Despite his new rule, Zane didn't force Cramorant to stay cooped up in its Poké Ball.
Instead, he adjusted his own schedule. On days when he didn't have classes, he'd go out with the bird. He would do his morning run along the riverbank while Cramorant hunted for fish in the nearby ponds.
"Phew..."
After a thirty-minute run, Zane stopped to rest, drenched in sweat. He watched the last rays of the setting sun paint the distant horizon and began to seriously plan his future.
Being a teacher for the rest of his life wasn't the goal. More than anything, he wanted to become a trainer like Ash, traveling the world and going on adventures. But for a trainer without family support or a Pokédex, that path was incredibly difficult. As a transmigrator, Zane checked neither of those boxes. In this world, he was a ghost with no background and no prior identity; the League would never entrust someone like him with a Pokédex.
"A trainer, huh..." Zane looked at Cramorant, took a deep breath, and made up his mind. If he had to, he'd just save up money for a few years before setting out.
You have to forge your own path, right?
Besides, from what he'd learned, this world had plenty of smaller, non-League tournaments in addition to the major Conference. To attract participants, these competitions often offered substantial cash prizes. He could theoretically battle his way from town to town, funding his journey all the way to the Hoenn League.
Or, he could take a different route.
Path number two: Pokémon Breeder. He could get certified by the League and become a professional. Trainers would pay him a hefty fee to create custom raising plans for their Pokémon.
And, of course, there was a third option: Contests. He could become a Coordinator, rise through the ranks like a celebrity, and once he was famous enough, endorsement deals would start rolling in.
For the average person, the Breeder path was by far the most difficult. The profession had incredibly demanding requirements. You didn't just need to be an expert on all kinds of Pokémon; you also had to master highly specialized fields like pharmacology and botany. Only someone with a serious brain could pull that off.
Zane lay on the grass, lazily watching the clouds drift by, dyed orange and pink by the sunset. Before he could decide which path to take, he needed one crucial thing: a Pokémon that could actually battle.
The League didn't have any hard rules against catching Pokémon before the age of ten. But you could only officially register as a trainer and get your license to travel at ten. It reminded him of having to be eighteen to get into an internet café back in his old life. As for the whole tradition of getting a starter from the Professor, Zane figured it was more of a rite of passage—a ceremony to kick off a brand new journey.
His first month of work flew by. The moment his paycheck hit, Zane began scouting for his first official Pokémon.
Magikarp, Feebas, and the various low-maintenance, fast-growing Pokémon in Petalburg Woods all made his shortlist. Every day after class, he would take Cramorant and wander through the forest.
Besides Cramorant's Master Ball, he now had the two standard red-and-white Poké Balls he'd lifted from the hunters. A single Poké Ball costs 200 Pokédollars at the Poké Mart. The first time he'd found that out, he'd wanted to slap himself on the leg and shout about his own brilliant foresight. That one simple act of theft had saved him 400 bucks.
Thank you, Pokémon Hunters!
Petalburg Woods was teeming with a wide variety of wild Pokémon, but the most common were by far Caterpie and Wurmple. Zane had no intention of catching either. While their evolutions, Butterfree and Beautifly, were cute, he couldn't bring himself to touch them in their larval stages.
He had a severe phobia of soft-bodied, boneless creatures.
Especially a foot-long green worm like Caterpie. The psychological scar left by the one that had crawled across his chest when he first arrived was still deeply embedded in his mind. Now, whenever he saw a Caterpie, he couldn't help but imagine the soft, squishy feeling of touching it. He'd even imagine what would happen if he squeezed too hard, if it would just... pop...
Yuck!
Zane shivered and quickly looked away from the Caterpie on a branch above him.
Besides the bugs, the other common Pokémon were Seedot, Taillow, Shroomish, and Nincada. Near the river, you could spot Surskit and Azurill, but they were incredibly skittish. The moment he got close, they'd dive into the water and disappear.
Awkward.
Zane stood foolishly at the river's edge with Cramorant. Since his bird couldn't be commanded in battle, the traditional method of weakening a wild Pokémon before catching it was impossible for him. That left only one option: catch something that couldn't fight back.
Which brought him back to Magikarp and Feebas.
He knew both had incredible potential, but they were completely useless in a fight before they evolved. And Feebas's evolution was a whole other problem. In the games, you just had to raise its Beauty stat to 170 or trade it while it was holding a Prism Scale. But this was reality. The game's rules didn't apply.
From what Zane had learned, nobody in this world actually knew how to evolve a Feebas. Wild Milotic were so rare they were practically myths; there were only a handful of recorded sightings in history. While he had his editor, he was hesitant to use any function other than 'Identify.' He was terrified of creating a second Cramorant.
So, that left him with only...
Just then, a soft cry came from behind him.
"Raaalts!"
Zane turned. Standing there was the same Ralts he'd met before. It looked happy to see him, its jewel-like eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Zane glanced around. No sign of its dad.
He crouched down to its level. "Did you sneak out again?" he asked in a friendly voice.
"Ralu..." Ralts understood, sticking its tongue out shyly.
It can communicate!
Just then, Ralts looked at the Poké Ball in Zane's hand.
"Raaalts~" it cooed, pointing.
Zane froze. He'd considered the possibility, but to have it actually happen was unbelievable. "You... you want to come with me?" he asked.
"Ralts!" Ralts nodded its little head vigorously.
Zane was torn. A Pokémon literally handing itself to him was a dream come true! But this one came with some serious baggage. Its dad had already tracked it down once. If he caught it now, he fully expected to wake up in the middle of the night to find a furious Gardevoir standing over his bed.
Seeing Zane's hesitation, Ralts's face fell, its disappointment obvious. "Ral..."
Zane sighed. "..."
"Are you asking this because I saved you before?" he asked.
Ralts nodded again. "Ralts!"
Zane felt he had to set the record straight. "I didn't save you," he said, trying to be clear. "My Pokémon did. I couldn't have beaten those two bad guys. I never planned to try and save you." He wasn't some hot-blooded anime hero, after all. To him, Ralts had just been a stranger.
Ralts didn't seem to understand his words. It hesitated for a moment, then reached out with its small white hand and gently touched the spot over Zane's heart.
"Ral..."
Zane stared, looking down at his chest.
He remembered the Pokédex entry. Ralts were shy Pokémon that would hide at the first sign of hostility. But when they sensed positive, optimistic emotions from a person, they would approach on their own, and their own bodies would grow warm.
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