Peter shifted his focus back to the Talent section.
"Maximum Talent… 490?"
He frowned slightly.
"Isn't that just the base stat total?"
Peter remembered clearly—Miltank had a base stat total of exactly 490.
According to game mechanics, each Pokémon had different individual values, while base stats were tied to the species itself.
Which meant—
This so-called Talent was likely a combined value of species potential + individual aptitude.
In simple terms, the upper limit of the Miltank species was 490, and this particular Miltank wasn't an especially gifted individual, sitting at 401.
Beyond that, Peter also confirmed that move proficiency was divided into four tiers:
Learned → Proficient → Mastered → Transcendent
The late Gym Leader's Miltank possessed a Transcendent-level combo of Defense Curl and Rollout, allowing it to freely ram opponents while rolling at will.
"So proficiency is the prerequisite for creating combo techniques…"
Peter stroked his chin, gradually digesting all the information.
Next, his gaze landed on the Held Item slot.
Based on his understanding of this world, Trainers almost never used held items during battles.
Meanwhile, Peter's mind filled with images of Focus Sash, Bright Powder, Rocky Helmet, Leftovers, and other competitive staples.
"If items were allowed in battles," he muttered,
"wouldn't you just steamroll everyone?"
Of course, it was also possible that he simply hadn't entered the core Trainer circles yet and didn't fully understand item usage in this world.
Lost in thought, Peter suddenly felt his consciousness shift.
In the next instant, a futuristic, tech-styled interface appeared before his eyes.
Four buttons hovered in the air:
Missions · Pokémon · Bag · Gacha
Only then did Peter realize—
He needed to actively focus to access the system interface.
Unsurprisingly, both Pokémon and Bag were completely empty.
When he opened the Mission panel, only a single task lay quietly inside.
Main Quest: Set Out on a Journey
Requirement:
Obtain your first Pokémon and begin your journey.
Reward:
New Player Gift Pack
…
"Starter Pokémon, huh…"
Peter fell into deep thought.
After years of saving, he now had close to 200,000 Poké Dollars.
On the black market, even starter Pokémon could technically be purchased.
But Pokémon sold that way were usually rejects left behind by Pokémon Hunters—poor Talent, potential trauma, or hidden issues.
Now that he had system-based scanning, Peter could instead filter high-quality individuals from wild Pokémon.
Better to save the money for travel expenses.
"Wild populations…"
Peter began thinking seriously.
What tempted him most in the Johto Region was Tyranitar.
Failing that, heading to Blackthorn City's Dragon's Den to snag a Dragon-type hatchling wouldn't be bad either.
But those were just dreams.
Even a high-quality starter Pokémon was already a luxury beyond reach.
Shaking his head, Peter opened the Gacha panel.
The interface was extremely simple.
At the center sat a poop-yellow button labeled:
[Start Gacha]
Driven by curiosity, Peter tapped it.
[Ding! Master Gacha requires 10 Master Points.]
[Insufficient balance. Please recharge.]
"…???"
Peter stared at the recharge prompt floating on the screen.
Why did this feel exactly like one of those pay-to-win mobile games from his past life?
After hesitating for a moment, he tapped [Go to Recharge].
He wanted to see how this thing charged him.
[Ding! Converted 70,000 Poké Dollars into 7 Master Points.]
[Please confirm gacha draw.]
"…WHAT?!"
Peter's brain short-circuited.
"Hold on—there's no confirmation step?! You just TAKE the money?!"
…
Direct deduction?!
And how did you even deduct it?!
My bank card is still in my pocket!
At that exact moment, Peter's phone chimed.
[Ding—Tomato Bank notification:
70,000 Poké Dollars spent. Transaction successful.]
"￥#@%&*…!!!"
Peter exploded into curses, tears streaming down his face.
That was over ten years of savings!
Gone in an instant—nearly halved!
What kind of scam bank doesn't even ask for confirmation?!
After a long period of mental collapse…
Peter finally went silent.
The money was gone.
There was no getting it back.
All he could do now was pray the gacha treated him kindly.
"…Confirm draw."
[Gacha in progress. Please wait…]
Peter watched as the roulette icon cycled rapidly through different rewards—
Pokémon Eggs, held items, special items, Berries, training equipment…
He even spotted Mega Stones and Z-Crystals flash by.
"Don't ask for much," Peter muttered frantically.
"Just give me a perfect-talent Pokémon Egg!
A Legendary would be ideal!
Mythical is acceptable!
Pseudo-legendary works too!"
[Ding! Gacha complete.]
[Obtained: Basic Pokéblock Crafting Blueprint]
…
Basic Pokéblock Crafting Blueprint
Use to acquire the skill of crafting Pokéblocks.
Grants a 100% success rate when crafting basic-grade Pokéblocks.
"…."
Peter stared blankly at the parchment scroll in his hands.
No Legendary.
No Mythical.
No starter.
He didn't even get a normal Pokémon Egg.
"…Still, this should be able to make money, right?"
Searching his memories, Peter couldn't recall exact prices for Pokéblocks.
To ordinary civilians, they were practically luxury goods—no wonder his former, lower-class self had never encountered them.
Even in the anime, Ash and his friends rarely used them, relying mostly on standard Pokémon food.
Peter clapped his hands together.
The blueprint vanished, and a flood of knowledge poured into his mind.
Berry ratios.
Supplementary ingredients like honey, flower petals, and stream water.
Usage of Berry blenders.
"…So that's how it works."
Pokéblocks were essentially highly compressed energy crystals.
Compared to simple mixed food, they were far easier for Pokémon to digest and absorb.
But mixing strength, frequency, and material ratios all directly affected quality.
Low-quality cubes with unstable energy—or worse, conflicting energy—were inferior to ordinary food.
Which was exactly why Pokéblocks were so valuable.
"Didn't even become a Trainer yet," Peter sighed,
"and I already unlocked a Breeder skill tree…"
Might be worth heading into the city later to test the waters.
The sunset burned red across the horizon.
Only when hunger hit did Peter realize he hadn't eaten dinner.
When he entered the dining hall, Whitney had already set the table.
Eight full dishes.
Omurice.
Steak Tagliata.
Miltank Cheese Pizza.
Whirlpool Sushi.
Mini Ice Parfaits…
Peter blinked.
"Is today some special occasion? Why so much food?"
Whitney wiped the sweat from her forehead and smiled softly.
"Nope… just felt happy today, I guess."
Peter looked at her smile.
His instincts screamed that something was off.
Very off.
But Whitney… couldn't possibly have bad intentions, right?
Just look at that chest—justice written in bold letters.
Too hungry to think further, Peter lunged forward, grabbing Omurice and stuffing it into his mouth, followed by steak, pizza, and more.
Only after wolfing down half the table did he realize—
Whitney was just sitting there quietly, watching him, not touching her chopsticks.
"…Why aren't you eating?" he asked curiously.