The emergency light at the end of the corridor painted a soft orange glow across Latina's face. Her boot nudged something in the cracks between the floor tiles—half a cracked Venomoth wing—while the bent antenna of her metal detector curved neatly behind her ear like a hair accessory.
"Boss~" she called, stretching the word longer than Squirtle's maximum Water Gun range.
I stiffened. That tone. In my past life, my sister only used it when she was about to ask for something big.
"Hm?" I replied warily, straightening up—only to smack the back of my head against the dripping ventilation duct. Perfect.
"Don't you think I worked really hard today?"
I swallowed. "Not bad. Just… say what you want."
"So," she leaned forward suddenly, "I can pick any room I want to live in, right?"
When I realized she was just talking about accommodations, I relaxed. "Yeah, anywhere you want."
"Great. Then I'll take this underground storage room," she said, pointing toward the glowing white sphere in front of us.
My sigh echoed threefold through the ductwork. Figures. The system had only just finished upgrading the place after we cleared it out, and now it was sealed for a full-day renovation countdown.
Still, even if she saw everything, she couldn't take anything away—the system's "gifts" were all just data. The real valuables were safe. And honestly… letting her poke around here might even lead to something useful.
"Alright," I said at last, "it's yours. Just—since you can't actually enter today, maybe tonight—"
Snap!
I was cut off by the sound of a waterproof blanket unfurling. Latina spread it on the floor with the solemn care of covering a test subject, then placed a glowing alarm clock—clearly modified into some sort of Geiger counter—next to her pillow. Without another word, she lay down and closed her eyes.
"You… you know what, forget it." I shook my head and left her to it.
The next morning, I actually got a rare, peaceful night's sleep.
Latina and Squirtle had completely taken over maintenance duties, freeing me to focus on the next big challenge: making money.
I owed the landlord two years' rent—around 500,000 Alliance Coins. Add in utilities and repair costs, and the couple thousand I occasionally earned wouldn't even scratch the surface. Oh, and there were still over ten customers with unused credits on their recharge cards. Meaning I was obligated to provide services for free.
"System," I muttered, "you got any quick money-making plans?"
[Beep…][Query detected: "Ways to make money quickly." Analyzing based on current circumstances.]
The results appeared in a neat list:
Psyduck Gold Miner Scam — Live-stream Psyduck "telekinetically" digging up gold beads on Mt. Tsukimi. In reality, use Magnemite to attract iron sand and spray it gold. 20% success rate.
Ditto Counterfeit Factory — Turn Ditto into a banknote template. 8% success rate.
Hypno Casino Crash Course — Use Hypno to subtly confuse gamblers into misplaying. 35% success rate.
Grimer Demolition Scam — Have Grimer corrode abandoned warehouse walls, claim to have discovered ancient Pokémon ruins, and charge admission. 50% success rate.
Magikarp Leap Dragon Gate Miracle Tonic — Sell stimulant-laced "secret medicine" that supposedly triggers immediate evolution. 65% success rate.
Porygon Cyber Troll Farm — Hire Porygon to flood forums with glowing reviews of the gym. 15% success rate.
Risk Warnings:
Average survival period: 1.3 anime episodes.
Chance of arrest by Officer Jenny: 99.9%.
Chance of being poached by villains: 80%.
Chance of being stopped by a hero: 200% (they may travel through time to stop you).
Final suggestion: Become a temporary assistant for Nurse Joy. Guaranteed income, free trial pack of wound medicine, and one baby Chickorita plush.
I stared at the list. "System, you really are an artificial idiot sometimes."
[Acknowledged. Call me if you need me.]
To be fair, the Porygon idea wasn't completely terrible. The only hitch was… I didn't have a Porygon.
"Livestreaming… maybe that's an option," I mused aloud.
My thoughts were interrupted by a loud bang on the gym's iron gate. Three pairs of mud-caked sneakers stomped in, shaking off dust.
"Boss! We're here to rent the venue again!"
Their eyes widened as they took in the new holographic projector playing a skill demo, the freshly installed air-conditioning, and Squirtle casually oiling the treadmill.
"Boss," one of them said, "you weren't kidding when you said you weren't renovating… but now this place looks completely different!"
My mouth curled into a proud smile—until the girl beside him added, "Yeah, but it's not that different from other gyms now."
…Ouch.
"Anyway," the third asked, "we can still do the immersive training, right?"
I opened my mouth… and realized the honest answer was: No. No, you can't.