However, in the past three years, Zero had never once been wrong. Its assessments were based on Tetsuya's own knowledge system, so even if there was an error, this Pidgey was at the very least on the verge of being pseudo-king level.
And that meant funding for future Pokémon training wouldn't be as tight.
Tetsuya didn't hesitate—he bought the Pidgey egg.
His instincts—and Zero's analysis—were soon proven right. The Pidgey was stronger, faster, and larger than its peers.
Tetsuya carefully raised it according to the larval training program provided by Zero, investing most of his savings into its development.
Soon, Pidgey advanced past its hatchling stage and officially became a novice Pokémon.
By then, it had already mastered Tackle, Growl, Sand Attack, and an inherited move—Twister.
Even more importantly, it possessed a hidden ability—Big Pecks, which greatly enhanced its durability.
This was probably why Zero had ranked its potential so high.
Twister, a Dragon-type move, intrigued Tetsuya. He theorized that some unknown Dragon-type Pokémon had once bred with a Pidgeot, leading to this Pidgey's unique abilities and enhanced physique.
Most likely, it had been a wild Pidgeot, considering the vendor had probably been unable to defeat it and its flock.
Under Tetsuya's scientific training regimen, Pidgey grew significantly larger than others of its species.
Even so, Tetsuya didn't rush into Viridian Forest for missions right away. He knew better.
Survival had taught him a hard lesson—without strength, recklessness led to death. His first Pokémon, Rattata, had proved that.
So he played it safe.
He trained and battled on the outskirts of the forest, sticking to controlled environments.
Not until Pidgey reached level 15, officially graduating from the novice tier, did Tetsuya finally make a decision. With his savings dwindling, he gritted his teeth and returned to the Bounty Hunter Guild.
Even then, he remained cautious.
Rather than taking high-level missions for quick profits, he methodically completed the lowest-tier E-rank missions first, deciding to wait until Pidgey evolved before advancing to D-rank.
Sure enough, within a month, Pidgey evolved into Pidgeotto, reaching level 18 in the process.
Only then did Tetsuya abandon E-rank missions—the payouts were too low.
Mission Payout Structure:
E-Rank: Less than 3,000 Pokédollars
D-Rank: Between 3,000 – 30,000 Pokédollars
C-Rank: Between 30,000 – 100,000 Pokédollars
B-Rank: Between 100,000 – 500,000 Pokédollars
A & S-Rank: Unknown (restricted due to hunter authority)
On average, a D-rank mission earned around 15,000 Pokédollars—far better than grinding through seven or eight E-rank jobs.
And so, Tetsuya and Pidgeotto officially began their journey as true bounty hunters.
Tetsuya snapped back to the present.
Considering Pidgeotto's superior potential, and the fact that he had struggled financially in the beginning, its growth had initially been slow due to a lack of resources.
Of course, slow was relative—compared to others of its species, its progress was exceptional.
Eventually, Pidgeotto reached level 25, strong enough to complete select C-rank missions. With Tetsuya investing heavily in its training, its strength began to soar, mastering more and more advanced techniques.
By his previous calculations, it would have taken another six months for Pidgeotto to evolve into Pidgeot and enter the pseudo-king tier.
But after today's events, that timeline might change.
Tetsuya couldn't stop smiling as he thought about today's haul.
Just from his missions and side earnings, he had netted a total of 512,000 Pokédollars on this adventure.
After subtracting the cost of supplies, he still had 500,000 Pokédollars left—nearly two months' worth of earnings in a single trip.
And that wasn't even the biggest prize.
His gaze flickered with heat.
Upstairs. Study.
Tetsuya carefully unzipped his backpack and pulled out his most valuable find—a bright orange-yellow stone, its surface flickering with an ethereal flame.
A Fire Stone.
Zero's panel had assessed its quality at 89 points—an astonishing rating considering a perfect Fire Stone was only 100 points.
This thing was worth a fortune.
He recalled a post he had seen on the Pokémon Trainer Forum—somebody had been offering 20 million Pokédollars for an ordinary Fire Stone. Higher-quality ones?
Priceless.
Considering his Fire Stone was elite-tier, it could easily fetch upwards of 40 million Pokédollars.
Fire-type Pokémon were highly coveted, and a Fire Stone could dramatically boost a Pokémon's fire energy reserves. It was also a mandatory evolution item for certain species.
Vulpix and Growlithe, for example.
Ninetales was elegant and cunning.
Arcanine was majestic and powerful.
Both were favorites among the elite and wealthy, making high-quality Fire Stones one of the most sought-after evolutionary items in the world.
Tetsuya still couldn't believe his luck.
He had originally just wanted to steal some Beedrill honey after a foolish trainer had provoked the swarm, weakening the hive's defenses.
Hunter forums were filled with stories like this—rookies making mistakes, and seasoned hunters profiting from the aftermath.
The honey itself was already valuable—used in high-end cosmetics and supplements, it was always in high demand.
But finding a Fire Stone in a Beedrill nest?
That was insane.
Now, he had a decision to make.
As much as he wanted to keep the Fire Stone for a future Fire-type Pokémon, he had to be realistic.
His ideal Fire-type for his team would be Blaziken or Charizard—neither of which required a Fire Stone for evolution.
He could use it to rapidly enhance a Fire-type's strength, but that felt wasteful when he didn't even have a Fire-type Pokémon yet.
His only real option was to sell the Fire Stone, then use the funds to acquire a Torchic or Charmander egg from the black market.
With Zero's ability, he could identify top-tier eggs, ensuring he picked one with exceptional potential.
