A musty, damp smell filled my nose, mingling with the sharp, grating sound of steel wool scraping against cracked tiles.
I was kneeling at the bottom of what used to be a swimming pool, my knuckles white from the cold water. Three months ago, the pool had been brimming with clear, green-tinged water. Now, all that remained were moss and weeds thriving in the fissures between tiles.
"In a world where Pokémon and reality coexist, cleaning still feels like a nightmare…"
The sound of metal fibers grinding against tile echoed in the empty space. The dark green algae clung stubbornly; every time I scraped away a patch, tiny spores oozed out from the edges as if the stuff were alive.
By the time my pocket buzzed for the seventh time, I gave up resisting and pulled out my phone. Across the cracked screen flashed the words: Death Landlord. I stretched my arm as far as possible, like I was handling a live grenade.
"If you can't pay rent, then get out!" the landlord's voice bellowed through the speaker. "And tell your useless boss—the international call from Siberia cost enough to buy a Poké Ball!"
"Alright, alright… hmm? The signal's cutting out. I'll call you back later~"
I ended the call with a friendly-but-clearly-fake tone. Silence returned to the world.
"Come on, system… activate already. I don't care if you give me a Legendary—I'll find a way to win anyway." My muttering, mixed with the rasp of steel wool, startled a Pidgey dozing on the roof outside.
Ever since discovering that this was a world where Pokémon and credit cards existed side by side, I had been praying daily to any deity that might listen.
When I first arrived here, I thought it was the year 2080 on a normal Earth. That illusion shattered the moment I saw a convenience store posting that said Magnemite Charging Certificate Required, along with a bus stop ad for Magnemite Grooming Classes. That was when it hit me—I had fallen into a world where the games and reality had merged into one.
To put it simply: there were more Pikachu roaming the streets than stray dogs.
Thanks to my old-world knowledge of Pokémon stories, I managed to land a job as a low-tier trainer at a struggling training hall. The pay was pitiful, and the only perk was free room and board. Just after my three-month trial ended, the owner—frustrated with getting only one or two clients a month—vanished.
Before disappearing, he transferred the gym's legal ownership to me, pocketed the remaining funds, and set off on a grand journey to become "the strongest Pokémon Master."
I still remember his bizarre team lineup:
Gardevoir (♀) Lopunny (♀) Delphox (♀) Vaporeon (♀) Ditto (?) Jynx (♀)
He used to say, "The brave live life to the fullest first!" Well… good luck to him, I guess.
Buzz—
This time it was a short message from the Pokémon League: the gym's ownership had been officially transferred to me.
I glanced at the keychain he had shoved into my hand before running off. The Gardevoir charm dangling from it felt strangely warm now. My hands tightened on the steel wool, scrubbing harder.
[BEEP—]
A strange, mechanical sound burst in my head. I staggered, steadying myself against the wall. A pale-blue screen shimmered into view before my eyes, and the steel wool clattered to the ground.
[Host has inherited a Pokémon Training Ground. System activated.]
[Loading basic information…]
Damaged safety net (needs repair) Leaking swimming pool (pending) Moldy storage room (needs cleaning)
A rotating 3D model of the facility appeared, with the cracked pool marked by a glaring red exclamation mark. The showers showed "Mold Concentration: 87%," and the battle stage railing looked like it had been chewed by Rattata.
"The system's finally here?" I grinned. "I planned for this… but I didn't expect it would only unlock after I owned the place."
[Please select Newcomer Reward]
A. Basic Repairs (Unlock shower facilities)
B. Upgrade battle zone (attract novice trainers)
C. Mystery Event (33% chance of special assistance)
My fingertip hovered over C. "Mystery Event"… a gamble. One in three odds.
Then again… fixing the showers would mean no more heating water in a metal basin. As the owner, shouldn't I at least live a little better?
"Practicality over risk."
A burst of white light wrapped around the cluttered shower room. Everything inside flew out in a chaotic storm of objects, making the poolside even messier.
The glowing barrier read: [Under Maintenance: 23:59:32 remaining]
I sighed. "This broken system just gave me more work."
[BEEP—]
Another alert filled my vision:
[Host's strength is low. Searching for nearby Pokémon opponent…]
[Target found: Squirtle (Water-type)]
[Novice Mission: Defeat Squirtle in a one-on-one battle (0/1)]
[Reward: 1 random White-grade Skill Entry]
(Entries can be gifted, but once given away, they cannot be taken back.)
"Squirtle? Where would a Squirtle even come from?" I scanned the empty, waterless pool.
The system's minimap pointed straight to the drain.
No way. The hole was barely the size of a rice bowl. How could a Squirtle—?
I switched on my phone's flashlight and peeked in. Sure enough… a blue head stared back.
The Squirtle was much too big to have gotten through. It must have tried to enter from outside and gotten hopelessly stuck. Its condition looked bad—who knew how long it had been trapped? Without the system's alert, I might have discovered it only after it… well, started to smell.
"This has to be the system giving me a starter. Squirtle's part of the Big Three—high-end stuff for a protagonist."
Clatter, clatter—
The bright light stirred it. Its eyes snapped open.
I leaned closer.
Its mouth tightened—classic sign of a Water-type attack.
"Wait! I'm here to—"
A splash of water cut me off.