It had been a week since I transmigrated into the Pokémon world, finding myself in the body of a young orphan named Orion. Orion was just six years old, living with an elderly couple who had adopted him and raised him on the outskirts of Viridian City. The previous owner of this body had died after a brutal encounter with a local thug. The thug had beaten him severely after an accidental bump, unaware that his blows would be fatal. When he left, he hadn't realized that Orion lay lifeless—until I took over.
For reasons unknown, my body was healed, though my clothes were still battered, stained with dirt and blood. Thankfully, the memories of the previous Orion had fully merged with mine, sparing me the confusion many transmigrators face. I knew this world, these people, and even the habits of the kind couple who had given me a home.
When I finally made it back, the sun was already setting, casting long shadows over the fields around their small cottage. The elderly couple had been waiting anxiously, worried sick after I'd disappeared for nearly six hours. Seeing me, they let out sighs of relief, their faces etched with concern and love. But their relief quickly turned to worry as they noticed the torn, blood-streaked state of my clothes.
Without hesitation, they rushed over, checking me for any injuries. After confirming that I was unharmed, they began questioning me about the blood on my clothes. Thinking quickly, I lied, telling them it was from an injured person I had found and tried to help. They exchanged worried glances but seemed to accept my story, and we made our way home.
A week has passed since then, giving me time to adjust to this world—a place far harsher than the family-friendly franchise I used to watch on TV. Here, Pokémon were genuinely dangerous, and survival required caution and skill. The death rate for trainers and anyone involved in Pokémon-related professions was alarmingly high in every region, a statistic often ignored in the idealized versions I once knew.
In this world, even owning a Pokémon was a privilege that few ordinary people could afford. Maintaining a Pokémon required considerable resources, not to mention the cost of obtaining one with decent potential. Here, pokémon weren't freely given to aspiring trainers, except to those with exceptional academic achievements. You either risked capturing one in the wild, facing all the inherent dangers, or bought one from the Market. Market pokémon were partially trained to be docile and follow commands, but they came at a steep price and still required skill to handle effectively.
Each Pokémon had its own inherent potential and talent, making it unrealistic to assume that every Pokémon could reach champion level. To help trainers assess their Pokémon, the Alliance had provided devices in each Pokémon Center to measure a Pokémon's potential and talent. However, using these devices came with a fee, one that I had yet to learn but expected to be substantial.
Most Pokémon sellers didn't bother testing the potential of the Pokémon they sold. So, while rare, there was a slim chance a buyer could end up with a Pokémon of higher potential than expected. But for most people, buying Pokémon from the Market was a gamble, with only the lucky ones occasionally landing a prize.
Now that I had a basic understanding of this world, I couldn't help but feel a mix of fear and excitement. This wasn't the safe, predictable Pokémon journey I'd once imagined; here, every step into the wild held real risks, and only the strongest—or the smartest—survived.
My grandfather, Mat, had already mentioned his plan to get me admitted to the Kanto Trainer Academy next year. It was a rigorous place, where only the best could hope to rise to the top. If, by some chance, I managed to reach the top three in my class, I'd be granted a royal starter from the Kanto Region—a Pokémon with exceptional lineage—and ongoing support from the Alliance. It was a rare opportunity, one that could give me a significant advantage in this harsh world.
Now that I've grasped the basics of this world, it's time to talk about my advantage—my golden-finger. I awakened it the day after I transmigrated, and it's a unique ability with incredible functions:
– – –
[Eternal Bond]
— Unbreakable Connection: Grants the ability to befriend and deeply understand any Pokémon, forming an immediate bond.
— Limitless Training: Allows me to train my Pokémon to their absolute peak potential or beyond, unrestricted by their natural talent, affinity, or prior experience.
— Accelerated Growth: Boosts the growth and development rate of my Pokémon by a factor of 10, making them reach new levels swiftly.
— Shared Empowerment: Each bonded Pokémon provides me with incremental, permanent boosts to my physical, mental, and spiritual aspects, strengthening me as I strengthen them.
