While chat was busily debating that "turn-based" was this game's fatal flaw, Cynthia had a different take.
She thought it through: turn-based might look shallow, but there's a lot of room to build depth. In a sense, "Battle Road" is also turn-based—at the end of the day a program executes the game logic.
Especially in PvP, every time both players issue commands there's a long response window. Battle Road just overlays voice-command execution and, when a Pokémon's individual AI is good, the battles feel more lifelike.
So she actually felt a bit of anticipation for how this game's battles would play out.
That said, she didn't expect it to improve her Trainer understanding the way Battle Road sometimes did. Any Pokémon battle game runs into one unavoidable problem: the developer must know every single Pokémon inside and out. From movepool, typing, Abilities, and base stats to in-world traits—if it isn't faithfully reproduced, the battles lose real value.
Battle Road barely manages this, and that's with a professional team of over a hundred maintaining the database. Even so, it still coughs up bugs and blunders—wrong Abilities here, wrong types there… Grass-type Piplup, Flying-type Torkoal, that sort of thing. It's not necessarily laziness; there are just too many Pokémon. Turning them all into correct game data is bound to produce errors.
And the Emerald she was playing now? A solo dev made it. That challenge would be even bigger.
With that in mind, Cynthia shook her head slightly and refocused on the game.
Treecko's Pound landed; Poochyena's HP dropped by half. Poochyena Tackled back; Treecko lost a sliver. One more Pound and Poochyena fainted. Battle over.
Chat erupted again:
"Knew it—turn-based is kinda dull."
"This doesn't look hard either. Two hits and the enemy goes down. Just pick your strongest move every turn and mash it? Where's that 'insane difficulty' the blurb bragged about?"
"Didn't expect the battle details to be this polished, though—every move has an animation, and the sprites keep moving. Doesn't feel stiff at all."
"Facts. The art team deserves a bow from the gameplay team."
They didn't know a solo developer made this—they assumed a studio or big company. Given how good certain pieces looked, it didn't feel like a one-person project at all.
When the battle ended, Cynthia's character returned to Professor Birch's lab. As thanks, he gave Treecko to her as her starter. The rival—"Black-Haired Boy"—chose Torchic. The moment he got his ball, his alpha-male bravado kicked in and he demanded a battle.
It was as easy as the last one; Torchic was even a level lower and went down without fuss. The rival left. Birch told her to head north to fetch him back—he had more to give him—and slipped her five Poké Balls.
Cynthia obediently set out with Treecko.
Before leaving, she opened her menu to check status and got a sense of how this game differed. With Abilities and typing faithfully reproduced, each Pokémon's capabilities were labeled with numbers. Treecko's standout stats were Speed and Special Attack, several points higher than the rest.
Cynthia raised an eyebrow. She'd expected weak fidelity to real Pokémon, but this surprised her. She hadn't raised a Grovyle before, but she knew Hoenn's Grass starter is built around Speed and Sp. Atk. Clearly, the dev had captured that.
Could that mean every Pokémon's data in-game is accurate?
She immediately talked herself down—probably not. Treecko's info is widely available online; nailing that doesn't prove much. For niche or uncommon species, without a proper database it's hard to imagine a solo dev getting them right. Still, getting this far showed real intent.
After checking her bag, she followed the prompt north, passed through a town, and reached tall grass at the far end. Along the way she ran into plenty of wild Pokémon and battled them all. The fights were easy; Treecko climbed from level 5 to level 8 and learned Quick Attack.
When she spoke to "Black-Haired Boy," he claimed his Pokémon had improved too and asked for a rematch.
Chat cackled:
"What a nice guy—walking EXP bag!"
"Not even two minutes later and he's back to donate more EXP."
"Good people deserve good things—may his first kid be octuplets."
Cynthia queued the battle—and two seconds later realized something was off.
The opponent was still Torchic… but it was a level higher than Treecko. Level 9.
A bad feeling crept in. Level 8 vs. Level 9…
No way she'd lose, right? This was still the newbie tutorial. That "Black-Haired Boy" should be a guided-learning rival who teaches basics.
She ordered Quick Attack. Treecko lunged, twisted, and smacked with its tail. Torchic's HP dropped by barely a third.
