Freelance Pokémon.
A drifting class that lived on the fringes of human society without ever being caught by humans.
Because their bodies were closer to human shape, they could hang around places like docks and ports on the edge of civilization without seeming too out of place.
Every day, these Pokémon did hard labor at the harbor, basically serving as dirt-cheap muscle, and every day they paid a cut of their earnings to the humans who managed the docks.
The people running the port couldn't be bothered to catch them anyway. Poké Balls were consumable items, and once you caught these Pokémon, you had to feed them and take care of them. It was easier to just leave them wild and call it a day.
Once, someone had written a paper called On the Current Status of Freelance Pokémon and Their Social Welfare Issues, taking a deep dive into the social relationship between humans and Pokémon.
The conclusion was that humans and some Pokémon were capable of genuine empathy, and could even develop social relationships on equal footing. Those Pokémon, the paper argued, should be granted certain human rights and given basic social protections.
The paper caused a brief stir when it was published.
Not long after, it vanished from the internet.
Then the researcher who wrote it also vanished during a field survey...
Looking at these people on society's margins, Asher couldn't help getting ideas.
Quite a few of them were Fighting-types. Maybe with the right training, one of them could help him smash Rock-types to pieces.
While Asher wandered around the harbor, a voice suddenly came from behind him.
"Young man, are you looking for hired help?"
Asher turned and saw a white-haired...
Well, actually, white-browed, sturdy old bald man walking over.
The old man's look was unforgettable. He wore an old sailor's outfit, and a Wingull circled overhead.
With a slight sense of intuition, Asher could tell the bond between the old man and that Wingull was extremely close.
"Rotom... scanning information..."
"Target: kind old grandpa."
"Relationship: red-capped kid in need of help."
"Advice: a helpful old man. You can ask him for assistance!"
Seeing that, Asher quickly asked, "Uh... and you are?"
The old man smiled faintly. "Just call me Mr. Briney. I'm watching over this dock for someone, though honestly it doesn't need much managing. If you need something, just ask."
Hearing that, Asher hurriedly said, "Uh, it's like this. I'm a trainer, and I'm looking for a Pokémon that's good at fighting. Do you have any thoughts?"
Mr. Briney laughed and pointed toward a figure in the distance. "Hahaha, see that guy hauling sacks over there? He might just be the fighting expert you're looking for!"
Asher looked in the direction he was pointing and saw a humanoid Pokémon with purple skin working hard to move cargo.
The moment he saw that figure, Asher jolted.
Wait, wasn't that the Pokémon that had helped carry his luggage before?
He hadn't expected a coincidence like this. After going in a full circle, he had somehow ended up back with the same Pokémon again.
Asher couldn't help becoming interested. "It's a skilled fighter? Did it teach itself?"
Mr. Briney smiled and shook his head. "Ha, not a chance. There's no such thing as teaching yourself from scratch. Don't overestimate these Pokémon. That kid used to have a trainer, in a manner of speaking, and went through some actual fight training. It's just that..."
The moment the tone shifted, Asher already felt like he knew where this story was going.
"I get it... was it abandoned because its potential was too poor?"
Just when Asher thought he'd run into the same setup as with Flare all over again, Mr. Briney sighed and shook his head.
"That's not it. The kid's actually pretty good with its fists. It's just that its former trainer wasn't a real trainer. He was an underground boxer. The two of them got along well enough, so they trained together."
"But one day, the man just disappeared. Never came back after that..."
Asher's expression stiffened.
So it had gone through something like that.
After a moment, Asher rubbed his nose and asked, "If it's that capable, why hasn't another trainer caught it?"
Mr. Briney burst out laughing. "Hahaha, caught it for what? It's not good-looking, its species potential is low, and even if it recommended itself to trainers, nobody would want it!"
"To trainers, Pokémon like that are everywhere, same as stray dogs on the roadside. They don't even notice them."
A Tyrogue like that could practically be called one of the least useful Pokémon out there.
Its stats across the board were low, it had no Element Affinity at all, and even its appearance wasn't exactly impressive.
Fighting-type Pokémon sounded fierce on paper, but they were beings like humans, creatures without Element Affinity.
Sure, this thing stood over half a person tall, but in terms of species strength, once you counted past the weakest bugs at the bottom of the food chain, it would be next in line.
You could practically say it was just a sturdier human.
But if they didn't have elemental talent, why were Fighting-type Pokémon still so effective against Rock-types?
