Only games are off-limits... but animation is fair game?
This kind of restriction had never come up before. It was genuinely strange.
When the new condition arrived, Kairos didn't immediately retreat into the system. He picked up his phone from the desk, connected to the spotty public Wi-Fi, and started scrolling through whatever he could find about this world's entertainment industry.
Alright. Get the lay of the land first.
If the system wanted him to promote Pokemon through animation, he needed to understand how far this world had already come on its own.
The screen's glow reflected off his face as his fingers moved quickly across the display. With each new search result, his brow tightened slightly, then slowly relaxed.
The entertainment industry here was, to put it plainly, almost absurdly advanced.
He clicked through a few streaming sites at random. The animated films and series on the front page were staggering in quality, both visually and technically. Lighting, shadow rendering, particle effects, even the fine texture of individual strands of hair were rendered with breathtaking detail.
In terms of raw technical capability, this world had matched, and possibly surpassed, the highest standards he'd known in his previous life.
What surprised him even more was how far artificial intelligence technology had come here. AI illustration tools, AI modeling software, AI end-to-end synthesis programs flooded the market in endless variety, all of them genuinely impressive.
In this world, given a solid concept and enough computing power, a single person could accomplish with AI what would have previously required an entire production team.
But after browsing for a while, Kairos sensed something was off.
He clicked on the highest-trending animation of the moment, something called Return of the God.
The visuals were undeniably dazzling. The fight choreography hit hard, the special effects were explosive. But the story was an absolute mess.
Same old formula: the protagonist gets humiliated at the start, stumbles into some overpowered ability, spends the rest of the show flexing and getting revenge, and then the ending slaps on some shallow moral lesson like a Band-Aid. The kind of storytelling that grabbed its audience by the collar and force-fed them garbage.
He switched to a few others. More of the same.
Either the visuals were gorgeous and the plot was a brain-dead power fantasy, or it was billed as a cerebral thriller that turned out to have more plot holes than story.
Click on any of them and you'd find that aside from swapped character names, the story beats, shot compositions, and even the iconic one-liners were virtually identical to something else. Plagiarism was rampant.
Kairos had seen enough.
This is the state of the entertainment world here.
He browsed a little longer, then closed the browser. The picture was clear.
It was like a maxed-out warrior who only knew how to auto-attack. This world had top-tier technical capability, even a solid suite of AI tools, and yet it was missing the one thing that actually mattered: stories with soul. The kind that stayed with you.
And Pokemon was exactly the thing to fill that void.
The bond between species. The drive to chase a dream no matter the cost. Creatures that were both adorable and genuinely formidable. For the people of this world, it would be something of a one-sided cultural awakening.
With the outside picture mapped out, Kairos finally turned his attention back to the system.
Now that the mission had changed, he wasn't sure which of his previous modules were still usable.
He closed his eyes and let his focus sink inward.
Sure enough, the familiar game production interface was completely grayed out, every module locked. A single line of text stood out with stark clarity: "Due to a conflict with the laws of this world, the host cannot produce games in the current world."
Not exactly a welcome message.
But Kairos didn't panic. This was a special world, and some restrictions came with the territory.
He kept scrolling through the interface, looking for anything still active.
Before long, in the corner of the screen, he spotted a new icon shaped like a strip of film.
"Currently available function: Animation Production Assist (Basic)."
"Description: In recognition of the host's role as an animation creator, the system will provide basic data support and access to the materials library. Additionally, top-tier script refinement, storyboard logic correction, and original character design references are available."
Kairos stared at it for a moment.
Not as convenient as before, but more than workable.
This world's AI technology was advanced enough that as long as he supplied precise concepts, scripts, and core design details, he could absolutely leverage the existing tools to produce something finished.
With that settled, he knew exactly what to make.
The Indigo League!. The classics.
Episode one.
The meeting between Ash and Pikachu.
It was where everything in Pokemon began, and the story that captured better than anything else what the word "bond" actually meant.
