Chapter 1: The Orei Region

Training ended.

Rest room.

Baimu, who had recently turned sixteen, peeled the clothes stuck to his body, drenched in sweat, revealing a lean, sturdy physique.

A colleague came in from outside; he raised a hand in greeting, grabbed his toiletries, and headed into the bathroom.

As the water splashed against his face, scattered in all directions, or streamed straight down, he couldn't help but begin to think, to recall.

This place is Huang Tie Town.

A place steeped in a steampunk aesthetic, where metal pipes of varying thicknesses, mechanical contraptions of all kinds of gears in motion, and a rusted, dark, exposed inner core were all on display.

Though called a town, its population was in fact no smaller than that of the cities in the same region.

The ceaseless mineral deposits beneath the ground were also the main economic source here.

And it, situated in the interior of the Orei region, was like most towns — the outskirts were endless wasteland and desert; a single glance took in nothing but yellow, grey, and black, with living green rarely to be seen.

The technology was fairly advanced, yet it was not a beautiful place.

Therefore Baimu often lamented that, as a transmigrator, why had he not been reborn in one of the main-series regions.

A place like Orei.

Putting aside the quality of life, someone like him — no parents, no money, no power, no backing, a "three-nothing" nobody — obtaining a Pokémon and becoming a Trainer was unimaginably difficult; the competition was terrifyingly fierce.

Travel? Enter a league conference?

Far beyond his reach.

Of course, the biggest reason was that wild Pokémon couldn't be caught in the Orei region.

As a corner of the world and a distant land, most Trainers' Pokémon relied on outside imports; wild individuals were pitifully few.

This direct cause meant Baimu still hadn't obtained a Pokémon of his own to this day, and without a Pokémon, it was very hard to change his fate.

Still, bread would come eventually, and so would a Pokémon.

The second-rate faction that had automatically enrolled him upon waking — Team Quicksand — was selecting official members. Outer members — that is, grunts — only had to pass an assessment to receive a Pokémon from an officer.

Though he wasn't exactly thrilled, he had no say in the matter; once in, getting out again would be hard.

Thinking it over, Team Rocket — which regularly struck bad members from its rolls — seemed practically humane by comparison. In Huang Tie Town, everyone was assigned work; the bottom-layer poor who didn't want to work were simply driven into the underground mines to dig, and with bad luck they might dig for a lifetime.

Run?

The next nearest town was at least a hundred kilometers away, with nothing but desert in between; finding an oasis with water was hard, and people easily lost their sense of direction. Not to mention no one on foot could outrun a high-tech hover-bike.

The station leading outside was even worse — pickpockets, thugs, swindlers beyond counting, mostly all covert operatives of the major factions; anyone bearing a brand would be caught and hauled off the moment they boarded.

Population was Huang Tie Town's most important resource.

Furthermore, even if he made it to another region, his unregistered status was a problem; if caught, he'd easily be sent back.

Not to mention he was illiterate, able to recognize only the most basic vocabulary. The town had neither a library nor any free educational environment for grunts like him.

His only advantage right now was this young body of his. Team Quicksand was also in urgent need of fresh blood to replenish its ranks — the two fit together perfectly.

As for the road ahead, he decided to get a Pokémon first and see from there.

Also… there was this thing.

Baimu glanced at the countdown numbers in the lower-right corner of his vision — ever since he had woken a week ago and merged with the memories, it had been ticking down, and was about to finish.

Based on what he knew of transmigrators, this was probably a perk most of them had.

He couldn't help but look forward to it.

After finishing his bath.

Baimu, forcibly restraining the urge to hurry back to his little den and wait for the countdown to hit zero, gathered with a few familiar colleagues for a meal and downed some beer.

Listening to their drunken complaints, his heart was remarkably calm.

Fitting in was important — until he had the power to protect himself, sticking out would only make him resented and ostracized, so no matter how unwilling he was, he had to come out and drink with these people.

Among Team Quicksand, most grunts just muddled through, taking each day as it came; their pay was always spent within the week, within the day — it never even reached the moonlight.

