Tetsuya pondered for a moment, turned on his computer, and started planning.
This world was real. Trainers who specialized in a single type had advantages in the early stages—training methods and resources were more unified, and battles were simpler. Because of this, many elite trainers chose to focus on one type to quickly build their strength. Although training styles varied, the fundamentals remained the same, allowing them to form a solid combat force more efficiently.
However, the more powerful a trainer was, the less likely they were to stick to a single type. Even those specializing in Dragon-types often incorporated Pokémon with secondary typings to balance their team.
There were several reasons for this, the first being resources. It was nearly impossible to ensure that six primary Pokémon of the same type would always have access to the necessary training materials. The items found during adventures were diverse, and even through trading, acquiring everything needed for one specific type was difficult. This was especially true for rare Pokémon, as their required resources were hard to come by, even with money.
The second reason was tactics. A team with a single type had predictable strategies. Additionally, type matchups played a crucial role in battle. When strength levels were close, type effectiveness could determine victory or defeat. A certain Flying-type Champion had demonstrated this principle perfectly.
Lastly, single-type teams often lacked versatility, which was particularly dangerous for trainers who lived and traveled in the wild. A lack of coverage meant vulnerability, and in the wilderness, vulnerability could mean death.
With these factors in mind, Tetsuya used the team-building strategy from a game he had played in his previous life, dividing Pokémon roles into categories like tank, bruiser, warrior, mage, and support. However, it wasn't a strict classification.
For example, the support role. While Tetsuya wanted a Chansey to act as the team's healer, that was almost an impossible dream due to the Joy family's monopoly on the species. He'd be better off learning medical skills himself.
As for Pokémon with healing abilities, there were options—such as Gardevoir, one of the top ten Pokémon he absolutely wanted on his team. However, obtaining one wasn't easy. Easier than Chansey, sure, but still a challenge.
This meant that, for now, the support role was practically nonexistent. Unless Tetsuya got extremely lucky, he would have to wait a long time to fill that gap.
Shifting his focus, he analyzed Pidgeot's role in his team and found that, for now, it was more of an assassin with insufficient damage output. Pidgeot could use Quick Attack and other speed-based techniques to strike swiftly and retreat, while also utilizing mid-to-long-range attacks for harassment. In the wild, it served as an excellent scout and mode of transportation.
However, its damage output was lacking. Once it learned moves like Tailwind and Brave Bird, it could truly become a one-hit killer against equal-level opponents. But for now, it was incomplete.
With this in mind, Tetsuya decided his second Pokémon needed to be a warrior—a frontliner with strong melee capabilities, high endurance, and enough power to quickly eliminate threats.
This significantly narrowed his options, and he frowned as he made adjustments on his computer.
For a frontline fighter, Fighting-types or Pokémon with strong physical attacks were ideal.
Lucario's pre-evolution, Riolu, was a great choice—but obtaining one was extremely difficult, so he set it aside for now.
Nidoking was a solid contender, but it required a Moon Stone to evolve, and those were more expensive than Fire Stones. Pass.
Scyther? Too fragile. Pass. Same for Magmar.
Poliwhirl? Same problem as Nidoking. Pass.
Rhydon was promising, but while Tetsuya knew it evolved into Rhyperior, he had no idea how to trigger the evolution. That kind of knowledge wasn't public. Pass.
Machamp? Same problem as Rhydon. Pass.
Snorlax? Too expensive. Definitely not an option.
After filtering through his choices, only two remained—Electabuzz and Blaziken.
It wasn't that these were the only viable options, but rather that Tetsuya had deliberately eliminated others. For instance, Hitmonchan was viable, but… well, Tetsuya simply didn't like it. Not stylish enough. No other reason.
Electabuzz had another advantage—Tetsuya knew its evolution method. In his previous life, he had looked it up because he thought Electivire was incredibly cool. He knew that Electabuzz evolved when holding an Electirizer.
