Training was over.
In the break room.
Having just turned sixteen not long ago, Ayato was drenched in sweat as he peeled off the clothes clinging to his body, revealing a lean, well-trained physique.
When a colleague walked in, Ayato gave him a casual wave, grabbed his toiletries, and stepped into the shower.
As the water streamed down his face—splattering outward, flowing downward—he couldn't help but drift into thought, into memories.
This was Pyrite Town.
A place steeped in steampunk aesthetics, where pipes of varying widths intertwined across the cityscape, gears spun in endless loops, and rust-streaked metal cores lay exposed for all to see.
It was called a "town," but in truth, its population rivaled that of a full-blown city.
The endless veins of ore beneath the ground were its main economic lifeline.
And like most inland towns in the Orre Region, it was surrounded by a vast wilderness—barren plains and deserts stretched endlessly in every direction, with nothing but yellows, grays, and blacks painting the horizon. Rarely did any signs of vibrant green life appear.
Despite its relatively advanced technology, it was far from a beautiful place.
Ayato often found himself lamenting the fact that, as a transmigrator, he hadn't been lucky enough to end up in one of the main regions.
Instead, he was stuck in Orre.
Forget about the quality of life—someone like him, with no parents, no money, no power, no connections—just a total nobody, trying to obtain a Pokémon and become a Trainer was nearly impossible. The level of competition was terrifying.
Travel the world? Enter tournaments?
That dream was far, far out of reach.
But most importantly—there were no wild Pokémon to catch in the Orre Region.
As a remote corner of the world, nearly all Trainers here relied on imported Pokémon. Wild ones were few and far between.
This simple fact meant Ayato had never been able to obtain a Pokémon of his own. And without a Pokémon, it was next to impossible to change one's fate.
Still, there was a saying: you'll have your bread, and your Pokémon will come too.
Recently, he'd been auto-enrolled into a second-rate organization—Quicksand Team—and they were currently selecting full-fledged members. Grunts like him only needed to pass the trial to receive a Pokémon from one of the executives.
He wasn't exactly thrilled, but he didn't have a say in the matter. Once you were in, getting out wasn't easy.
Come to think of it, Team Rocket, which routinely eliminated underperforming members, was downright humane by comparison. In Pyrite Town, everyone was assigned a job. Refuse to work, and you'd be sent to the Underground City to mine—maybe for the rest of your life if luck wasn't on your side.
Escape?
The nearest town was over a hundred kilometers away, and the journey in between was a sea of desert. Even finding an oasis with water was a rare blessing. People lost their sense of direction easily. And let's not forget—there was no outrunning a hover-bike.
The station leading out of town? Swarming with pickpockets, thugs, and con artists. Almost all of them were spies for the major factions. Anyone branded as a deserter would be pulled off the train the moment they stepped on board.
In Pyrite Town, people were the most precious resource.
Even if he somehow made it to another region, Ayato's status as an unregistered citizen would be a problem. He'd be caught and deported in no time.
Not to mention, he was practically illiterate—barely able to recognize a few basic words. The town didn't have a library, nor did it offer any free education for low-level grunts like him.
His only advantage now was his young, healthy body. Quicksand Team was in urgent need of new blood, and the match made perfect sense.
As for the road ahead? He figured he'd wait until he got a Pokémon—then take it from there.
Also… there was that thing.
Ayato glanced at the countdown in the lower-right corner of his vision. It had started ticking ever since he woke up a week ago and began integrating his memories—and now it was almost finished.
Given what he knew about transmigrators, this had to be some sort of benefit that came standard.
He couldn't help but feel a glimmer of anticipation.
After his shower—
Ayato fought the urge to return to his shack and watch the countdown run out. Instead, he joined a few familiar colleagues for dinner and downed some beer.
As their drunken complaints buzzed in his ears, he felt oddly calm inside.
Blending in was essential. Without the power to protect himself, standing out would only lead to hostility and exclusion. So no matter how unwilling he was, he had to show face and drink with the crew.
