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Pokemon: A life worth living

Pete was an ordinary guy. He didn't get out much. But he had a decent job and hobbies that kept him busy. And a brother that he could rely on and so Pete was content with how his life was going. Well, until he made a robot that killed him. Yeah, it totally wasn't his own fault. Turns out, the afterlife would have to wait a little longer to claim his soul. And so he is sent to a world he created as a hobby novelist and fan fiction writer. He took the pokemon world and gave it a dash of realism. Anything that made sense to HIM was changed about the pokemon world. And that's the world he is about to be thrown into. With no mission, no goal. All he should do is live a life worth living. __________________________________________________ I'm kinda just writing this after I read one too many pokemon fanfics (god I love Borne of Caution) and I wanted something that didn't revolve around Ash or someone replacing him to become the next poke champ. I have a few plotlines ready, but I'm not even fully sold on all the pokemon I want to add. Definitely taking suggestions, though keep it non-legendary and preferably Gen I-III (because that's where he lives. The MC can't keep getting lucky finding all the super rare pokemon from regions halfway across the globe) Taking suggestions on the female lead, too. Comment in the MC POV chapter at the end or leave a review with your top 3 pokemon waifus. If I see a Vaporeon there I'll drop this fanfic (possibly). So my MC will likely choose farming and/or breeding as a profession, probably a good amount of research sprinkled in on the side. It's what I would do for sure and this is pretty much a self-insert. Even the MC's name is a play on my real name. There's no levels, no system, no talent-tiers. Sure there are pokemon with higher and lower talents, but no egghead sat their butt down and color-coded it all in my world. This is my take on what reality with pokemon would look like in the pokemon world. The MC is starting in Kanto (on route 27 just between Kanto and Johto), but will open up his farm in Johto. That's Gen2. I'll start with chapters that have 3k+++ words, but eventually it will go down to 1.5-2k I reckon. Still trying to catch some motivation to continue my other 2 fics. And honestly I'm just procrastinating my original story with this... #slowpaced #no-really-it-is-very-slow-paced #NOpokefuta #human-human-relationship-only (you degenerates) #farming #nosystem #PokemonAU #Reuniclus-is-GOAT #conspiracies May Arceus bless us all. All rights to Pokémon go to the Pokémon Company, Nintendo, Game Freak and other related companies.

Nuclide · Videojogos
Classificações insuficientes
116 Chs

C001 - Intro

Pete Lang, a mechanical engineer at a company for farming equipment close to reaching his thirties, died in his shower after slipping and unluckily hitting his head on the bathtub's rim. Had anyone found him even a few hours later and taken him to the hospital, his life could have been preserved rather easily - however Pete lived alone and his cat slept through the whole thing.

Not that it would have mattered. His cat didn't know how to use the phone to call for help.

Pete had a few hobbies over the years from videogames, reading fantasy books, and the occasional pasttime of writing stories himself.

In his early life, he gained his passion for tinkering and engineering together with his older brother by spending time with his grandfather.

The old man lived his retirement out on a farm that had sold all the arable land to a neighboring farmer. However, he kept the house, a barn with a century old tractor they tinkered on and an old smithy that was used for horse shoes by the old owner. Together with his grandsons, they tried smithing over the summers when the boys stayed over. In an age before youtube existed with tutorial videos on just about everything, their first projects were nothing to write home about, and even a few years later, the self-taught blacksmiths couldn't make more than wonky, barely usable pliers, but it's never been about more than spending time together.

When they weren't tinkering in the barn or working up a sweat in the smithy, Pete and his brother spent time with their grandfather's second wife to learn about kitchen work. She was a kind lady with a penchant for cooking and baking.

His older brother also spent a lot of time with her in the large garden to tend to the vegetables and spices. A hobby that would eventually turn into his brother's profession after getting a degree in agricultural management and a master's in crop sciences later, which he used to make his own greenhouses that quickly generated enough income to allow him to quit his day-job.

And while his brother was rather outgoing, quickly finding a lovely soon-to-be wife that gave him two beautiful, healthy daughters, Pete never dated anyone after he and his first girlfriend broke it off after she revealed she was going to get her master's in another country after a few years of dating in college.

Instead, he focused on his job, finished learning the language he wanted to learn to do a surprise visit to his ex-girlfriend's country of choice, and got himself a robot arm.

It was an impulse purchase. He had no idea what he wanted to do with it. The arm had 2 big joints and pliers for a hand, and it took him a few months to learn enough Python to even move it an inch, saying nothing of having to learn how to operate linux for the small raspberry pi the arm was connected to. Pete was definitely no savant in the IT department.

But it was something to do, something to keep his mind occupied, something that wasn't learning a fifth language, which would have probably been his next choice. His native language, then English, because of books, TV shows and movies, French, because of his grandmother, and Dutch, because of his ex-girlfriend were enough.

