Four days after Arin set his sights on building a future beyond the shop, life continued in its steady rhythm. Mornings were spent sweeping, stocking shelves, and helping Mrs. Varma with the trickle of customers, while evenings were filled with quiet study and planning for a future he could barely imagine.
It was during one of those ordinary mornings, broom in hand, that Mrs. Varma called him over with a rare glint in her eyes. "Put that down for a second, Arin. I've got some news."
He paused, heart skipping. "Good news?"
She nodded, folding her arms. "I spoke to an old friend of mine-used to work at the Safari Zone before retiring. He knows the current owner well. They're willing to take you on."
Arin blinked, stunned. "Me? But… I'm not even twelve yet. Isn't that too young?"
Mrs. Varma's mouth twitched, almost a smile. "Normally, yes. But the Safari Zone is strict about who they hire. Too many try to sneak in for the wrong reasons, so they only bring in people they trust. Someone young, with no family and nowhere else to go, is less likely to cause trouble-and more likely to be loyal. You're not just a face in the crowd, Arin. You're a known quantity."
He let the words sink in. He'd expected rejection, not a foot in the door. "What about pay?"
Her expression turned serious. "You'll be on probation until you're twelve. That means your pay will be only five hundred Pokécoin a month. That's low-less than a third of what even the least-skilled adult worker makes. Most start at sixteen hundred, some more. But you'll have a roof, food, and a chance to prove yourself. And there's something else."
Arin's eyes widened. "What?"
Mrs. Varma leaned in, voice dropping. "The Safari Zone is private about its inner workings. In exchange for keeping everything you see there confidential, they'll let you catch one Pokémon of your own. Not just any, though-only from the first or second tier. Level one Pokémon are things like Pidgey, Rattata, Zubat, Spearow, Magikarp. Level two includes Nidoran, Sandshrew, Bellsprout, Ekans, and a few others."
His mind raced. It wasn't a Dratini or a rare Kangaskhan, but it was a real start-his own Pokémon, caught with his own hands. The thought sent a thrill through him.
Mrs. Varma continued, "Level three and four are out of reach for now. That means no Mankey, Ponyta, Oddish, Machop, Pichu, Kangaskhan, or Doduo. But don't dismiss the basics. Plenty of trainers have made it far with a humble start."
Arin nodded, already picturing himself with a partner, even if it was just a scrappy Pidgey or stubborn Nidoran. "What will the work be like?"
She didn't sugarcoat it. "Hard. The Safari Zone isn't just a park-it's a living, breathing ecosystem. You'll be cleaning, carrying supplies, helping with repairs, maybe even assisting with Pokémon care if you prove yourself. Long hours, sometimes outside in the heat or rain. There's no room for laziness or mistakes. If you're serious, you need to be ready."
He met her gaze, determination flaring. "I am. I know it won't be easy, but… I have to try. I can't stay a shop assistant forever."
Mrs. Varma's eyes softened. "I thought you'd say that. I'll let them know you accept. You'll start in a week. Use the time to rest, get your things in order, and think about which Pokémon you'd want to catch when the chance comes. It's a big decision, Arin. Don't rush it."
He nodded, heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement. For the first time since arriving in this world, he felt the path ahead opening-uncertain, yes, but finally his own to walk.
That evening, after the shop closed, Arin sat at the computer Mrs. Varma had allowed him to repair. With newfound purpose, he began researching everything he could about the Safari Zone. The preserve was located north of Fuchsia City and had been established decades ago as a conservation area for rare and unusual Pokémon. It was currently owned by a man named Baoba, who had a reputation for being both eccentric and shrewd.
The Safari Zone itself was divided into four distinct areas: the Center Area where visitors entered, Area 1 to the east (known for its ponds and water-types), Area 2 to the north (a grassy plain with diverse species), and Area 3 to the west (more rugged terrain with some rarer finds). Each section had its own ecosystem, carefully maintained to support different types of Pokémon.