— Power Sharing: I can extend this ability to others, with its effectiveness depending on the trust, affection, and loyalty between us. I can also retract it whenever needed.
— Side Effect Immunity: This power comes with no negative side effects, ensuring safe and stable use for both me and my Pokémon.
– – –
Now that I had my golden-finger—Eternal Bond—I felt a growing sense of determination. This ability, though mysterious in origin, was the key to my success in this world. While most people struggled with their Pokémon's development and potential, I would have an advantage unlike anyone else. The more I bonded with Pokémon, the stronger I would become—not just as a trainer, but as a person. This was a gift I couldn't waste.
The Kanto Trainer Academy was just a year away. That meant I had only one year to prepare—one year to make my mark, to stand out and prove my worth. My grandfather Mat's plan for me to attend the academy wasn't just a way for me to gain an education; it was my ticket to greatness. If I managed to earn a royal starter and gain the Alliance's backing, I could secure my place among the elite.
The thought of the royal starter filled me with excitement. In a world where potential and talent were everything, getting my hands on a Pokémon of such caliber could change everything for me. But I couldn't afford to rely solely on luck. I needed to prepare, to learn everything I could about Pokémon and the world I had been thrust into.
I spent the next week absorbing as much as I could about the Pokémon world. Mat, though an old man now, had been a skilled trainer in his youth. He was always ready to share his knowledge, teaching me about the basics of Pokémon care, the different types of moves and abilities, and the most effective training strategies. But despite all the lessons, I couldn't ignore the harsh realities of this world. Pokémon battles weren't just about strategy and tactics; they were about survival. Trainers who weren't strong enough, who couldn't command their Pokémon properly, often ended up injured—or worse.
One day, while Mat was out in the fields tending to his crops, I took a walk into Viridian City. There, I visited the Pokémon Center, curious to see the devices that measured a Pokémon's potential. I had learned that these devices were expensive to use, and most trainers didn't bother with them unless they were serious about their Pokémon's future. But with my ability to train Pokémon beyond their natural potential, I didn't need to worry about their potential being limited by their genetics. Still, I wanted to see for myself how the system worked.
The Pokémon Center was a bustling place, full of trainers and their Pokémon. I approached the counter and asked to use the potential measuring device. The Nurse Joy behind the counter gave me a skeptical look but agreed, asking for a small fee. I handed her the money, grateful that I had been saving up for this moment.
After a few minutes, the device powered up, and a screen lit up with various stats and numbers. It was similar to the information I'd seen in the Pokémon games I used to play, but far more detailed. As I watched the results, my mind raced with possibilities. This was a tool that could help trainers determine which Pokémon had the best potential for growth. But for me, it was unnecessary. With Eternal Bond, I didn't need to rely on these devices to tell me what a Pokémon could become.
I couldn't help but smile to myself. In a world where most trainers struggled to make sense of their Pokémon's potential, I would have the power to unlock their true capabilities. This was my edge, the one thing that would give me the upper hand over everyone else.
As I left the Pokémon Center, my thoughts drifted back to the Kanto Trainer Academy. I was still a year away from entering, but I could already feel the pressure mounting. I needed to make the most of my time, to train, to learn, and to form bonds with Pokémon that would help me rise to the top.
It was clear to me now: I couldn't afford to waste any time. My future depended on how well I could master the use of Eternal Bond and build a team of powerful Pokémon. I wasn't just training for the academy; I was training for something far greater.
I had a goal now: I would become a Pokémon Trainer not just because I wanted adventure or excitement, but because I was determined to be the best. I would rise above the ordinary trainers, earning my place among the top of the Kanto region and then in the whole world.
With that in mind, I returned home, ready to begin my training. There was still much to learn, and I had a long road ahead of me. But with my ability and the support of Mat and the elderly couple who had adopted me, I knew I had the potential to succeed. The future was waiting for me, and I wasn't about to let it slip away.
Little did I know, the challenges ahead would be far more complex and dangerous than anything I had imagined. But I was ready. Eternal Bond would guide me, and with it, I would shape my destiny.