The sticker shock wasn't exclusive to Cynthia. As soon as the payment confirmation popped up, the live stream chat exploded in a frenzy of disbelief.
"288 Pokédollars?! For a pixel game? It's probably only a few hundred megabytes! What kind of content justifies that price tag?"
"The developer is practically robbing people in broad daylight. A bit shameless, isn't it?"
"Even Angry Stone only costs 99! The Battle Road Season Pass is 150! Is this game made of gold?"
"It's a scam. He's using the 100,000 prize as a lure to get quick sales before disappearing. Classic rug pull."
The viewers didn't have Cynthia's keen eye. They hadn't recognized the terrifyingly accurate silhouette of Rayquaza on the cover, nor did they share her curiosity about the mysterious "Vance." To them, this was just an overpriced cash grab.
But then, Cynthia did the unthinkable.
With a calm, elegant click of her mouse, she purchased the game.
The chat froze for a split second, the scrolling text halting as if the internet itself had gasped. Then, chaos.
"???"
"No way!"
"Cynthia! I work overtime to donate to you, don't waste it on trash!"
"Boss, you're confused! Refund! Refund!"
Cynthia laughed, a soft, musical sound that smoothed over the tension. She leaned into her microphone.
"Calm down, everyone. I was intrigued because of the price."
She rested her chin on her palm, her grey eyes twinkling. "Think about it. If the content is bad, as a verified Alliance Game Tester, I can get a full refund within two hours. But if I clear it, I win 100,000. It's a low-risk investment."
The chat slowly digested her logic.
"That... actually makes sense."
"If he doesn't pay up, the Alliance police will knock down his door. Bold strategy by the dev."
"Haha, the developer probably thought no one would play his impossible game. He definitely didn't expect the Sinnoh Champion to be his first customer!"
"RIP Dev. He just sold one copy and is about to lose 100k."
"Technically 99,712. Math matters."
Cynthia smiled, relieved she didn't have to explain her real motivation: the hunt for lost mythology. Information about Legendary Pokémon like Rayquaza was classified level 10 clearance. Revealing it to the public could cause panic.
But a nagging thought persisted in the back of her mind. Someone who knows Rayquaza this well... surely they wouldn't make garbage?
288 dollars was a drop in the bucket for her. The real value was the information.
She clicked [Download].
A few seconds later, a crisp ding announced the completion. A green emerald icon appeared on her desktop.
She double-clicked. The screen went black.
A single, crystal-clear sound of a water droplet hitting a pond echoed through her speakers. Plink.
Then, dynamic, high-tempo electronic music kicked in—horns, drums, a driving beat that screamed adventure.
The black screen faded. A drop of dew slid off a vibrant green leaf, creating ripples in a pond below. The camera panned up, revealing a breathtaking pixel-art landscape.
A young boy in a green bandana rode a bicycle across a sprawling, sun-drenched grassland. The wind whipped his clothes, and the grass swayed in waves. Beside him, Pokémon ran, flew, and hopped.
A Manectric galloped with sparks trailing from its mane. A Flygon soared through the clouds. A Volbeat buzzed playfully.
And trailing behind, a tiny Torchic stumbled on its own feet, face-planted, shook itself off, and scrambled to catch up, desperate not to be left behind.
The camera soared upward into the azure sky, and the title crashed onto the screen in bold, emerald letters:
POKÉMON EMERALD
Cynthia stared.
In her six months as a streamer, she had played dozens of indie pixel games. Usually, "pixel art" was a euphemism for "we couldn't afford an artist." The graphics were often blocky, static, and crude.
This was different.
The pixels were there, yes, but the lighting, the fluid animation, the depth of field... it felt alive. It felt 3D despite being 2D.
"This," Cynthia murmured, her professional instincts kicking in. "This is not a scam."
The chat seemed to agree.
"Whoa... is that really pixel art?"
"The animation is smoother than Battle Road!"
"Okay, the music is a bop. I'm already humming it."
