The Viridian City sunset bled across the horizon, painting the sky in bruised purples and fiery oranges, mirroring the simmering frustration within Rouge Sora. Another day, another robbery. He clenched his fists, the words echoing in his mind: "Born weak is not a mistake; being weak is the only sin."
He sat hunched on a park bench, the chill of the evening seeping into his worn-out jacket. His gaze involuntarily drifted beyond the city's towering structures, back to the narrow alleyway where he was robbed.
Just minutes ago, three scrawny men had cornered him in the alleyway, immediately. after he had delivered a parcel.
"Hand it over, kid. All of it." The tallest one, a bald man with a scar-ridden face , had snarled, his hand resting on the Rouge's shoulder. Two others flanked him, their PokeBalls glinting ominously in the fading light.
Rouge's jaw clenched, a familiar fire kindling deep within his gut. Resistance was a reflex, an instinct he had honed across two lifetimes, but the sight of those PokéBalls, promising a quick, brutal end from a Rattata or a Spearow, brought a cold clarity. He emptied his pockets of the meager handful of Pokedollars he had earned by delivering parcels . He watched helplessly as his hard earned money vanished into the thug's pocket.
"It seems no matter which world it, if you want to take control of your own fate, you must first gain power. Born weak is not a mistake; Being weak is the only sin ", Rouge reflected as he leaned back and gazed into the distant sunset while his mind wandered back to his past.
Rouge wasn't always this broken. Once known as Kevin Williams on Earth, he was a top student from one of the best institutions in the earth. He had lost everything—his parents in a tragic accident at a young age , and years later,his own life when a mysterious truck knocked him into this strange new world.
He had previously heard about the infamous 'Truck-kun' from his friends, but experiencing it first-hand was quite a novel event .Perhaps feeling pity for his tragic life, the heavens gave him a second chance at life and so, Kevin was reincarnated into the Pokemon world .
He opened his eyes here, reborn as Rouge Sora, a wailing infant in the arms of an old man - Grandpa Gohan. The old man, though poor, had possessed a kindness that had wrapped around Kevin's shattered soul, mending pieces he hadn't known were broken. He cherished this new life, this unexpected gift, treating the old man with a reverence born of profound loss and the emptiness of his past life.
Grandpa Gohan, however, wasn't his biological grandfather. He was an abandoned infant, taken in by the solitary man . A month ago, the old man had simply… faded. He passed peacefully in the small, rustic hut.
There was not much the old man had other than his hut and his tiny garden. But in his final moments, his parched dry hand had pressed a small, smooth stone into Rouge's palm.
"This… from the Bell Tower, in Johto," Grandpa Gohan had rasped, his voice thin as dry leaves. "A blessing ... from Lugia itself. Protect it, Rouge. It holds… something important."
Rouge had clutched the stone, its surface gave a strange comfort, caused by two distinct energies surging from the stone. One was warm like the morning sun . The other was cool and soothing like the refreshing seawater .Grandpa Gohan, originally from Ecruteak City, had stumbled upon it years ago, a piece from the Bell Tower razed by lightning. He hadn't understood its true value, only that it needed safeguarding, even if it meant abandoning his home and settling in this remote corner near Viridian.
As his fingers closed around it, a jolt, cold and mechanical, surged through him.
A voice, devoid of inflection, resonated in his mind.
[Ding!]
[Energy detected. Absorbing energy. Absorption complete. System energy restored by 2%]
[Current system energy: 2%]
[Energy level is above 1% - system detection capabilities are unlocked]
Rouge stared at the information, a dizzying wave washing over him. A system? In his body? It had been there all along, dormant, simply low on energy. He remembered the vague, almost imperceptible hum that had followed him since Grandpa Gohan's passing, a sensation he'd dismissed as grief-induced phantom feelings.
In the weeks since, while traveling to the city and navigating its lawless streets, he'd experimented with this system. However compared to other powers such as Power of Viridian , aura and psychic powers his system was lacking . so far, based on his understanding of the system's functions, it had only one feature: the ability to scan or inspect pokemon.
He knew the Pokémon world, not from experience, but from the vivid, pixelated memories of his past life. He remembered the Pokedex entries, the anime episodes, the game mechanics.
However a game is a game and anime is just an animation. When compared to real life many differences became evident. Although in this world humans are stronger than those on Earth, likely due to evolving with Pokemon , without any special protection getting hit by a Thunderbolt could be life threatening unlike the anime where Ash only gets a charbroiled face and shakes it off as if it's nothing.
He'd arrived here with the naive hope of becoming a Trainer, a hero like those he'd watched on screen . The reality was a brutal awakening. Becoming a Trainer meant embracing danger and accepting the constant threat of death. It also meant significant investment.
The safest path to a starter Pokémon involved purchasing one, and even a common Rattata had a extremely high price of 10,000 Pokedollars. Elite Pokémon Hunters, a profession born of demand, could procure even pseudo-legendaries for the right price.
Since many want to be Trainers, a profession called "Pokemon Hunter" also came into being. As long as you have sufficient money , these hunters will even capture pseudo-legendaries for you.
After getting a Pokémon, the true challenge began: training, feeding, healing, equipping. Resources bled dry quickly. Being a Trainer wasn't just high-risk; it was high-investment. For someone like Rouge, an undocumented orphan from a forgotten village, the path of a conventional Trainer was a dead end.
Moving to the city, the true depth of his predicament became clear. He was a ghost on paper, no proper identification, no records. Most reputable companies turned him away. The half-decent ones exploited him, paying him pennies for grueling, back-breaking labor. The thugs, like the ones who'd just robbed him, saw his vulnerability, his lack of official standing, and preyed upon it, stripping him of his meager earnings.
Rouge pushed himself off the bench. The emptiness in his stomach gnawed, but the fire in his soul burned brighter than ever. He'd had enough. Enough of the fear, the exploitation, the constant struggle for mere survival.
Rouge had finally had enough of this miserable life. It was time to live for himself. He wanted to own his life and have control of his own destiny in this world.
"In this life, I will take control of my own destiny and one day , my name will be one heard around the world", Rouge thought as he stood up, his expression calm but his soul blazing with newfound determination.