There was no question about it.
Being a Pokémon Trainer was an extraordinarily dangerous profession.
That was especially true when battling Pokémon in the wilderness.
Without the protection of a battlefield barrier, a Trainer could easily lose their life after being caught in the aftermath of a single exchange.
In fact, among the Trainers who died each year, the largest number were killed not by direct attacks—
—but by the collateral damage of Pokémon battles.
Official tournaments were different.
Public arenas were equipped with powerful protective barriers, so Trainers and spectators did not have to worry about stray attacks or flying debris.
However, real Pokémon battles were nothing like the ones shown in anime, where a shock wave swept past and the Trainer only needed to raise an arm to block a little wind and dust.
Reality was far more brutal.
Water cannons, raging flames, lightning strikes, stone storms, earthquakes, and falling boulders came one after another.
The ground shattered, trees were uprooted, and the surrounding terrain could be destroyed in seconds.
In such an environment, even a pebble sent flying by the impact of two attacks could travel faster than a bullet.
Without a battlefield barrier—
And without a Pokémon standing beside them to provide protection—
What could an ordinary human body possibly do against something like that?
“But even so, only Trainers truly stand above everyone else.”
The sudden voice drew the attention of several students.
Many of them were still thinking about what their homeroom teacher had just said.
A few had even begun abandoning their dreams of becoming Trainers.
Their families were ordinary, after all.
Even if they became Trainers, they would probably only reach the Ace tier at best.
Worse still, there was a very real chance they would die before ever making it that far.
The student who had spoken was Suguru Natsume—
The protagonist of this story.
He had been reincarnated as a baby into this modern world where Pokémon truly existed.
There was no Ash.
No Misty.
No Brock.
No Cynthia.
None of the familiar characters from the Pokémon stories of his previous life existed here.
But Pokémon themselves were undeniably real.
Not only that, they existed in enormous numbers all across the world.
In this world, when measuring the strength of a nation, its economy was only one part of the equation.
Its true power was no longer determined by the size of its nuclear arsenal, the number of fighter squadrons it possessed, the strength of its tank divisions, or how many missiles it could deploy.
Instead, everything came down to a single question.
How many Champion-class Trainers could that nation produce?
The recognized Trainer ranks were as follows:
Rookie Tier: Levels 1–20
Regular Tier: Levels 21–40
Ace Tier: Levels 41–50
Gym Tier: Levels 51–60
Quasi-Elite Tier: Levels 61–70
Elite Tier: Levels 71–80
Quasi-Champion Tier: Levels 81–90
Champion Tier: Levels 91–100
Champions stood at the absolute summit of the Trainer world.
They were also the truest representation of a nation’s military strength.
A single Elite-tier Trainer could destroy a medium-sized city within a few hours.
A Quasi-Champion could reduce a major metropolis like Shirogane City to ruins.
As for a true Champion—
They possessed enough power to destroy a small country.
Nuclear weapons could be intercepted.
Missiles could be shot down.
Bombers could be detected before they ever reached their targets.
But how was anyone supposed to intercept a Champion-class Trainer and their Pokémon?
The answer was simple.
You sent another Champion to stop them.
The planet Suguru now lived on was more than thirty times larger than the Earth of his previous life.
Across its vast lands were nine hundred and six nations of various sizes.
Yet among those nine hundred and six nations, only a little over three hundred possessed a Champion of their own.
And among those three hundred nations, three stood above all the rest.
Japan in the East.
The U.S.A in the West.
And Japan’s neighboring nation, the Russia.
Japan and the U.S.A each possessed six Champions.
The Russia was slightly behind them, with five.
Japan alone had a population of over two billion.
Roughly half of that population were registered Trainers, yet only around one-tenth of them ultimately chose to pursue Pokémon Training as a full-time profession.
In other words—
Out of one hundred million professional Trainers, only six had managed to reach the Champion tier.
The probability was so absurdly low that it was almost impossible to comprehend.
But that was precisely why the title of Champion carried such overwhelming value.
It was also why the number of Champions had become the ultimate measurement of a nation’s strength.
Only a nation protected by a Champion could be considered truly sovereign.
A country without one could be bullied by a Champion-bearing nation at any moment.
And what could the weaker country do about it?
Resist?
Refuse to obey?
