Meanwhile, back on Earth, the young man clicked into the new livestream.
The video player went black for a moment as the stream loaded, and he frowned at the screen.
He still had no idea what this new channel was supposed to be.
Even the title followed almost exactly the same format as the Cynthia stream he had watched before.
Was someone seriously about to livestream while wearing a Gengar avatar?
Or maybe they had built an actual Gengar costume and were sitting inside it.
If that was all this turned out to be, then it sounded like the kind of painfully forced gimmick he would close after thirty seconds.
When the stream finally finished loading, however, the image on-screen made him stop.
A white figure sat directly in front of the camera, its body round and squat with two pointed ears rising from its head.
Its crimson eyes were wide open, and its vacant expression made it look as though it had completely zoned out.
Both stubby claws were wrapped around a silver can labeled Sprite.
There were plenty of things about the scene worth commenting on, but the young man barely noticed any of them at first.
The Gengar in front of the camera did not look like someone in a costume, nor did it resemble a virtual avatar.
It genuinely looked like a living creature.
He could even make out the faint mist constantly drifting from its body and the subtle rise and fall of its breathing.
The young man stared for several seconds before finally recovering.
Had virtual technology really advanced this far?
Creating a Gengar model this convincing would have to cost a fortune.
No, that still did not seem right.
The whole thing looked more like some incredibly polished prerecorded video.
While he was trying to work it out, Gengar suddenly moved.
It raised the silver can and took a careful sip, its face immediately relaxing into obvious satisfaction.
Then it leaned closer to the monitor, tilted its head as though examining something on-screen, broke into a cheerful grin, and waved.
“Gengar!”
The young man blinked.
It had just greeted him!
So this was not a prerecorded clip after all.
Someone really was controlling or performing this live.
He had originally assumed the channel was forcing a bad gimmick, but if the production quality was actually this absurd, he was willing to stick around and see where it went.
He quietly clicked Follow, then hit the share button and sent the stream to one of his friends.
[Bro, look at this.
Holy shit.
I don’t think Game Freak has this level of technology.
This is ridiculous.]
…
A few minutes later, Felix was standing in front of the Berry drink dispenser, studying the information on the system interface.
He had already used all three production attempts for the day.
According to the system, upgrading the machine would increase the number of drinks he could make each day, but it had never explained how that upgrade was supposed to happen.
Felix had gone through every visible menu he could find and still saw no obvious clue.
The more he learned about the internet café system, the more it felt as though he had only scratched the surface.
Emotion Points, Construction Points, the Internet Café Points earned by customers after their sessions—he still had no idea what most of them actually did.
The good news was that completing the system’s missions seemed to unlock additional functions little by little.
That at least gave him something to look forward to.
As Felix considered the possibilities, he glanced toward Gengar.
The Pokémon was still sitting in front of the computer with its drink.
Every now and then, it would stand up, smile foolishly at the camera, wave at whoever happened to be watching, then obediently sit back down.
Felix had explained earlier that there would be a lot of people watching it through the screen, and Gengar apparently understood the basic idea.
He could only imagine how those viewers were reacting to a huge white Gengar casually waving at them while drinking soda.
Then again, a customer’s available session time seemed to depend partly on their performance in the game and partly on how well their livestream did.
Gengar was not even playing anything.
It was literally sitting there smiling.
Surely people were not actually watching this.
Curious, Felix walked over and checked the viewer count.
[Current Viewers: 50]
Felix stared at the number.
“…What?”
It had not even been two minutes!
He looked closer and realized the chat was already scrolling at ridiculous speed.
[CostumeCollector: Streamer, WHERE did you buy that suit?
This is insane!]
[WeekendGamer: Is this actually live?!
I’ve never seen a Pokémon costume this detailed in my life.]
[NightOwl99: Same title format, same background…
Is this run by the same people as that Sinnoh Champion stream from yesterday?
Because this company is committed to the bit.]
[DonationGremlin: Streamer, why aren’t you talking?
I sent you a gift and you didn’t even thank me!]
[KeyboardWarrior: Bro, the streamer is Gengar.
Since when does Gengar speak human languages?
LMAO.]
[ShinyHunter42: Why is it a WHITE Shiny Gengar, though?
Shiny Gengar isn’t supposed to look like that.]
[SodaInspector: Am I the only one staring at the can?
“Sprite.” Absolutely shameless product placement.]
Compared with Cynthia’s streams, which already had plenty of chat activity, Gengar’s room was somehow even more chaotic.
The viewer count in the upper-right corner was still climbing.
In the time Felix spent reading the messages, several more people had already joined.
He shook his head.
Apparently, he had underestimated how much time people were willing to spend watching something strange on the internet.
Nearly a hundred people were gradually gathering in a livestream just to watch a Gengar drink soda.
Then again, when Felix thought about it from the perspective of his old life, he could hardly criticize them.
If he had stumbled across a stream like this before transmigrating, he probably would have stayed too.
This was actually good news.
At this rate, Gengar’s session rating might end up higher than Cynthia’s despite doing absolutely nothing.
That would mean even more available session time tomorrow.
Still, Felix could not leave it sitting there forever.
He should eventually find a way to make the mouse and keyboard usable for Pokémon with shorter limbs.
With that thought in mind, Felix returned to the counter and sat down.
He picked up the Dragon-type Plate fragment.
Looking at it brought another question to mind.
What exactly was going on with this world?
It clearly did not follow the original Pokémon setting perfectly.
Legendary Pokémon seemed to exist, but judging from Cynthia’s reactions, information about them was either extremely limited or deliberately hidden.
How many of the familiar regions even existed in the world as he knew it?
And where exactly was he on the timeline?
Only now did Felix fully realize how little he actually knew about the world he had been dropped into.
He had already been here for three days, yet he had spent the entire time buried deep in Mount Coronet.
The café’s computers could connect to Earth, but not to this world’s internet, leaving him with almost no way to learn what was happening beyond the mountains.
Felix sighed.
At this rate, who knew when he would finally get the chance to leave Mount Coronet and see the outside world for himself?
He idly ran his fingers over the Plate fragment while thinking.
Then he stopped.
Footsteps were approaching from outside the café.
Felix set the fragment down and stood.
It seemed Cynthia’s guest had finally arrived.