"By the way, do you know how to cook?" Mewtwo asked curiously, setting down its game controller and turning to look at Edward.
Edward raised an eyebrow. That was a sudden change of topic.
"I do. Cooking is one of my hobbies," Edward replied with a nod. He really did know how to cook. Even though he was basically born with a silver spoon in his mouth after reincarnating into the Pokémon world, he hadn't forgotten the cooking skills he'd learned in his previous life. So now, not only could he cook, his culinary skills were actually pretty decent.
"What's your goal in life?" Mewtwo asked out of the blue again.
Edward took a deep breath.
Seriously? How was this any different from asking, "Master, what's your job?"
He'd been working as a director for so long, had produced so many films… How did Mewtwo still not know?
"I'm a director. What else could I be?" Edward replied with exasperation.
Mewtwo rested its chin in its hand, its eyes blank and unfocused.
Looking at Mewtwo's deadpan expression, Edward nearly called Q over to give it a good scolding—but Q didn't seem to care. It was currently sitting on the floor, staring curiously at a Pikachu plush.
This little guy had always been strangely obsessed with Pikachu—maybe because it was a Mimikyu? Edward had always wondered: if Mimikyu hatched from an egg, how did it already come with the Pikachu disguise?
As Mewtwo's eyes grew more and more vacant, Edward couldn't tell what it was thinking anymore. So instead, he turned his attention to Mewtwo's living space.
He had arranged a high-rise apartment for Mewtwo, over 200 square meters. It was well-furnished and fully decorated. Mewtwo hadn't made many changes to it, but there was one major difference—its home was filled with figurines, video games, and idol posters.
Next to the massive TV was a poster of the most famous idol group in the Hoenn League—an adorable music group made up of cute girls and cute Pokémon.
After one glance, Edward came to a conclusion:
Mewtwo had become a full-blown otaku.
He might as well start calling it Otamewtwo.
"Hey, what do you think of me opening a game-themed restaurant?" Mewtwo suddenly snapped back to reality, its eyes lighting up with excitement as it asked Edward.
Fortune glanced up at Mewtwo, its tiny eyes seeming to be pondering something.
"Do you even have money?" Edward asked flatly.
He had given Mewtwo a decent settlement sum back then—it was, after all, a national treasure. But judging from all the stuff in this place, Edward suspected that money had already been burned through.
"That's what you're for!" Mewtwo replied with a beaming smile. Opening a restaurant was easy, but a game-themed restaurant? That would require licensing from multiple gaming companies.
Edward narrowed his eyes at Mewtwo. This guy really said that with zero shame.
Suddenly, a strange "chirpy" sound came from beside him. Edward turned his head—he recognized that sound instantly. It was Fortune trying to say something.
Fortune mumbled a few things before pulling out a tablet—Edward had bought it specifically because he couldn't understand Fortune's speech.
Fortune tapped away for a while, and soon Edward understood: it was calculating the start-up cost for Mewtwo's restaurant idea—initial investment, monthly profit requirements, customer volume—all factored in. The numbers made Edward's eyes go wide.
In the end, Fortune displayed a single total cost, clearly stating how much Mewtwo would need upfront and that the return-on-investment period was uncertain.
"…Fine. I'll just consider it an investment in you," Edward said with a wave of his hand. He could afford it. It wasn't a massive sum. What he didn't understand, though, was why Mewtwo suddenly wanted to open a restaurant. Judging from the state of this place, there wasn't a proper kitchen in sight—just junk food and takeout containers everywhere.
Mewtwo gave Fortune a surprised look. It hadn't expected Edward's Pokémon to be this capable. All those terms and figures were dizzying.
"But do you even know how to cook?" Edward asked suspiciously.
Cooking might seem simple, but it wasn't. Controlling the heat, measuring seasonings, choosing ingredients—these were all key skills. The skill ceiling for a chef was high, but the floor was low. Anyone who could fry some rice could call themselves a "chef," but not every chef could prepare an imperial banquet.
"Nope." Mewtwo replied shamelessly.
Edward stared at it, dumbfounded. It didn't even pretend to be modest.
Still, looking at Mewtwo and thinking about its restaurant idea, Edward was reminded of a show from his past life—one that was fairly popular both as a series and a film:
Midnight Diner.
It originated in Japan and was later remade in China. The original had been highly acclaimed. Edward hadn't heard of it at first, until he watched the domestic remake—which was basically a giant product placement fest—and finally went back to watch the original version.
The contrast gave him whiplash.
Even a great original could be completely butchered in a remake.
"So you're planning to hire someone else to do the cooking, huh?" Edward said, rubbing his temples. He decided to check later if there were any shows like Midnight Diner in this world. If not, that would be a great niche to fill. Edward never thought he had too much money—especially since he had plenty of things to spend it on.
"Yup! I'll pay for the renovations, hire the staff, and just act like a hands-off boss~" Mewtwo nodded enthusiastically.
Edward rubbed his face.
"That's no different from playing a restaurant simulation game. Why not just go play one?" Edward said, clearly unimpressed. He had honestly thought Mewtwo wanted to cook itself.
"You're right. I'd rather aim for getting every Platinum Trophy in every game!" Mewtwo suddenly found its new dream.
Edward was speechless. But he didn't argue. To be fair, aiming for all platinum trophies was actually kind of amazing.
The Pokémon world's gaming industry wasn't as large as in his past life, but in certain niches, it had gone even further. There were tons of major titles and countless indie games. If Mewtwo really wanted to earn every platinum trophy, it would be a long and arduous journey.
"You could also become a video creator—document your journey to platinum every game," Edward suggested.
"I'll try it," Mewtwo agreed readily. Being a content creator didn't seem hard. It had seen enough of those videos already.
Edward was actually optimistic about it. Mewtwo might be an otaku, but with its psychic ability to multitask during gameplay, it could definitely clear games—and earn platinum trophies—at record speed.
(End of Chapter)