Shellby may have been a kindhearted man, but Tetsuya had overlooked one important fact: kindhearted people were often conservative and afraid of trouble.
If Tetsuya were already ten years old, Mr. Shellby might have agreed to let him stay right away. But a man so honest and upright simply didn't have the courage to break the League's rules.
After much hesitation, Shellby suddenly said, "…Here's an idea. I could adopt you. That way, you wouldn't have to go to the orphanage!"
It seemed like the perfect solution to Mr. Shellby.
Tetsuya wasn't moved. His spirits hit rock bottom, but he couldn't say much.
If it were a regular orphan from an ordinary family, the orphanage would be eager for someone to adopt them, it'd save them some food money. But in Tetsuya's case, they'd definitely investigate the assets in his name.
And then things would get complicated. They would go to any lengths to prevent anyone from adopting him. And someone as soft and indecisive as Mr. Shellby would fold under pressure, without a doubt. So Tetsuya didn't hold out any hope for that option.
Better to rely on himself than others.
"Thank you…"
---◓---
Tetsuya left right after that, hurrying back to Ecruteak City.
It was now clear his initial strategy had been wrong. These so-called "kind souls" were nothing more than law-abiding citizens. Asking them to bend the rules was asking too much.
But if he waived the pay, maybe some profit-driven small factories would be willing to give him a Work ID…
By the time he returned to Ecruteak City, it was already noon.
For lunch, Tetsuya had dango that cost just five Pokédollars. Meanwhile, Ditto went through three bottles of milk, costing fifteen.
Ditto's daily food expenses alone came to around fifty Pokédollars. And that was considered a light eater. For Pokémon with bigger appetites, the cost would be even higher. And this was just the upkeep for one Pokémon.
It was clear just how high the cost of raising a Pokémon really was. Just feeding and providing medical care for a single Ditto would come to about two thousand Pokédollars a month. A standard Trainer needed six Pokémon, meaning monthly upkeep alone would be twelve thousand. And that was the bare minimum.
For reference, the average monthly wage for a working-class person was just five thousand Pokédollars.
Including normal household expenses, there was simply no way a working-class family could afford to support a Pokémon Trainer.
Of course, in the next ten-plus years, things would change. The League would implement incentives and supportive policies, making it slightly cheaper to raise Pokémon.
But there had to be a balance.
If everyone ran off to become Pokémon Trainers, who would maintain the foundational industries? Still, having too few Trainers was also a problem, since many jobs did require them. But that was a topic for another time…
Back to the point. Given that "raising" a Pokémon Trainer was such a massive investment -and came with so many risks- why did so many people still rush into it?
Because high risk meant high reward!
Any job related to Pokémon paid at least three times more than ordinary work. Most ordinary Trainers were employed as security for large-scale construction projects.
For example, power plants, river-crossing bridges, highways, mountain roads, railways, and dams. All of these disrupted Pokémon habitats and were often attacked. That's when Pokémon Trainers working as security could step in and do their job.
Those a step higher were Trainers who placed in regional League tournaments or competitions. Their jobs came with even better benefits; typically working in regional security roles, and some even assisted Officer Jenny in law enforcement. Reaching this level meant significant perks and a far better life than any average worker.
If someone placed in the top three of a regional League event… that was a complete turning point. Talents like that would be directly recruited by the League to serve as Rangers, Investigators, and other elite positions. High salaries, excellent benefits, and a guaranteed lifelong position within the League.
That was the dream of every aspiring Pokémon Trainer!
As for Gym Leaders, almost all the positions were held by major Families and Clans. These "Families" ran their own businesses and were always in alignment with the League. The anti-League Families had long since been wiped out, and as long as no major scandal occurred, the Gym Leader title remained hereditary.
A Gym in a city meant economic growth and status. It was a symbol of prosperity. Naturally, the position of Gym Leader carried enormous prestige.
Ordinary people weren't completely barred from becoming Gym Leaders. But they had to be extremely accomplished, placing in the top three of at least five regional League tournaments and making significant contributions to the League.
In his previous life, Tetsuya had published theories on Egg Grouping and Egg Moves, combined with his tournament achievements, to apply for a Gym Leader position.
To qualify, he had been forced to challenge various regional Leagues and invest nearly all his savings from twenty years as a Pokémon Hunter to train his team.
But in the end, it had been worth it…
Once he became a Gym Leader, he opened a few Daycares through his position, and with the League salary and benefits, he made back everything he spent within just two years.
That comparison said it all.
Two years as a Gym Leader repaid twenty years of blood, sweat, and danger!
And as for the Elite Four or Champions… those at the top of the pyramid received a constant flow of resources from the bottom. The taxes and protection fees paid from every region each year were astronomical.
In short, becoming an ordinary Pokémon Trainer in this world burned through money.
Becoming a "powerful" Pokémon Trainer burned through mountains of it.
But once success and value were achieved, the money would come back quickly.
So for Tetsuya, becoming a Trainer was a double-edged Honedge, entirely for fame and fortune.
---◓---
Another day of hard work brought nothing. While some small factories had been overjoyed when Tetsuya said he didn't need pay, none were willing to risk giving him a Work ID.
Two days gone. If tomorrow didn't bring success, he would set out on his own. At least he still had over twenty thousand Pokédollars in cash. Worst case, he'd return in three years to unfreeze his assets. It would be far from ideal, but it was the only option left.
Tetsuya had already prepared for the worst.
That evening, he didn't even feel like browsing the Black Market. Back home, he turned on the TV, only to make Ditto transform into the various items shown on screen.
On the third day, Tetsuya once again visited every small and big factory in Ecruteak City, and once again came back empty-handed.
At this point, Tetsuya had essentially given up…
Now, he planned to buy a Spatial Backpack, a few extra Poké Balls, plus medicine, food, and wilderness survival gear. 'It would be a major expense…'
Once he packed all usable supplies, the next day he would file the report, cremate the old man's body, and immediately leave Ecruteak City.
And once he left, his top priority would be earning money. The cash he had wouldn't last more than a month.
As he mentally listed everything he needed to buy, he was just about to step into a backpack store. An ojisan with his head lowered slipped a small card into Tetsuya's hand without a word, then turned and walked away…