The city sky hung hazy with a lingering chill as the year’s first autumn rain briefly receded, leaving a quiet cold that seeped into every corner.
A few wild Fletchling perched side by side on a streetlamp, huddling together for warmth while preening their damp feathers.
A pedestrian stepped into a puddle beneath the light; the sudden sound startled the birds, sending them fluttering into the air in all directions.
Beside them, a Trubbish rummaging through a trash can jumped in surprise, hastily pulling back its hands and curling into a ball to disguise itself as an inconspicuous garbage bag.
These Pokémon, long accustomed to living in the nooks and crannies of the metropolis, had woven a unique urban ecology of their own.
Yet none of them noticed a palm-sized, cyan, planarian-like creature clinging to the lamppost.
It stared out with dorky eyes of mismatched sizes, quietly and curiously observing the world.
Until a hand suddenly pressed down right on top of it—
*Gwa—!*
“Ow, ow, ow…
My head is spinning…”
Mishiro wobbled, grabbing the lamppost to steady himself.
His hand felt a strange texture, as if he had squeezed a squishy slime or perhaps a slug.
He had no time to ponder it.
A wave of sudden dizziness and sharp pain surged over him, like long-buried memories forcing their way into the light.
He strained to stay upright, telling himself this was definitely not a sign of kidney deficiency.
“Garchomp…
Earth Power…
So much Earth Power.
And a Gym…
Wait, that reminds me…
What Gym?”
As the awakened memories merged with his present consciousness, the swelling ache in his head gradually receded, and the haze in Mishiro’s eyes cleared.
He had transmigrated—or rather, he had transmigrated long ago.
It was just that as he grew older and new memories accumulated, his memories of his past life had slowly blurred and ended up buried in the deepest recesses of his brain.
It wasn’t until this sudden injury eighteen years later that the long-sealed past was completely unlocked.
In his previous life, he had been a travel blogger who set out on the road because of his childhood love for *Pokémon*.
After graduating from university, he worked frantically for several years, bought an RV on credit, brought his dog along, and started traveling the world, capturing nature and distant landscapes with his camera.
Until one night, while parked at a roadside park and staying up late playing *Pokémon Legends: Z-A*, a runaway truck plowed into him.
The gap in stats was simply too immense—man and vehicle became a speed bump together.
Now, standing on the streets of Lumiose City, he was entirely awake.
“I really transmigrated into the Pokémon world…
If these eighteen years of life weren’t so vivid, I’d think it was a dream I couldn’t wake up from.”
Sorting through the memories of both lives, Mishiro bore the residual pain in his body and slowly walked toward home.
He didn’t notice that the cyan planarian he had inadvertently squished was quietly sliding up his sleeve and slipping into his jacket pocket.
“I’m back,” Mishiro called out habitually into the empty house as he pushed open the Gym’s side door.
He locked the door behind him and headed straight to the first-floor bathroom.
Water splashed softly.
Moments later, wrapped in a bath towel, Mishiro stood before the mirror.
A handsome face with deep, focused eyes was reflected back at him, the previous distress completely gone.
He reflected on his life in this world.
This was Lumiose City, a metropolis where cutting-edge technology and artistic brilliance converged, one of the largest cities in the world by population and land area, situated right in the heart of the Kalos region.
His parents ran a Normal-type “White Gym” in this city.
Although it couldn’t compare to the Lumiose Gym located beneath Prism Tower at the city center, plenty of challengers still came to train and build their strength.
Thus, it enjoyed a modest reputation, and his family lived quite comfortably.
However, three months ago, everything changed.
For reasons unknown, his parents vanished overnight, taking all of the Gym’s Pokémon with them.
The following day, a bizarre incident occurred in the Pyrenees Mountains at the southernmost edge of Kalos—within a hundred-mile radius, all life, whether plants or Pokémon, withered completely.
The cause remained a mystery to this day.
And from that day on, there had been no news of his parents.
“Draining all life…
Could it be the legendary Destruction Pokémon, Yveltal?”
Having recovered all his memories, Mishiro immediately associated the event with the legendary Pokémon known for its Dark Aura.
But he couldn’t comprehend how his parents could be connected to Yveltal.
For now, though, there was an even more pressing crisis.
The sudden tragedy had left him completely shattered.
Even though he had worked so hard to get into Lumiose University’s Breeder program, he hadn’t attended a single class since the semester began.
In a fit of despair, he had even dismissed all the Gym employees.
Yet the trouble didn’t end there.
According to Kalos Pokémon League regulations, only one Gym per town could receive official League certification.
All other Gyms were classified as second-tier or unranked.
While they held the right to issue badges, those badges were useless for official competition and served merely as collectibles.