But in this town, secretly almost completely controlled by all sorts of organizations, they were doing all right — at least much easier than bottom-tier odd-job laborers, and they had a fixed salary.

If one also counted the "side income" picked up by shaking down the locals, saving up for a few months to barely scrape together enough to buy a Pokémon was no problem.

But raising a Pokémon — how could it be as simple as just deciding on the spot? All sorts of necessities — Pokémon food, nutritional tablets, and so on — were shockingly expensive, not to mention Pokémon massages, post-battle healing…

Getting a Pokémon was only the beginning of spending money.

Therefore, most grunts who just muddled through could only watch others' Pokémon with envy, then take the money in their pockets and drown themselves in drink and dreams.

As for Baimu — he had the instinct to save, yet often instinctively resisted certain "side income," refusing to spend money obtained through shaking down locals, secretly returning it by other means, so that his actual savings were far from ideal.

Even though his "wages" weren't exactly clean either.

Call it self-deception if you will.

He wanted to hold onto something inside himself; seeing the bitter faces and wretched states of those who'd been fleeced, it was hard to spend it with a clear conscience.

How much longer before he was fully assimilated?

He was curious himself.

……

Cobalt-Iridium Street.

As one of the districts controlled by Team Quicksand, this was where they housed their outer grunts.

From the outside, it was indistinguishable from a pile of discarded junk.

A pockmarked two-story bungalow, filth everywhere, graffiti of unclear meaning, an indescribable stench, and all manner of rusty sheet metal with razor-sharp edges…

No normal person would ever want to live here.

But there was one thing — the security was excellent.

Although Team Quicksand was only a second-rate force in Huang Tie Town, very few dared come looking for trouble with them; the fundamental reason was that they had a powerful leader and solid backing.

Back home, Baimu quickly shut the door, leaving the strange smell outside, lay down on the bed, and waited for the countdown to end.

What would the cheat be?

He felt a little anticipation, but also a vague worry—what if this wasn't a cheat, but some kind of countdown to death or disaster.

Fortunately, he had arrived in the Pokémon world; unfortunately, he hadn't gotten a good start.

The tangled feelings left him anxious about gains and losses.

And just as he was letting his thoughts run wild, the countdown ended.

A line of text appeared out of thin air in his field of vision, flickering nonstop.

【Trainer Life Simulator activated, remaining uses: 2, next recharge countdown: 168:00:00】

A simulator?

Baimu froze for a moment, then saw a new line of text pop up.

【Begin simulation? Yes/No】

He took a deep breath, somewhat relieved the thing was in Chinese. He slowly tapped Yes, and three more lines flew out before his eyes.

【Choose your birth region ▽】

【Choose your gender ▽】

【Choose your Pokémon ▽】

Baimu tapped open the first line, and a host of main-series regions immediately appeared before his eyes, but no spin-off regions were to be seen.

He chose Kanto.

For gender there were only two options as well, male and female.

He chose male.

And the available Pokémon side was a little strange—there was only one option: random. The Kanto classic starters, the Pikachu that littered the roads like stray dogs, the ordinary Pokémon Eevee—none of them were there.

Since there was no choice, Baimu silently tapped Random and confirmed his three selections.

【Please draw your Talents】

Press.

Fixed Talent:

【Greenhorn (Pokémon training progress is slow)】

Selectable Talents:

【Clumsy (Pokémon health management is rough)】

【Poor Family Background (Pokémon training is a burden)】

【Hot-Blooded Youth (mindset is always positive and upbeat)】

【Endless Romance (may become involved with the opposite sex)】

Baimu looked carefully. The fixed talent couldn't be swapped, and from the selectable talents he could pick two.

But these four…

No matter how he thought about it, only the last two were worth choosing, right? Only an idiot would pick the first two.

Or was there a trap hidden in here?

Forget it.

He had two chances anyway.

Baimu knew practice was more effective than blind guessing. He lit up the last two talents and confirmed his selection.

In an instant.

An illusory screen appeared before his eyes, playing a strange pixel animation inside, with text popping up below to provide explanation.

Just like a game promotional video.