It was obvious that Cynthia wasn't the only one floored by the price—chat completely lost it and started firing off messages:
[288?? This is a little pixel game, looks like only a few hundred MB tops. How big can it be? And it dares to sell for 288??]
[The dev is so nice. He could've just robbed us, but he even made a game to give us as a "bonus"…]
[Even Angry Stones only dares to charge 99. Battle Road's Season Pass is 150. What gives this thing the right to be pricier?]
[He's just using that 100k prize as bait to cash out and run, right? Pixel art plus that kind of blurb… we've seen this scam before.]
None of them knew what Cynthia was thinking about the Rayquaza cover and the developer. To them, it was just a sky-high cash grab, so the pile-on felt natural.
After all, what decent game sells for 288?
But then, with everyone watching, Cynthia hit Purchase and confirmed payment.
Chat went dead silent.
A few seconds later it erupted again—question marks filled the screen.
[???]
[Stay calm, wife!! I can afford it, but you can't spend it like this!!]
[Whoa—you didn't even blink at 288?]
[Boss, you've lost your mind!]
…
Cynthia answered quickly.
"Don't worry, I'm interested precisely because the price is so high.
"If it's not up to snuff, I'm a test player—I can get a full refund."
"Relax. From the description it's a battle-focused Pokémon game. If I do clear it, there's a 100,000 Pokémon Dollars prize, too."
That calmed chat down a bit.
[Makes sense. If they dare write that on the League's official site, and someone clears it, stiffing the 100k would get the dev arrested.]
[haha the dev probably made it super hard so he could cash out and run, but he didn't expect the first player would be Sinnoh's Champion!]
[Right, and Nana is a League-certified test player. If she dislikes it, she can demand a refund anytime.]
[Lol, the guy just sold one copy and already owes 100k…]
[Correction: he owes 99,712. Let's be precise.]
…
Seeing chat settle into jokes, Cynthia breathed easier.
She couldn't reveal what she really cared about—the cover and her true goal. Info on top-tier "divine beasts" is classified; telling the public risks panic and other problems. She needed a reasonable on-stream excuse for buying the game.
And when she saw the price, a thought popped into her head…
Maybe this game… actually is worth it?
—Anyone who can depict the legendary Rayquaza that accurately can't be ordinary. Would they really bother making a junky cash-grab?
Besides, 288 really isn't much for her.
So: find out by playing.
Her real target was to be the first to clear the game and get the dev's contact.
With that, Cynthia took a breath and, under thousands of watching eyes, clicked Download.
The blessing of pixel games is their tiny size; seconds later, a crisp "ding" sounded and an Emerald-green icon appeared on her desktop.
She clicked. A window opened.
After a black screen, a droplet fell from a fresh green leaf. With punchy electronic music, it splashed into a pond below, sending ripples across the surface.
The camera panned up. In sunlit grasslands, a youth in a green headscarf sped by on a bicycle. Pokémon flashed by at his side, running with him—Manectric sprinting, Flygon soaring, Volbeat tailing close behind…
A cute Torchic flailed forward on tiny claws, took a spill, scrambled back up, and kept running like it was afraid of being left behind.
The shot rose again; light flooded the screen, and a jade logo flared into view—
[Pokémon: Emerald]
Even Cynthia paused at that opening.
Over the last six months, as a special tester for the League, she'd streamed plenty of games—quite a few pixel titles among them. In her experience, pixel games were crude visually and lived or died by core mechanics. They're cheap to make, the obvious choice for studios with ideas but no funding—so visuals are usually poor.
But this opening alone overturned her image of the genre. Still pixelated, sure, but polished to a shine—with a surprising sense of depth, almost like it was right in front of you.
From that single intro, she'd already made a judgment:
—There's no way this is just a slapdash cash grab.
Viewers sensed something was off, too:
[Wait… this is a pixel game?]
[Why does it look and feel so good?]
[The music slaps—I'm low-key hooked after one listen…]
[It's not on Battle Road's level, but it's way more polished than anything else I've seen!]
[Uh oh… maybe it really is worth 288?]
…
Cynthia glanced at chat and shook her head slightly.
An intro alone doesn't justify 288. It'd come down to the actual game.
Even so, she found herself… a little excited.
She inhaled, hit X as prompted, and the logo faded to a prompt:
[Please enter your name.]
She hesitated, then typed:
[Strawberry Ice Cream]
Of all sweets, ice cream was her favorite—and strawberry her go-to flavor.