The good news was that Electirizers weren't outrageously expensive. Most trainers didn't even know they could trigger evolution, and those who did weren't willing to risk raising suspicion by paying a premium for them. As a result, the market price remained reasonable. A rare advantage.
Blaziken, on the other hand, had no such hurdles. Torchic eggs were expensive, but the evolution process was straightforward—no special items required.
In the end, the investment for both Pokémon was roughly the same. Torchic eggs cost more, but Electabuzz required an Electirizer.
Tetsuya stretched and checked the time.
Just sorting through options had taken an hour. It was already past nine o'clock. The sheer variety of Pokémon made the process exhausting.
He shut down his computer, took a shower, and went to bed. Tomorrow would be busy—morning training, selling the Fire Stone, then heading to the black market.
So much to do.
As he drifted off to sleep, his mind was a blur of plans and possibilities. Before long, he was out cold.
The next morning, Tetsuya emerged from the bathroom, having just finished his morning training.
After feeding Pidgeot and storing it in its Poké Ball, he made his way toward the trading center in the city's downtown district.
The trading center and bounty hunter center were located on opposite sides of the Pokémon Center.
Unlike bounty hunters, who focused on gathering raw materials for crafting, most items in the trading center were materials used for training and evolution.
Walking into the hall, Tetsuya was greeted by a massive digital screen displaying listings from trainers looking to buy or trade. Below it, rows of computers allowed trainers to search for specific keywords in real time to facilitate transactions.
The Pokémon Forum was only for information exchange and initial deal-making. Private trades were possible, but they came with risks. Most trainers preferred the security of the trading center, even if it meant paying a 1% transaction fee. Better safe than scammed.
Tetsuya headed to the appraisal counter first. After verifying the quality of his Fire Stone, he uploaded the certificate to the trading center's system and posted his listing:
"Selling Fire Stone (89 quality). Accepting cash or cash + materials (Electric or Fire-type)."
With that done, he settled into the waiting area, pulled up the forum, and prepared to wait for offers.
High-quality Fire Stones were always in high demand.
Tetsuya had barely been on the Pokémon Forum for a minute when his Poké-watch started ringing non-stop with notifications—quotes pouring in through the trading center's backend.
Even though he had expected some interest, he was still taken aback.
Seeing the message counter flash "99+" in his trading dashboard, he frowned. Something felt off.
Sure, high-quality Fire Stones were rare, but there shouldn't be this many people clamoring to buy one. And not this many with deep pockets.
Opening the offers, his expression darkened. Just as he suspected.
"10 million plus 10% Charcoal, final offer."
"20 million, can't go any higher, bro."
Tetsuya exhaled sharply and immediately edited his listing title—adding in bold: "No Clown Offers!!!"
To prevent further lowballing, he set a reserve price of 28 million. It was a painful lesson in market experience.
Rubbing his temples in frustration, he walked over to one of the trading terminals and began browsing the updated offers.
Thanks to the system's automatic filtering, only bids meeting his new reserve price were displayed. Refreshing the page, he now saw a much more reasonable list—twelve serious offers.
"30 million cash," "35 million cash," "32 million + 3 million worth of Chople Berries," "33 million + 2 million worth of Lum Berries"…
He systematically eliminated the lower bids, leaving only the three best offers:
"45 million cash"
"42 million cash + 3 million worth of Chople Berries"
"43 million cash + 2 million worth of Lum Berries"
Chople Berries were a well-known supplement for Fire-type Pokémon, enhancing their internal Fire energy. Lum Berries had a similar effect, but for Electric-types.
There were various other Energy Berries, such as Mystic Water for Water-types and Miracle Seeds for Grass-types. These were staple trade goods among elite trainers—valuable, but never in enough supply to meet demand.
More powerful variants existed, like Sandscale Berries or Dragonfire Berries, which could significantly enhance a Pokémon's abilities. However, these were only found in the wild, as no one had successfully cultivated them artificially.
Now, all three top offers were effectively equal in value—45 million total. The question was, which one should he take?
Tetsuya deliberated for a moment before settling on the pure cash offer.