He was just about to open his laptop and start organizing his thoughts when his phone buzzed on the desk.
He picked it up and glanced at the screen.
The contact read: Rich Kid, Simon.
He answered, and was immediately hit with a loud, laid-back voice on the other end.
"Hey, heard you got into it with that jerk again today. Come on, man, why can't you just let it go? Wang Dawei's a piece of work, sure, but he's still the one signing your paychecks."
Kairos held the phone slightly away from his ear. He thought back to what he knew about the original host's personality, then offered a small smile. "He told me to rip off someone else's work. I said no."
"So what if you copy a little? Everyone in this industry does it. If you don't, someone else will, and you're the one who ends up broke."
Simon sounded more worked up about it than Kairos himself.
"Seriously, man, don't waste your time taking abuse at that place. Why not switch things up? Come work at my dad's company, I'll get you set up with an easy position, no stress..."
"I'm good." Kairos cut him off. "I've got something in the works."
"Something in the works?" Simon paused. "You're not going original again, are you? Look, I'm not trying to be harsh, but look at the market right now. Everyone's copying everyone else. Going original is just asking for pain."
"Trust me, this one's different. It'll work."
A few seconds of silence on the other end, followed by a long, slow exhale.
"Fine. You've always been stubborn, even back when we were kids. Do it your way. But listen, if things get rough, or you run out of money, call me. Anytime."
"Actually, I need your help right now." Kairos didn't bother easing into it.
"How much?"
"Fifty thousand."
"Fifty? That's it?" Simon sounded genuinely surprised. "Send me your account number. I'll transfer it right now."
Less than a minute later, his phone buzzed with a bank notification confirming the deposit.
Kairos looked at the message and gave a quiet nod.
That was enough to cover the first episode.
Now it was time to get to work.
A few minutes later, he opened his laptop and created a new folder.
For the next several hours, he barely left his chair.
Using the system's materials library, he pulled up every visual detail stored in his memory, everything about Ash, Pikachu, Professor Oak, and Pallet Town, then adjusted certain elements to fit the context.
He looked at the design sheets filling his screen, each one polished enough to pass for a movie poster, and gave a satisfied nod.
The character art phase was done.
Next, he needed to find someone.
No matter how capable this world's AI was, turning static images into a seamless, high-quality animation still required a skilled hand at the controls. He spent a good while filtering through a freelance platform before settling on one candidate.
The user's handle was "Night Owl," and their profile picture was a cat with heavy bags under its eyes.
Veteran AI animator. Fluent in the full Phantom Vision AI workflow. Specializes in stylized rendering and motion capture. Rush orders welcome. Results without the attitude.
Kairos reviewed the portfolio. The style was all over the place, but the fundamentals were solid, and that was what he needed.
More importantly, the rates were reasonable, and the account looked like it could use the work.
He sent a direct message, briefly outlined what he needed, and attached the script and concept designs.
The reply came quickly.
Night Owl: Bro, did you generate these design sheets with the M model? Not bad. Fair warning though, this retro 2D style is pretty dated. Audiences want high-fidelity 3D these days. And this script... classic adventure setup? That kind of thing hasn't been trending for a while.
Kairos typed back without hesitation.
Don't touch the style. Keep it exactly as is. Your job is to use the AI tools to bring the script and storyboards to life as animation. Motion needs to be fluid, the details need to land. Budget is ten thousand. I'll front half as a deposit. Finished cut in three days.
Night Owl: Ten thousand? Are you serious? You think this is easy? Especially the emotional scenes.
AI really struggles with expressions. You're not getting this done for under twenty grand. And honestly, the script reads kind of juvenile. Nobody's watching this type of thing right now. Just looking at it is giving me a headache.
Kairos had expected this. He didn't rush his reply.
Twenty thousand, final offer. This is episode one. If the reception is good, there's long-term work after this. Also, go back and read the section in the script about the bond. That's the whole point of this project.
A long silence followed.
Just as Kairos was considering moving on to someone else, the chat window updated.