Well, it turned out the robot arm, while bought on a whim, was also his downfall. In his last conscious moments looking up at the ceiling and the deep windowsill that held his shampoo and other shower equipment, he saw the robot arm with his little plastic wrapping to make sure it and the raspberry pi won't get damaged by the shower.

Instead of simply holding his shampoo bottle for him to take like he ordered the arm with the simple voice commands he programmed, the robot arm had flipped the open bottle and squeezed out all the shampoo which caused him to slip.

Either he was really unlucky, a worse programmer than he had thought, Skynet was upon Earth, or it was simply a stupid decision to take a robot arm into the shower for no reason.

It didn't matter much. He had a car that could be sold and a few stock options he bought, and it would all go to his brother and his family. His brother knew how to get access to his accounts for emergencies. His cat would survive by hunting a few mice outside until his body is discovered, and that is when Pete's pondering thoughts stopped.

But it did not take long until his thoughts started again, which greatly surprised Pete. He wondered why his eyes wouldn't open until thinking about his eyes allowed him to see, though with a much wider field of vision than he was used to.

Looking around, he saw all kinds of impossibilities, from framed pictures that moved to a window that showed a super nova expanding through space or a woman in what looked to be a business suit for men in the 80s with suspenders and an awfully wide tie. Why was that an impossibility?

Well, for one the woman had literal fire as hair that didn't try to float upwards and the other was that she was at the same time at least twice his size and at the other time stood in front of a file cabinet that was half his size. But when he looked at both together, they were the same size. It was a matter of perspective but at the same time not because he was sure about the dimensions of this place and the person, and they made no sense.

"Ah, Pete. You're here," she said looking up after picking up what looked to be five sheets of see-through glass roughly the size and form of a sheet of paper in her hands.

"Oh, you won't be able to talk. You're just a soul now. But don't worry, I'll read your thoughts so we can keep the conversation going," the fire-haired lady explained with a wink as Pete started to wonder why he couldn't answer despite his intentions.

"Yeah, it must be confusing, but no matter. This will be over before you realise it," she explained as she sat down, not in front of a desk, as this office setting would suggest. No, she sat on what looked to be a blue sun Pete could directly look into without burning out his eyes. And yet, while it looked like a sun, it also behaved like a giant exercise ball, or 'fitness orb', as she sat down on it.

"Let's see, five worlds to choose from. Fantastic choices all around, though I think I already have a favorite," the lady mused.

'Five worlds? Choose from?' Pete thought in question.

"Ah yes, let's start at the beginning, Pete. Your Earth is a little special in the grand scheme of things. You guys thought up a god of creation, and so many people believed in him he became real. He joined with the concept of creation, yet before leaving behind this plane of existence, he more or less negotiated favorable conditions for souls of your world. And your soul has met one of these conditions because you, young Pete, are a writer," the lady explained while bouncing around a little on her exercise sun.

'Five... is it stories I wrote? But I wrote a little more than five,' Pete thought.

"Well, you're right and wrong on that front. Only five of your stories met the criteria needed. You see, when you write a story, souls from your Earth actually create them as a sub-reality. But only if the story has enough world building will that be true. So for example your original 'Lessons of Karma', while that world exists, the subsequent prequels and sequels you thought up weren't fleshed out enough to be among these five choices," the lady patiently answered.

'So all writers get these choices? What happens when you choose one?'

"Oh, yeah, I didn't get to that part yet, did I? You'll be sent to that chosen story randomly and live out your life like you would and then join the cycle of reincarnation in that world. It's to broaden your soul and, according to the god of creation of your world, a great boon. Though, there won't be any wishes or golden fingers of that sort, even if your story inculdes it. Sure, Tolkien, for example, got super lucky - as he said - and actually was granted the life of Tom Bombadil's older brother. He's currently doing mischief all over Middle Earth, enjoying life. And, eventually, Rowling will turn out to be a witch, but she pissed off her handler and was born again as Dolores Umbridge's identical twin sister. And before you ask, J.K.Rowling isn't dead yet, but time flows very differently for us handlers."

Pete got to thinking what world's he fleshed out enough besides his original and what his preferred world to live in would be. It definitely wasn't his DC fanfic 'Son of Poseidon'. If he's unlucky enough to be born as a civilian in that world, he'd be toast before he even knew it with no chance to fight against the grim fate.

"Oh, no worries, Pete. The story is among the choices, yes, but the worlds of DC aren't my cup of tea, as you would say. And while your original took a lot of elements from established fiction, and it's still a good read, I still won't choose it. Your fan-fiction of the son of Thor and the other one of that delightful Hufflepuff professor are equally well fleshed out, but I'll let you in on a secret. The world of Pokemon is among my absolute favorites! That's what I'll choose!"