It was a tough choice—keep the Fire Stone, or sell it and invest in a future powerhouse?
Of course, Growlithe was another tempting option, but that came with its own problems.
Wild Growlithe were incredibly rare and considered legendary Pokémon in some cultures. Most were controlled by the Juniper family.
If a civilian managed to obtain a Growlithe, the Juniper family would show up immediately, offering a deal:
Join them—or hand over the Growlithe.
Many considered this an opportunity—a chance to marry into the Juniper or even the Joy family.
For now, that kind of luxury was still far beyond his reach.
Tetsuya stared at the Fire Stone, torn between options.
He had a choice to make—but which path was the right one?
Tetsuya thought for a moment before deciding to hold onto the Fire Stone for now.
There was no need to rush his decision.
Whether he saved it to accelerate the growth of a future Fire-type powerhouse or sold it to buy a high-quality Pokémon egg, the difference wasn't that significant in the long run.
For now, his top priority was strengthening Pidgeotto—or, better yet, evolving it into Pidgeot as soon as possible.
With today's unexpected windfall, he had extra funds to invest directly into Pidgeotto's training.
Once it evolved, he would have the confidence to tackle more difficult C-rank missions—maybe even B-rank. That, in turn, would make raising his next Pokémon much easier.
Only after that would he revisit the question of the Fire Stone. Either way, selling it wouldn't be an issue.
Tetsuya carefully wrapped the Fire Stone and tucked it into the inner pocket of his jacket, keeping it close to his body.
There was no way he was leaving something so valuable in his home safe. Who knew when a thief might break in?
Not to mention the wild Pokémon that lurked around the outskirts. Pokémon like Meowth were notorious for their thieving skills.
With that settled, Tetsuya booted up his PokéCom.
He intended to study battle strategies before bed—definitely not procrastinate by watching videos.
The Trainer Forums had a wealth of knowledge. Many top-tier trainers uploaded their battle recordings for younger trainers to learn from, though access required a fee based on the trainer's rank.
Only those who had at least three pseudo-king Pokémon—trainers at the pseudo-king level—were allowed to sell battle footage.
Tetsuya planned to watch those later.
For now, something else caught his attention.
A brightly pinned post sat at the top of the forum homepage:
"Selling Precious Items – All Transactions Must Be Conducted in Self-Written Threads."
Trainers frequently sold their loot here—mostly battle items and equipment.
Evolution Stones were rare finds, and even those posted for sale didn't match the quality of Tetsuya's Fire Stone.
Still, Tetsuya habitually browsed, keeping an eye out for anything useful.
Soon, his eyes locked onto a listing.
"Sharp Beak for Sale – No Trades. DM Offers. Seller: ClownCrawling."
A Flying-type battle item.
Tetsuya distinctly remembered not seeing this post a few days ago. A quick check confirmed it had been posted just yesterday—meaning it was still available.
Boost Effect: 6%.
Tetsuya frowned slightly. No wonder.
Items that boosted type-based moves, like Charcoal or Miracle Seed, typically ranged from 5% to 20% in effectiveness. Their prices varied accordingly.
Through research, it had been established that most items provided at least a 10% boost—those were classified as standard battle items.
A rare few offered less than 10%, making them "defective" battle items.
This Sharp Beak fell into that category. Tetsuya had only ever seen one like it in his sixteen years in this world.
Still, rarity could work in his favor. Items like these never lost value—even if they were harder to resell.
Besides, anything that made Pidgeotto stronger was a win. If he needed to, he could sell it later.
If the Sharp Beak had been stronger, the price would have been out of his budget anyway. He would have had to admire it from afar rather than actually buy it.
Tetsuya scrolled down, checking the latest offers.
Most hovered around 1.8 million Pokédollars.
That lined up with his expectations.
For reference, an 8% power boost item had previously sold for just under 3 million.
And 10% items? Those were worth at least 8 million Pokédollars—sometimes hitting 10 million if supply was low.
The real top-tier battle items, like Dragon Fang and Twisted Spoon, could cost twice as much for the same power boost.
But why was the price gap so massive when the actual boost difference was just a few percentage points?
Simple: Energy Science.
According to Professor Oak's research, battle items didn't just increase power—they enhanced skill efficiency on an entirely different level.
Take two identical items:
One with an 8% boost
One with a 10% boost
If a 60-power move were amplified:
The 8% item would raise it to 64.8 power
The 10% item would raise it to 66 power
On paper, that difference was tiny.
But in real combat, something weird happened.
Controlled Experiment Results:
No item vs. No item → Equal power.
No item vs. 8% item → 8% item had slightly higher damage output.
No item vs. 10% item → 10% item had even higher damage.
8% item vs. 10% item → The 10% item caused damage despite supposed energy cancellation.
12% item vs. 10% item → The 12% item retained energy post-collision.
In short, normal battle items didn't just boost raw damage—they altered move interactions in ways defective items couldn't.
That's why their prices skyrocketed.
Tetsuya wasn't a researcher, so he didn't fully understand the energy mechanics behind it. But the results were undeniable.
Even a 2% difference in boost power could determine the outcome of a battle.
Back to business.
Tetsuya sent the seller a direct message with his offer.
He was prepared to spend 2 million Pokédollars, leaving 400,000 in reserve.
Though it wouldn't be much use against skilled trainers, it would make fighting wild Pokémon easier, helping him complete missions and stack more cash.
A solid investment.
The reply came instantly.
Tetsuya's face darkened.
…
This damn clown.