Reiji had managed to preserve a thumb-sized bit of bait. He hadn't fed it to the Poliwag—because that last cast had been a desperate, all-in gamble.
When he tossed the bait, he noticed how Poliwag's wide, black eyes were completely locked onto it, ready to leap into the water after it.
To stop Poliwag from ruining his bait, Reiji instinctively reached out and grabbed the jumping little guy before it could dive in.
Once in his arms, Poliwag turned its head in confusion, curiously examining the human that had suddenly scooped it up, not understanding why it was being held.
Reiji, realizing this was a hot potato in his hands, quickly set Poliwag back down before it could decide to bite him.
Scratching his nose awkwardly, he tried to explain why it couldn't eat the bait—even if he wasn't sure it could understand him. Still, he hoped it would.
"Poliwag, that's not food. I need it for fishing…"
"Yoo? Yoo!"
Poliwag tilted its head with its big sparkling eyes, making a face that said it kind of got it… maybe. This human sure was weird.
Still, the human wasn't too bad. Since he said not to eat it, Poliwag decided not to.
Seeing the little guy settle quietly at his feet without trying to jump into the water again, Reiji was finally able to focus on waiting for a bite.
But he couldn't help but wonder—was his bait just not compatible with this world? Two whole days of fishing, and he hadn't even gotten a nibble. Only the little freeloader Poliwag showed any interest.
Whether this final cast would land anything was now entirely up to fate. Two days and a night of nonstop effort had brought his fishing proficiency all the way to 9.99%.
If it worked, he'd have a hot meal.
If not, he'd go to bed hungry—again—and try something else tomorrow.
Unless he absolutely had no choice, he wouldn't venture into the forest behind him. That would be suicide. He wanted to live. He wasn't ready to die.
But clearly, luck was on his side. That Wishiwashi he caught was the reward of his all-or-nothing gamble.
And right after landing it, his fishing proficiency finally ticked over to ten.
He glanced at his panel again. The nine was gone. It now read:
[Proficiency: (Fishing / 10%)]
…
"Poliwag, that's enough. Stop slapping it!" Reiji rushed over, worried the little guy would smash the Wishiwashi to pieces.
He hadn't expected Poliwag to be so helpful. That assist was pretty solid. Reiji gave it a discreet thumbs-up.
"Yo-hoo! Yo-hoo!"
Poliwag stopped but was panting hard—one slap and it was already exhausted.
Well, they were two of a kind. Both starving, both stubborn.
Truly, misery does love company.
Kneeling down beside the fainted Wishiwashi, Reiji inspected its condition. It was only knocked out—still perfectly edible.
He picked it up, ready to cook it.
But after scanning his surroundings, he realized—damn. No fire.
How was he supposed to roast fish without fire?!
Frustrated, he flung the fish back onto the sand and reached for a cigarette to cool off.
Click.
The lighter sparked. A flame rose to the tip of his cigarette—and he froze.
Wait. This was fire.
So his lighter had transmigrated with him after all.
He'd been so obsessed with catching a fish all day that he'd completely forgotten.
Under the moonlight, he gathered scattered driftwood from the beach and lit a fire.
Being by the sea, the temperature dropped sharply at night. The ocean breeze was cold.
Once the fire was crackling, Reiji pulled a folding knife from his keychain and looked down at the unconscious fish.
There were no people here. Just a savage island where nature devoured the weak. If he didn't eat, he'd starve—or get eaten by some carnivorous Pokémon.
He knew this fish was a Pokémon. But still, he wanted to live.
He wanted to survive, leave this island behind, and experience everything this brilliant world had to offer.
If someday he ended up getting eaten instead, then so be it.
But as long as he was alive, he'd carve out a future for himself on this island—no matter how harsh it was.
It was either get eaten or grow strong.
No third option.
With a light stroke of the blade, he gutted and cleaned the fish, skewered it on a stick, and propped it over the fire.
As the fat sizzled and the aroma of roasted meat filled the air, Reiji brought the fish close to his nose to smell. It was the first real scent of food he'd had in two days.
His appetite surged. His mouth watered.
He couldn't wait to dig in.
But just as he opened his mouth to bite, he noticed Poliwag staring at him, wide-eyed and teary.
Reiji had to swallow his saliva and stop mid-bite.
That little guy had helped a lot.
Maybe he could share a bit?
Then again… he shook his head.
Poliwag already ate his bait. It shouldn't be that hungry anymore.
Maybe he'd share the next fish.
He turned away, ignoring those pitiful eyes.
Survival came first. No question.
If someone was starving and still gave food to others—that kind of person was noble. He'd happily admire them.
But he wasn't one of them.
His twenty-plus years of life in the previous world had taught him: cold detachment saves you trouble.
Of course, that didn't mean he wouldn't help people when he could—just that he didn't need recognition. That was his way.
Still, as he bit into the first piece of grilled fish, those watery eyes wouldn't leave his mind.
The food didn't even taste as good anymore.
Crunch.
Eventually, he sighed and gave in.
He broke the branch and the fish in half, then tossed the head portion to Poliwag.
The little guy squealed with joy, leapt into the air, and chomped down on the fish head, chewing happily.
"Yoo-yoo! Yoo-yoo!"
It wasn't much, but for two starving souls, it was enough to take the edge off.
After finishing the fish, Reiji tossed more wood on the fire—sticks he'd gathered earlier. It should last until morning.
The temperature drop by the sea was no joke.
Without this fire, he probably would've frozen.
And the grilled fish he just ate? Didn't help his thirst one bit. His throat was bone-dry.
But no matter how thirsty he was, he had to endure.
Wandering around the wilderness of the Pokémon world at night?
That was a death sentence.
He leaned back on a boulder, hands folded behind his head, throat burning with thirst, eyes staring into the fire, thinking about how he'd survive on this island.
Rather than waiting for some imaginary rescue, he had to find a way to live.
In his old world, surviving on a deserted island was already a serious challenge.
Now it was Pokémon island survival—a whole different level.
He wasn't a pro survivalist. Just a fisherman.
But he had one advantage: the proficiency panel.
If that panel could apply to Pokémon too…
When he had picked up Poliwag earlier, the panel hadn't reacted.
Maybe something was missing?
"Right… a Poké Ball."
He remembered how the original game had displayed all kinds of data about the Pokémon. If that worked here too… things could get interesting.
But he didn't have any Poké Balls.
He couldn't even test the idea.
On this deserted island, there weren't even people—let alone Poké Balls.
If he were in a city, maybe he could do part-time work and buy one.
But here? No chance.
Worse still, he was undocumented. No ID, no record.
Honestly, he was just glad he hadn't been captured by slave traffickers.
Also, ever since he got here… he'd been ten years younger.
Back to that miserable age—fifteen.
He was just a kid again...
(End of Chapter)
[+50 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]