Misty, likewise, went red in anger, shame, and stood as stiff as the morning wood I’d alluded to.

“Huh? What do red lanterns have to do with Pokéballs?” No surprise that Ash, the eternal ten-year-old, didn’t get the seedy reference. “Look, man, Professor Oak and Professor Ivy sent us here to hand over at this weird Pokéball to see if someone can get it open. He said Kurt should be expecting us.”

“Chu! Pika-pi.” I gasped at the audacity of the Pokémon. Don’t you talk to me like that, you sparking yellow rat!

Ash crossed his arms over his chest and nodded resolutely at his starter’s diabolical diatribe. “That’s right, you tell ‘im, Pikachu! Just let us in, already.”

Faint clanking interrupted us as April emerged from the back, hammer slung over her shoulder. She planted it in front of her as if ready to stand guard. “What’s taking you so long, Uki? Who are these people?”

“Said they’re here to meet Kurt on some sort of mission. You recognise any of ‘em?”

“Nope!” 

Jumping on the opportunity, I shrugged with faux helplessness, and returned to closing the door.

“That’s about enough of that, Uki. You’ve had your fun. Stop torturing the poor kids.” Kurt sauntered over, palmed April’s head to pull her out of the way, and prodded me on the pressure point just below my ribs to force me to let go of my death grip on the doorknob. “Need I remind you that two of my old buddies called? You put them out, and I’m gonna have to do the same with you to keep things fair, boyo.” 

He was making a grave mistake. I made one last attempt to show him the light. Leaning over at him, I raised my hand to hide my lips (but somehow forgot to lower my voice). “You sure you wanna be doing that, old man? These ones seem shifty. Especially the rodent and redhead.”

“This may be me getting off on the wrong foot, Mr Kurt. But do you mind if I shoved my boot up this guy’s butt?” The hotheaded water type specialist practically had steam pouring out of her ears. 

“It’s impolite to not take your shoes off at the door.” Was my reflexive rebuttal. 

“He’s got a point, Misty. You’re probably better off doing the normal thing and challenging him to a battle.” Ash artfully dodged a punch from her, then countered verbally. “Nevermind, I forgot normal isn’t your typing.”

“Alright, you miscreants, take it easy. Uki’s just teasing. Come on in, come on in!” Relenting regretfully, but not reluctantly, I widened the door fully and allowed our guests to step in (after they took their shoes off). “And don’t you tie your… er, suspenders in a twist, little lady. Boyo will make it up to you lot by rustling us some lunch. You kids must be hungry from the road.”

“Oh, we couldn’t impose. We ate plenty of jelly donuts on the road-” Brock’s polite protest rang hollow as his grumbling stomach bellowed mid-sentence.

Ash was far more honest. “Thanks, old man! I won’t say no to a free meal. I’m starving!” 

“Biga-cha!” 

As a means to earn my keep, I’d offered to become the resident chef of the household, which Kurt and April had accepted with little fuss. After my first day’s disastrous breakfast, any extra labour was worth avoiding a repeat. “You really expect to feed everyone at the drop of a hat?”

“And our Pokémon, too!” Misty, with an imperious nose stuck in the air, stomped past me.

“I want dumplings, Uki!” April flung her own demand, and followed in her wake.

“You heard ‘em, boyo. Order up!”

My spirits sank. I emptied of all positive emotion as the house filled up. Seven mouths to stuff full - and as several pops and flashes of Pokéballs opening sounded out - twice as many Pokémon. Alola, my Vaniluxe lifestyle. 

As I trudged towards the fridge, I reflected if this was how unwilling Pokémon felt when trainers yelled out, ‘I choose you!’

On the bright side, I knew just the recipe that would cheer me, and everyone else, up. Time to make some shuck mai.

Azalea, being what it was, had no shortage of bug type Pokémon. Shuckle, which frequently flavoured itself unintentionally with a variety of fruits and berries, was regarded as a local delicacy. Readily available, and fell very much in my favour for its secondary rock typing. 

Shops sold them in tendrils. As I set the oblong cuts of yellow meat down on the countertop, I might’ve been mistaken them as gourds or some variant of aubergine. Their bouncy flesh, however, reminded me of prawns and shellfish more than anything else. Which made it a perfect ingredient for shumai dumplings.

Grabbing a cleaver, I chopped, sliced, diced, swiped a second knife, and then minced it into a pasty consistency. 

I scooped it into a large bowl, then added the binders, flavours, and training supplements. 

The next most important addition was the charti berries I’d purchased from the nursery in Goldenrod before coming here. They tasted similar to artichokes; with a dry, spicy flavour and crunchy texture. More importantly, they were wonderful reservoirs of rock type energy that would go well with the Shuckle.

Aura appropriately added. It was time to mix in the stat growth modifiers. Attack was the name of the game, here. My daily task of sanding red apricorns meant we had plenty of that variety of that pulp to go around. Red apricorns were excellent sources of attack and special attack EVs - exemplified most famously by the aprijuice and Pokéblocks available for consumption at the Pokéathlon. Red apricorns were used to produce ‘power’ blends that aimed at improving a Pokémon’s attacking stats. 

Letting the stuffing marinate in those juices for a bit, I finished off the concoction by adding in the seasonings. Salt, pepper, sugar, soy, and Cloyster sauce. I topped the mixture off with cornstarch and, critically, a tablespoon of protein from the single precious bottle I’d purchased on the spree that had left me in the arms of poverty. It would give my Pokémon the biggest boost in attack outside of hours and hours of physical training.

Once everything was homogenised, I peeled off all the wrappers we had and began stuffing and shaping the dumplings.

Wonton by wonton, I scooped the filling, pinched the skins, and placed them out on top of the perforated parchment paper lined bamboo steamers. Double-wide and triple layered - each stack capable of holding approximately fifty individual shuck mai for a grand total of a hundred-and-fifty. The entire portion, I assumed, should be enough to feed everyone under the roof, or one juvenile Munchlax.

Filling a large boiler with water, I placed the steamer inside of it, and carried the whole thing over to the furnace instead of the stove. Hiru the Slugma was a better burner than any appliance. Placing it all on top of a metal grate, I lured the shy lava Pokémon out of its alcove with some of the leftover filling. Hiru eagerly savoured the rock aura infused food - looks like somebody aspired to evolve into a Magcargo someday. 

It’d take around fifteen minutes until the grub was done. However, a thick dollop of drool seeping through my shirt meant that not everyone was prepared to wait that long. “That smells super yummy, Uki. How much longer?” 

April was hanging off my shoulder, who herself had Ash dribbling on hers. “Go get the drinks ready. We should still have a case of liechi berry tea in the pantry.” Another quick kick of attack EVs. “And set the table while you’re at it.”

“Okie dokie!” They both ran off, which gave me a moment to jog up to my room and release my own three Pokémon, Baloo, Yecu, and Tuki. Who, upon smelling food, immediately raced and joined the circus downstairs. 

As soon as the timer went off, I took a dry towel, wrapped it around the bamboo steamer, and dropped the heavy container onto the table in a clatter of dishware.

“Dig in.” Table manners flew out the window as dumplings after dumplings were shovelled into each of their munching mouths. Raising a shuck mai to my own, my teeth tore through the soft skin into the springy meat. Delicious salty-spicy juices with a distinct earthy flavour exploded out. 

“Oh, man! This is great! You gotta spot me the recipe.” The rock type specialist instantly recognised the culinary benefit. I imagined it suited his palette better than onigiri shaped jelly donuts, at the very least.