The morning sun had barely crested the horizon when Arin arrived at the Safari Zone's staff entrance. Unlike the grand gates that welcomed wealthy visitors, this entrance was understated-a simple door marked "Personnel Only" tucked away from public view. He clutched the small package Mrs. Varma had given him, still unopened as promised, and took a deep breath before knocking.
The door swung open to reveal a weathered man in his fifties, with sun-leathered skin and sharp eyes that immediately assessed Arin from head to toe.
"You must be the Varma boy," he said, his voice gruff but not unkind. "I'm Kenji, head ranger. The Warden's expecting you."
Arin followed Kenji through a narrow hallway that opened into a surprisingly large staff area. Unlike the manicured paths visitors saw, this revealed the working heart of the Safari Zone: supply rooms, monitoring stations, and a wall of screens showing different areas of the preserve.
The Warden's office was modest but organized, with maps covering one wall and filing cabinets lining another. Behind the desk sat a man who could only be Baoba-eccentric as rumored, with wild gray hair and bright, intelligent eyes that seemed to miss nothing.
"So you're Varma's project," he said, gesturing for Arin to sit. "She says you're clever and discreet. We'll see about that. The Safari Zone isn't just a tourist attraction, boy. It's a preserve, a research facility, and a business. Everything you see here stays here. Understood?"
Arin nodded solemnly. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Now, your duties." Baoba slid a folder across the desk. "You'll start with the basics-cleaning enclosures, restocking bait stations, helping maintain the paths. If you prove reliable, we'll move you up. Pay is five hundred a month until you're twelve, as agreed. Room and board included. One day off per week."
He fixed Arin with a penetrating stare. "And yes, you'll get to catch one Pokémon, but not today. First, you learn how things work here."
The next hour was a whirlwind of information. The Safari Zone, Arin learned, was divided into four distinct areas, each with its own ecosystem. The Center Area served as the main hub, while Areas 1, 2, and 3 housed increasingly rare Pokémon. Visitors paid 5,500 PokéDollars for just 13 minutes inside and were limited to 500 steps before being automatically recalled to the entrance.
"They get thirty Safari Balls," Kenji explained as he took over the tour. "No battles allowed-just bait to make Pokémon stick around longer but harder to catch, or rocks to make them easier to catch but more likely to flee. Most leave empty-handed, which is exactly how we want it."
Arin raised an eyebrow, and Kenji chuckled.
"Conservation, kid. If everyone caught something, we'd have no Pokémon left. The high price and low success rate keeps the population stable."
They moved through staff-only corridors that bypassed the public areas, allowing rangers to move quickly between zones. Kenji pointed out security features-cameras disguised as rocks or trees, pressure plates that tracked visitor movements, and emergency call buttons hidden throughout the preserve.
"Most important thing you'll learn today," Kenji said, stopping at a small panel near a door. "The alarm system. Three types: yellow for minor issues like a visitor straying off-path, orange for medical emergencies or aggressive Pokémon, red for intruders or poachers."
He demonstrated the different buttons, explaining that each triggered a specific response protocol. "Yellow brings the nearest ranger. Orange brings medical staff. Red locks down the entire zone and brings everyone. Don't hit red unless you mean it."
By midday, Arin's head was spinning with information. He'd met a dozen staff members-rangers who patrolled the grounds, handlers who cared for injured Pokémon, maintenance workers who kept the infrastructure running, and even researchers who studied breeding patterns and habitat preferences.
Lunch was served in a simple cafeteria where staff gathered to exchange information and stories. Arin sat quietly, observing the dynamics. Most ignored him, but a few offered friendly nods or brief introductions. He noticed a few other young people around his age, including a girl named Mira who apparently worked there with her mother, one of the veterinarians.
After lunch, Arin was assigned to shadow Takeo, a gruff maintenance supervisor with twenty years of experience. They spent the afternoon checking bait stations throughout Area 1, refilling them with specialized food blends designed to attract specific Pokémon.
