Traditional fanfics give their protagonists one of three things from the start: a Starter Pokémon, a Gengar, or a Legendary Pokémon dropped right in their lap. It's satisfying, sure, but you can see the whole plot coming from a mile away.
Shen Zhishuo's start is even more ridiculous: a shiny Dreepy, a rare pseudo-Legendary baby so coveted it makes people jealous, but also so “fragile” it could fall apart at any moment. It's not aggressive; it's terrified of itself. Ghost-types read emotions, so the more nervous you get, the more out of control it becomes. Forcing it back into its ball with a sedative could trap its rampaging spiritual energy inside its body and ruin it for good.
In his previous life, he was an esports tactical analyst. His greatest strength wasn't “knowing the answers,” but breaking chaos down into procedures and risks into manageable steps. After he transmigrates, he quickly pinpoints the real problem: three years of expensive nutritional supplements have built a top-of-the-line “engine,” but almost no training has left its bones and muscles unable to handle its natural speed. This isn't a case of failing to control a Ghost-type; this pseudo-Legendary has been raised into a race car ready to fall apart at any moment.
Others can throw resources at the problem or rely on raw talent. He has to win with method: pacing, timing, risk tolerance, and iteration, turning “accidents” into “engineering.”
The more pressing problem is that he's broke. After his parents' research institute collapsed in an “accident,” his assets were frozen and his social connections severed. Even feeding his Pokémon means measuring out every Pokéblock precisely. A shiny pseudo-Legendary is a lottery ticket to others, but a debt to him, and his only chance to turn things around.
Then someone mentions a “ring” in an unnervingly precise, businesslike tone. Beneath the frozen seal on the bottom of a Poke Ball, fragments of characters that don't belong to any League identification number lie hidden, as if someone is in a hurry to cover up the truth.
Shen Zhishuo understands: this is no simple training accident.
In fact, it is very strange at first glance. There is a lot of English in it that is completely unnecessary, and the author's control of language is also very strange. Later, I saw that the "dead line" was almost definitely translated, and deadline was translated into dead line. The writing is pretty good, but stealing the fruits of other people's work is a bit too much.