"Are you absolutely certain… that your healing bloodline truly can't be inherited?" Amelie asked again, unwilling to give up.
"It really can't." Ash shrugged helplessly, spreading his hands.
"…I see."
For the first time, Amelie felt genuine disappointment settle in her chest.
She composed herself quickly.
"Alright. Next, we'll test moderate and severe external injuries."
Unlike Pokémon that had been captured and lived in the complex, bacteria-filled human environment—where they were more prone to illness—wild Pokémon mostly suffered from physical injuries and the infections or inflammations that followed.
Since establishing the Stone Bridge and Dashiwan Valley free clinics, Ash had treated no fewer than a hundred patients a day—most of them external wounds.
He had ample experience.
Mild injuries and moderate injuries were healed almost instantly under Healing Grace.
Even severe injuries—though requiring slightly more time—were fully restored under the LV.37 Viridian power flowing through him.
Clarissa's eyes widened in amazement as she observed. Even Amelie, who maintained the records, couldn't hide her astonishment.
Once the external injury tests were completed, Amelie proceeded to test the removal of abnormal status conditions.
Poison, Toxic poisoning, Sleep, Paralysis, Burn, Freeze, Flinch, Confusion, Infatuation.
Though Flinch, Confusion, and Infatuation were temporary mental states, Amelie insisted they be included in the evaluation.
Under Ash's Healing Grace—
Toxins were expelled.
Sleep was dispelled.
Paralysis vanished.
Burns faded without scars.
Ice melted harmlessly.
Fearful Pokémon were calmed.
Confusion cleared.
Infatuation was gently broken.
It wasn't just physical conditions.
Even emotional instability—terror, panic—was soothed under the green glow of Viridian power.
Amelie stared in disbelief.
This… was beyond conventional medicine.
If such a bloodline could have been inherited—
The Joy family's Kanto branch would have risen above all other regional branches across the world.
They would have become the most revered medical authority in existence.
The thought filled her with awe—and regret.
-----
Next came disease treatment.
Pokémon with various ailments were brought in.
Mild illnesses:
Colds and fever… muscle strain from overtraining… bleeding gums in Rattata… fungal infection in Sandslash's claws… Pikachu's "electric cold."
Severe diseases:
Malignant tumors… acute myocardial infarction… encephalitis… hepatitis… organ failure with metabolic collapse… arterial hypertension… advanced motor neuron disease… traumatic brain injury…
Before coming to the Pokémon Center, Ash had done his homework.
He knew which illnesses the Pokémon Center could treat.
Which were extremely difficult.
Which even the Joy family struggled with.
And which were considered death sentences.
Having lived two lives, Ash was no longer reckless. He preferred to plan carefully before acting.
Healing Pokémon, teaching moves, opening miniature storage spaces—
These abilities were unheard of, both among ordinary people and even within psychic associations.
Though he had safeguards in place, the strongest insurance was always his own power.
Until he possessed overwhelming strength, he would never reveal everything.
The Joy family might be neutral and friendly toward him—
But discretion was necessary.
So during disease testing, Ash acted strategically.
For mild conditions curable by modern medicine, he healed them openly.
For more serious illnesses that both modern medicine and Healing Grace could treat, he deliberately adjusted his performance—sometimes showing mild strain, sometimes greater effort, depending on the complexity.
For diseases even the Joy family struggled with—
He pretended to fail.
Even when he knew he could cure them.
As for terminal illnesses—
He didn't hesitate.
"I'm sorry. I can't treat this."
In truth, he had already discovered something astonishing:
Healing Grace could treat even diseases classified as terminal.
It wasn't as instantaneous as curing a mild wound—
But it worked.
The realization had shaken him.
And precisely because he understood what that meant—
He would never reveal it.
There were powerful figures in this world who would do anything to prolong their lives.
No matter how many layers of protection he had, they would not deter the truly desperate.
Even if one day his strength reached a level where he could defend himself—
He still would not disclose that he could cure terminal illnesses.
First—he was not a doctor. Saving the world was not his obligation.
Second—he refused to be morally blackmailed by self-righteous crusaders.
If morality were measured on a scale from 1 to 100—
Below 50 meant evil. Above 50 meant good.
Ash considered himself perhaps a 51… maybe a 55.
Not wicked.
But certainly not saintly.
His gentleness was reserved for family, friends, pure-hearted people, and wild Pokémon.
For strangers, even if he smiled, his heart remained cool and detached.
And for those who were truly malicious—
Or who sought to harm him or the people he cared about—
He would show no mercy.
The warmth he gave to those he loved—
Would become cold steel toward those who threatened them.
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