Unsurprisingly, Zane's first two test scores were flawless.
With only about twenty applicants in total, it didn't take long for the proctors to grade everything. The final results were a foregone conclusion: whether it was the written exam, the practical assessment, or the interview, Zane was the undisputed number one.
Having passed the evaluation, the rest of the hiring event was irrelevant to him.
Led by one of the school's teachers, Zane was shown to the faculty dorms. Looking around the small apartment that would be his first real home in this world, he finally allowed himself to relax, just a little.
"Your class schedule won't be ready until tomorrow, so just take today to rest and settle in," the teacher said kindly.
Zane nodded. He watched as the teacher pulled a small booklet from his pocket. "Oh, and here. This is the basic school rulebook. You can look it over to get familiar with things."
"Sounds good," Zane said, taking it.
With that, the teacher left.
The apartment wasn't large, but compared to the student dorms of his past life, it was practically a luxury suite. A bedroom, a living room, a kitchen, and a bathroom—it wasn't much, but for a single guy, it was more than enough.
Man, Zane thought with a wry smile, my college dorm was a total shithole compared to this.
After a quick tour of his new place, he went to the kitchen to boil some water. While waiting, he let Cramorant out of its Master Ball.
He stroked its head. Even though he knew the bird couldn't understand him, he asked anyway, "You hungry? Want something to eat?"
Cramorant just tilted its head.
The dead fish from the forest was long gone, tossed in a trash can. All Zane had left were a few Berries. He thought for a moment, then fed them all to Cramorant. Seeing the bird happily gobbling them down, he finally picked up the rulebook and started to read.
According to the booklet, any child who turned ten years old was eligible to receive a starter Pokémon from their local Pokémon Professor. The League would provide the Professor with the three regional starters for the new trainers to choose from.
But, of course, there was a catch. Not everyone got this privilege.
The big, powerful families didn't need it; they provided their kids with Pokémon far rarer than the standard starters. The kids who did get a starter from the Professor were either directly connected to the League or came from well-off, comfortable families who wouldn't have to worry about the cost of raising a Pokémon—kids like Ash and his rivals from the anime.
As for the commoners and the poor? They were out of luck. Zane guessed the League probably figured they couldn't afford the upkeep.
That didn't mean they couldn't become trainers, however. The League wouldn't hand them a starter, but they were free to find one on their own. It was a harsh reality, but it did little to dampen the public's love for Pokémon and the dream of becoming a trainer.
Before any kid could start their journey, though, the League mandated three years of compulsory schooling for children between the ages of seven and ten. They were taught the basics of Pokémon and training, alongside a normal academic curriculum. After those three years, any kid who wanted to become a trainer could graduate and set off. Those who weren't interested, or those who started a journey and decided it wasn't for them, could choose to continue on to higher education to study subjects like physics, math, and literature.
This place, the Petalburg Pokémon Elementary School, was one of those compulsory schools.
After skimming the booklet, Zane had a much clearer picture of how this world worked.
Meanwhile, back in the main school building, Principal Kiriyama sat at his desk, looking over the applicants' test papers. Out of more than twenty, only one had a perfect score: Zane.
He nodded, satisfied. Just then, a teacher in charge of new hire registration walked in and handed him a form.
Kiriyama glanced at it, and his eyes widened. "He's only ten?"
Because Zane had claimed to be twelve, the principal hadn't known his true age. Seeing it now on the official registration was a genuine shock.
The teacher hesitated. "Principal, isn't that age a bit… inappropriate for this position?"
Kiriyama recalled Zane's performance during the interview. "That boy," he said thoughtfully, "is smarter than some of the adults who applied."
It's true that some children who lose their parents are forced to grow up faster, he reasoned. They become more alert, more wary of the world. And that would be doubly true for a child who had lived in isolation his whole life, who had never even been to a city.
He probably claimed to be twelve because he was afraid people would refuse to give him a job because of his age.
The more he thought about it, the more logical it seemed.
For a moment, Principal Kiriyama found himself wondering just what his reclusive, scholarly parents had taught him all those years in the woods. He sighed, deciding it wasn't his place to pry into the boy's past. "Let's not worry about it for now," he said. "First, let's see how he performs as a teacher. If he does well, then he's our guy. You can get back to your work."
"Yes, sir," the teacher said and left the office.
Zane, of course, knew nothing of this.
That evening, a friendly teacher came by to invite him to dinner. Zane glanced at Cramorant, who was fast asleep, and decided not to disturb it.
"Does the school cafeteria provide food for the teachers' Pokémon?" Zane asked.
"It does, but it's just basic stuff to fill their bellies," the male teacher replied. He followed Zane's gaze to the sleeping bird. "Whoa, I've never seen a Pokémon like that before! Are you its trainer?"
Zane recited his prepared lie. "It's from the Galar region. It was a gift from my parents."
This teacher, a young guy who looked to be in his late teens, had clearly heard Zane's tragic backstory. "Oh, man," he said, looking embarrassed for bringing it up. "Sorry."
Zane was already feeling numb to the pity. "It's fine," he said, his face impassive. "You can't bring back the dead."
The teacher recovered quickly, slinging a cheerful arm around Zane's shoulders. "That's the spirit! Good to see you're thinking positively! Come on, I'll take you to dinner! By the way, the name's Tsuyoshi Nishida. You can call me Tsuyoshi-bro!"
"Okay," Zane replied under his breath.
The guy's vibe reminded him of his goofy college roommates. He was so cheerful and extroverted that by the end of one short dinner, Zane had been introduced to half the school's faculty through him.
Just as the dinner was about to escalate into a full-blown welcome party, Zane made his escape, grabbing a takeout container of Pokémon food on his way out of the cafeteria.
By the time he got back to his room, the sun had set and the sky was dark.
CLICK.
The bright overhead light flooded the room. The spot where Cramorant had been sleeping was now empty.
Zane's heart skipped a beat, but then he remembered the bird's morning fishing expeditions and managed to calm down. Still, he couldn't completely relax.
He was worried. Not for Cramorant, but because of it.
If some wild Pokémon attacked it and it unleashed that nuke-level counter-attack... what would happen? He wasn't worried about the bird losing; he was worried about the collateral damage. If that blast hit an innocent person or some expensive piece of property, he'd be in debt for the rest of his life. They could sell him for parts, and it wouldn't be enough to cover it.
Fortunately, he didn't have to worry for long.
A few minutes later, Cramorant flew in from the darkness outside, a fish dangling from its beak. It landed neatly on his desk.
Seeing it, Zane let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
He pulled up a chair, opened the container of food he'd brought back, and pushed it toward the bird. "Here, eat up."
Cramorant tilted its head. It dropped the half-dead fish from its mouth and nudged it across the desk toward Zane.
Zane couldn't help but laugh. "What, are you trying to provide for me now?"
The bird's eyes and expression remained as blank and dopey as ever. It gave no reply.
Sitting there in the warm light of his new room, Zane suddenly felt a strange wave of emotion. He thought back to the text from his editor's scan, the line that had become the title of this strange new chapter of his life.
It loves you more than it loves itself.
Even if its brain was scrambled, even if it couldn't understand a single word he said, it hadn't forgotten how to love its trainer.
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Read 10 advance chapters at patreon .com / MightyJahseh