The outcome of the rematch was as predictable as it was brutal.
Under the crushing weight of the level gap and type disadvantage, Treecko didn't stand a chance. Two Embers from the over-leveled Torchic were all it took. The first scorched Treecko for two-thirds of its health bar—an even more devastating blow than before, thanks to the scaling stats.
The second Ember was the coup de grâce.
[Treecko fainted!]
The screen faded to black, the somber defeat jingle playing softly. When the visuals returned, Cynthia's character was standing shamefacedly in the Pokémon Center.
The currency counter in the top right corner ticked over with a mocking sound.
[Money: -1000]
In the chat, the audience went feral.
"Oh my god! When he said 'I won't fall behind,' he literally meant he's hard-coded to always be one level higher!"
"This developer is a sadist! Why does the AI scale with the player? That's illegal!"
"Hahahaha! Look at the money! Negative one thousand! The Champion is officially bankrupt!"
"Debt Simulator 2025."
Cynthia ignored the scrolling wall of text. She sat back in her gaming chair, her fingers drumming rhythmically on the armrest. Her grey eyes were narrowed, focused not on the defeat, but on the puzzle beneath it.
Clearly, the developer had anticipated the grinding strategy. He had blocked the brute-force path by ensuring the rival leveled up alongside the player.
If I can't out-level him, she thought, her mind shifting into battle tactician mode, I have to out-maneuver him.
The biggest issue was the type disadvantage. Grass versus Fire. Treecko's frail defenses couldn't survive the multiplier.
I need a pivot.
Her eyes lit up. Wait. Professor Birch gave me five Poké Balls.
She could catch a Pokémon in the tall grass to counter Torchic. A Water-type, or even a Rock-type, would turn the tables completely.
It sounded simple. But as she opened the menu to check her Bag, she noticed a rule set she had glossed over earlier.
[Rule: Party Capacity Limit.]
[Current Limit: 2 Pokémon.]
[Max Game Limit: 15 Pokémon.]
[Warning: Once a Pokémon is captured, it cannot be released. You must carry your partners until the end of the journey.]
Cynthia paused, reading the text twice.
Most games allowed you to catch hundreds of creatures and box the ones you didn't need. This game... restricted you to a handful. And it forced commitment.
"Hardcore," she whispered.
But instead of annoyance, a strange warmth bloomed in her chest.
"Partners, not tools," she mused. "Even in a game... you can't just discard them when they stop being useful."
This rule resonated with her deeply. It mirrored her own philosophy as a Champion. But strategically, it was a nightmare. She had to be incredibly selective. If she caught a random Zigzagoon just to beat this rival, she would be stuck with it forever, taking up a valuable slot in her limited team.
She needed a Pokémon that could defeat Torchic and be viable for the late game.
Cynthia closed her eyes, mentally cataloging the Pokémon she had encountered on the route so far. Poochyena... Wurmple... Wingull...
Just as she was formulating a plan, a sharp, intrusive sound shattered her concentration.
Ring. Ring.
Her smartphone, resting face-up on the desk, lit up.
Cynthia glanced at the caller ID. Her expression tightened instantly. She picked it up, sliding the answer button.
"Report," she said, her voice dropping the playful streamer persona entirely.
A voice crackled through the speaker, low and urgent. "Champion Cynthia, I apologize for interrupting your vacation. But the readings from the Old Chateau are spiking. The Pokémon in the Spirit World have become agitated. We suspect a new tear in the fabric of reality is forming near Eterna City. We need your support."
Cynthia's jaw set firmly. "Understood. I'm on my way."
She hung up and turned back to the camera. The playful gamer was gone; the Sinnoh Champion sat in her place.
"I'm sorry, everyone," she said, her tone apologetic but firm. "Something urgent has come up. I have to end the stream here."
"I'll be back as soon as I can. Please wait for me."
She cut the feed. The screen went black.
The chat lingered in the dark.
"Noooo! Mom is leaving!"
"Just when it was getting good!"
"It must be Alliance business. Did you hear her tone change?"
"Yeah, I heard rumors about Eterna City being weird lately. Probably ghosts."
"Well... stream's over. Time to go."
"Wait," one user typed. "Brothers, why don't we just buy the game and try it ourselves?"
"Holy crap. You're right. It's public!"
"Let's go! I want to see if that Torchic is really that broken!"
A wave of viewers, hyped by the brutal difficulty and the high-quality pixel art, flooded the game store. Despite the hefty 288 price tag, curiosity won out.
Of course, not everyone was convinced.
"288 for pixels? No thanks. I'll wait for a sale."
"I'm broke. I'll just wait for Cynthia to come back."
But the seed was planted. Even if only 1% of her 200,000 viewers bought it, that was a massive surge for an indie title.
High above the clouds, Sinnoh Region.
The wind roared like a physical beast, tearing at clothes and hair, but the figure riding the dragon didn't flinch.
A streak of deep blue lightning cut through the atmosphere.
It was a Garchomp. The Mach Pokémon. Its scales were like armor plates, dark blue and shark-skin rough. It moved with the aerodynamic perfection of a jet fighter, its jet-engine horns slicing the air.
Sitting comfortably on its back, arms crossed, was Cynthia.
