Kai woke to the sound of footsteps and cheerful voices, the kind of morning bustle that belonged to people with places to be and futures to look forward to. He was still in the alley behind the closed shop, his back against rough brick, his makeshift bandage crusted with dried blood. The sun was barely up, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange that would've been beautiful if he'd had the luxury of caring about sunrises.
He didn't.
What he cared about was the hollow ache in his stomach, not the vague "I skipped breakfast" kind of hunger, but the deep, gut-clenching emptiness that made his hands shake and his vision swim at the edges. His last meal had been... when? The fragmented memories of his new body suggested it had been at least a day, maybe two. Whatever food wrapper had been in his pocket yesterday was long empty.
Kai tried to stand and had to brace himself against the wall as his legs protested. Hunger wasn't just uncomfortable. It was crippling. All his meta-knowledge, all his tactical genius, and he was being beaten by basic biology.
He needed food. Now.
The town was already awake by the time he stumbled onto the main street, trying to look purposeful instead of desperate. The smell hit him immediately: fresh bread from a bakery across the street, something savoury cooking in a café nearby, and the sweet scent of berries from a fruit stand. His stomach twisted painfully, and he had to close his eyes against the wave of dizziness.
A group of trainers walked past, chattering excitedly about their plans for the day. One of them was eating a pastry, crumbs falling carelessly to the ground. Kai watched those crumbs like they were gold coins.
"—Gonna catch a Caterpie today, evolve it into Butterfree by next week—"
"—Did you see the Poké Ball sale at the Mart? Buy five, get one free—"
"—Mom sent me another care package; I swear she thinks I'm starving out here—"
They disappeared around a corner, leaving Kai standing in the middle of the street, invisible. Not just ignored, actually invisible, like he existed in a different layer of reality than these kids with their starter Pokémon and their parents' care packages.
The bakery's window display mocked him with rows of golden pastries. The price sign next to them might as well have been written in a foreign language. ₽200 for a single roll. He had zero. Less than zero, since zero implied he had the capacity to earn money.
Kai's jaw clenched. Okay. He needed food, which required money. Money required work. Work required... what, exactly?
He tried the café first. The owner, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes that turned cold when she took in his appearance, barely let him finish asking.
"We're not hiring."
"I can wash dishes, clean tables, whatever you—"
"I said we're not hiring." Her tone was final. "You got a Trainer ID? League registration?"
"No, but—"
"Then I can't employ you." She turned away, conversation over.
The Poké Mart was next. The teenager behind the counter looked uncomfortable the moment Kai walked in, tracking him like he might steal something.
"Can I help you?" Translation: 'Are you going to buy something, or should I call security?'
"Looking for work. Stock shelves, deliveries—"
"Need a League registration for that."
"I don't have—"
"Then I can't help you." The teenager's hand drifted toward something under the counter. Probably an alarm.
Kai left before he got thrown out.
Three more shops. Same response. One woman actually wrinkled her nose when he approached, like poverty was contagious. Another man just shook his head before Kai could even speak, pointing at a small sign by the door: REGISTERED TRAINERS ONLY.
The Pokémon world, Kai was learning, had a caste system. And he wasn't even in it.
He found himself back near the Pokémon Center, watching trainers come and go through the automatic doors. A boy, who couldn't have been more than eleven, walked out with three Poké Balls on his belt and a bag that clinked with the sound of Potions. Behind him, an older girl was showing her Pokédex to a friend, the red device gleaming in the morning sun.
Registered trainers. All of them. Part of the Alliance, which apparently was the only thing that mattered in this world.
Kai's fragmented memories supplied the context his old life couldn't have known. The Pokémon League Alliance wasn't just about gym battles and tournaments. It was infrastructure. Healthcare (for Pokémon). Banking. Legal identity. Employment. Everything ran through the Alliance, and you couldn't access any of it without registration.
And you couldn't register without one of two things: a parent or guardian who was already registered, or sponsorship from someone with influence. A Professor. A Gym Leader. A wealthy family.
Kai had none of those things. His new body's memories were murky on family. Probably dead, possibly abandoned, definitely not registered. And sponsorship? He was a nobody with dirty clothes and a bite wound. No Professor was going to vouch for him.
He was locked out of the system entirely. A glitch in the world's code, unrecognised and unregistered.
The irony wasn't lost on him. In his old life, he'd been ranked #87 globally. Here, he was literally a zero in the database.
A young kid, maybe eight or nine, walked past with a Poké Ball clipped to his belt, so new the red casing still had the factory shine. His mother walked beside him, smiling indulgently as he chattered about catching his first Pokémon. The ball swung loosely on his belt, barely secured.
Kai's hand twitched.
One grab. One moment of distraction. The kid wouldn't even notice until Kai was gone.
His mind ran the calculation. The ball was worth... what, ₽200? Maybe he could sell it, buy food, and survive another day. Or keep it, catch something, start building toward—
His stomach growled, loud enough that an older woman passing by glanced at him with barely concealed disgust. Kai's hand relaxed. No. The risk was too high. If he got caught stealing, that was jail. And jail meant no freedom, no future. Game over before he'd even started.
But watching that kid walk away with his shiny new Poké Ball, something given to him like it was nothing, like everyone deserved one just for existing, made something dark twist in Kai's chest. That kid hadn't earned it. Hadn't suffered for it. Hadn't calculated optimal catch rates or memorised type matchups or spent thousands of hours perfecting strategies. He just... got it. Because his parents were registered. Because the system recognised him.
Kai quickly turned away before he did something stupid.
By midday, Kai was back on Route 1.
He'd tried everything in this town. Every shop, every odd job, every possible angle. Nothing. The message was clear. If you weren't registered, you didn't exist. And if you didn't exist, you didn't eat.
