Waking up in a hospital bed is a universal experience in suckiness. The smell of antiseptic, the scratchy wool blankets, and the delightful sensation of being wrapped in more gauze than a cut-rate mummy.
"Damn, I am an idiot," I croaked, my throat feeling like I'd swallowed a handful of Viridian Forest pine needles.
"Hello, Host. Welcome to the Pokémon world."
"AAHHH!"
I bolted upright, which was a mistake because my ribs immediately lodged a formal protest. I flailed, nearly knocking over a water pitcher.
"Calm down, Host. I am Neptuno111. Your System. No need for the theatrics."
I stared into the empty air where a translucent blue window was hovering. A voice in my head? A floating screen? I've read enough fanfic to know where this was going, but seeing it while high on hospital-grade painkillers was a different breed of weird.
"Talking to a screen must be weird," the voice mused. "Right. Let me change my form."
With a soft pop, the screen vanished, replaced by a small, floating Panda. It looked soft, round, and had eyes so large they were borderline manipulative.
"Now you wouldn't feel weird, would you?" the panda—who I decided to call Nelly—asked, tilting its head.
"Cute," I muttered, my 'sucker for soft things' instinct warring with my 'this is a hallucination' instinct. I cleared my throat, trying to regain my girl-boss composure. "What am I doing here? Why was I brought here? And don't give me the 'chosen one' speech; I have a low tolerance for cliché."
"I know it is not pleasant news, but you died," Nelly said, her voice soothing. "But look at the bright side: second chance. New world. No taxes yet."
"Many people love Pokémon," I challenged, my voice cracking slightly despite my best efforts. "Why me?"
"Because you have teeth, Regina," Nelly said, floating closer. "In your past life, you were willing to fight against anything you perceived as wrong. You are cunning, ambitious, and you don't back down. Plus, my scans show you're a perfect fit for the role I need you to play."
"And what's the catch?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Nobody gives out a second life and a floating panda for free. What do I have to do in return for this 'help'?"
"Smart girl," Nelly chuckled. "I provide benefits, but you provide results. You'll be tasked with dismantling criminal organizations. This world is rotting at the seams, Regina. Thugs, smugglers, corrupt officials—they need a scalpel. Or a sledgehammer. I think you're the latter."
Dismantling criminal syndicates? I looked at my bandaged hands. I'd just been beaten up by three guys in an alley. But the thought of a world where I could actually do something—where I wasn't just another girl on a skateboard being told to 'smile more'—made my blood hum.
"Fine. I'm in."
"Wonderful. First step: knowledge."
Suddenly, a white-hot spike of pain slammed into my skull. It felt like someone was trying to download the entire Library of Congress through a straw. Images, biological data, Type effectiveness charts, and obscure evolutionary methods seared into my brain.
When the world stopped spinning, I looked down. The crimson Torchic from the alley was curled up on the foot of my bed, its deep red feathers glowing in the hospital lights. I focused on it, and a HUD appeared in my vision.
[Data Scan: Torchic]
Color: Odd (Rarity: Exotic/Beyond Shiny)
Level: 10
Nature: Adamant (+Atk, -Sp.Atk)
Class: Elite Class
Ability: Blaze
Moves: Growl, Scratch, Ember, Quick Attack, Flame Charge, Flamethrower, Peck.
Egg Moves (Locked): Night Slash, Counter.
Elite class? This little nugget was a powerhouse in the making. And according to the ranking system Nelly just dumped in my head—Normal, Gym, Elite, Champion, Legend, God—this bird had a ceiling high enough to touch the moon.
The Professor's Proposition
The police inquiry was a headache. Apparently, the thugs were part of a smuggling ring, and they'd tried to mug me for my savings just because I looked like an easy target. Typical.
I was about to be discharged when the door opened. An older woman stepped in. She walked with a poise that screamed 'old money and high levels,' her face a map of elegant wrinkles.
"Hello, child," she said, her eyes landing on the Torchic, which was currently trying to burrow into my hoodie. "I see this little one is quite attached to you."
"She—he," I corrected, feeling the heat from the Torchic's flame sac against my ribs. "He saved my life. I'm not just handing him over."
"He is from my breeding center," the woman said. "I am Professor Linda Leroz. I own the largest ranch in the region and head the G-Pro organization."
My memory-implant kicked in. Linda Leroz wasn't just a professor; she was on the level of Oak, but far more exclusive. She sponsored the last Pokémon Master. She was the gatekeeper to the big leagues.
"I feel you might be someone great one day," she continued, her gaze piercing. "But I don't give away Elite-class Pokémon to just anyone. Here is the deal: The Pokémon licensing test is next week. Place in the top 5, and you join G-Pro—the league's investigative wing. If you place in the top 3, I will personally sponsor your journey."
"And if I want to enter the League too?" I asked, my inner feminist rising. I wasn't going to be just a 'G-Woman' following orders. I wanted the title.
"If you can handle both, be my guest," she smiled.
The Grind
The next week was a blur of caffeine and ink. I moved into a cheap hostel, nursing my bruises and my pride. I studied like my life depended on it—mostly because, with Nelly's tasks looming, it probably did.
I had to be careful, though. I had knowledge of future evolutions and hidden abilities that hadn't been "discovered" yet in this timeline. If I wrote down everything I knew, I'd be kidnapped by a research lab within the hour. I had to play it smart—win the top spot, gain Linda's trust, and then slowly "discover" new data to fund my lifestyle.
I sat at the desk, Torchic nuzzling my arm, smelling like burnt cinnamon and sunshine.
"Don't worry, little guy," I whispered, scratching him under the beak. "We're going to be rich. And then we're going to buy the most expensive, fashion-forward accessories this world has ever seen. And maybe a new skateboard. One with rocket boosters."
He chirped, a tiny spark of fire dancing in his eyes. First place was the only option. I didn't come to a new world to be a background character. I came here to run the show.