"Hmm…" It was already five o'clock in the afternoon when John woke up from his bed, roused by five Zigzagoons licking his face. Torchic chirped happily beside him.
He got up, stretched, and felt refreshed.
"It's good to be young!" John thought, relishing the lack of stiffness he often associated with his nearly forty-year-old body in his previous life. Back then, waking up after a late night would have left him with a splitting headache and a sore back, all while battling the aftereffects of poor sleep.
After washing his face, he took a deep breath.
'Ahem, first thing's first: dinner for the Zigzagoons and Torchic.' He planned to use the Oran Berries he had gathered the day before. They deserved a good meal after their training. Tomorrow morning, he'd visit the breeder to get a customized Pokémon recipe for them.
John had started hunting for Ralts at 3 a.m. and had fought nearly 300 battles by 7 a.m., feeling exhilarated by his success.
In those four hours, he had encountered a total of 13 Ralts, an impressive feat given their low appearance rate of only 4 or 5%. Yet, despite his efforts, none of the Ralts met his high standards. All thirteen were sent to the Pokémon Center, teleported to Professor Birch, who was taking care of them in Littleroot Town.
"Selling a Ralts in a breeding house would fetch at least one million Pokedollars," he mused, unwilling to release any that didn't meet his criteria. In Dragonia, selling Pokémon without a professional qualification certificate was illegal, which prompted John to consider obtaining a high-level Pokémon breeder's certificate. Opening a breeding center to sell rare and powerful Pokémon like Ralts and Abra seemed more lucrative than his current gig as a garbage collector.
"No, I can't lower the requirements," John decided firmly. He wanted to continue hunting for a Ralts with high Individual Values (IVs). "After all, I need it to become a main force in my team. If I settle for less now, I'll only regret it later."
At least 4 IVs or more.
While the Ralts hunt wasn't yielding results, his garbage collection team had amassed nearly 200 items throughout those battles.
He kept fifty ordinary Poké Balls, ten Great Balls, twenty Potions, ten Antidotes, and ten Paralyze Heals to sell at the store.
With his bank card balance now at 15,547.5 Pokedollars, John felt pleased.
Fifteen thousand in just four hours! That's with nearly a hundred items left behind. If he had collected everything, his income would have doubled.
"Picking up trash really pays off!"
Each Pokémon received three Oran Berries and some milk from the fridge for dinner. After preparing their meal, John made himself a potato brisket rice, savoring every bite.
After dinner, he returned the Pokémon to their Poké Balls and opened his console station, ready to hunt for Ralts while listening to some music.
Just as he was about to turn on his gameboy, a loud knock echoed through the door.
"Boom!"
"John! Are you at home?!"
"John!"
"Boom!"
The voice belonged to a man who sounded determined to break down the door if necessary.
John quickly set aside his gameboy, got up, and opened the door.
A rugged man stood outside, and when he spotted John, he rushed in as if he hadn't seen him in ages. "John, you can't just sit here!"
Without hesitation, John replied, "Come on! I haven't even had the chance to enjoy the day yet; what do you mean, I can't sit?"
The man was Mark, John's junior from school and one of his few close friends. They had been classmates since elementary school and continued to stay in touch throughout high school.
"Why didn't you answer my calls? I thought you were having a hard time getting back on the trainer path," Mark said, concern etched on his face.
"Really?" John checked his phone and saw more than a dozen missed calls, all from Mark. The calls had started coming in around ten in the morning and continued until three in the afternoon.
"Oh, I was gaming all night and didn't fall asleep until 7 a.m. I just woke up and haven't had a chance to look at my phone." John let Mark in, relieved to see that his friend wasn't in distress.
Once assured that John was alright, Mark relaxed. "I suggested yesterday that you should reconsider your situation. I'm going to take you to catch a Poliwag near Cloud Wetland. Even if you're not ready to become a professional trainer, having one on hand could help you later."
Cloud Wetland was an E-class forested area just outside Serenity City.
In this world, Pokémon habitats were rated for danger, with S being the highest and E the lowest. Cloud Wetland had the least Pokémon density, featuring a variety of water, grass, and Flying-types, including many rare Pokémon. It was a popular spot for novice trainers.
John neither refused nor agreed but rubbed his chin, contemplating the proposal.
Seeing John's hesitation, Mark pressed on. "If you're worried about raising a Poliwag, you could start with a Magikarp. Just feed it some leftovers, and one day it might evolve into a Gyarados."
John rolled his eyes at the suggestion. "Raising a Magikarp on leftovers? Sure, when it evolves into a Gyarados, it might just decide to swallow me whole instead of listening to me."
"Alright, let's go to Cloud Wetland tomorrow to check it out," John said, though his real interest lay in confirming a theory he had.