Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

"Where’s the best place to buy a gun?" I asked, stuffing food into my mouth.

Lance had left, climbing up on his Dragonite to fly back to the League in a huff, leaving Oak and I to return to the kitchen and some breakfast at last. Thankfully the two women had also made themselves scarce.

"Firearms are extremely regulated," Oak replied. "Only the League can issue them, and only during times of extreme emergency."

"Huh," I said. "In my world that would be fairly sensible. In a world full of monsters out to eat you, that seems really short sighted."

I tore off a piece of the bacon-like meat from my plate and fed it to Ace, the little Eevee having planted himself under my chair.

"Firearms make too much noise," Oak explained. "Firing one will draw every Pokémon for fifty miles to you."

"Pokémon are drawn to loud noises?" I asked. "Good to know."

"Yes! Extremely good to know, and that’s my point!" Oak said, banging his fist on the table. "You can’t do this, Chloe. You don’t know this world. You’ll be eaten alive."

"That was why I wanted the gun," I pointed out. "What about repels? They work like in the games?"

"Pokémon repellent sprays exist, yes," Oak admitted. "But they only work on weaker Pokémon, and if you get the wrong kind, it’ll have the opposite effect!"

I took a bite of my breakfast and chewed, considering his words. I tried not to think about what I was eating, only that it was delicious.

"You can’t talk me out of this, Oak," I told him after I swallowed.

"I am not trying to talk you out of anything, Chloe," he replied. "If you recall, I was the one who suggested the possibility in the first place."

"Hm, point," I conceded. "I’m still going."

"Yes, good, go," he said. "Just don’t go yet. Stay here for a year, six months at the least. Learn what you need to know about this world to survive so you can find your way home."

He wasn’t wrong. I knew that. My run in with the Rattata had taught me all too well how dangerous wild Pokémon were.

And he was a famous Pokémon trainer and former League Champion. It’s not like I couldn’t learn a lot from him.

It was just that…

"My parents are out there waiting for me," I said to him. "They might not even know I’m missing yet, but sooner or later someone will notice I haven’t shown up to work. They’ll call my folks, they’ll come looking for me."

"And they’ll be terrified for you," Oak finished. "You might not know this, but I had a son."

"What happened to him?" I asked, not missing the past tense.

"After his mother and I separated, they moved to Alola," Oak said. "His name was Eilo."

"Shit, I am so sorry, man, I had no idea," I said.

"I saw the Alola game on your phone," Oak continued. "I thought it might contain some information about Ultra Beasts that the League might be able to use."

"Ah, double shit," I said. "You played it, didn’t you?"

"Just a little," Oak admitted.

"After you stole my phone. Fine," I conceded. "One month. Then I’m out of here."

“Six months,” Oak countered. “And I’ll throw in your first Pokemon.”

I hesitated, teetering with indecision. My own Pokemon? No. I had to get back to my parents.

“Two months,” I said. “Don’t push me on this, Oak.”

“Three months, a starter Pokemon and I’ll cover your living expenses,” Oak said. “It will take at least that long for your Pokemon to be ready anyway.”

“Gah, fine!” I said, throwing my hands up.

"Excellent!" Oak said, his grin returning. "Now, there’s one last condition of the Otherworlder Protocol that I forgot to mention. You’ll need a Psychic- or Ghost-type Pokémon to shield your mind."

"Come again?" I said.

"We can’t risk someone skimming your mind and learning who you are," he explained. "While you’re with me, Queenie can protect you, but as soon as you leave…"

"Okay, so I just need a Psychic Pokémon, that’s cool," I said. "Can I buy one or do I have to go catch one?"

"Oh there won’t be any need for that," Oak said, a sly grin on his face.

"I don’t understand," I said.

"Ace, come here boy," Oak called to the Eevee under my chair. It chirped and happily jumped into his lap. "How do you feel about Chloe becoming your new trainer?"

---

"It may not be Sinnoh, but Kanto gets plenty cold at night and outright freezing in the winter," Penny said, explaining why my choice of a light green sleeping bag was wrong. "Now this one, it’s pricey but it’s worth it."

I read the information blurb printed on the packaging. Some kind of Caterpie string and Mareep fur lining that promised to regulate temperatures all year round, keeping you warm in winter and cool in summer.

"Sure," I said. "Chuck it in."

Penny grinned devilishly and threw the sleeping bag into our cart.

Nothing more fun than spending someone else’s money, I guess.