Right now, he still hadn't decided on his second Pokémon. He needed to visit the black market to find one with outstanding potential. If he chose training materials now, he might have to exchange them later if they didn't fit. It was safer to take the money and buy what he needed when the time came.
Besides, early-stage training didn't require large amounts of Energy Berries, and they were a hassle to store. For now, he could just buy small quantities from the League Mall, albeit at a slightly higher unit price. When he needed more, he could return to the trading center.
With his decision made, Tetsuya confirmed the deal and handed the Fire Stone to the League staff.
After processing, three hours later, his account balance jumped by 44.55 million—after deducting the 1% transaction fee.
The process had been faster than usual since the buyer, based in the neighboring Cerulean City, had paid an extra 10,000 League Credits for express service.
Two hours later, the buyer confirmed receipt of the Fire Stone, and the money was officially his.
Tetsuya stepped out of the trading center, glancing down at his Poké-watch with a satisfied grin.
This felt amazing—far more thrilling than yesterday's mere 2.2 million.
For the first time in either of his lives, his bank balance had hit eight digits. And the first digit wasn't a 1.
Unfortunately, most of it was about to be spent.
Taking a deep breath, he made his way toward the black market.
After slipping into a plain black robe to blend in, Tetsuya began searching for his target.
The black market was divided into two sections: the stall area and the store district. The distinction was simple.
The stall area was for independent trainers selling items, much like how Tetsuya had sold his Butterfree earlier. These individuals simply paid a fee to set up a booth.
The store district, on the other hand, was controlled by organized groups—either wealthy families, poacher syndicates, or notorious organizations like Team Rocket, who sold their spoils in bulk for money or resources.
Why didn't the League shut it down? Well, Tetsuya had his suspicions. He wouldn't be surprised if the true power behind regional black markets was someone high up in the League itself. It was more convenient for them to regulate it unofficially rather than attempt a futile crackdown.
After all, the black market provided an illusion of opportunity for lower-class trainers. And sometimes, illusions were necessary.
Tetsuya made a round through the stall area. There were only four or five vendors selling Combusken or Elekid eggs.
In total, there were only eight available Pokémon—six Torchic and two Elekid. None had remarkable potential.
While it was true that both species were rare, Tetsuya had no intention of settling for anything below King-level potential.
As a reincarnator with a golden finger, he wasn't just aiming to become an elite trainer.
His goal was far beyond that. If he was getting an Elekid, it had to have top-tier potential. If it was a Torchic, it had to be at least near-Champion level.
After all, as one of the three starter Pokémon, Torchic was always in demand.
And don't underestimate starter Pokémon. The League had conducted years of research proving that they were the best choices for new trainers, and countless trainers had validated that claim.
Where there was demand, there was supply. On the other hand, Pokémon like Electabuzz—who only had one evolution—were less popular.
As a result, the black market had far more Torchic eggs than Elekid eggs.
A larger supply meant a greater chance of finding a hidden gem, which meant Tetsuya's standards had to be even higher.
In the stall area, six of the eight Pokémon were Torchic, and the remaining two Elekid had only standard or elite potential.
Tetsuya wasn't surprised. High-potential Pokémon rarely appeared in the stall section.
The vendors here obtained their Pokémon through chance encounters during their adventures. There was no guarantee of quality.
But the store district was a different story.
Tetsuya headed toward the right side of the market, where a guarded entrance led to the black market stores. Two staff members stood at the gate, verifying the assets of those seeking entry.
The minimum requirement? A verified savings card with at least 5 million League Credits. No exceptions.
This policy filtered out those who might damage Pokémon eggs without the funds to pay compensation.
Not that the black market wouldn't make them "pay" in other ways—but it was an unnecessary hassle.
Tetsuya had never been inside the store district before, so he was curious about what lay ahead.
He approached the entrance, pulled out an anonymous savings card he had prepared in advance, and handed it over.
It contained 10 million League Credits—more than enough to pass verification.