Most grunts in Quicksand Team lived day to day. Pay came by the week, sometimes by the day, never by the month.
But in a town like this—almost completely under the thumb of various shadowy factions—their lives weren't all that bad. At least they weren't like the day laborers at the very bottom, and they had steady wages.
Factor in the occasional "side hustle," and it was possible to save enough in a few months to barely afford a Pokémon.
But raising a Pokémon wasn't something you could do on a whim. Pokémon food, nutritional supplements—everything cost a fortune. And that's not even counting massage therapy, post-battle treatment…
Getting a Pokémon was just the beginning of the spending.
Which was why most grunts could only look enviously at others' Pokémon, then spend their own hard-earned cash on cheap thrills and empty pleasures.
Ayato, on the other hand, had a knack for saving. Yet more often than not, he instinctively rejected some of the "extra income" opportunities. He refused to spend the money earned through less savory means and would quietly stash it away elsewhere—leading to a less-than-ideal bank balance.
And really, his "wages" weren't that clean either.
He just told himself it was a line he had to draw. Even if it was laughable, even if it was just fifty steps away from a hundred, it was still better than taking that hundredth step.
How long could he hold onto that naive idealism?
He was curious himself.
…
Blue Iridium Street.
One of the districts under Quicksand Team's control, this was where they provided housing for their grunts.
From the outside, the place looked like a junkyard.
Dilapidated two-story buildings riddled with holes, grime everywhere, graffiti with no discernible meaning, a stench too foul to describe, and jagged, rusted metal sheets poking out from every angle…
No sane person would want to live here.
But one thing could be said—it was safe.
Though Quicksand Team was only a second-rate force in Pyrite Town, few dared to mess with them. That was thanks to their powerful leader and solid backing.
Back home, Ayato quickly shut the door behind him, leaving the foul stench outside. He collapsed onto the bed and waited for the countdown to end.
What kind of cheat would it be?
He felt hopeful—yet also slightly uneasy. What if it wasn't a golden finger but a countdown to death or disaster?
To be blessed with arrival in the Pokémon world… yet cursed with a terrible start.
The conflicting emotions made him both anxious and hesitant.
And just as his thoughts started to spiral, the countdown hit zero.
A line of glowing text suddenly appeared in his vision, flashing repeatedly.
[Trainer Life Simulator activated. Remaining uses: —. Next recharge countdown: 168:00:00]
Simulator?
Ayato blinked in surprise, just as another prompt popped up.
[Begin simulation? Yes / No]
He took a deep breath, relieved to see that it was all in Chinese. He slowly selected "Yes," and immediately three new lines of text appeared.
[Choose your birth region ▽]
[Choose your gender ▽]
[Choose your Pokémon ▽]
Ayato clicked on the first option. A list of the main regions from the core series appeared, but the side story regions were nowhere to be found.
He picked Kanto.
Gender only had two choices: male and female.
He chose male.
As for the Pokémon selection… things got strange. There was only one option: "Random." No iconic Kanto starters. No Pikachu, who roamed the streets like strays. No common Pokémon like Eevee.
With no alternatives, Ayato quietly selected "Random," then confirmed all three choices.
[Please draw your Talents]
He clicked.
Fixed Talent:
[Novice (Slower progress in raising Pokémon)]
Selectable Talents:
[Clumsy (Poor Pokémon health management)]
[Poor Family Background (Raising Pokémon is burdensome)]
[Hot-blooded Youth (Always maintains a positive mindset)]
[Endless Romance (May engage in relationships with others)]
Ayato studied them carefully. The fixed talent couldn't be changed, while he could pick two from the selectable list.
But those first two...
Only an idiot would choose them, right? Or was this some kind of trap?
Forget it.
He had two chances anyway.
Ayato knew real-world testing beat blind guessing. He lit up the last two talents and confirmed his selection.
In an instant—
A translucent screen flickered before his eyes, displaying strange pixel-style animations, with lines of text jumping out beneath them, explaining things.
It looked just like a game trailer.