Legally, flying on Pokémon over populated cities was restricted. But she was the Champion. The rules were different for the realm's protector.
Her long blonde coat snapped behind her in the slipstream, but her mind wasn't on the mission ahead. She wasn't thinking about the ghosts of Eterna City.
She was thinking about Torchic.
That NPC... she thought, watching the clouds blur past. He leveled up. The AI adapted.
If the beginner rival was this oppressive, what kind of monsters awaited her in the Gyms? What about the Elite Four?
A thrill of anticipation, sharp and electric, shivered down her spine. It had been years since she felt genuinely challenged.
And the developer...
She narrowed her eyes against the wind. Vance.
Who was he? To create a game this punishing, this detailed... and to know the secrets of Rayquaza.
I need to find him.
If someone cleared the game before her and claimed the contact ID, she would lose her lead.
"Resolve the Spirit World breach quickly," she muttered to herself. "Then get back to the game."
Her phone buzzed against her hip.
She pulled it out. No number. Just a chaotic string of garbled code dancing on the screen.
Cynthia blinked, then a small smile touched her lips. She answered.
"Hello, Cynthia," a lazy, digitally distorted voice drawled in her ear. "Long time no see. Did you miss me?"
"You're out early," Cynthia said, her voice warming. "I expected you to be in the 'hole' for at least another month."
"The firewall was weaker than expected," the voice chuckled. "Fewer weirdos in the network this time. We cleaned up and got out."
"Perfect timing," Cynthia said. "I need a favor. Can you find someone for me?"
The voice perked up, sounding amused. "Oh? Who has caught the eye of the Sinnoh Champion? An Alliance fugitive? A dark syndicate boss? Or... a mad scientist?"
"None of the above," Cynthia said. "I'm looking for a game developer."
Dead silence on the other end.
"...Hah?"
"Cynthia," the voice sighed, sounding exasperated. "You know my skills are for national security and top-tier data retrieval, right? You want me to dox a game dev so you can send them hate mail?"
"It's not like that," Cynthia corrected quickly. "He... might have information regarding Rayquaza."
The playful tone vanished from the line.
"I suspect he's using a pseudonym," Cynthia continued. "I need to know if it's a studio or an individual. Dig him up for me."
"Say no more," the voice said, crisp and professional now. "I'm on it."
"Thank you. I'll treat you to dinner later."
"I'll hold you to that. Steakhouse. Canalave City pier. Your treat."
Click.
Cynthia pocketed the phone, feeling a weight lift. With that person on the job, finding Vance was a certainty.
"Now," she whispered, leaning forward and patting Garchomp's rough neck. "Let's speed this up."
"Garchomp, Extreme Speed."
"GAAAAAR!"
The dragon roared, and with a sonic boom that shattered the cloud layer, they vanished into the horizon.
Six hours later.
Veridia City, Kanto.
"Mmm... good sleep."
Liam Vance groaned, shifting on his lumpy mattress. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up, his spine popping.
The room was dark, the only light coming from his computer monitor which had gone into sleep mode. He reached for his phone to check the time.
His eyes widened.
Notifications were cascading down his lock screen like a waterfall.
[Play-U Platform: Your game 'Pokémon Emerald' has sold 1,823 copies today!]
[Play-U Platform: Sales update +50...]
[Play-U Platform: Sales update +12...]
Liam stared, his brain struggling to reboot.
Huh?
It hadn't even been twenty-four hours.
He had fought the System on the price. $288 was insane. He expected zero sales. He was ready to eat instant noodles for another month.
But nearly two thousand copies?
"Are people in this world just made of money?" he muttered, bewildered.
Before he could process the wealth, a golden text box floated into his vision.
[Ding! Summary of Rest Period Rewards]
[You have gained a large amount of Emotion Points!]
[Source: Disdain, Shock, Anticipation, Joy (Live Stream Audience): +320 Points]
[Source: Game Purchasers: +100 Points]
[Source: Important Character 'Sinnoh Champion — Cynthia' (Surprise & Anticipation): +300 Points!]
Liam froze.
Cynthia?
"The Champion played my game?"
He laughed, a short, disbelief-filled sound. "No wonder it sold. I got the best endorsement in the world by accident."
300 points from her alone. She must have really enjoyed—or hated—it.
"Great start," Liam said, rubbing his hands together. "With these points, I can unlock the advanced Audio Module. Maybe even the Intermediate AI."
He stood up, stretching his arms over his head. "But first, face wash. I need to wake up properly."
He turned away from the desk.
As he moved, a sudden, bone-deep chill washed over him. It wasn't just a draft. It was a cold that sank into his marrow, accompanied by the distinct, heavy feeling of being watched.
The hair on his arms stood straight up.
Liam froze. He slowly turned around.
"Am I... still dreaming?"
He wasn't.
Floating in the corner of his room, illuminated by the pale moonlight filtering through the curtains, was a small, white creature.
It had a round, waxy body.
It had two dark, soulless green eyes.
And atop its head burned a flicker of deep, ghostly purple fire.
It stared at him. He stared at it.
The silence in the rental room was deafening.
"Holy— GHOST! AHHHHHHH!"