Ever since I bought that beat-up bootleg Pokemon Red cartridge at a flea market, hoping to trigger the bug and recreate an urban legend, relive the nostalgia, everything has gone to hell.
All I wanted was to test out the urban legends from the very first version, and revisit Pokemon, the game I'd devoted countless hours of my youth to and was still obsessed with. But in the end, I became an urban legend about transmigration myself.
And the world I ended up in isn't entirely like the warm, innocent fairy tale of the anime. Every urban legend I'd collected here has actually happened, right before my eyes.
Life has been full of dramatic ups and downs. The one thing I'm most grateful for is that all the Pokemon and items on my cartridge came with me. Thinking of the boxes of Pokemon (and Legendary Pokemon) I'd carefully selected, trained to the highest level, and raised to maximum friendship, I smiled with satisfaction.
They can be fierce, cute, cool, or gentle. They can fight on the battlefield and cook in the kitchen. With companions this adorable, what do I have to fear?
But why, when I'm investigating urban legends and livestreaming, do I keep getting dragged into temporary transmigrations?
I gaze at the endless ocean / the towering trees of the forest / the modern city echoing with explosions / ... / and silently throw a Poke Ball.
There's nothing a max-level battle Pokemon can't solve. And if there is, just send out another one.