Was it really just because their technique was that refined?
Asher found the whole thing pretty confusing.
While he was talking with Mr. Briney, that Pokémon suddenly disappeared from the harbor.
Asher hurriedly asked, puzzled, "Hey, Mr. Briney, where did it go?"
Mr. Briney shook his head and pointed in a certain direction. "Probably went there. Sigh... after all these years, it still hasn't managed to move on from that place..."
...
Underground boxing ring.
A crowd watching the illegal fights howled and roared.
"Damn! Nice! That punch was brutal!"
"Hell! I must've been blind to bet on you, you blue-skinned pig!"
The fighters in the ring weren't humans.
They were Pokémon.
This savage, primitive spectacle, fists slamming into flesh, was exactly what drove the audience below into a frenzy.
All the competitors were Fighting-type Pokémon. There were no flashy elemental powers here, just the raw thrill of heavy punches landing on solid bodies.
These illegal matches were usually put together by boxing coaches without trainer licenses teaming up with freelance Pokémon to make fast cash.
And the people who came to watch were mostly the working poor from the outer slums, laborers who had moved in from the countryside looking for work.
Compared to official Gym matches, both the fighters on the stage and the crowd below were considered low-class.
The rules of Pokémon underground boxing were simple: no Poké Balls, mostly because nobody could afford them, and no elemental powers.
Just like human boxing, pure and simple. The coach could only give commands with his voice.
After one round ended, a thin figure stepped into the ring.
A commotion immediately rose from the audience.
"Hey, it's our League Champion! Back to get beat up again?"
"Oh ho, hurry up! Let's get today's show started already!"
In an instant, the whole arena filled with cheerful anticipation.
Soon the match began. Tyrogue's footwork and punches were incredibly quick, and it looked well-trained.
But the level gap was too big. It couldn't deal meaningful damage to the Machoke on the other side, and several bursts of fast punches accomplished nothing.
Meanwhile, Machoke's heavy blows were sparse, but every time one landed on Tyrogue, it hit like a bomb.
Watching Tyrogue get battered, fall, and struggle back up again, a red-capped young man asked the person beside him in confusion, "Why do you all call it the League Champion?"
Hearing the question from this red-capped kid, a bald, overly helpful man beside him grinned viciously.
"Hah, first time around here, huh? You don't know the famous one? Its old trainer used to tell it he'd take it to the League Conference and make it the League Champion! This dumb little guy's kept believing it to this day. Still waiting for his trainer to come back."
Asher shuddered.
He hadn't expected the other side to have such an enormous dream.
League Champion...
That was no joke.
Every year, so many people took part in the Great Pilgrimage, but most of their goal was simply to earn eight Gym Badges, clear the Great Pilgrimage, and become professional trainers.
And even for that basic goal, fewer than one in ten of the participants actually succeeded.
Only that tiny fraction even earned the right to compete for the League Conference championship.
The League Conference was the second half of the Great Pilgrimage.
And because that second half was like a completely different world compared to the first, people called it... the New World.
Only after passing through the baptism of the New World could someone become a real professional trainer.
And the intensity of the League Conference was enough to make countless people back down in fear.
Once you entered the New World, even a trainer as strong as Roxanne was nothing more than a first-round loser.
Looking at the Tyrogue that refused to give up, Asher couldn't help sighing.
"It really did have a dream with its trainer. Maybe it's only kept going day after day because it's still clinging to that dream."
Someone beside him immediately burst out laughing.
"The League Conference? Hahaha, and you actually believe that? That was just nonsense. It was nothing more than a dumb tool used to fight underground matches and win prize money. Use your brain. Something that low-end was never getting on a stage like that."
Someone else chimed in.
"Yeah, the guy pocketed a few paydays and vanished! Probably got scared the truth would come out and the Pokémon would come after him. Real slippery bastard!"
"What? He actually... did that?!"
Asher couldn't help growing angry.
He hadn't expected someone to trick a Pokémon that way.
It was exactly like those scummy bosses who sold employees a dream, going on about vision and future prospects when really all they were doing was burning through people's lives to make quick money.
Like his old boss.
Talking about how the new project was meant to improve communication between people, help them understand one another on a deeper level, and promote harmony for all humanity.
And in the end, it turned out to be a hookup app.
If that stupid thing hadn't worked him into the ground with endless overtime, Asher never would've been transported into the Pokémon world...