"Different species, different tastes," Takeo explained, showing Arin how to mix the correct proportions. "Get it wrong, and you might attract the wrong Pokémon to an area, which disrupts the ecosystem."
As they worked, Takeo pointed out hidden dangers-patches of tall grass where territorial Nidorino sometimes lurked, marshy areas where the ground could give way, trees where Beedrill nests might be hidden.
"Always be aware of your surroundings," he advised. "Most Pokémon won't bother you if you don't bother them, but some are naturally aggressive. That's why we have these."
He tapped a small device on his belt that resembled a whistle. "Sonic repeller. Different frequencies for different species. Last resort only-we try not to stress the Pokémon."
By late afternoon, Arin's muscles ached from carrying supply bags and climbing maintenance ladders to check overhead bait platforms. When they finally returned to the staff area, Takeo showed him to a small but clean room in the staff dormitory.
"Bathroom's down the hall. Dinner's at six. Lights out at ten." He paused at the door. "One more thing. That Pokémon you're allowed to catch? Choose carefully. Not just what's rare, but what suits you. A partner's not just a tool or a pet-it's a reflection of who you are."
Alone at last, Arin sank onto the narrow bed, finally opening Mrs. Varma's package. Inside was a simple but sturdy backpack containing a notebook, a pen, a small first-aid kit, and a folded note that read simply: "Be smart. Be safe. Be yourself."
The next few days fell into a rhythm. Mornings began early with staff briefings where the day's tasks were assigned and any overnight incidents were reported. Arin learned that poaching attempts were more common than visitors realized-people trying to sneak in without paying, or worse, trying to steal rare Pokémon for black market sales.
"Team Rocket's the worst," muttered a senior ranger during one briefing. "They don't just want one or two-they want to clean us out. That's why we rotate the Pokémon between areas regularly and keep the rarest ones off the visitor maps."
Arin's duties expanded gradually. Beyond cleaning and restocking, he learned to repair simple infrastructure-mending fences, clearing drainage ditches, and maintaining the hidden step counters that ensured visitors didn't exceed their limits.
He also began to build connections with the staff, learning from their experiences and absorbing their knowledge. The Safari Zone operated like a well-oiled machine, with each person playing a vital role in its maintenance and protection. Some had worked there for decades, while others were relatively new, but all shared a commitment to preserving the delicate balance of the ecosystem.
By the end of his first week, Arin had earned enough trust to occasionally work alone on simple tasks. During these quiet moments, he used his "Observe" skill on the Safari Zone's Pokémon, carefully noting their levels, moves, and IVs in the notebook Mrs. Varma had given him.
Most were what he expected-common species at relatively low levels. But occasionally, he spotted something special-a Nidorino with unusually high attack IVs, a Bellsprout with a rare egg move, a Sandshrew with perfect defense stats. He recorded everything, building a mental map of where the most promising Pokémon could be found.
On his seventh day, Arin was assigned to check the perimeter sensors in Area 2 when he noticed something odd-a section of fence that showed signs of recent cutting. He immediately pressed the yellow alert button on his communicator.
Kenji arrived within minutes, face grim as he examined the damage. "Good catch, kid. This is fresh-probably from last night." He upgraded the alert to orange, bringing more rangers to search the area for intruders.
No one was found, but the incident earned Arin approving nods from staff who had previously ignored him. That evening, Baoba himself stopped by the cafeteria to acknowledge Arin's vigilance.
"Eyes open, mouth shut-exactly what we need," the Warden said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Keep it up."
As he settled into bed that night, Arin reflected on how much had changed in just one week. He had a purpose now, a place where his skills were valued, and the promise of his very own Pokémon partner on the horizon. The work was hard, the pay minimal, but for the first time since arriving in this world, he felt like he was building something real.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new knowledge, and perhaps, a clearer vision of which Pokémon would become his first true ally in this world. For now, though, he was content to have found his place in the complex ecosystem of the Safari Zone-not just observing from the outside, but becoming an essential part of its hidden machinery.
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