"Maybe it is worth 288..."
Cynthia pressed [Start].
[Please enter your name.]
She hesitated, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She typed:
Strawberry Ice Cream
She smiled to herself. It was her favorite treat.
[Welcome to the world of Pokémon, Strawberry Ice Cream! An adventure filled with courage and friendship awaits you!]
[Never forget your original intention. With bonds and passion, become the strongest Pokémon Trainer!]
Cynthia paused.
Courage. Friendship. Bonds. Passion.
The words weren't new, but something about seeing them starkly written on the screen stirred a quiet nostalgia in her chest.
"She named herself Strawberry Ice Cream again? Classic."
"Haha, imagine the Champion introducing herself like that before a title defense."
The game began.
Her character, a small girl in a green bandana, emerged from the back of a moving truck. Her in-game "Mom" greeted her. They had just moved to Littleroot Town in the Hoenn Region.
Cynthia moved her character around. The attention to detail was staggering. The crunch of grass underfoot, the reflection of clouds in the puddles, the specific architectural style of Hoenn's wooden houses... it was a love letter to the region.
"He's done his research," Cynthia noted, impressed. "This looks exactly like Littleroot."
She navigated through the intro, setting her clock and meeting the neighbor, a boy. When asked to name him, Cynthia blanked.
She typed: Black-haired Boy.
The chat groaned. "Her naming sense is truly hopeless."
Soon, her character wandered north, toward the tall grass.
"Help! Somebody help me!"
A cry rang out. Cynthia rushed forward to find a man in a lab coat being chased in circles by a small, snarling wolf-like Pokémon.
It was a Poochyena.
And the man...
Cynthia blinked. "Is that... Professor Birch?"
A dialogue box popped up: [Strawberry Ice Cream! You're just in time! Grab a Poké Ball from my bag! Help me!]
The chat lost it.
"LOL! Is that the Professor? Why is he getting bodied by a level 2 Poochyena?"
"The most respected researcher in Hoenn, defeated by a puppy. You hate to see it."
"Cynthia, save him! He's going to get his ankles bitten off!"
Three Poké Balls appeared on the screen, floating in a selection menu.
Torchic: The Fire-type chick. Orange fluff, fierce eyes.
Treecko: The Grass-type gecko. Cool, calm, with a twig in its mouth.
Mudkip: The Water-type mud fish. Derpy and adorable with a fin on its head.
These were the Hoenn Starters.
Cynthia considered her options carefully. The game warned of high difficulty. The starter was a critical choice.
"Pick Torchic! Fire types are high DPS!"
"No, Mudkip! Swampert is a tank! Only one weakness!"
"Treecko is fast! Speed is meta!"
Cynthia's cursor hovered over the green lizard. She had always admired Sceptile's agility and grace. Plus, Grass types had sustain moves like Absorb early on, which was good for survival.
"I choose you," she whispered, clicking Treecko.
Shing!
The screen shattered into a kaleidoscope of colors, transitioning instantly into a battle interface.
The music shifted—aggressive, pulse-pounding battle drums kicked in.
On the left, the back of her Treecko sprite. On the right, the snarling Poochyena.
A menu appeared: [FIGHT] [BAG] [POKÉMON] [RUN].
"Turn-based combat," Cynthia observed, her voice analytical. "It's classic. I haven't seen this used for a serious Pokémon game before. Usually, it's real-time sims."
She selected [FIGHT] $\rightarrow$ [POUND].
Treecko leaped forward, smacking the Poochyena. A chunk of its HP bar depleted.
"It seems simple," Cynthia said, watching the Poochyena growl. "You move, I move. Speed determines turn order."
The chat was skeptical.
"Turn-based? That feels kinda... outdated."
"Yeah, where's the skill? It's just math. whoever has higher stats wins."
"Great graphics, great music, but the gameplay seems shallow. 4/10."
Cynthia watched the screen, her brow furrowing slightly. Was it really that simple? Or was there something hidden beneath the retro interface?