Very well.
The stronger nation could simply send one of its Champions to “take a little walk” through its territory.
Who would stop them?
Compared to professional Trainers, other Pokémon-related careers were still missing something.
Pokémon researchers, doctors, breeders, groomers, nutritionists, and caretakers could all interact with Pokémon.
They could earn impressive salaries and enjoy considerable social status.
But compared to an actual professional Trainer—
They still stood one step lower.
After all, what boy could resist the dream of commanding his own Pokémon beneath the gaze of thousands of spectators?
What young man had never imagined battling a Trainer from an enemy nation, protecting his home and becoming a national hero?
This world had placed the profession of Pokémon Trainer above all others.
And because of that, countless people dreamed of becoming one.
“You’re right.
Professional Trainers really do stand above everyone else.”
The homeroom teacher looked at Suguru and sighed with emotion.
“As a Gym-tier Trainer myself, I understand that better than most.”
The students immediately rolled their eyes.
Yes, yes.
They knew he was a Gym-tier Trainer.
They knew he was strong.
He had been their homeroom teacher for two years, and during that time, they had already heard him bring it up more times than they could count.
“All right, that’s enough for today.”
The teacher waved his hand lightly.
There was exhaustion in his expression, but also a trace of expectation.
“Go home and think carefully about what you want to do.
None of you are children anymore.
It’s time to choose the path you intend to walk.”
He picked up his teaching materials.
“Class dismissed.”
And with that, the final lesson of their second year came to an end.
After the teacher left, however, the classroom did not immediately erupt into celebration despite the arrival of summer vacation.
Instead, the students gathered in small groups and began discussing whether they should truly embark on the path of a Trainer.
“Of course I’m becoming a Trainer!
I’ve been waiting for this day forever!”
“I’ll register first and think about the rest later.
If it turns out to be too dangerous—or if I don’t have the talent—I can always change careers.”
“Both of my parents are Pokémon doctors.
I’m planning to become one too.”
By then, Suguru had already packed his belongings and left the classroom.
At the school gates, a luxury sedan was waiting for him.
Suguru walked straight toward it.
The chauffeur stepped out and opened the rear door with practiced movements.
Under the envious gazes of numerous students, Suguru calmly climbed into the car.
The Natsume family was one of Japan’s Eight Great Houses.
Its history ran deep, its connections spread across the nation, and the resources under its control were beyond anything an ordinary family could imagine.
Suguru Natsume was the direct-line grandson of the family’s current patriarch.
And honestly—
Suguru could not have been more satisfied with his identity.
Compared to those commoner protagonists who had to crawl their way up from the very bottom, he had started the game with the ultimate opening hand.
All roads might lead to Rome—
But who would not prefer to be born standing on top of Rome’s walls?
And besides—
A translucent interface appeared in the corner of Suguru’s vision.
[System Loading: 99%]
He even possessed the standard equipment of every respectable reincarnator.
A system.
There was only one problem.
It was taking an absurdly long time to finish loading.
The system had been loading ever since the day he was born.
Now, after all these years, it had finally reached ninety-nine percent.
At this rate, it should reach one hundred percent within the next few days.
Suguru leaned back against the leather seat, a faint smile appearing on his face.
A powerful family background.
An endless supply of resources.
And soon, a fully activated system.
Was this not the very definition of a perfect start?
Half an hour later, the car passed through a set of enormous gates and entered a vast private estate.
This was the ancestral residence of the Natsume family.
As one of Japan’s Eight Great Houses, the family had between three and four hundred members.
Naturally, its estate needed to be large enough to accommodate them all.
However, most of those people belonged to branch families.
There were only a little over thirty direct-line members like Suguru.
Of course, the distinction between the direct and branch lines was not entirely fixed.
Should a branch-family member become an Elite-tier Trainer—or make an extraordinary contribution to the family—they could be promoted into the direct line.
From that moment onward, both they and their children would receive the same privileges as other direct-line members.
The opposite was also true.
Someone like Suguru, who had been born into the direct line, could lose that status if they grew up to be incompetent.
Their direct-line privileges would be stripped away, and they would be demoted into a branch family.
At first glance, it appeared cruel.
However, it was precisely this merciless system of rewards and elimination that allowed a great family to remain powerful for generation after generation.