Because the game 'Pokémon' deliberately toned down its focus on story, the kind of full‑internet discussion centered on the main plot—like what happened with 'Yu-Gi-Oh!'—did not occur after release.
Most players instead immersed themselves directly in gameplay. One of the greatest pleasures of open‑world games lies in exploration, so walkthroughs and strategy guides were not a major concern. 'Pokémon' was not especially difficult; it leaned more toward collection, exploration, and worldbuilding. For most players, guides were something they only looked up after completing a run themselves, just to see what interesting easter eggs they might have missed.
As a result, discussion thread counts on major gaming forums were fairly average.
However, on review and rating websites, 'Pokémon' received unanimously high scores.
An innovative game, fresh mechanics, mature rule systems, a steady stream of newly discovered Pokémon, and the sense of fulfillment that came from capturing them through battles and quests and turning them into companions—
"It honestly feels like I'm raising real pets."
"The leveling system is great, too. It's not overly grindy, and the upgrade quests are genuinely fun."
"This is my first time playing a game like this. Are there any similar games worldwide? I'm worried I won't find anything like 'Pokémon' after I finish it."
"Finish 'Pokémon' first and then talk. But honestly, as far as I remember, this type of game really might be the Old Thief's original creation."
"I'm done for. I downloaded the game in the morning and have been playing nonstop until nine at night. I only ate breakfast. My stomach hurts."
"Don't let the game play you, bro. Moderate gaming is good for your brain—overdoing it hurts your body!"
"The balance in 'Pokémon' is insanely good. 'Kenshin' was fun, but it was brutal—I still can't beat Shishio without help mode. 'Pokémon' is different. Even if you fail to capture Pokémon sometimes, as long as you analyze attack patterns and weaknesses and choose counters, you won't get stuck for long. I've been playing since morning, and it's been pure enjoyment."
"Exactly. It's relaxed, pleasant, and deeply immersive. I rarely encounter games that keep me playing nonstop for seven or eight hours like this."
"But what exactly did the Old Thief do in this game? It doesn't seem to emphasize the story that much."
"I checked the credits. Worldbuilding design, nearly all Pokémon concept designs—appearance, skills, growth paths—and part of the numerical balancing were all handled by him. Oh, and roughly one‑third of the music was written and composed by him, too. The opening CG theme is his work."
"???"
"Isn't the Old Thief just an actor and screenwriter? He knows all that?"
"When did you ever think he was only an actor? He knows an absurd amount. Someone even filmed him drifting through corners late at night on empty streets in Modo. Look at his earlier works, and you'll see how ridiculous his skill set is."
"Street drifting in Modo? Wouldn't that get points deducted?"
"He wasn't speeding. Just advanced driving techniques, and the streets were empty. Totally legal."
"The more you analyze this guy, the more outrageous he gets. Last month it was 'Yu-Gi-Oh!', this month it's 'Pokémon'—both top‑tier quality. He produces games like he's harvesting cabbages."
"I don't even care anymore. If he keeps releasing games at 'Pokémon' and 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' quality every month, he can be an alien for all I care."
After a full day of gameplay, fans gathered on forums in the evening to chat.
Their experiences were almost unanimously positive. Unlike 'Kenshin', 'Pokémon' didn't push away players with poor reflexes.
And unlike the intense combat‑heavy design of 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' or 'Kenshin', 'Pokémon' featured a large number of cute and charming creatures. Many male players gravitated toward powerful combat Pokémon, while some female players—less interested in fighting—preferred collecting cute Pokémon, farming, and raising them.
Crucially, the game's design had accounted for these different playstyles from the start. As an open‑world game, it provided multiple approaches, allowing most players to find a way to play that suited them best.
On launch day, 'Pokémon' sold 1.59 million copies.
Most players didn't fully grasp what that number meant, but people within the game industry were stunned, especially considering the creator Jing Yu and the production company Bluestar.
"This is insane. Another game with first‑day sales breaking a million."
"Even higher than 'Yu-Gi-Oh!''s launch numbers. This is absurd."
"Since when did million‑seller launches become so common? The game costs 238 yuan. Are people in the Great Zhou really this rich?"
"It's not just domestic players. Nearly sixty percent of sales came from overseas, and its overseas ratings are even higher than at home."
"Is Jing Yu human or not? Does he not have creative bottlenecks? 'Kenshin', 'Yu-Gi-Oh!', 'Pokémon'—three consecutive games with ten‑million‑plus sales. 'Kenshin' has sold 16 million worldwide, 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' hit 10.6 million in just over a month, and might reach 20 million next year. And 'Pokémon'? From the ratings and sales alone, it might outperform 'Yu-Gi-Oh!'."
"I genuinely don't understand how his brain works."
"After dominating Great Zhou TV ratings and box office numbers, is he about to rewrite the game industry's sales records too?"
"You're only realizing that now? I heard the top five game companies in the Great Zhou have been holding nonstop meetings lately. They told their teams to study 'Kenshin' and 'Yu-Gi-Oh!'. Before they even figured 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' out, 'Pokémon' exploded."