'Then... it's all about the start I'll get. To see if I can make it or live a life of servitude and mediocrity or die almost immediately. Well, at the very least, befriending a Pokemon isn't a matter of pure chance like being born a wizard or as someone with powers,' Pete thought a little dejectedly.

"No worries, Pete. I love what you did with your Pokemon works. Ash staying what looked to be 10-12 despite his long journey? Explained away with human longevity due to a year being 4380 days long, meaning a month with 365 days there is a year on earth. Yet people will still grow up to be 10-50. That's essentially 100 to 500 years. Pokemon bonds, truly a beautiful idea you fleshed out compared to the source material. Brilliant concept with the time, too, especially if you blow up the size of that planet by as much as you did. A cycle of seasons is still a year but just takes longer? Very creative, I think. Ash would be a little over 1 starting his journey - well, if you didn't change the rules, that is. Very few writers put any real thought into weather, change of seasons, and time in general, especially if the time isn't a copy of Earth's."

"The realism on corruption in the league and consequences for the actions of criminals and criminal organizations; also very well thought out. But what I like most is what you did with Pokemon move pools!"

'Hmm, I diversified move pools and made it so there's no automatic learned move upon level up. Therefore, everything is learned based on talent, compatibility, and typing?'

"Exactly right! And no level and stats period, also underrated choice on your part. But I digress. Unless physically impossible, meaning no arms, no learning punch moves, you made it so every pokemon can learn just about anything given time, resources, proper training, and compatibility with the typing energy."

"So any pokemon that is able to use psychic typing energy could potentially learn teleport. Though they won't learn it quick. And if they don't put in effort, the learning will take years before they can teleport further than a hundred meters. And ugh, don't get me started on the mega evolutions! Making it temporary like the original doesn't mean it isn't a copy from digimon, so your choice to make them even rarer, yet permanent, was a nice touch!"

'Uhm, so I'll be in a more realistic pokemon world with no wishes and golden fingers. Will I be reborn or just appear?'

"Ah yes. I guess it is time for our talk to end. It was a pleasure to meet you, Pete, and thanks for allowing me to see a different iteration of pokemon. I have a little bit of influence on how you arrive in your story. You'll be an adolescent a little over 1.5 years old (18 Earth years) and I chose a smuggler's shipwreck on the coast of route 27, that's between Kanto and Johto, a Poke-year before the anime canon would start, not that you need to mind Ash or your MC on their adventure. You were an alright fella, so you'll get a few freebies, most important among that an egg of my favorite pokemon if you find it, because I like you. That should set you up nicely."

"Remember, live your life like you want. No need to become the champion. No need to complete the pokedex and catch them all. No need to calm down legendaries on the verge of sinking a continent. Just live a life worth living."

'Before I go, is my brother and his family going to be okay?'

"Oh, yep! Your last lottery ticket you bought on a whim was a jackpot. Your brother checked that by chance when he unlocked your phone when he saw the e-mail. He's going to win 17 million bucks and open greenhouses all over the country with it, employing thousands of people! Your nieces will grow up wanting for nothing. Your brother is a great father."

'Nice, of course that asshole makes a fortune off my corpse,' Pete thought with a merry laugh before his thoughts once again ended.

And just like before, his thoughts started once again. Though this time, Pete wasn't surprised by the fact they started again, no this time, he was surprised by the amount of pain he was feeling.

As he slowly, painfully and awkwardly sat up and took in his surroundings, the first thing Pete saw were two shipping containers washed up on the beach with him only a pebble throw away. Then, he noticed the heavy rain and strong winds that moved dark and turbulent clouds that hid the sun, making it hard to guess what time it was. Clearly, the shipwreck was caused by that heavy storm.

On the horizon, past the containers on the vast sea, Pete could even make out twisters pulling up massive amounts of water up into the air.

By now, Pete was completely and utterly soaked. His clothes were feeling heavy against his skin, and the wind made it so he felt very cold despite the general temperature of the air suggesting it should have been a rather warm day in spring.

'Guess I should find the freebies in those containers and that egg the lady mentioned. She shouldn't have a useless pokemon as a favorite, right?'

With a little limp in his step, Pete made his way to the containers and opened the first one. Crate after wooden crate were toppeled and out of order inside the first one, yet Pete didn't have to search the numbered crates one by one to see what's inside because there was a manifest stuck to the wall next to the door.

Pleasantly surprised by the contents being written in what appeared to be English, Pete found that more than half of these crates held eggs from all over Unova. Even their starters were among them. However, the biggest surprise was a crate with ten bags of holding. He remembered that he wrote them into his fanfic with actual limits, like you can't just put full bags into other bags. What you put in has to actually fit into the bag's opening and with a little room to spare, and their full inner size ranged from a bathtub to something like this ship's container depending on the quality.

