"What a pity. No Scyther."
Gary pocketed Shiny Caterpie's Poké Ball and sighed.
Though, when he thought about it more carefully, he wasn't sure whether to call it bad luck or good.
Encountering a Shiny Pokémon was statistically far rarer than running into a wild Scyther. In pure terms of probability, today had gone very well. He just hadn't gotten the Pokémon he'd specifically been looking for.
I'll stay in the forest for a couple more days.
Gary figured two more days of searching should give him a reasonable shot at finding either Scyther or Pinsir. Sabrina, the Saffron City Gym Leader, was a Psychic specialist—and Bug-types were one of the few reliable counters to Psychic Pokémon. Ghost-types were another option, but Ghost Pokémon were notoriously difficult to find, and even harder to capture at his current level.
Training a Bug-type himself was simply the more practical path.
Gary turned around to head back.
The moment he did, he came face to face with someone standing directly behind him.
Before he could even register who it was, a glint of light flashed toward his face.
Gary's body reacted on instinct—he ducked aside and immediately caught the attacker's wrist with his opposite hand, twisting sharply.
"Ah! That hurts! Let go!"
A pained yelp rang out through the forest.
Gary released the grip and straightened up, getting a proper look at the other person for the first time.
A boy, roughly his own age. He wore a vaguely samurai-inspired outfit and carried what appeared to be a short sword—now hanging uselessly from his wrist.
"Who are you?" Gary asked, his tone flat and unfriendly. "And why are you attacking me?"
"My name is Samurai," the boy said, rubbing his wrist with an indignant expression. "I live in the Viridian Forest. I wasn't trying to attack you. I just wanted to know if you were a Trainer from Pallet Town."
Gary stared at him.
This is the Samurai kid.
He remembered now. In the original timeline, this boy had lived alone in Viridian Forest and had developed an obsession with challenging Trainers from Pallet Town, after being beaten by four rookies from there—Orange and Yellow among them.
"You approached me with a sword just to ask that?" Gary said.
"The blade is made of rubber," Samurai said defensively. He snapped the blade dramatically to demonstrate. Sure enough, it bent like rubber—though the metallic silver paint on the surface was convincing enough to be alarming at a glance. "It couldn't hurt anyone."
"That doesn't make it any less rude," Gary said.
Samurai paused, then lowered his head slightly.
"You're right. I apologize."
Gary blinked. He hadn't expected the boy to admit fault so readily.
He's not a bad kid. Just odd.
"Fine," Gary said, letting it go. "Why are you looking for Trainers from Pallet Town specifically?"
"I was defeated by two rookies from Pallet Town," Samurai said, his voice sharpening with renewed irritation. "I couldn't accept it. So I want to beat someone from Pallet Town to make up for it."
Gary stared.
That logic makes absolutely no sense.
Orange and Yellow were the ones who defeated him. Why would beating a completely different Trainer from the same town settle anything?
He decided not to bother pointing that out.
"I'm from Pallet Town," Gary said simply.
Samurai's eyes lit up. "Perfect. Then let's have a Pokémon battle!"
"And why would I agree to that?" Gary asked.
Samurai blinked, clearly thrown off. He had never been turned down before. Every other Trainer he'd approached had either accepted immediately or run away.
"Why? Are you scared?"
"No," Gary said patiently. "But Pokémon battles between Trainers are essentially wagers. I don't fight without something at stake."
"What?! You want money?" Samurai looked genuinely baffled.
It wasn't unusual for experienced Trainers to battle for prize money—but it was practically unheard of among rookies, who rarely carried enough to make it meaningful.
Samurai had only been a Trainer for less than two weeks. He barely had enough money for food.
"Not necessarily money," Gary said. "If you can offer me something that interests me, that's fine too. And if you somehow manage to beat me, I'll pay you fifty thousand Poké Dollar."
Samurai's jaw dropped.
"Fifty thousand—?!"
He had never seen that much money in his life. The figure was staggering.
But even as the temptation flared, something in Samurai held back. Gary could casually offer fifty thousand, which meant whatever Gary wanted in return needed to be worth at least that much.
"I don't have anything valuable," Samurai said, deflating slightly.
"I'm not asking for money or possessions," Gary said. He tilted his head. "You live in this forest full-time. You know its layout, the territories, the strong Pokémon."
Samurai nodded slowly, not sure where this was going.
Wild Pokémon were territorial. The stronger the Pokémon, the more strictly it maintained its range—and it rarely wandered. Scyther, in particular, was dominant in the Viridian Forest. Despite having a Flying typing, it almost never actually flew. It stayed within a fixed territory and patrolled it consistently.
Someone who lived permanently in the forest would know exactly where those territories were.
"Do you know where the Scyther in this forest is?" Gary asked.
Samurai froze.
"Scyther?!" He stared at Gary, wide-eyed. "You're planning to capture it?!"
"Yes. So here's the deal: if you can beat me in battle, you get fifty thousand Poké Dollar. If you lose, you take me to wherever Scyther is—and I'll pay you twenty thousand as a guide fee regardless."
Samurai stood very still for a long moment.
He had challenged dozens of Trainers. Not once had losing a battle come with any reward attached.
"There's a Scyther I know of," he said slowly. "It's a bit deep into the forest though. Two hours on foot, at minimum."
"Then we have a deal," Gary said, wasting no further time. "Let's go, Squirtle."
"Squirtle!"
Squirtle trotted forward eagerly. It had just finished the Caterpie battle and hadn't even properly warmed up—it was brimming with leftover energy.
"Go—Pinsir!" Samurai threw his Poké Ball without further ceremony.
A brown, upright Pinsir materialized in the clearing. Its massive horns spread wide as it planted its feet, staring down Squirtle with cold bug eyes.
Gary activated the Eye of Insight.
[Pinsir ♂ — Level 8 — Normal-tier]
Gary almost sighed.
Normal potential? On a Pinsir?
He didn't understand it. High base stat Pokémon almost always had above-average individual potential—it was one of their natural advantages over weaker species. Starter Pokémon, for instance, almost never produced individuals below Elite-tier.
Pinsir had a base stat total of 500. By every reasonable expectation, its offspring should start at a decent potential floor.
And yet.
Gary took a closer look at the Pinsir's size. It was noticeably smaller than a typical specimen—barely half the usual height. This one had clearly only hatched recently. It was young, underdeveloped, and its potential reflected that.
In the original timeline, this same Pinsir had actually struggled against Ash's Metapod—and had even broken one of its own horns trying to clamp the hardened chrysalis.
"I'll attack first!" Samurai declared, pointing forward. "Pinsir—Tackle!"