Joining the Rockets

In the dimly lit alley, a Meowth crept cautiously, its sharp eyes catching sight of half a steamed bun discarded on the ground.

Even though the bun was dust-covered, it was still a rare treat for a stray Meowth like this one.

Before Meowth could get closer, a sudden figure lunged out from behind, knocking Meowth over. The half-eaten bun quickly disappeared into the hands of the stranger.

Picking itself up, Meowth turned to face the one who had stolen its meal.

Although Meowth, as a Pokémon, couldn't fully comprehend human appearances, something about this individual reminded it of the star figures it had seen on posters. Most strikingly, the stranger's eyes carried a cold indifference—a detachment from life and death.

After wandering alone for so long, Meowth rarely encountered such an expression. It instinctively understood one thing: this was someone not to be provoked.

An aura like this often-concealed immense power, and no matter how frail they might seem, Meowth knew it didn't stand a chance with its slight frame.

"That's quite the look. I like it."

A sudden voice from behind startled Meowth.

The stranger turned, his face obscured by the sunlight streaming over his shoulder. All that was visible was his black attire.

The next moment, a shadow flickered, and the world spun. Tyson, the man, fainted instantly.

As the stranger disappeared into the alley, taking Tyson with him, Meowth remained frozen, trembling with fear until it finally collapsed in a faint.

The man hadn't even deemed it necessary to target Meowth directly—his presence alone was overwhelming.

When Tyson opened his eyes, he found himself in a clean, unfamiliar room. His first thought was that he had traveled through time again.

That's right—Tyson wasn't originally from this world. He had arrived in the Pokémon universe by accident.

Back in his original life, Tyson had been an orphan. Upon arriving in this new world, he quickly accepted his fate, deciding there was no need to pursue a way back.

After all, Tyson had watched plenty of anime, including Pokémon, in his previous life. This world, filled with fascinating creatures, seemed like a promising place to settle down.

But his optimism didn't last long.

His adult self had regressed into the body of a child no older than ten. Worse, he had no identity or means of support.

In the Pokémon world, children his age could start their journeys as Pokémon Trainers, but this privilege was reserved for those affiliated with the Pokémon League or wealthy families.

For Tyson, it meant one thing: he was old enough to fend for himself, yet there was no safety net to catch him.

Without resources, connections, or even a Pokémon to call his own, Tyson's struggle for survival began.

The world wasn't as idyllic as it appeared in the anime. Pokémon were powerful creatures, and even weaker ones like Rattata or Beedrill could be lethal to an unarmed human. Capturing Pokémon required Poké Balls, which Tyson couldn't afford.

Living on the streets, scavenging for food, and facing the harsh realities of this world made him painfully aware of the inequality hidden beneath the League's shining exterior.

As Tyson regained his senses in the unfamiliar room, fragments of his memory returned. He remembered the black-clad man and the fleeting shadow, likely the man's Pokémon.

Still lying on the bed, Tyson considered his situation. The man's aura had been far from kind—clearly someone powerful and dangerous. Tyson doubted he was brought here out of goodwill.

But for someone in Tyson's position, perhaps this was an opportunity. His current life was unbearable, so even a dangerous gamble seemed worth it.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door creaked open. The man stepped in, his black outfit and mask obscuring his features. Only his calm, piercing eyes were visible.

"Name."

"Tyson."

"From today onward, you're a reserve member of Team Rocket."

"…Alright."

Tyson's unwavering response caused the man to pause, slightly surprised.

"You know what Team Rocket stands for?"

"Yes," Tyson replied calmly. "The largest underground organization in the Kanto region."

The man nodded, seemingly impressed. Without further explanation, he gestured for Tyson to follow.

Outside, Tyson realized they were inside a well-secured Rocket base. The man's confident demeanor, including his indifference to showing Tyson the entry code, underscored his immense power.

"Go ahead. Choose a Pokémon. It will be yours from now on."

The man pointed to a shelf filled with Poké Balls.

"Yes, sir."

Excitement stirred in Tyson's chest. Despite all the hardship he'd endured, this moment—the chance to have his very own Pokémon—felt like a dream come true.

But he quickly suppressed his emotions, forcing himself to think carefully. This decision could shape his future, and he couldn't afford to make it lightly.