But even then, this is exactly what he needed first in this world. The lady wasn't kidding when she said he'll receive 'a few freebies'. And, luckily, the crate holding the bags was on top of the mess of crates. Swiftly opening it by unlocking the top of the box, Pete saw ten messenger bags you could hang over one shoulder comfortably lying a little out of order in their packaging.

Just like that, Pete began hoarding everything he could salvage from the container into his bags. He even found an actual electrical generator, though small in size and a little banged up. It looked to be servicable and...charged by pokemon moves with electric typing energy?

He found a few crates filled with all sorts of bottles with nutritious drinks, marked by what they were used for. It ranged from drinks with concentrated calcium to drink with concentrated zinc, sadly, though the concentration was so high, the bottles read that they were not safe for human consumption. He did, however, find a manual on how to create these drinks, so whatever they were smuggling appeared to be just samples of new products.

Reading the manifest for all the eggs, Pete was excited at the prospect of being able to raise such a big variety of powerful pokemon. As mentioned, these 70 eggs included the famed Unova starter pokemon, as well as eggs from all over Unova. There were even Trapinch eggs, which Pete was most excited about. Despite its akward typing with 4x weakness to ice, Flygon was among his favorite pokemon. However, when he was done rifling through all the crates, Pete was sad to learn that only 8 out of these 70 eggs survived the accident.

One Snivy egg, one Sunkern egg, two Timburr eggs, two Minccino eggs, one Trapinch egg, and one Klink egg. That was his haul. The broken Deerling, Eevee, and Ferroseed eggs were the most heart-breaking. They would have been great pokemon to raise. Deerling as a mount later on, Eevee because he could decide what it should become on a whim and Ferroseed because Ferrothorn was a ridiculously overpowered pokemon if it didn't fight something with a fire move. An immovable wall only hurt by two types, and even the fighting weakness was negligible because most fighting moves were physical and Ferrothorn with enough setup time would not take physical damage.

Packing up a few more things like wooden panels and the like because he had plenty of room to spare with his ten mid-range sized bags of holding, Pete made his way over to the second container in the hopes of another amazing find.

The manifest of this container, however, was vastly different from the one before. No eggs, no drinks. Instead, this container housed a whole bunch of luxury items. From a crate filled with a good 100 shrunken luxury balls that should not yet exist in Kanto if the timeline is to be believed, to a display case with what appeared to be a cover fossil of a rather small Tirtouga, to five TM, four of which looked completely fine. Even luxury camping gear like self-heating pots and high-quality fishing rods were among the items.

It was crazy to think he would actually find Technical Machines that looked like one of those fully automatic coffee machines. Just like the TCG card for TMs. Instead of a mug, it appeared you could slot in a pokeball, and instead of a capsule or coffee beans, it looked like you had to slot in a rather thick CD. It appeared this item, too, was a prototype. Its purpose was the ability to reuse these TM-CDs because the old method made the hard to create TM-CDs one time use items.

Thankfully, the machine came with a manual, though without instructions on how to repair it should they break. Unfortunately, the disks that held the moves weren't loaded up properly and were all cracked from what Pete could see.

Looking further through the crates, Pete found a few more things like two luxury sleeping bags, a tent that sadly had a rather large hole pierced through and through the folded up fabric and lastly a whole bunch of evolution stones. Some were cracked and, therefore, mostly unusable depending on the type, but he still made it out of the shipment with every kind of stone. Fire stones were the most prominent, and even a King's Rock was among the items.

Yeah, that lady wasn't kidding when she said she would give Pete freebies. But as he made his way out of the container, he spotted a metallic crate that did not appear on the manifest. A smuggler among smugglers apparently hid something from his boss. He opened the crate about the size of a toaster and found an egg along with three scuffed up, clearly already used pokeballs.

Loaded up with two bags in each hand and the other six bags hung over his shoulders, Pete walked to the door of the second container to look outside and ponder what he should do now.

'I shouldn't stay. The shipwreck would eventually be noticed, and people would search for these containers. Even more, curious trainers or wild pokemon could stroll over and fight me for the loot,' Pete considered as he squinted his eyes to try and make out any forsaken dwellings in the vicinity, though sadly he found none.

With one last look around the container and bringing up the hood of his jacket, Pete decided on running left. If this was truly the coast of route 27, going left would mean running west toward Johto with only one small town close by once you cross a mountain with two waterfalls or swim along the shore. However, running right would bring him east toward Pallet Town and Viridian City, home of Team Rocket. The most likely recipients of this smuggler run. And running into Team Rocket grunts with no pokemon to defend himself would be suicide, unless his body actually existed before and had some kind of scary backing.