Two weeks after my meeting with Lance, my starter funds and my first stipend was finally deposited into my Indigo League bank account. $4800 plus my first monthly stipend of $800, for a total of $5600. With Oak covering my next three months while I learned how to be a trainer, I was comfortable spending the majority of it, knowing I could put the next two months away for my journey.

Eager to feel like I wasn’t just spinning my wheels in Oak’s lab, I’d set out to spend my money as soon as I could, Ace perched proudly on my shoulder. Oak had wanted to come, but had been caught up in a video conference, so his aid Penny had volunteered instead.

"And you want one of these," Penny said, handing me a folding green spade.

"A spade?" I asked, taking the tool and turning it over in my hands.

"Trust me. When you’re on the road and there are no bathrooms around, a shovel is a life saver," she said with a wink. And when it folds up, it doubles as a hammer.

I shrugged and threw it in our cart along with a multitool and a dangerous looking hunting knife and sheath.

Despite seeing her almost daily since I’d arrived in this world two weeks earlier, I still wasn’t sure how I felt about Penny. She was nice enough. But like, too nice maybe? Part of me was sure she was faking it. But then she’d do something like offer to show me how to give Ace a massage or volunteer to help me shop, and I’d be left wondering again.

Blonde, perky and probably about ten years older than me if I had to guess, she was dressed in a smart blouse and pencil skirt, the trademark white labcoat over top.

Penny was what I pictured when I thought of a high class New York business woman from a Hallmark movie. Those ones where the woman moves to bumfuck nowhere and falls in love with a bartender or something.

"What’s left on the list?" she asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"Um, let’s see," I said. I rummaged through our cart and compared the items to my poorly written list. "We’ve got a tent, sleeping bag, spade, sleeping mat, pillow, camp chair, flashlight, tarp, extra cord, camp stove, a frypan, a pot, water pack with purifier, and a backpack. That should be everything from this store."

We rang up our goods and Penny organised to have them delivered to the lab so we didn’t have to lug them around all day.

"What’s next?" she asked once we were back on the street.

Pallet Town hadn’t been what I’d expected when I first ventured out from the lab. While the games had only a few buildings per town due to hardware limits, and the cartoon had painted the town as a pastoral village hidden in a valley, the truth was something else entirely.

The village where Ash and Gary had started their infamous rivalry was thirty years gone, replaced by a proper walled city and a population in the thousands.

Unlike the mega malls of my world, the Pokémon World favoured outdoor malls and main streets lined with stores. They also lacked the franchises and outlet stores I was familiar with, instead stores were owned and operated by local crafts people. It was like traveling back in time.

I’d stared in wonder as Penny had dragged me into a tailor’s shop where a team of Spinarak had woven Caterpie string into durable clothing fit to the customer’s measurements. No fast fashion here. Everything was expected to last.

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I’d been measured, poked and prodded, and walked out with some of the most comfortable clothes I’d ever owned.

The camping goods store had been the first where I’d seen stuff not made locally, and that had mostly been the tents and sleeping bags using synthetic materials.

"Is there like a Pokémon pet store or something around?" I asked, reaching up and scratching Ace under the chin. As part of our bonding, Oak had instructed me to spend as much time as I could with the kit. "I want to get a grooming kit for Ace and maybe some toys."

"The PokeMart should have everything you need," Penny said.

Imagine a Japanese convenience store and a pharmacy had a baby together. And that baby had a bright blue roof. That’s a PokeMart.

Located at the end of the main street, right before the stores gave way to residential housing, bright fluorescent lighting bathed all things Pokémon. Pokémon food, Pokémon beds, Pokémon toys, Pokémon grooming kits, Pokémon health products.

I didn’t know where to begin.

Thankfully, Penny did. Grabbing me by the hand, she dragged me into the bowels of the commercial beast.

"If you’re using PokeChow, you want Doc Brock," she said, throwing a bag of dry Pokémon food into a basket. "Avoid anything claiming to be type specific, it’s all a scam."

"The best food is stuff you make yourself," she continued, stalking down the aisle like a predator. "But if you can’t or won’t, then Doc Brock. It’s pricey, but worth it."

"As in the Gym Leader Brock?" I asked, eyeing the tanned man’s face plastered across the packaging.

"Mhm," Penny affirmed. "Former Gym Leader anyway. These days he runs a Pokémon Health Clinic and helps out his brother Forrest with Pewter Gym."

I filed that away for later, though I supposed it made sense the Gym leaders had changed in the past thirty years. Something to look up before bed tonight.

Past the food aisle, we came to the trainer section. Belts with magnetic slots to hold your PokeBalls, official Pokémon League hats and t-shirts, badge cases. If some company thought a trainer would buy it, it was probably here. Finding a nice black one, I threw a magnetic belt in the basket.

