Chapter 1 Transmigration: I'm Actually a Humanoid Pokémon?
The town of Suchuan, nestled in the Galar region.
A small mountain settlement, once prosperous thanks to its ancient craftsmanship, now quiet and mist-veiled. At the edge of town stood a two-story wooden house, its yellow-brown walls weathered by time, blending naturally into the landscape.
Inside, iron weapons hung neatly along the walls. Among them was a well-maintained cross-guard sword, its unsharpened blade reflecting a cold gleam under the morning light.
On the second floor, a boy lay asleep—until a sharp cry jolted him awake.
"Kwaa—!"
Ragnar rubbed his eyes, sitting up groggily. At the foot of his bed stood a plump duck Pokémon, gripping a bright green leek like a weapon. Its sharp eyes were fixed firmly on him.
…Farfetch'd?
Wasn't he supposed to be dead—hit by a truck on his way to buy figurines back in his old world?
So why was there a giant leek-wielding duck in his room? Had someone delivered ingredients for soup?
Instinctively, Ragnar reached for the cross-guard sword beside his bed and grasped its hilt.
"Wait… what am I doing?"
Memories flooded his mind—foreign yet familiar. He froze, breath caught in his throat.
He had… transmigrated.
Not just anywhere, but into the world of Pokémon.
A world where mysterious creatures lived alongside humans—partners, companions, and sometimes rivals. From ancient civilizations to modern cities, Pokémon had always been part of human history. Once feared as monsters, now cherished as allies.
And now, he was here.
The body's original owner had lived in Galar all his life. His mother had passed away from illness; his father, consumed by grief, left home years ago to pursue a legendary Pokémon—and never returned.
Left alone, the boy trained obsessively, pushing his body beyond its limits. Last night, exhaustion and old injuries finally caught up with him.
And that was when Ragnar arrived.
"So… he tried to defeat Pokémon with swordsmanship?" Ragnar murmured.
He knew, from manga and legend alike, that exceptional humans could battle Pokémon physically—martial artists, aura users, ancient knights. But challenging a legendary Pokémon alone?
That was madness.
"…Well. I guess I'll see him again someday."
Ragnar steadied his breathing, rose from bed, and nodded at Farfetch'd.
"Sorry. I overslept. Training starts late today."
According to memory, his father's lineage traced back to old Galarian knights—sword instructors who once taught royal guards. In ancient times, when Pokémon and humans still fought openly, such swordsmanship was a necessity.
Now, in the modern era, sword schools were nearly forgotten.
Yet here he was—with a cross-guard sword… and a Farfetch'd partner.
"Kwa-kapoo!"
Farfetch'd tucked its leek under its wing and walked over, tapping Ragnar's shoulder proudly.
Ragnar smiled, rubbing the Pokémon's feathery head.
"So what if Dad ran off? I'm not that fragile."
He washed up. In the mirror, a handsome youth with black hair and deep red eyes stared back. An unusual combination—but it suited him.
Breakfast was simple but hearty.
In Galar, curry was a cultural staple. Throw ingredients and Berries into a pot, stir, simmer—and endless flavors emerged. There were said to be over a hundred varieties of curry across the region.
After eating with Farfetch'd, Ragnar carried his sword into the open yard behind the house.
Same routine as before.
If he had a second life, he'd live it differently from the first.
"Click!"
Farfetch'd grasped its leek, eyes brimming with fighting spirit.
Ragnar raised his sword and took a breath—
When suddenly, translucent text appeared before his eyes.
[System Activation Successful]
[Battle Detected — RPG Module Enabled]
Name: Ragnar
Age: 18
HP: 55
Attack: 70 (+10 Iron Sword)
Defense: 35
Special Attack: 43
Special Defense: 65
Speed: 65
Total: 333
Evaluation:
A skilled modern swordsman with the physical foundation to contend with low-level Pokémon. Significant growth potential remains.
Note:
Battle and training grant experience. Leveling up increases attributes.
Ragnar blinked.
"A system…?"
So this was his cheat ability. And apparently, not just one module—others were locked away for later.
He glanced at his stats.
"Am I being raised into a humanoid Pokémon or something?"
Still, it made sense. Modern humans were physically weaker than ancient ones—but with training, one could regain that strength.
Even so, Farfetch'd could use moves. He only had a sword.
But a path to growth was a path worth taking.
Ragnar tightened his grip.
"Alright. Come on, Farfetch'd!"
His first battle in this world—
Against a duck with a leek.
"Kwaa!!"
Farfetch'd charged forward. Leek met steel. The clash rang sharply through the courtyard.
Fifteen minutes later.
Whoosh—!
Sword and leek locked together, air rippling between them. Neither yielded.
Until Ragnar stepped back, panting.
"That's enough for today!"
He dropped onto the ground, laughing breathlessly while massaging his sore wrists. Even an unsharpened sword was heavy. Lasting fifteen minutes was already impressive.
These were the results of the previous owner's relentless training. A normal person would've collapsed in minutes.
"Kwa."
Farfetch'd nodded, sitting beside him and hugging its leek proudly. It respected this human partner—one who could fight alongside it as an equal.
A trainer worthy of trust.
Ragnar lay back on the grass, watching clouds drift across the sky.
Then another message appeared.
[Battle Complete. Experience Calculating…]
[Attributes Increased.]
HP: 55 → 56
Defense: 35 → 36
Speed: 65 → 66
Ragnar grinned.
"Guess this world's going to be fun."