Night Owl: ...Fine. But I'm being upfront with you: I'll do my best to dial in the AI, but there are emotional details it genuinely can't nail. Some scenes might come out a little stiff. Also, deposit first.
Kairos transferred ten thousand without a word.
The moment the payment went through, the other person's tone shifted noticeably.
Night Owl: Thanks, boss. Big moves. Starting on it now. Still think the script's a little idealistic, though. Audiences want the payoff upfront. Slow burns don't really land anymore.
Kairos didn't explain himself. He just sent back one line.
Once you see the finished thing, you'll understand.
The next two days passed quickly, and productively.
During the day, Kairos used the system to keep refining the scripts and designs for the next episodes.
At night, he coordinated with Night Owl online, working through whatever problems came up in production.
At first, Night Owl had assumed Kairos was just some guy with money and a passing creative itch, maybe a rich kid who wanted to feel like a director for a week. The attitude was there in every reply, that particular brand of professional politeness that barely concealed a shrug.
But as the project went deeper, everything changed.
Not because of the money. It was the feedback notes and scene breakdowns that Kairos kept sending over.
When Night Owl, following standard logic, rendered Pikachu standing beside Ash with a cheerful, easygoing expression, Kairos's response came through almost immediately.
This isn't right. Pikachu at this point is resistant. It doesn't want to go into the Poke Ball. It doesn't want Ash anywhere near it. The eyes need to be guarded, a little irritated, with an edge of real contempt. The body should be tense, like it's ready to bolt at any second.
Sitting at his desk, Night Owl rolled his eyes a little.
It's just a pet. Since when does a pet need this much character work?
Still, he adjusted the parameters and ran the generation again.
When the result came up on his screen, he went still.
The Pikachu the AI had rendered stood with its arms crossed, gaze sliding sideways, that haughty, dismissive expression somehow completely, undeniably alive.
It was only a static image. But you could practically hear the little creature emit a contemptuous sniff.
Then came the Spearow attack sequence.
Night Owl's instinct had been straightforward: have the AI generate a swarm of birds diving down, give the protagonist a cool defensive pose, call it done. Standard procedure.
But Kairos's message arrived, and it was long.
This isn't a cool moment. Ash has zero combat ability at this point. He's just trying to shield Pikachu. His movement should be clumsy, the struggle of someone who's already been knocked around.
His body should curve forward, both arms wrapped around Pikachu, who's still discharging electricity. His expression can't carry any fear. Only resolve. The rain in the background needs to be heavy and cold, and it needs to contrast against that small flash of Pikachu's lightning.
Night Owl read through it once, then sat there for a moment.
Without quite realizing when he'd made the decision, he started adjusting the prompts exactly as described, reworking the lighting, reconstructing the framing.
A few minutes later, the rendered clip appeared on his screen.
A dark, rain-soaked night. Wind tearing through everything. A boy face-down in the mud, battered and bleeding, but still holding on, arms locked tight around the small creature pressed to his chest. That thin streak of yellow lightning cutting through the darkness, faint but stubborn.
Across town, Night Owl stared at his monitor.
He realized his eyes were stinging.
He'd been in animation for years. He'd seen countless stunning effects and explosive battle sequences. But not once, in any of it, had a single frame made him feel anything like this.
So this is what it looks like when someone actually gives a damn about each other.
After that, he stopped thinking of it as a job.
He started putting in extra hours on his own. Started thinking about how to carry the emotion, how to build tension in the compositions. He even started wondering who exactly Kairos was, because no ordinary person, and definitely not some rich kid killing time, wrote direction notes like these.
This was someone who understood storytelling at a deep level. Someone with a serious background in directing or writing.
What he couldn't figure out was why someone like that had come to him.
Late on the second night, Night Owl sent the final cut.
Night Owl: Done, boss. Take a look. Honestly, this was the most exhausting job I've ever taken on. Also the most satisfying.
Seriously though, if this doesn't blow up, I'll eat my laptop.
۞۞۞۞
~ Push the story forward with your Power Stones