At the end of the aisle, a Mart employee stood guard behind a glass case displaying the more expensive items. He eyed me as I approached, his eyes darting to the jewellery piercing my face and the small but numerous tattoos that littered my arms and neck.

I would be lying if I said his reaction didn't bother me, but I'd be fucked if I let him know it got to me, so I ignored it.

PokeBalls, so cheap in the games that a child could buy hundreds, were shockingly expensive, with prices ranging from simply ‘I guess I’m eating instant ramen this month’ classic red and white PokeBalls to the ‘I could buy a car for that!’ Luxury Ball.

PokeBall - $500

Great Ball - $1500

Ultra Ball - $5000

Luxury Ball - $10000

Despite the price, I needed one for Ace, the Eevee essentially a domesticated wild Pokémon.

"One PokeBall," I told the employee, passing over my League bank card for them to charge.

"Here you go, Miss," the employee said, handing me the ball in a cute little red and white box. He seemed much more comfortable with me now I'd splashed some cash. "We’re also having a deal on Pokedexes this month if you’re interested, 10 percent off with every PokeBall purchase."

Besides the PokeBalls in the display case lay gleaming Pokedexes. Ever since I was a child, I've wanted a real life Pokedex. Then I saw the price.

PokeDex - $2500

Fuck it. It’s not like I couldn’t afford it and it might come in useful.

I selected a shiny black PokeDex, the mart employee happily boxing it up for me.

"If you’re aiming for an Espeon, you’ll want to keep your Eevee out of its PokeBall as much as possible," Penny said once I placed my purchases in the basket. "That means you’ll need a bed. Ah, this one should be good."

She pulled a box from a shelf and passed it to me. A grinning Growlithe lounged in a dark blue bed across the front.

"Devon Co Portable Pokémon bed," I read from the box blurb. "The perfect portable, waterproof outdoor travel bed for your beloved ‘Mon. Guaranteed comfort with our patented orthopedic foam. Flareon Orange."

"Yep, rolls right up just like your sleeping mat," Penny said. "You wanted a grooming kit and some toys, right?"

Stuffing the bed under my arm, I trudged along after the excitable aide. A few aisles over we found an affordable all-in-one grooming kit with brush and nail clippers, as well as some Oran-infused shampoo and an ear cleaning kit.

An aisle over from that, we found the toys.

"What about this one?" Penny asked, holding up a tough chew toy painted like a PokeBall. "Give those jaws a good workout."

I had noticed Ace liked to chew on some of the stuff around the lab, so I added it to our very full basket.

"I don’t recommend any tug-of-war toys or ropes," Penny advised as I picked a thick knotted rope up. "A battler is likely to accidentally tear your arms off."

I considered the toy anyway. I could possibly make for a good training tool once I had more than one Pokémon, so I threw it in as well. Penny shrugged as if to say don’t come crying to me later.

We were about to leave when something bright yellow stuck behind some plush toys caught my eye. Reaching in, I pulled out the ugliest, most adorable thing I had ever seen. The toy had clearly been intended to look like a Pikachu, but something had seriously gone wrong. Rather than the fat little plush toys like the others on the shelf, I beheld the glory of Long Pikachu. At least a foot long, a third of a foot round, the plush toy looked more like a Pikachu sausage than the electric mouse it was supposed to represent. I had to have it.

"Arceus," Penny swore when she spotted it in my hands. "That is the creepiest, most vile thing I have ever seen."

"I know, right!" I practically squeed. "I love it!"

I held it up to Ace and he eagerly snatched it from my hands.

“Looks like Ace shares your strange tastes,” Penny said.

Our final item on my list of necessary goods was boots. Ringing up our purchases at the Mart and once more having them sent on ahead of us to the lab, I followed Penny down the street, my borrowed flipflops flapping with each step, till we came to a store with a large sign shaped like a show hanging over the sidewalk. Mime and Yours Cobblers, was painted in gold upon the glass window.

Grabbing my hand, Penny dragged me inside.

"Good morning, ladies!" greeted a hunched old man. "Mr Mime! We have customers!"

From the back of the store, the grumpiest face I have ever laid eyes on emerged from behind a curtain.

"Hello Mr. Mime," Penny greeted the Pokémon.

"Hi," I said, giving a weak wave. It was so creepy looking.

It stopped and glared at me.

Oh shit! Mr. Mimes are Psychics, right? Did it just hear me?

