Misty was on the verge of popping a blood vessel. How could someone this bizarre exist in the real world?
"Hey, thief! You stole my bike today!" she barked, her voice echoing.
"You've got the wrong guy," Red replied, giving her nothing more than a cold, sideways glance. He brushed her hand off his shoulder and kept walking without missing a beat.
In his mind, she was just another girl looking for a "payout." He remembered plenty of Trainers back home who would throw a Rattata at his Charizard; before he could even command a move, the rat would headbutt Charizard's belly, knock itself out, and the Trainer would start wailing for medical compensation.
Wait... she looks a lot like the second Gym Leader from back home, Red thought. Just a few years younger. But Red suffered from a severe case of "face-blindness"—unless a person was wearing a swimsuit, he honestly couldn't tell who was who.
Besides, he had forgotten that in this world, he looked like a fresh-faced rookie. No one was going to try to scam a kid.
"You...!" Misty was speechless, rooted to the spot and trembling as she pointed at his back. It wasn't until he had drifted into the distance that she snapped out of it and gave chase.
I'm calling the cops! That's it! This is lawlessness! Officer Jenny is right around the corner, anyway!
Late at night, the Pokémon Center lobby was nearly empty. As Red stepped inside, the first thing he saw was a charred, blackened heap of metal near the entrance.
"Who left a piece of 'salted fish' here?" Red shook his head and stepped over the wreckage. His eyes were locked on the PC terminal nearby.
"Please work," he muttered. His voice was calm, but his hands were shaking with a mix of desperation and hope.
Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he opened the storage system.
Ash's PC. Red's PC.
The moment he saw the second option, Red felt his soul leave his body. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this wired. Maybe it was at the Indigo Plateau, right after he'd absolutely thrashed his rival Blue—who had managed to be Champion for all of three minutes.
He clicked the icon. When he saw his old partners lined up in the digital slots, Red nearly let out a victory screech.
"..." But in his usual "anti-social" fashion, he just stared at the screen, his eyes blurring with tears. He knew he was technically just a game character, but these Pokémon were his family. That bond was the only thing that felt real.
If he had been sucked into this weird world while his partners remained trapped in the old one, he would've traded this "reincarnation" just to go back to them.
Click. Without hesitation, Red attempted to withdraw one to his current roster.
Zap-zap! The transfer machine hummed with static, and a Pokéball materialized in Red's hand. Feeling that familiar weight, his hand trembled as he tossed it.
"Come on out..."
In a flash of light, a Pokémon identical to the Pikachu on his shoulder appeared. However, this one had deeper fur, a noticeably rounder face—the classic "vintage" build—and an aura so heavy it practically vibrated. One look was enough to know: this was a "Veteran."
A seasoned old-timer electric mouse.
Red's Pikachu opened its eyes, curiously scanning the room as it acclimated to the new environment.
"Pika?" Ash's Pikachu hopped down to face the "Senior." In perfect synchronization, the two mice turned their backs to each other and tapped tails.
In that one simple greeting, Ash's Pikachu realized it was standing in the presence of a legend.
"Huh?" Misty arrived late, rubbing her eyes in disbelief. Why were there two of them? Was it a high-level Double Team?
Regardless, a cool trick wasn't an excuse for bike theft! She marched forward, ready to deliver some "justice."
CRASH! Suddenly, the ceiling shattered. Three figures plummeted through the roof, landing in a perfectly choreographed pose.
A woman with long, gravity-defying red hair. A man with a blue bob. Both wore uniforms emblazoned with a bold "R"—they looked like elite employees of some shady multinational corp. They were flanked by a Meowth that stood on two legs with a deviously human expression.
"Who are you guys?!" Misty blurted out.
The question acted like a trigger. The trio launched into a rapid-fire, synchronized routine:
"Prepare for trouble!" "And make it double!" "To protect the world from devastation!" "To unite all peoples within our nation!" "To denounce the evils of truth and love!" "To extend our reach to the stars above!" "Jessie!" "James!" "Team Rocket blasts off at the speed of light!" "Surrender now, or prepare to fight!" "Meowth! That's right!"
For a long moment, the entire Pokémon Center was frozen in the wake of that painfully cringey performance.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
In the silence, Red began to applaud, shattering the awkward atmosphere. Is this how people act in this world? he wondered. Do you have to perform a Broadway number every time you meet someone?
Maybe I should design a catchphrase too, Red thought. Otherwise, someone might figure out I'm an outsider who doesn't know the local customs.
"Kid, you've got good taste!" "How about it? Why don't you join Team Rocket?"
Jessie and James immediately took a liking to the boy.
Team Rocket? Red did the math. In his world, Team Rocket was the evil organization he had dismantled single-handedly with a single electric mouse. Even their boss, Giovanni, had been his personal punching bag. He hadn't expected them to exist here, too. Had their business expanded across dimensions?
"It's you! The Pokémon thieves!" Misty shouted, her sense of justice flaring. Seeing the wanted poster by the door, she added sarcastically, "You guys are even more annoying than that bike thief! Right, Mr. Pikachu-Trainer?"
Red: "???" If your bike is gone, go find Officer Jenny. Why are you still trying to pin this on me? Is my cover already blown?
Before Red could speak, Team Rocket cut him off. Jessie turned her nose up and scoffed, "Listen here, brat. Don't go comparing the glorious Team Rocket to some low-rent bike thief."
James flexed his chest, smirking. "Tsk tsk. This little redhead hasn't even hit puberty yet and she's already insulting us."
Meowth unsheathed its claws with a Taunt-like sneer. "Don't underestimate us, kid!"
"You... you...!" Misty's face turned beet red. She was clearly outmatched in a war of words. And what was with James? Was he some kind of weirdo, constantly stroking his own chest?
"Move it, move it. Don't get in the way of professionals. There must be tons of Pokéballs stored here. Let's bag 'em all for the cause!"
As the trio began eyeing the storage units, Misty shoved Red forward.
"Hey, Trainer! Do something! Beat them up!"
Red: "?" He was just a bystander in a borrowed body. He'd rather just watch the show.
"Oh? Does the kid with the good taste want to play hero?" "We like you, kid, but if you get in our way, don't expect us to play nice." "Against two generic electric mice? Meowth is gonna die laughing! What's a couple of rats gonna do?"
"!"
Red had planned to stay out of it, but talking trash about Pikachu was the one line you didn't cross. His brow furrowed, and a flicker of genuine heat rose in his chest.
Red was the ultimate Pikachu fanboy.
Fine then. Let's see how they handle a real battle.