What Asher didn't know, however, was that a Rotom from another world had taken every word his boss said at face value...
And from that alone, you could already tell that on the road ahead, Asher would one day run into unspeakable horrors and disasters crashing down on him like tidal waves.
While Asher was still filled with righteous fury, someone beside him kept laughing.
"Some things are fixed from birth! Some people are born to be trainers, and some are only fit to work factory jobs!"
"Starter Pokémon are born to shine on the big stage. As for trash like Tyrogue, even using it in underground boxing is embarrassing!"
Hearing that, Asher felt a little uncomfortable.
Who said starter Pokémon were born to shine?
Weren't there also cases like Flare, a complete... uh, no, a hard-working late bloomer?
Right then, a voice rang out from the ring with enough force to shake the room.
"KO! The winner is Machoke, Mr. Mighty! Let's hear it for him!"
On the stage, a blue-skinned brute wearing a golden belt raised one thigh-thick arm and showed off his immense strength.
Meanwhile, Tyrogue was sprawled on the ground like an old sack, twitching.
The crowd saw that and broke into delighted laughter.
"Hahahahaha! The idiot's down again!"
"The only thing this moron's good at is taking a beating!"
"Hey, go easy on him! If you kill him, we won't have anything to laugh at later!"
Amid all the noisy laughter, Tyrogue slowly pulled itself up from the ground and staggered out of the ring...
Asher watched, and something in him seemed to settle.
...
Inside a shabby shack, several tattered League Conference posters hung on the wall.
Tyrogue was wrapping its wounds with bandages, winding them slowly and carefully, completely focused, as though it hadn't noticed the figure that had appeared behind it at all.
Asher stood there in silence, staring at the posters on the wall.
That had once been their goal.
He spoke softly to himself.
"A pretty ambitious dream. But it doesn't look like something one person can achieve alone..."
Tyrogue kept wrapping its wounds, silent as ever.
Asher glanced at the crates scattered on the floor.
Inside were cheap, low-nutrition foods that could never help a Pokémon gain levels effectively.
"This stuff can't provide enough nutrition. It'd be hard for a Pokémon to grow properly on it..."
Tyrogue kept winding the bandages without saying a word.
Picking up the training plan on the table, Asher saw that even though the man had been gone for a long time, this Tyrogue still followed the program day after day.
After setting the paper back down, Asher said slowly, "Pretty strict routine. But without a trainer working together with you, it's all just wasted effort..."
None of those words affected Tyrogue.
It had grown used to hearing other people dismiss it.
Its heart had long since turned numb and stubborn, hard as stone.
Then, suddenly, Asher yanked the cap off his head and shouted, "I'm a trainer, and I'm looking for a Pokémon that can help me become the League Champion!"
?!
At that moment, the bandage in Tyrogue's hands stopped moving, and it whipped its head around.
Asher pulled out his trainer license and pointed at Tyrogue.
"And I think I've already found it!"
In an instant, a blazing fighting spirit burst into Tyrogue's eyes.
The past flared back up like scattered stardust.
"Kid, I've been watching you for a while. Carrying sacks is a waste of your talent. Come box with me. You know that? A person's gotta have a dream!"
"Maybe all we can do now is fight in underground matches, but remember this: one day we're going to stand on the stage of the League Conference. I don't believe birth decides everything. Someday, we're going to make those League trainers see what our fists can do!"
"Because you spread improper rhetoric, publicly denied the superior bloodline of the League nobles, and insulted the great pioneers of the Pokémon League, you have seriously violated League law. You are coming with us."
"Kid, don't give up on your dream. Someday, someone will recognize your talent! Don't wait for me anymore. If someone does recognize your talent, go with him."
Some things didn't need words at all.
A single look.
One glance.
That was enough to convey everything.
At that moment, a fierce resonance collided in both of their hearts.
That thing was...
dreams.
The freest thing in the world.
"Rotom! A Resonance has formed between you! Your relationship has risen to [Rarely Found Kindred Spirits]!"
"Balu!"
Tyrogue thrust out its fist toward Asher.
Grinning, Asher met it with his own.
"Good! Your will is harder than rock! Your talent shines brighter than gold! It sparkles like a diamond! So from now on, I'm calling you Diamond! For the sake of our dream of becoming champions, let's work together!"
Their fists met, and so did their hearts.
He had won over his second Pokémon!