Then Torchic opened its beak and spewed flame.
—[Torchic used Ember!]
—[It's super effective!]
Treecko's HP bar plunged like a rollercoaster, past half into yellow in one shot.
Cynthia had expected Torchic's type-advantaged move to hurt at +1 level, but not to take half her HP in a single blow.
She suddenly remembered buying a Potion at that blue-roofed shop in town. She quickly opened her bag and used it. A purple mist sprayed—Treecko's HP refilled to full.
Before she could exhale, Torchic spat another Ember and knocked Treecko right back under half.
That's when she realized: unlike some games, using a healing item consumes your turn here.
So this was… unwinnable?
Pound or Quick Attack would only shave off less than a third of Torchic's HP per turn. Two Embers from Torchic would KO Treecko. The Potion only delayed the inevitable.
Now what?
It looked like every line was losing.
Champion instincts took over; Cynthia calmed down and started looking for a line to break the stalemate.
A few seconds passed—and a prompt popped:
[You didn't issue a command in time. Your opponent moved first!]
[Torchic used Ember!]
[It's super effective!!]
Flames roared. The screen shook. Treecko's HP hit zero.
[Treecko fainted.]
[You have no other Pokémon!]
[Strawberry Ice Cream's vision goes dark…]
The screen went black. Cynthia stared, stunned. Then the scene shifted to the Pokémon Center. One difference: the money counter in the top-right was now zero.
Chat went nuts:
"Dude? This really is a newbie NPC, not an elite fight??"
"Even with type advantage and +1 level… two Embers to KO is a bit much, no?"
"I thought he came to spar. Bro really went for the throat!!"
"No wonder he made the streamer choose first—he was waiting to hard-counter! Picking a type-advantaged mon on purpose? Dirty!"
"Call in your invincible Garchomp, Nana!"
As the chat flew by, Cynthia snapped out of it. Now she understood the "extreme difficulty" disclaimer.
Every other game she'd played—even Battle Road's PvE—had one core: "feel-good." You could out-level NPCs easily, especially early. As the game moved to mid/late, NPC strength rose, but you could still keep them under your thumb.
Here, the NPCs were ready to "play fair" with you right out of the starter zone.
No—actually "unfair": type counter and +1 level. That's just stacking the deck against the player. If you think too long, your turn gets skipped. In a word: hardcore.
Instead of being turned off, Cynthia felt something ignite. As a Champion seasoned by countless trials, she knew only challenge and adversity drive rapid growth. If everything's smooth sailing, even high skill caps don't translate to true power. At her level, almost nothing poses a hurdle—but this game had just handed her one.
She exhaled, reset mentally, and decided: if the rival's a level higher, she'd grind a bit in the grass, learn a new move or two, and try again. When overmatched, the best answer is to get stronger, then come back.
She stepped out of the Center and started farming wilds in the nearby grass—Rattata, Poochyena, Pidgey, Wurmple… everything that spawned got flattened.
Ten minutes later, another Poochyena fell and Treecko hit level 12. A prompt popped:
[Your Pokémon has reached the current level cap: 12. You must reach the next city to continue leveling.]
Chat took notice:
"There's a level cap?"
"I like it. Otherwise people will camp the starter zone to level 50 and steamroll the world. Boring."
"+1."
"Level 12 vs. that level 9 Torchic should be fine now, right?"
"Three levels up—you can probably tank four Embers. Lots of room to maneuver."
"If you lose this, I'll eat my hat."
Cynthia healed at the Center and returned to the northern grass to talk to her rival.
"Black-Haired Boy" blinked, then smiled:
"Huh? You've made real progress."
"But I don't slack off, either—I won't fall behind!"
"Our eyes met. Let's battle!"
Cynthia stared at the screen, focused. Treecko was now level 12 and had learned two new moves: Mega Drain and Detect.
This time, for sure.
The music swelled again. Prompt:
[Rival: Black-Haired Boy challenges you!]
He tossed the Poké Ball. White light flashed. Torchic appeared—same as before.
Except… one thing wasn't the same.
Its level indicator:
Lv. 13.
Cynthia: ??????
Chat: ??????
Bro. The player grinds, and you grind too?
You serious??