"The worst part is that his games are nothing like the Great Zhou's traditional hit titles—and yet players love them. If he'd spent twenty years in gaming, I could accept it. But he's a screenwriter and actor. Why him?"
"I heard he's a hardcore gamer."
"So are we. Every game developer has played games for decades. Just liking games doesn't mean you can make great ones."
"I've been in game development for twenty years. The best‑selling game I worked on was 'Gate of Maria', with just over five million copies sold. Jing Yu's been in games for three years and already has five titles, breaking ten million. I refuse to accept that."
"Talent is talent. Refusal won't change that."
While players immersed themselves in 'Pokémon', Jing Yu's peers in the game industry could no longer hold back and vented wildly on professional forums.
But Pokémon's potential far exceeded their expectations.
They thought 1.59 million first‑day sales were already outrageous. On the second day, global sales surpassed two million.
Although daily sales dipped afterward, the third day still exceeded one million, the fourth day did as well, and it wasn't until the fifth day that sales fell to 860,000.
In just five days, 'Pokémon's total sales approached six million copies.
At this point, game creators and companies across both the Great Zhou and overseas all shared the same expression: confusion.
After finishing a promotional event and preparing to leave, Jing Yu happened to see a media headline:
[This Year's Hottest Game, 'Pokémon': Less Than One Week After Release, Scores Surpass 'Yu-Gi-Oh!', Nearly Locking in Game of the Year]
Jing Yu didn't even click the article. He already knew what it would say.
It would likely recount how 'Pokémon' had ignited a global craze in just days and summarize industry reactions.
As sales soared, the first wave of 'Pokémon' fans was rapidly forming worldwide. Gameplay aside, many players were completely captivated by its worldbuilding. At gaming expos around the world, 'Pokémon' cosplayers became the most numerous and eye‑catching presence.
With official merchandise not yet released, devoted fans crafted Pokémon costumes themselves, using handmade skills to promote 'Pokémon' at conventions and attract even more attention.
Players understood perfectly: if they wanted a sequel, the first installment had to sell. Though they had only played for a few days, many were already deeply hooked.
And this was exactly Jing Yu's goal.
Based on current data, twenty million copies sold was merely a starting target for 'Pokémon's first generation.
Even that number was enormous—but compared to the global IP ecosystem Jing Yu intended to build, it was only the beginning.
In his previous life, the 'Pokémon' franchise had produced dozens upon dozens of game versions, with total global sales exceeding 400 million copies. This was nothing yet.
Letting out a long breath, Jing Yu got into his car. At his level, he no longer experienced dramatic emotional swings over success.
Whether 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' or 'Pokémon', first‑generation sales alone would bring him billions in dividends.
But with his net worth already exceeding ten billion, numerical growth no longer stirred urgency.
Company expansion, influence, production, distribution, and promotion still required capital—but his motivation for continued creation had little to do with money.
More than anything, it was the satisfaction of sharing the games he loved with the people of the Great Zhou that kept him going.
"Feels pretty good."
Driving home, Jing Yu smiled as he listened to a radio analysis of 'Pokémon's performance.
For a first‑generation release to achieve this level of sales and influence, it fully met his expectations.
Once 'Pokémon's initial sales stabilized over the next week or two, Jing Yu planned to convene a company meeting. Not just 'Pokémon', but also 'Yu-Gi-Oh!', 'Kenshin' and the 'Evangelion' series would each establish dedicated game operation and development sub‑departments, launching full IP expansion plans.
His earlier first‑generation games and film projects had been modest efforts—using time to accumulate core fans.
But now, the company's production strength, funding, and—most importantly—global reputation had caught up.
With 'Kenshin', 'Yu-Gi-Oh!', and 'Pokémon' all exploding in sales, Bluestar's name had been firmly established in the global game industry.
This was the perfect moment for the company's game division to expand rapidly.
Lost in planning, Jing Yu drove home. It was already ten at night. He moved quietly, not wanting to disturb Yu Youqing if she was asleep.
But as soon as he entered the living room, he saw her sitting intently before a laptop, eyes locked on a 'Pokémon' battle.
Her expression was focused and serious, her beautiful eyes containing nothing but immersion.
Jing Yu didn't disturb her.
"Even Yu Youqing, who doesn't like games, is this absorbed…"
He paused, feeling a quiet sense of satisfaction rise within him.
Over the next few days, Jing Yu followed his plans methodically—holding meetings, assigning dedicated development teams for each major IP, and stepping behind the scenes.
With too many projects underway, he no longer had the energy to personally oversee everything. He could set a broad direction based on experience, but deep involvement in every derivative project was no longer possible.
Otherwise, even he would be worked to death.
Unlike many other game and film companies, Jing Yu wasn't fickle. He disliked indecisive management styles. Once decisions were made, they were rarely overturned.
And so, two weeks after 'Pokémon's release, Bluestar Media officially announced a series of derivative film, television, and game development plans.
That announcement landed in the fandom like a bomb.