So he'd have to forage.
Route 1 looked different in daylight, less menacing but no less dangerous. Wild Pokémon were everywhere; he could see a Pidgey perched on a fence post, a Rattata scurrying through the grass, and something larger moving in the tree line. His arm still throbbed from yesterday's bite, a constant reminder that this world's creatures weren't pixels on a screen.
But he also knew something else: Berry trees grew on routes. The games always had them, scattered generously for players to stock up between towns. If this world followed that logic, even partially, then food was out here somewhere.
He just had to find it without getting killed.
Kai moved carefully, staying on the path, watching for movement in the grass. His meta-knowledge helped here, knowing which Pokémon were aggressive, which were territorial, and which could be safely ignored. A Caterpie crossed the path ahead of him, and he let it pass without incident. Bug-types at this level were defensive, not predatory.
A Spearow cried overhead, and Kai immediately ducked. Spearow were aggressive fliers, known for dive-bombing anything that moved. He waited until it circled away before continuing.
Twenty minutes of careful walking brought him to a cluster of trees off the main path. And there, partially hidden behind tall grass, was a Berry tree. The fruit hung in small clusters, blue-purple in colour. Oran Berries, if his game knowledge was correct. Edible for both humans and Pokémon, mildly healing, and most importantly: food.
Kai's stomach clenched at the sight. He started forward, then froze.
A Pidgey sat in the tree's lower branches, small head cocked, watching him with one beady eye. Not just watching, guarding. Its posture was territorial, wings slightly spread, ready to dive.
Of course. Berry trees attracted wild Pokémon. Why wouldn't they claim them?
Kai backed away slowly, mind racing. He couldn't fight it. He had no Pokémon, no weapons besides the scrap metal in his pocket, and he'd already learnt what a level 2 Rattata could do. A territorial Pidgey would be worse. Flying types had reach, speed, and sharp talons.
But he also knew something else: Pokémon AI, even in the real world, seemed to follow patterns. The Rattata had charged in a straight line. The Spearow had circled predictably. And Pidgey, in every game he'd ever played, was territorial but easily distracted.
Audio aggro. That's what speedrunners called it. Make a noise in one direction, move in another.
Kai scanned the ground, found a decent-sized rock, and weighed it in his hand. The Pidgey was still watching him, but its attention wasn't locked. It was just... monitoring threats.
He threw the rock.
Not at the tree; that would've triggered an immediate attack. He threw it into the grass about twenty feet to the left, where it landed with a loud thump and a rustle of vegetation.
The Pidgey's head snapped toward the sound immediately. It chirped, a sharp, aggressive sound, and launched from the branch, diving toward the disturbance.
Kai didn't hesitate. He sprinted to the tree, grabbed two Oran Berries from the lowest cluster, and ran. Behind him, he heard the Pidgey's angry cry as it realised it had been tricked, but by then he was already twenty paces away, legs pumping, lungs burning.
He didn't stop until he was back on the main path, heart hammering, clutching the Berries like they were made of diamonds.
The Pidgey, as expected, didn't follow. They were territorial, not vengeful.
Kai slowed to a walk, chest heaving, and looked down at the two Berries in his hands. They were small, no bigger than apples, with tough skins that smelt faintly sweet. He bit into one immediately, not caring about presentation or taste, just needing food.
It was tart and slightly bitter, with a weird aftertaste that coated his tongue. He didn't care. He ate the entire thing, seeds and all, and started on the second before he'd finished swallowing the first.
It wasn't enough. His stomach was still empty, still aching. Two Berries might keep him alive, but they wouldn't sustain him. He'd need more. Tomorrow, the day after, every day until he found a way out of this nightmare.
But for now, sitting on the edge of Route 1 with juice running down his chin and the taste of stolen food in his mouth, Kai had achieved something.
His first victory.
Not a battle. Not a capture. Not a ranking on a leaderboard. He'd tricked a Pidgey, stolen its food, and survived another day.
It was pathetic. Humiliating. The kind of thing he would've laughed at in his old life. Imagine bragging about outsmarting a level 3 Pidgey.
Kai stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and looked back toward town. The trainers there had their Poké Balls, their Pokédex, their bright futures mapped out by a system that recognised them.
He had two stolen Berries and a lifetime of competitive Pokémon knowledge.
It would have to be enough.
Because the alternative, giving up, accepting his place as invisible, forgotten, nothing, wasn't an option. He'd clawed his way to #87 global rank through pure spite. He'd made players rage quit, written essays that changed the meta, and built teams that made people hate the game.
This world thought it could break him by starting him at zero?
Fine.
He'd just have to show it what zero could do when it stopped caring about rules.
The Alliance had locked him out. The system pretended he didn't exist. So he'd survive outside the system. And when he finally clawed his way back up, when he had a Pokémon, a strategy, and a way to compete, this world would learn what it meant to face someone who'd already lost everything.
Someone who knew exactly how to make everyone else lose too.
The sun was starting to set, painting Route 1 in shades of orange and gold. Somewhere in the distance, a Pidgey cried. Maybe the same one, maybe another. Kai didn't care.
Tomorrow, he'd need more food. More Berries. Maybe he'd find a way to trap small Pokémon without a ball and butcher them for meat like in actual survival situations. Maybe he'd find discarded items, old Potions, anything he could sell or trade.
One day at a time. One stolen Berry at a time.
Kai walked back toward town as darkness fell, his stomach less empty but still aching, his mind already planning tomorrow's route, tomorrow's theft, tomorrow's survival.
In his old life, he'd made people type "Why even play like this?" after losing to his Trick Room team.
In this life, he'd make them ask the same question.
He just needed to survive long enough to do it.