To be honest, raising Pokémon—
especially raising a Pokémon well—
was never an easy task.
Of course, if you simply let them roam freely,
never putting in any real effort…
That was a different story.
But Trainers like that were failures.
They would never earn a Pokémon's recognition.
If someone tried to become a so-called "capitalist" in the Pokémon world—
using harsh conditions and extreme exploitation to squeeze value out of their Pokémon—
The result wouldn't be extra profit.
It would be one of two outcomes:
Either the Pokémon would abandon them outright.
Or Officer Jenny would arrive with righteous judgment and shut everything down.
Did people really think Poké Balls had mind-control or brainwashing effects?
They didn't.
The only reason Pokémon were willing to listen after being caught
was because, by nature, they were kind creatures—
creatures willing to help humans.
Legends from ancient regions spoke of it clearly:
How do Pokémon help humans best?
When humans step into the tall grass, we step forward to meet them.
That was why wild Pokémon often appeared on their own before rookie Trainers.
You thought they were ambushing humans?
No.
They were simply trying to help.
Pokémon were, quite literally, little angels.
"No matter what," Serena muttered,
"game mechanics and the real world are still different things."
"If someone truly became rotten enough to exploit their Pokémon,
they might as well start picking which streetlight they'd hang from."
She understood this very clearly.
Only sincerity could raise Pokémon properly.
Even in her old world,
people who couldn't take care of cats or dogs were considered unfit to keep pets at all.
Serena wasn't some extreme animal-lover.
But when a living being entrusted its strength, its safety,
and its very existence to her—
Returning that trust with care felt only natural.
That bond between lives
was something that couldn't be faked.
"That said…"
"Raising Gible isn't something I can solve with good intentions alone."
She rubbed her chin, deep in thought.
"Ababa~~~"
Nearby, Gible—
a textbook example of a simple-minded land shark—
had finished training, eaten its fill, and entered full idle mode.
Mind blank.
Eyes unfocused.
Spirit wandering beyond the heavens.
But Serena, as a Trainer, couldn't afford to do the same.
If she wanted to support Gible's growth
using only her limited student allowance,
It came down to four words:
Increase income. Reduce expenses.
Reducing expenses…
She had already cut costs as much as possible.
Whatever she ate, Gible ate.
Sometimes, whatever Gible ate,
she didn't even get to eat herself.
How much further could she possibly cut?
Was she supposed to survive for months on plain buns and pickled vegetables,
wash it down with cold water,
and funnel everything else into Gible's training?
That life sounded downright miserable.
"You useless Pokémon Editor system…"
"Can't you come with some extra cheats?"
"Like game design scripts, novel databases, music libraries, movie archives—anything?"
Serena pressed her fingers against her temples.
From all the novels she'd read online,
classic money-making paths for transmigrators were obvious:
Copying novels
Developing games
Making films
But all of that relied on preloaded databases inside the system.
Without that—
Relying on vague memories alone,
recreating successful works with accuracy was nearly impossible.
Some stories even had absurd systems:
Lose money to earn more.
Spend recklessly to receive a hundredfold return.
Utter nonsense.
To enjoy those stories,
you had to leave your brain somewhere else before reading.
Thinking about it calmly now,
Serena realized something unsettling.
Her so-called "standard transmigrator cheat"
wasn't actually that overpowered.
Especially when so many core features were still locked.
No stat modification.
No ability editing.
No advanced Pokémon manipulation.
"…Is this one of those infamously weak systems?"
She sighed.
A disgracefully useless system.