Training ended.
Break room.
Baimu, who had just turned sixteen not long ago, was drenched in sweat as he removed the clothes sticking to him, revealing a well-built physique.
A colleague ca in from outside, and he waved a greeting, picking up his toiletries as he headed into the bathroom.
As water splashed onto his face or spilled everywhere or ran down smoothly, he couldn’t help but start thinking, reminiscing.
This is Pyrite Town.
A place brimming with steampunk style, where tal pipes of various sizes and chanical constructs with rotating gears and rusty dim interiors are exposed outside.
Though called a town, its population is no smaller than the cities in the sa region.
The endlessly abundant underground mines are also the main source of its economy.
Located inland in the Ore Region, like most towns, its outskirts are endless wastelands and deserts, with only yellows, grays, and blacks left in sight, and very little lively cyan green.
Though the technology is quite advanced, it’s not a beautiful place.
Therefore, Baimu often regretted being a Transmigrator, wondering why he couldn’t have been reborn in the Main Series Regions.
A place like Ore.
Never mind the quality of life, as soone with no parents, no money, no power, and no montum, acquiring a Pokémon and becoming a Trainer is extrely difficult, with terrifyingly fierce competition.
Travel? Compete in tournants?
It was too far away from him.
Of course, the main reason is that in the Ore Region, there are hardly any Wild Pokémon to catch.
In this corner of the world and remote land, most Trainers’ Pokémon rely on imports, with very few wild individuals.
This direct reason has prevented Baimu from obtaining his own Pokémon until now, and without Pokémon, it’s hard to change his fate.
However, bread will always co, and Pokémon too will eventually be his.
A second-rate force automatically joined after waking up — the Quicksand Team is selecting official mbers. Once the peripheral mbers — or rather, lackeys — pass the test, they can receive a Pokémon from a leader.
Even though he’s not thrilled, he doesn’t have the authority to decide on this matter, and once in, it’s hard to back out.
Thinking like this, the Rocket Team, which often removes bad mbers, seems utterly humane. In Pyrite Town, everyone is assigned a job, and those unwilling to work are sent to the Underground City to mine, and with bad luck, might mine their whole lives.
Escape?
The nearest town is at least hundreds of kiloters away, all across desert, where even finding an oasis with water is difficult, and it’s easy to lose one’s sense of direction. Not to ntion, escaping is slower than the high-tech hoverbikes.
The station leading outside is even more dangerous, full of pickpockets, hooligans, and scamrs, most of whom are undercover agents of major forces, and those marked are imdiately caught when they board the train.
The population is Pyrite Town’s most important resource.
Furthermore, even if he makes it to another region, his status as a black household is a problem, making capture and deportation easy.
Not to ntion, he’s illiterate, only able to understand so very basic vocabulary. The town has no library, nor a free educational environnt for lackeys like him to attend school.
His only advantage now is his youthful physique. The Quicksand Team urgently needs new blood, and the two sides have struck an accord.
As for the path ahead, he decides to get a Pokémon first before deciding further.
And this thing... on the side.
Baimu glanced at the countdown number in the lower right corner of his vision, which had started counting down since the day he woke up and fused his mories a week ago, and was almost finished.
From his understanding of Transmigrators, this is probably a benefit most have.
His heart couldn’t help but be filled with anticipation.
After showering.
Baimu resisted the urge to return to his little nest and wait for the countdown to clear, having a al and so beer with a few familiar colleagues.
Listening to their lantations in their drunken stupor, he felt quite calm inside.
Blending in is very important; without the power to protect himself yet, being independent would only lead to being ostracized and shunned, so even if he’s unwilling, he has to co out and drink with this group.
In the Quicksand Team, the majority of lackeys live day by day, with paychecks spent daily or weekly, not ever reaching a month ahead.
But in this town almost entirely controlled by various organizations behind the scenes, they are living fairly well, at least more relaxed than the bottom-level workers and with fixed wages.