Arin found articles detailing the Zone's strict visitor policies. Guests paid 5,500 PokéDollars for a mere 13 minutes inside-an exorbitant fee that explained why the place was frequented mainly by the wealthy. Once inside, visitors couldn't use their own Pokémon to battle; instead, they were given special Safari Balls and could only throw bait or rocks to influence their chances of a successful capture.
The more he read, the more Arin understood why the Zone was so secretive about its operations. Beyond the public areas, there were breeding programs, rehabilitation spaces for injured Pokémon, and carefully controlled habitats that ensured rare species continued to thrive. Staff members were expected to maintain absolute confidentiality about these inner workings.
He also discovered that similar Safari Zones existed in other regions-Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh each had their own versions, though Kanto's was considered the original and most prestigious. Some had temporarily closed when Baoba took extended vacations, but Fuchsia's had remained operational under management teams.
The articles mentioned the Zone's strict rules: visitors had to stay on designated paths, maintain quiet to avoid disturbing the Pokémon, and were forbidden from removing anything from the preserve except captured Pokémon in Safari Balls. Rangers patrolled regularly, and those who broke the rules were promptly escorted out-often with lifetime bans.
As the week progressed, Arin realized he needed to prepare physically as well as mentally. His body had been weakened during his first weeks in this world, when he'd struggled just to survive on the streets. Though Mrs. Varma's regular meals had helped him recover some strength, he knew the physical demands of working at the Safari Zone would far exceed sweeping floors and stocking shelves.
Each morning before the shop opened, he began a simple exercise routine. At first, it was just basic stretches, a few push-ups, and sit-ups that left his muscles burning. By the third day, he added jogging around the block, pushing himself a little further each time. His lungs protested and his legs ached, but he welcomed the discomfort. It meant he was getting stronger.
In the evenings, he studied the Pokémon he might be allowed to catch. Each had strengths and weaknesses, and Arin weighed his options carefully. A Pidgey might evolve into the impressive Pidgeot someday, but required patience and consistent training. Rattata were adaptable and scrappy, often underestimated by opponents. Nidoran had potential to evolve twice, eventually becoming the powerful Nidoking or Nidoqueen. Sandshrew offered solid defense, while Bellsprout could provide type advantages against water and ground Pokémon.
He considered not just battle potential, but temperament and compatibility. Would he work better with an energetic partner or a calm one? Did he want a Pokémon that would evolve quickly, or one that might take longer but offer greater rewards? These questions occupied his thoughts as he swept the shop floor, arranged jars, and prepared for the change ahead.
By the time his last day at Mrs. Varma's shop arrived, Arin felt more prepared-not ready, perhaps, but at least not completely unprepared. His body was stronger than it had been a week ago, his knowledge of the Safari Zone was substantial, and he'd narrowed down his potential Pokémon choices to a few promising candidates.
Mrs. Varma had been quieter than usual all day, and as closing time approached, she handed him a small package wrapped in brown paper. "Something for the road," she said gruffly. "Don't open it until tomorrow."
Arin accepted it, throat tight with unexpected emotion. "Thank you. For everything."
She waved away his gratitude. "You fixed my radio and my computer. Consider us even." But there was warmth in her eyes that belied her words.
That night, as he lay in the attic bed for the last time, Arin stared at the ceiling, his mind racing with possibilities. The Safari Zone represented more than just a job-it was his first real step toward building a life in this world. The work would be hard, the pay meager, but he'd have food, shelter, and most importantly, the chance to catch his very first Pokémon.
He pictured himself with a partner by his side-not just any creature, but one he'd chosen carefully, one whose potential matched his own. Together, they would grow stronger, learn from each other, and someday, perhaps, venture beyond Fuchsia to see what the wider world had to offer.
Morning would come soon, bringing with it a new chapter. Arin closed his eyes, ready for whatever challenges lay ahead.
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