The next day turned out to be a rare sunny day.
As usual, as soon as dawn broke, Hora headed out carrying his worn-out bamboo fishing rod. Entering the forest near Pallet Town, his shoulders slumped, his eyes filled with a frustration he couldn't hide. For the past three years, "fishing" had become a fixed part of his life, yet he hadn't seen so much as a shadow of the Golden Magikarp.
His father was a biologist who spent most of his year buried in research labs. His mother was a Pallet Town native and a trainer who had traveled through many regions in her youth; she only settled down and returned to Pallet Town after meeting his father.
This forest was the only significant woodland outside Pallet Town, inhabited by many low-level Pokémon. Beyond this forest lay Mt. Moon and the Mt. Quena range. Fortunately, most of the little creatures here were mild-tempered and would actively avoid humans, which kept Hora's three-year "fishing career" free from danger.
Stepping over grass damp with morning dew, Hora walked the familiar path to the fixed fishing spot marked by the System. With a flick of the rod, the line and hook hit the water with a "thud," sending out small ripples. He sat on a nearby rock, staring blankly at the water, unable to resist asking the System again: "System, oh System, is your positioning really correct? I'm starting my journey next month. I'm running out of time."
"Please do not question the accuracy and authority of this System," the mechanical voice repeated, as emotionless as ever.
Hora rolled his eyes and sighed in resignation. "I knew asking was useless." He pulled down his sun hat. It had rained in Pallet Town for a week straight, and now that it had cleared up, the sun felt like it was trying to make up for lost time. The heat was stifling, and he was glad he'd remembered his hat.
Time slipped away. The sun rose higher, but the only movement in the creek was the occasional shadow of a Goldeen darting past. Hora sat on the rock, nodding off. His eyelids grew heavy, but just as he was about to fall over, two crisp "beep-beep" notification tones rang in his mind.
Immediately after, the System's mechanical voice sounded again, this time with an unprecedented sense of "urgency":
[Task Issued: Temporary Task]
Task Content: Obtain a Pokémon Egg (System has detected a rare individual Pokémon Egg born within the forest, Coordinates: X107, Y26).
Time Limit: 1 Day.
Task Reward: Random Hidden Machine (HM) Skill.
Hora snapped awake, bolting upright from the rock. His grip on the fishing rod slipped, and it hit the ground with a "clatter," sliding down the slope of the riverbank into the creek. It was quickly swept away by the murky current.
"Holy crap! My fishing rod!!!"
His instinct was to chase it, but the words "Rare Individual Pokémon Egg" and "HM Skill" hammered against his heart like a heavy mallet. After hesitating for two seconds, Hora grit his teeth—the rod could be replaced, but a rare egg and an HM were once-in-a-lifetime opportunities!
He sprinted toward the coordinates. Dozens of meters away lay the dense part of the forest. Parting the waist-high grass, Hora peered through, and his face instantly turned pale.
Before him stood a lush, towering tree. Hanging among the branches were several silvery-white silk cocoons. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, illuminating the faint outlines of Pokémon eggs curled inside.
And flying around the tree were several Beedrill. Their yellow-and-black striped abdomens gleamed coldly, their long stingers jabbed out rhythmically, and the "buzzing" of their wings could be heard clearly from a distance.
"System... you're a real dog!" Hora hissed, his teeth itching with rage. "It's one thing to trick me into fishing for three years, but now you want me to steal a Beedrill's egg? Do you think I'm not dying fast enough???"
"Beep. System is locking onto the target... Target locked. Analyzing feasible paths... Analysis complete. Please execute the task immediately. Countdown starting..."
"Motherf—! There's a time limit too?! I haven't even prepared tools and you're starting the clock?!"
Hora couldn't help but curse, but his body moved honestly as he crouched down. The strategy provided by the System appeared clearly in his mind: Circle around the shrubs on the west side to the shaded back of the tree; there is a small hole washed out by rain that leads directly under the branch with the largest cocoon. The Beedrill change guards every ten minutes, leaving a thirty-second blind spot during the transition...
More importantly, he couldn't give up. Although his parents had already paid the League fee so he could receive a Starter Pokémon, those were merely "stable in potential," far from "rare."
In his previous life, he had been an ordinary nobody, living for over seventy years in loneliness. In this life, he had a System and a warm home. He wanted to win at the starting line—especially since he didn't want to compromise his life later, he had to seize every opportunity to become stronger.
Taking a deep breath to settle his nerves, Hora stayed low and crept along the route marked by the System to the west side of the tree. The leaves of the bushes scratched his arms, cold and itchy, but his eyes were locked on the Beedrill. He didn't dare blink.
The "Guard Change Countdown" ticked in the corner of his vision, each second feeling ten times longer than usual.
"5, 4, 3..." Hora counted in his head, his knuckles white.
Just as the timer hit zero, the Beedrill landed on the trunk simultaneously, touching antennae as if exchanging information. Their gaze was fixed toward the edge of the forest, completely oblivious to the figure emerging from the shadows behind the tree.
"Now!" Hora held his breath and crawled toward the small hole. It was a half-meter wide dirt tunnel, likely left behind by a collapsed root after the rain, just big enough for him to squeeze through.
The hole smelled of damp earth. He moved forward a few steps and looked up, seeing the largest silk cocoon right above him. This cocoon was significantly larger than the others, its walls glowing with a faint luminescence. He could see the patterns on the egg inside—clearly the "rare individual" the System mentioned.
He pulled a small knife from his pocket (one he'd brought for protection while fishing) and reached up carefully. The silk was tougher than he expected; the blade only left a shallow mark, making a faint "scritch" sound.
"Damn it!"
Hora's heart jumped. Sure enough, a Beedrill mid-rotation suddenly moved, its antennae snapping toward his direction. The frequency of its wingbeats accelerated instantly into a sharp, piercing buzz.
They heard him!
With no time to hesitate, Hora lunged with all his might, burying the blade deep into the cocoon. This time it sliced open, and the Pokémon egg lost its support, falling toward him. He reacted instantly, freeing a hand to catch it. The egg was heavier than expected, the shell still warm from the silk, covered in pale purple spiral patterns that shimmered in the dim light of the hole.
"Got it!"
Before he could celebrate, a massive "BZZZ" exploded above him. A Beedrill had already dived to the mouth of the hole, its long stinger thrusting straight toward his shoulder!
Hora instinctively pulled back into the depths of the hole. The stinger grazed his collar and stabbed into the mud, splashing dirt onto his face.