You go deeper into the farm until you come to a stone cottage close to the training track.

A sticker on the door reads clearly

Contrary to the ominous warning, wind chimes cheerfully tinkle in the breeze.

You brave knocking on the door. Is anyone home?

You're about to turn away after some time when the door cracks. You see old eyes squinting at you from within, beneath a lockchain. "What the hell do you want?" he asks gruffly. "Can't you read?"

You offer your apologies for bothering him and are about to leave. He closes the door. There's a scrape against the back of it, then it opens again. This time, all the way.

Before you is North Oak's legendary trainer, Joe Hendricks. He's got a face like Popeye, and the demeanor of a disgruntled ogre. He's the type who doesn't seem to deem you worthy of the time of day, let alone to bask in his presence.

However, like a master craftsman who has worked leather until it folds, his supple hands have been smoothed by time. Patient and steady.

It takes years of hard work to earn his trust, let alone his esteem. But once you have it, it's for life. Maybe you should come back later?

"Stay away from my horses," he grunts when you don't say anything. His words turn to mutterings as he slowly closes the door. "I swear if I find any more rainbow fish crumbs on their teeth..."

The door shuts firmly. You're left with the wind chimes once again. Perhaps you should have offered him a beer.

There's no better look alike for Joe than Hall of Fame trainer, Cot Campbell.

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