Kaito closed the post—apparently written by some angry youth—and thought only of becoming a Battle Trainer. His family's finances at age fifteen weren't great, but they could probably manage 80,000 yen. But was it worth spending that much for a one percent chance? Would it put too much pressure on his parents?
Speaking of which, didn't transmigrators usually get some kind of cheat system? Kaito tried calling out for a system in his mind several times. Nothing.
"What are you doing?" Kenji glanced over. "There's a match on, and you're playing with your phone?"
"Nothing, just thinking," Kaito pocketed his phone. "Do you think becoming a Battle Trainer is too hard?"
"Hard? Obviously," Kenji said. "If everyone could do it, what would be special about it? Like exams—if everyone got first place, who would admire them?"
Since when was this guy so philosophical? Kaito was slightly surprised. He continued: "But one percent odds are too low. It's practically gambling."
"Not really," Kenji said, eyes on the TV. "Didn't the teacher say? One percent is just the average. That's dragged down by people who refuse to give up, hoping against hope. People with real talent have way better than one percent."
"Talent? What's that?"
The moment Kaito asked, Kenji stared at him in shock. "I thought I was the only one not paying attention in class. Didn't expect a model student like you to go bad, too. You didn't listen to anything the teacher said?"
"Uh, I was thinking about something else," Kaito improvised. "What is talent?"
"I can't explain it well. The teacher said many factors affect it," Kenji recalled. "Height, weight, blood sugar, blood pressure, your mood on inscription day, and so on. It's complicated. 'Talent' is just a convenient term."
"Can it be measured?" Kaito asked. "If you only find out your talent level at inscription, isn't that meaningless?"
"It can be measured, just not accurately," Kenji said. "Basic stuff like height and weight doesn't change much, so that's measurable. But how do you measure your mood that day? The teacher said pre-measurement data usually has five percent variance."
"That's still good. Have you been measured?" Kaito asked.
At this point, Kenji saw something he cared about on TV and answered impatiently: "We had a physical exam last week. Check your own report. Don't bother me."
Kaito was surprised. When did this guy become such a TV addict? As a kid, he spent all day by the river flipping rocks and catching fish. That's why he got so dark.
Were Pokémon battles really that captivating? He looked at the screen. The commentators were introducing the competitors.
"Alright, after four intense matches, we've reached the fifth and final round. Let's see who each side sends out."
"Above the Azure Clouds, as expected, sends their captain and ace—Cloud Emperor 'Lance'! Which Pokémon will he use this time?"
"And for Battle King—oh! Instead of veteran Red, they're sending out tournament debutant and rising star 'Rei'! Everyone has witnessed Rei's performance this tournament, but can someone lacking championship experience really match the Cloud Emperor? Let's wait and see."
In front of the TV, Kaito froze at the name Rei. Rei? Wasn't that Kenji's older brother? They used to play together as kids.
On Earth, Rei had gotten into a fight with outsiders in his third year of middle school, suffered severe injuries, and died. Kaito was only eight that year—the memory had grown hazy.
He never expected Rei in this world to still be alive and to have become such a powerful Battle Trainer, competing on television. No doubt about it—Kenji's reaction confirmed it wasn't just a namesake.
And that face on TV gradually overlapped with Kaito's memory of the big brother who took him hiking and bird-nest raiding.
"Brother Rei..." Kaito wanted to ask Kenji why his brother was still alive, but feared getting punched. He chose to watch quietly instead. He was curious what this world's Rei was like.
Rei was seven years older, so twenty-two now. Somewhat handsome. When the camera panned across the audience, many female fans could be seen screaming for him.
Being a Battle Trainer was nice—you could sleep with fans.
After both competitors entered the battlefield, the organizers raised an energy barrier—apparently to protect the live audience.
Both immediately summoned their Pokémon. Lance's left hand glowed golden, a green Poké Ball rune lighting up. A figure rapidly materialized before him like stacking pixels.
"Snorlax?" Kaito recognized this one. Ash had one—ate constantly, could swim butterfly stroke, tanky, and serious damage. A strong Pokémon.
On the other side, Rei also summoned his Pokémon. He used his right hand's Battle Mark, calling forth a large black bird that Kaito didn't recognize.
Fortunately, there were commentators.
"Wow, Cloud Emperor actually summoned Snorlax! Never heard of him using it before—he hid this card deep, only revealing it for the championship."
"On Rei's side, he's summoned his Corviknight again. He's only used this one Pokémon this entire tournament. Whether his other Pokémon aren't trained enough or he truly only has one remains unknown."
Corviknight. Kaito memorized the name.
The large bird did look like it wore medieval knight armor. Very cool.
At this moment, Kenji suddenly spoke: "When your dad gave him the Rookidee back then, he definitely never imagined it would grow into a Corviknight."
"Huh?" Kaito startled.
This magnificent bird was a gift from his dad? Rookidee? What was that?
He quickly searched on his phone and found an evolution chart.
Rookidee → Corvisquire → Corviknight
Rookidee—that was the small bird his dad held in the family portrait!
So that tiny sparrow could evolve into such a massive creature. Truly worthy of being called a Pokémon.
If that was the case, then...
Kaito immediately searched Bounsweet. Sure enough, Bounsweet had an evolution too.
Steenee!
It looked like a girl singing folk songs, very cute.
Kaito looked at the mangosteen spirit sleeping on his lap.
This thing could turn into a beautiful girl? That magical?
An involuntary image surfaced in his mind—a meme of someone pointing at a catgirl on their computer screen, telling their cat "transform for me, damn it."
Except his actually could transform.
He wondered how it would taste after evolving.
Wait, no no no. Kaito shook his head violently.
His thoughts were becoming problematic, always drifting toward food.
It was all this Bounsweet's fault for being too fragrant.