Another prompt popped up:
[Welcome to the world of Pokémon, Strawberry Ice Cream.]
[A journey filled with courage and friendship awaits you!]
[Stay true to your heart—through bonds and love, become the strongest Pokémon Trainer!]
Chat exploded again.
[She still loves ice cream—I'm in tears.]
[If I told you the streamer is already the world's strongest trainer, how would you respond?]
…
Cynthia stared at the text and fell silent.
Courage, friendship…
Bonds and love…
Something flickered in her eyes. After a moment, she drew a deep breath and pressed [Start].
…
When the game proper began, her avatar—a little girl in a green sunhat—was riding in a moving truck. She hopped down, "Mom" greeted her, and explained: the family had moved to a new home in Littleroot Town, in the Hoenn region.
It was also the day to receive her starter and set off on her Trainer journey.
As she played, the refined architecture of Littleroot surprised her again. She'd never been to that town, but the buildings matched Hoenn's regional style exactly as she remembered from records—down to the wind through the grass, blooming flowers, and the townsfolk with their partner Pokémon. Everything felt alive—blurred by pixels, but vivid nonetheless.
—Can a pixel game really do this?
Advancing the story, she set the clock at home and met a boy at the neighbor's. He asked her to enter his name.
Not yet realizing he'd become her future rival, and being terrible at names, she typed "Black-Haired Boy," drawing a fresh wave of laughter.
[Nana can't name anything without ice cream involved.]
[Seeing the Champion struggle with names like me is comforting.]
Chat also started debating core gameplay:
[So we're about to pick a starter, right? In a pixel game, how do you even animate battles? Feels impossible.]
[Will it just skip battle animations? The scenery's nice enough—maybe it's more of a travel sim?]
[But the description warned about high difficulty—"hypertension and brain damage at your own risk," remember?]
…
While they debated, Cynthia guided her character to the woods above town.
A cry for help rang out. A Poochyena was chasing a lab-coated professor around.
Cynthia blinked at the professor's sprite.
Why did he look… familiar?
Wasn't that Professor Odamaki—Birch—of the Hoenn region?
"Strawberry Ice Cream! Perfect timing. There are Poké Balls in that bag—help me!"
The dialogue popped up.
Chat burst into cackles.
[Professor Odamaki, is that you? A few days gone and you've fallen this far? Getting chased by a Poochyena?!]
[Hoenn's top researcher begging Sinnoh's strongest Champion to save him from a butt-biting Poochyena—what kind of dream is this…]
[hahahahahaha 'Strawberry Ice Cream, please help me' HAHAHAHA]
[You up there—your spam is hurting my ears!]
…
The starter selection screen appeared.
Three Poké Balls:
Torchic, the orange-downed Fire-type chick.
Treecko, the cool Grass-type lizard with a twig in its mouth.
Mudkip, the honest, adorable Water-type.
Hoenn's classic trio—beginners' favorites.
Cynthia weighed her options. If this really was a high-difficulty battle game, the starter choice mattered—she'd be relying on it through the early game.
Chat chimed in:
[Pick Torchic! Torchic is adorable!]
[Mudkip is the GOAT, okay? Love my Swampert's well-rounded "pentagon" stat spread?]
[When are 4x-Grass-weak mons gonna be viable? Here—have a Grassy Glide!]
[Go Treecko. It's versatile, and Sceptile hits hard.]
…
She considered chat and her own curiosity—she'd always been interested in Treecko—and chose Treecko's ball. Grass starters also tend to have early sustain moves like Absorb and Leech Seed—handy at the start.
With a flashy ripple effect, the game cut to battle. The music surged—driving drums and orchestral-tinged synths lit a fire under the scene.
One look at the UI and options told Cynthia the combat system:
—Turn-based.
In short, each side acts in turns; higher Speed goes first.
For a pixel title, it seemed like the right call.
She ordered Treecko to use Pound while talking to chat:
"So far, it's pretty creative.
"I haven't seen a Pokémon battle game use turn-based like this before, so I'm curious how deep it goes."
Chat weighed in:
[Yeah, turn-based might be fine…]
[You go then I go sounds kinda dull. No room for mechanics—whoever has type/level wins?]
[True, could be an issue.]
[Gorgeous presentation, great music, cool idea—but if combat is a boring number check, it's weaker than Battle Road. Five stars max, overall four. Verdict in.]