The Beginning of the Story

In the rain.

Xia Yan walked out of the alley, wearing ill-fitting clothes and shoes, half a piece of bread clenched between his teeth, with a tiny earth-yellow Pokémon perched on his shoulder.

Weedle's pair of mung-bean-sized eyes stared at the bread in his mouth. It quietly swallowed its saliva but did not dare show any desire for it.

Xia Yan's ruthlessness when he had commanded it earlier, along with his unquestionable manner, had frightened it somewhat.

As if sensing its thoughts, Xia Yan took down the bread, tore off a piece, and held it before the Weedle on his shoulder.

"Woo."

Weedle gave a soft cry and blinked its little eyes, seemingly asking, "Is this for me?"

Xia Yan gently stroked its back. The seemingly smooth shell had fine fuzz that was difficult to notice. Weedle narrowed its eyes, clearly enjoying it.

"Eat. You did very well just now," Xia Yan praised softly.

With food in his stomach, the cramping pain finally eased, and strength gradually returned to his limbs.

"Woo!"

Hearing that, Weedle happily curved its eyes into crescents. It took the bread with the spike on its tail and began nibbling at it on his shoulder.

Weedle was a Bug-type Pokémon. It could satisfy its needs by eating leaves alone.

But if that was all it ate, this Weedle's potential would not be much higher than the ordinary Beedrill in the forest.

Energy Cubes and Pokémon food were naturally the best choices, but Xia Yan did not have that kind of money. This piece of bread was the most valuable thing he owned.

People said true affection was not about how much someone could give when they were at their richest, but whether they would give you half when they only had one piece of bread left.

Weedle, which had only just met Xia Yan, had not held a very good impression of him.

But at that moment, it felt Xia Yan's sincerity.

As it ate the bread, it gently rubbed against his neck to show goodwill.

Pokémon were simple creatures. Though they possessed great power, their thoughts were not complicated. They knew very clearly who treated them well and who did not.

At least for now, Weedle had already forgotten how fierce Xia Yan had been toward it before.

Feeling the cool touch against his neck, Xia Yan smiled.

He stuffed the remaining bread into his mouth in one bite, not even letting a single crumb on his fingertips go to waste.

He quickly adapted to his current identity.

Perhaps it was because his memories had merged so quickly.

He pulled out a handful of money from his pocket. He had "borrowed" it from Scarface and his two lackeys.

Crumpled banknotes and a few scattered coins.

There was not much in total, only thirty-three dollars.

Yet it was the most money he had ever held in his life.

But for his current situation, for raising a Pokémon, it was still far from enough.

There were few people on the rain-soaked streets.

Xia Yan walked out of the bustling city center and arrived at a dilapidated house on the edge of the city.

The house was piled with clutter, with a large hole in the roof. Plenty of dry straw was stacked in one corner. This had once been Xia Yan's shelter.

Old and messy.

But still better than getting drenched in the rain.

He started a fire.

He sat quietly before the campfire, letting the flames bring a trace of warmth to his cold body while drying his clothes.

Weedle, on the other hand, seemed very happy.

It crawled all over the ground.

It cautiously approached the flames, curious about what the red, warm thing was. It moved its tail closer and got burned, pouting in grievance.

But it quickly forgot about it.

It scurried beneath the hole in the roof. Rainwater gathered in the cracks inside the house, and Weedle stretched out its little tongue to lick the cold rainwater, shivering.

Then, as if it had thought of something, it put its tail into the rainwater.

The coolness eased the faint burning pain in its tail, and it narrowed its eyes in comfort.

"Woo," it moaned.

After that, it ran to a pile of stones, proudly like a warrior who had scaled a towering peak. Then it ran back to Xia Yan's side, sniffed the straw on the ground, picked up a strand, and lightly bit it. It certainly did not taste good, so it quickly spat it out.

Like a curious child, the newly born Pokémon was fascinated by everything in the dilapidated room.

Eventually, exhausted from playing, it found a comfortable spot in Xia Yan's arms, curled up, and fell soundly asleep.

Looking at the exhausted Weedle, Xia Yan smiled helplessly.

He rolled up a corner of his clothes and gently covered it.

Weedle unconsciously wriggled, burying itself completely in the warm clothes. Its closed eyes curved into an arc.

Xia Yan continued watching the dancing campfire.

Firelight flickered in his eyes.

He was thinking.

How could he survive in this world? How could he make use of his own advantages?

Return to his original world?

If he had the chance, he would consider it. But since he did not, there was no point wasting energy on it.

He lowered his head and glanced at the quiet Weedle again.

A phrase that Pokémon enthusiasts from his previous life loved to say flashed through his mind.

There were no useless Pokémon, only useless Pokémon Trainers.

Well said. That was why I'd choose the Starter Trio at the beginning.

Of course, that was assuming there was a choice.

It might have been a joke, but it also proved that Pokémon truly held far too many possibilities.

A Pokémon like Weedle had low Base Stats, few moves, and weak combat ability. It was even inferior to its close relative, Caterpie, which at least had the fantasy of evolving into Rayquaza.

But that did not mean it had no potential for growth.

Weedle's final evolution, Beedrill, also had its representative examples.

Giovanni, Team Rocket's leader, had a Beedrill that was a classic example of the upper limit of that species.

Of course, it had only been forged through the accumulation of countless resources.

Beating up Elite Four members and Champions was standard procedure.

Moreover, Beedrill could undergo Mega Evolution, which meant that this species had an even higher potential ceiling.

But a Pokémon's potential was one thing, while a Pokémon Trainer's methods of raising it were another.

Raising a Pokémon, especially one like Weedle that started from such a low point, to reach the same height as other Pokémon required enormous resources and the correct methods.

Xia Yan currently had neither.

It would not be accurate to say he had nothing at all. At the very least, he had some ideas about training methods that came from his previous world.

What restricted him most now was resources, wealth, and money.

With only thirty-three dollars in his pocket, it was questionable whether it would even feed himself and Weedle for a few days.

So after thinking for a long time, he returned to the question of how to obtain resources.

Actually.

He had an easier choice.

He could let Weedle grow freely. As long as it evolved into Beedrill, it would have a certain level of basic combat power.

Weedle's growth cycle was extremely short. It could be considered one of the fastest-evolving Pokémon of all.

Then, with the evolved Beedrill, he could find opportunities to catch Pokémon that were easier to raise and had greater potential.

But if he did that, missing the valuable training stages of Weedle and Kakuna would mean the final Beedrill was essentially ruined.

Trade one Pokémon for greater possibilities?

Perhaps Xia Yan could have made that decision easily before, but now, looking at the Weedle curled up in his arms, filled with trust and dependence on him—

He gave up on it.

"We're both at the bottom of each other's food chains, but I don't believe we'll always stay at the bottom."

Gently stroking Weedle, Xia Yan made his decision.

Find a way to make money!

As a Pokémon Trainer, what was the fastest way to make money?

Based on Xia Yan's current understanding of this world, it was battling!

But expecting a Weedle that had only recently been born and had zero combat experience to defeat others was nothing more than wishful thinking.

So he needed to adjust his approach a little.

He already had an idea, but the prerequisite was that Weedle needed to improve. At the very least, it could not remain like a Pokémon that had just been born.

His active thoughts consumed a great deal of energy. Once they gradually calmed, drowsiness followed.

Holding Weedle, Xia Yan leaned against the wall. Borrowing the warmth of the campfire, he soon fell asleep.

One rainstorm, one broken house, one person, and one Pokémon.

The beginning of a story.