If you consider the "extra" inco from other sources, saving up to grudgingly buy a Pokémon in a few months isn’t a problem.
But nurturing a Pokémon isn’t as simple as a slap on the head; essential items like Pokémon food and nutritional tablets are astonishingly expensive, not to ntion Pokémon massages and post-battle treatnts...
Owning a Pokémon is just the beginning of spending.
Thus, most laid-back lackeys can only envy others’ Pokémon and waste their money in hopeless hedonism.
But Baimu, with an instinct to save money, often instinctively rejected so "extra" inco, refusing to spend money obtained through dubious ans and secretly returning it, leading to an unimpressive actual savings amount.
Even when the "wage" isn’t very clean itself.
It’s just self-deception, perhaps.
He wants to hold onto so principles internally, finding it hard to spend without guilt when seeing those facing extortion’s bitter faces and disgraced postures.
How long until he is fully assimilated?
He’s curious himself too.
...
Cyan Iridium Street.
As one of the districts under the Quicksand Team’s control, it is ho to the housing they offer peripheral lackeys.
Outwardly, it looks no different from heaps of trash.
Pockmarked two-story buildings, visible dirt everywhere, graffiti devoid of aning, indescribable stench, and sharp-edged, rusty iron sheets...
No sane person would wish to live here.
But one thing is for sure, the security is excellent.
Even though Quicksand Team is just a second-rate force in Pyrite Town, few dare ss with them, primarily because they have strong leaders and a solid backing.
Back ho, Baimu quickly shut the door, leaving the peculiar sll outside, lying on the bed waiting for the countdown to finish.
What will the Golden Finger be?
He felt a mix of anticipation and vague worry that it might not be a Golden Finger, but a countdown to disaster or death.
Fortunate to arrive in the Pokémon World, yet unfortunate to not have a good start.
The complex emotions left him sowhat apprehensive about gains and losses.
And just as he was lost in thought, the countdown ended.
A line of text appeared out of nowhere in his vision, flickering constantly.
[Trainer’s Life Simulator Activated, Remaining Uses: 2, Next Replenishnt Countdown: 168:00:00]
Simulator?
Baimu paused for a mont before seeing a new line of characters popping up.
[Start Simulation? Yes/No]
He took a deep breath, feeling grateful that this thing is in Chinese. Slowly, he tapped on the ’Yes,’ and then three more lines of text appeared in front of him.
[Select Your Birth Region ▽]
[Select Your Gender ▽]
[Select Your Pokémon ▽]
Baimu opened the first line, and all the Main Series Regions instantly appeared before him, but he didn’t see any Side Story Region.
He chose Kanto.
The gender had only two options, male and female.
He chose male.
As for the Pokémon selection, it was rather strange, with only one option: random. The classic Three Families of Kanto, the Pikachu as common as stray dogs, and the ordinary Pokémon Eevee were all absent.
Having no other choice, Baimu quietly clicked on random and confird his three choices.
[Please draw your Talent]
Press.
Fixed Talent:
[Novice (Slow progress in Pokémon nurturing)]
Selectable Talents:
[Careless (Pokemon health managent is rough)]
[Impoverished (Burdened by Pokémon nurturing costs)]
[Hot-blooded Youth (Always maintains a positive mindset)]
[Peach Blossoms Luck (Potential for relationship with the opposite sex)]
Baimu examined them closely, the Fixed Talent couldn’t be changed, but two Selectable Talents could be chosen.
It’s just that these four...
It seems only the latter two are sensible choices, right? Only a fool would choose the first two.
Or perhaps there’s a trap among them?
Forget it.
After all, he has two opportunities.
Baimu knew that practical experience is more effective than blind guessing, so he lit up the last two talents and confird his selection.
Instantly.
A virtual screen appeared before him, showcasing bizarre pixel animations with jumping text explanations below.
It was like a ga promo video.
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