No, it couldn’t have. Queenie had put a shield on my mind before we’d left.

It was still glaring at me though.

"What can we do for you lovelies today?" the old man asked, ushering us to take a seat.

"A pair of hiking boots for my friend here," Penny said. "She’s starting her journey."

"Ah ha!" the old man exclaimed. "A special time! You need the best then! When you are out on your own, just you and the road, you have to be able to rely on your boots!"

That was something I’d picked up on pretty quickly since arriving here. Going on a Pokémon journey was a big deal. It was like having your twenty-first birthday or graduating university back home. Everyone had some advice for you or wanted to share a story from their own journey.

The old man clapped suddenly.

"Mr. Mime! Measure!" he shouted.

Instantly, the Mr. Mime leapt into action. My flipflops were plucked from my feet and my foot held up to a wooden block with a foot shape stamped on it. I on as the Mr. Mime noted down measurements in a notebook, then swapped feet and wrote new numbers.

Pokémon can read and write?

The Mr.Mime dropped my feet and handed the note pad to the old man.

"Hmm, yes, I see," he said, going over the numbers. "Mr. Mime, get me the 34, the 17 and number 12."

The Mr. Mime disappeared into the back, then reappeared a moment later carrying rolls of leather and fabric..

The old guy held the pieces up to my feet and made some marks with a pencil.

"Okay, you come back in three days, all done then!" he proclaimed.

"Wait, three days?” I asked.

"You want good boots? Boots that last? Come back three days," he said, waving us toward the door. "Trust! For journey, you need good boots."

Penny laughed and I glowered at her.

"Come on," she said, standing and leading me back outside. "Old Man Kork does the best shoes in town."

"Damn right!" the old man shouted as we exited.

"Don’t worry about it, three days’ll pass in a flash," Penny said. "Let’s get some lunch!"

—

A few shops down from Mime and Yours, we sat outside under a shade sail, Penny sipping coffee while I picked at my salad.

"Are you sure you don’t want to spend some more time preparing before you go?" Penny asked suddenly.

We’d been silent while we’d eaten and I now realized she’d been working up to asking.

"You know who I am, right?" I asked. "Where I come from?"

As Oak’s personal assistant and top aide, Penny had almost the same clearance as the Professor.

"I do," Penny confirmed. "And you don’t have to worry about being overheard, my Noctowl is shielding us."

Noctowl?

I knew she had one but I hadn’t seen it today.

"Then you know why I can’t put this off any longer," I said. "I have to get home."

I speared a piece of not-ham and stuck it in my mouth. Whatever it was, it was really good. Slightly salty with a touch of sweetness.

"The Professor is worried about you," Penny said. "I’ve never seen him this worried."

A thought occurred to me.

"You’re close with Oak then?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.

It didn’t work. Penny was much shrewder than I.

She laughed that tinkling laugh of hers.

"Gary and I?" she said. "I wish. No, that man is married to his work."

"I guess," I said.

He hadn’t seemed very invested in anything specific since I’d met him.

"You haven’t seen how he gets," Penny said. "He’s been different since you arrived. More like he used to be. More like Blue."

"More like Blue?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Penny reached into her bag and took out her phone. It was pretty close to the phones from my world except for the Pokeball logo on the back. She opened a video and passed it over to me.

A young man was riding on the back of a silver bird, a Skarmony. They rocketted across the sky as the camera jerkily followed. The camera zoomed in on the rider, revealing a familiar face. Gary Oak, looking no more than twenty five, a determined look on his face. The camera suddenly zoomed out and went fuzzy before refocusing.

"Holy shit," I said.

"Right?" said Penny.

Clinging to the back of the steel type bird, Oak faced off against a Pokémon the size of a mountain. I recognised it immediately. Palkia. Blue waved an arm and Skarmony swooped in, razor talons flashing. Palkia reared back and roared, long thin slashes across its face. The blast of a hyperbeam flashed across the screen and the camera went black.

"Oak fought that thing?" I asked, incredulous. "It was massive!"

"Hmhm," Penny agreed, taking her phone back. "When Team Galactic summoned Palkia, he was in Fiore. When he got word of what was happening, he took off on his Skarmony and flew all the way to Sinnoh."

"Damn, way to go Oak," I said.

"He fought Palkia and Dialga to a stand still, buying time for Cynthia to summon Arceus," Penny continued. "When the League and the Elite Four failed to react, a foreign trainer was the one to come to our aid."

"You were there, weren’t you?" I asked. "In Sinnoh?"

Penny nodded, her face looking grim.

"I dedicated my life to that man that day," she said.