Andrew was an avid wilderness camping enthusiast. Before the Pokémon invasion, his greatest joy was squeezing time out of work to go camping in the wild. But ever since Pokémon began appearing, he'd lost all opportunities to enter the wilderness. He was forced to stay in the concrete jungle of the city every day, nearly suffocated by pressure.
In the early days of the invasion, he could still occasionally sneak out, or at least watch outdoor livestreams from bloggers. But as relations between humans and Pokémon worsened, many outdoor streamers lost their lives, and the outdoor category gradually fell into ruin. The few remaining streams were almost all blatant clickbait.
"So boring…" Andrew lay sprawled on his bed, endlessly swiping through videos.
Ever since the wilderness was placed under martial law, he never knew what to do during holidays. Checking the outdoor section had become second nature—pure muscle memory at this point.
Suddenly, a livestream cover he had never seen before appeared on his screen.
He glanced at the title and raised an eyebrow.
Real Adventure: Unveiling the Monsters
"What a garbage name," he muttered as he tapped in, fully intending to tear the streamer apart in the comments.
To be honest, he had seen countless livestreams with titles like this. They always claimed to be "real," riding the Pokémon invasion hype—but almost all of them were scams.
Among those clout-chasers, the ones who actually went into the wilderness and waved a camera around could at least be considered to have some professional ethics. Many others just used green screens—or worse, low-quality AI footage, without even bothering with post-production.
Andrew had fallen for this kind of stream more than a dozen times already. Every single time, he went in full of anticipation and came out swearing.
Since he was bored anyway, he decided this new scammer was getting a thorough verbal beatdown.
The moment he entered the livestream, Andrew froze.
On-screen was a young man in his early twenties, walking through a forest. He wasn't strikingly handsome, but he looked clean, bright, and approachable. At that moment, he was carefully moving forward, pointing toward a tree trunk in the distance.
"Everyone, please look," the streamer said. "There's a Caterpie on that tree trunk over there. Let's go closer and interact with it."
…Holy crap.
This is real?!
Andrew was so shocked he nearly smashed his phone into his own face.
He'd come in expecting to scold a liar—but this guy was actually in the wilderness. Not only that, he was trying to interact with a Pokémon at close range?!
The streamer was, of course, Max.
At the moment, he was practically the only person genuinely livestreaming outdoors, so he was absorbing nearly all the traffic in the entire category. Despite just starting, the viewer count in his stream was already surprisingly high.
In the direction Max pointed, everyone could clearly see it.
A green insect Pokémon, a bit shorter than a forearm, slowly wriggling up the tree trunk. A red, Y-shaped antenna sat atop its head—it was unmistakably the "Qingrong Worm" described on the official website.
The chat instantly exploded.
"Holy crap! It's HUGE!"
"Now I get why the authorities locked down the wilderness—big bugs like that are terrifying!"
"I think it's fine? It's actually kind of cute if you look closely. Those big eyes!"
"Isn't this called Qingrong Worm? Why is the streamer calling it Caterpie?"
The livestream was synchronized with Max's system panel in real time, so he naturally saw the comments. Smiling, he explained:
"I'm not making things up. If you ever encounter one, you can try calling it by both names and see which one it responds to."
Pokémon weren't ordinary animals. They were highly intelligent—some species even rivaled humans. Although Max didn't know where the original names came from, Pokémon clearly had some awareness of their own species names.
"Heh, then prove it! Call it and see if it reacts!" someone mocked in the chat.
As they spoke, Max had already walked up to the Caterpie.
The Caterpie had clearly noticed him, but it seemed rather bold. Instead of fleeing, it climbed down from the tree and stared straight at Max with its dark eyes.
This was clearly the Pokémon affinity buff in action.
"Hello there, little guy," Max said, suppressing the excitement in his heart. He took an Oran Berry from his backpack and placed it gently on the ground.
"I'm a travel blogger. I'm trying to show Pokémon to the world through livestreams. You can think of it as taking pictures of you so more people can understand you. Would you be willing to appear on camera?"
Max was a little nervous.
If Rockruff didn't count, this was actually the first time he'd spoken to a Pokémon like this. He wasn't sure if the Caterpie could understand such a long explanation.
The Caterpie glanced at the Oran Berry, which gave off a tempting scent, then looked back at the human before it. For some reason, it felt very close to him.
It nodded, lowered its head, and began nibbling on the berry.
Having received its consent, Max let out a quiet sigh of relief and turned back to the camera with a smile.
"Everyone, please take a look. This is a Caterpie, a Bug-type Pokémon. It uses the suction cups on its feet to climb trees and eat the leaves it likes. Because it needs to grow quickly, its appetite is huge—it can eat up to a hundred leaves a day."
"Earlier, some viewers were curious why the name I used is different from the official one. Next, I'll demonstrate."
He turned back to the Caterpie and called softly, "Qingrong Worm?"
The Caterpie didn't react at all, simply looking around as if it thought another Pokémon had arrived.
"…Caterpie?"
"Ji?"
The Caterpie suddenly lifted its head and looked at Max, clearly recognizing the call, though it didn't understand what he wanted.
"It's nothing. Thanks for cooperating so well," Max said with a smile, gently patting its head. The texture was soft and wonderful. He placed another Oran Berry on the ground.
The Caterpie's eyes lit up, and it immediately began eating again in big bites.
Inside the livestream, the chat completely exploded.
"It responded! Did it actually recognize its own name?"
"No way—fake, right?!"
"I don't think so. The footage looks real, the Pokémon are real—and it's eating!"
"Actually," Max said to the camera calmly, "compared to calling them 'monsters,' I prefer the name Pokémon. The word 'monster' carries too much hostility. But as you can see, if we approach them with goodwill, they respond with equal—or even greater—goodwill. I think calling such creatures 'monsters' is unfair."
"…I admit Caterpie is pretty cute," someone commented, "but isn't this just one example? Does the streamer have more proof?"
That message was sent by Andrew, his brows tightly furrowed. He still wasn't fully convinced by Max's words.
The overall tone of the chat was similar. No one outright insulted Max, but most felt he was drawing conclusions too quickly.
What could a single Caterpie really prove?
Seeing this, Max didn't argue. He simply smiled and, after leaving the Caterpie behind, continued deeper into the forest.
"Of course, one Caterpie doesn't prove anything. But from now on, I'll take you to meet many different Pokémon. They all have different personalities and habits—but one thing is the same."
"They're all very simple creatures. As long as you're willing to give them a little goodwill, they'll return it with everything they have."
Max never expected a single Caterpie to overturn all the negativity formed since the Pokémon invasion.
But a change had already begun.
At the very least, within this livestream, people had started to accept the name Caterpie.
The tide was turning.