Chapter Five: Experiments with the Golden Cheat and Champion Daigo

[A regular serving of Kung Pao Chicken, able to fill the stomach.]

Staring at the words before him, Zhao Fang fell into contemplation. To test his theory, he had just prepared another batch of Pokémon food, this time replicating the flavor of Kung Pao Chicken. However, the resulting dish turned out to be quite ordinary; there was no indication of an increase in base stats by 0.3. Although Magikarp was still willing to eat it, Zhao Fang could tell it didn’t relish this portion as much as the previous one—Magikarp had clearly tasted the difference.

“So, the key really does lie in the berries?” Zhao Fang’s gaze shifted to the Oran Berry before him.

Oran Berries were fairly common in the Pokémon world. Despite their prevalence, a single berry still sold for eighty Poké League coins. The ones available in stores were of superior quality, and berries used for making Pokéblocks were typically store-bought for this reason.

With this in mind, Zhao Fang made another serving of Kung Pao Chicken, replicating the exact ingredients as in his first attempt and adding two Oran Berries to the mix. This time, the dish brought a smile to his face—just as he’d suspected, the addition of Oran Berries imbued the Kung Pao Chicken with the power to boost base stats by 0.3, even if he didn’t quite understand why.

Seeing Zhao Fang grinning foolishly, with the pot of aromatic Kung Pao Chicken in his hands, Magikarp instinctively edged away. It had already eaten two helpings of Pokémon food; though the aroma of this dish was just as enticing as the first, holding an irresistible pull for Pokémon, Magikarp knew it couldn't possibly eat another bite. Any more and it worried its stomach might burst.

“Hey, Magikarp, this portion—huh?” Zhao Fang turned to look at Magikarp, only to realize it had already backed away quite a distance, nearly reaching the edge of the creek. The moment Magikarp noticed Zhao Fang’s gaze, it leapt straight into the water. No matter how delicious the food, Magikarp simply couldn’t eat any more.

“What a pity...but I suppose Magikarp really can't manage another bite,” Zhao Fang said, shaking his head in mild regret as he looked at the pot of Kung Pao Chicken before him.

After arriving in this world, he’d once seen a news report on television: an evil organization had captured a number of Farfetch’d, slaughtered them, and sold the meat to wealthy gourmets. This bit of news had snapped Zhao Fang out of the confusion and bewilderment that had gripped him upon first crossing over.

Of course, the game’s Pokédex entry had long implied that Farfetch’d had once graced human tables—their leeks, paired with their duck meat, made for an extraordinarily savory dish. Still, even knowing this, Zhao Fang couldn’t bring himself to serve Farfetch’d at his own table.

He’d once heard an amusing theory in his previous life: that, by some twist of fate, a Farfetch’d, upon dying, would become a Duskull—after all, their height and weight were exactly the same. An entertaining notion, but not one to be taken seriously; after all, many people share similar height and weight, yet that hardly makes them the same person.

After storing away the batch of Pokémon food, Magikarp leapt out of the creek and dutifully returned to its Poké Ball. Zhao Fang turned his attention to pitching his tent—a necessity when camping in the wild. He also scattered some powder around the perimeter, the kind whose smell repelled wild Pokémon.

“Ah, how boring. If I’d known, I would’ve brought a game console from home.” Once his tasks were done, Zhao Fang lay inside his tent, gazing at the starry sky outside. The sight was mesmerizingly pure; Littleroot Town, though small, still suffered from some light pollution. To truly see the stars, one had to camp out in the wild. Zhao Fang couldn’t help but wonder: when trainers set out on their journey and saw such a sky for the first time, did they feel awe-struck?

Just as he was about to pull out a book, Zhao Fang heard footsteps outside his tent. Instantly alert, he grabbed his Poké Ball and called out warily, “Who’s there?” His nerves were taut—this was Hoenn, after all, home to both Team Aqua and Team Magma.

But according to the games, those teams shouldn’t be anywhere near Route 101...

“Sorry to startle you. I mean no harm, just passing through to pay a visit to Professor Birch in Littleroot Town,” a gentle male voice replied. Zhao Fang, curiosity piqued, peeked out of his tent—and saw a young man with silvery-blue hair smiling at him.

Standing beside the youth was a Metagross radiating a suffocating sense of oppression. Its red eyes alone were enough to make Zhao Fang feel short of breath.

Metagross. Silver-blue hair. If Zhao Fang couldn’t recognize his visitor by now, all those hours watching TV had truly been wasted.

“Ah, if you’re heading to Littleroot Town, just go that way,” Zhao Fang stammered, swallowing hard. He never imagined that on his very first night camping, he’d run into none other than Hoenn’s Champion, Steven.

“Thank you,” Steven nodded and continued on his way. Zhao Fang watched him go, curiosity gnawing at him. Steven was a renowned user of Steel types—he could’ve simply flown to Littleroot on Metagross, so why was he traveling on foot?

Still, it was none of Zhao Fang’s business. He retreated back into his tent.

“I envy you, Magikarp,” Zhao Fang said, releasing Magikarp from its Poké Ball and gently stroking its slippery scales.

Magikarp stared at Zhao Fang, its expression blank. It flopped once or twice, showing no particular reaction to Zhao Fang’s words.

“That kind of overwhelming presence...even without making a move, you could feel the aura of a Champion.” Zhao Fang pressed his hand against Magikarp’s scales, feeling the powerful muscles beneath.

“But we’ll see his silhouette one day, won’t we?” Zhao Fang murmured, lost in thought.

With a Magikarp of exceptional potential, and the cheat of being able to increase base stats, if he couldn’t at least catch a glimpse of the Champion’s shadow, Zhao Fang might as well consider latching onto May’s coattails for a living.

Magikarp made no sound. It simply kept flopping, but with each movement, it seemed to grow more lively.