Furthermore, there was a strict line drawn between second-tier and unranked Gyms.
Although second-tier Gyms lacked official certification, they still received League subsidies and certain welfare benefits.
As long as they didn’t rank in the bottom three during the annual Gym qualification review at the end of the year, they could hold onto their second-tier status.
Otherwise, they would be demoted to unranked.
Currently, the White Gym was facing the dire threat of demotion.
Once demoted to unranked, all benefits would be revoked.
At that point, no challengers would ever visit, and the Gym his parents had built over ten years would permanently close.
To pass the year-end review, Mishiro—who had previously focused solely on studying to become a Pokémon Breeder—had decided to catch his starter Pokémon and learn Trainer skills to make himself stronger.
Two days ago, he had heard a rumor that a wild “Garchomp” had strayed into the city near Yellow Plaza in the Magenta District.
Thinking it was a Gible, he spent half a day digging, only to unearth a wild Excadrill.
He took ten Earth Powers to the face before barely escaping back home.
“And then my memories returned…
Talk about ridiculous.
Earth Power can cure amnesia?
What was I thinking anyway?
Both my parents were Trainers, yet I wanted to be a Breeder, and I didn’t even have a starter Pokémon until now!”
Mishiro cursed under his breath and slapped his cheeks in the mirror.
He couldn’t bring himself to hit his face too hard—after taking ten Earth Powers, his body was still aching.
He only regretted that his memories hadn’t returned sooner.
Venting was useless.
With less than three months left before the end of the year, he couldn’t think of any way to resolve the crisis.
He simply couldn’t handle this mess on his own.
Now, he felt like just slacking off entirely.
After all, Kalos was famous for its laid-back attitude.
Who knew?
Maybe Prism Tower would explode tomorrow, Gym battles would go out of style in Kalos, or the Pokémon League would be on the verge of disbanding.
Just as the thought of giving up took root, an unfamiliar voice rang out in his mind, while lines of text projected themselves before his eyes:
[Useless trash, slacking off is forbidden!]
[As a transmigrator who has finally recovered your memories, you ought to become a revered legend in this world.
Activating Pokémon Legend System!]
[The legends of the Pokémon world should not merely be background lore.
Seek the truth behind the legends and gradually deepen your understanding of their tales!]
Mishiro gasped.
Having read his fair share of web novels in his past life, he was well acquainted with systems.
They were essentially custom equipment for modern transmigrators—though usually acquired through the passive sacrifice of one’s parents.
Wait…
Could it be?!
“So my parents going missing like orphans clocking out at the start of a web novel was your doing all along?!”
Mishiro’s pupils dilated as realization struck.
No wonder there had been no sign of a system for eighteen years, only for it to pop up right after his parents vanished!
[…]
The system displayed a string of ellipses as if speechless, then ignored his accusation entirely.
[Detected that user was deceived by a Garchomp hater and attacked by an Excadrill.
Create Legend File?]
“Huh?”
Mishiro blinked.
He had been so focused on cursing out the system that he hadn’t paid attention to its actual features.
Legend?
Shouldn’t that be related to Legendary Pokémon?
“Though I really was scammed!
Someone actually used an Excadrill to impersonate a Garchomp?
That’s sinister!”
Mishiro couldn’t help cursing the entire family of those “Garchomp haters.” They had zero Trainer ethics, specialized in deceiving pure, innocent Garchomp fans like him.
“Create!”
[Created Legend File: “The Garchomp Hater”]
[The reputation of Garchomp shall not be slandered.
Stand up where you fell.
As a Garchomp fan, you should vindicate Garchomp and prove who the true Garchomp is!]
[File Mission: Use a Garchomp to defeat an Excadrill and prove who the true Garchomp is.]
[Side Mission: None.]
[Rewards: Activate all system functions, unlock Novice Breeder Talent, Legend Points × 100.]
“Where is the Garchomp?!
Where am I supposed to find a Garchomp?!”
Seeing the mission objectives, Mishiro almost slipped on the wet floor.
Luckily, he caught himself on his jacket hanging from a nearby rack.
His face twisted in dismay.
What kind of system sets a beginner mission at nightmare difficulty?
If I had a Garchomp, would I have been thrashed by an Excadrill like this?!
Just as Mishiro was about to unleash a fresh barrage of insults at the system, a cyan planarian-like blob suddenly slipped out of his jacket pocket and dropped onto the tiled floor.
*Plop!*
A crisp sound echoed.
Mishiro’s eyes followed the noise, landing on the “cyan slime monster” staring blankly back at him.
Their eyes met, as if the gears of fate had begun to turn.
“You…”
Mishiro’s pupils shrank, his body shuddering involuntarily as he shouted in disbelief:
“You were spying on me while I took a shower?!”