Staring at the Carvanha laid out on the sand, Reiji grinned at Poliwag and said excitedly, "Poliwag, this thing weighs around forty pounds! Take out the guts and bones, and we still have at least thirty pounds of meat. That's enough to last us several days. Whatever we don't finish, we can dry into jerky."
"Yoo-yoo? (^o^) Yoo-yoo!"
Poliwag didn't understand why this human, who was looking so worried just a moment ago, was now grinning like a fool.
But seeing Reiji happy made it happy too—for reasons it couldn't explain. It even began hopping with joy.
The Carvanha didn't look especially large—about half a meter long. Definitely still a juvenile. It hadn't reached the official 0.8-meter length yet, nor did it weigh forty pounds.
Still, once the guts and bones were removed, it could yield at least 10 to 20 pounds of meat.
Carvanha, classified as the Savage Pokémon, had a blue back, red belly, and yellow fins (except for its tail). The fins looked like rows of sharp barbs sticking out from all sides of its body, with a star-shaped pattern on its underside.
As a carnivorous aquatic Pokémon, it was known for its viciousness, strong jaw, and razor-sharp teeth—supposedly powerful enough to bite through the hull of a boat.
They could detect even the faintest traces of blood and often attacked prey in swarms. Numerous ships had been sunk by their assaults.
With the fish still unconscious, Reiji began preparing it. He buried the organs and waste in the sand—they'd make good bait tomorrow.
This time, no way he was going to let the Kingler freeload that prize. His future food supply depended on it.
Although the leaf-lure technique had proven effective, it was far too unpredictable. Success depended completely on luck.
And Reiji had had enough of trusting damn luck to eat. A fisherman needs fish—not excuses.
Once the Carvanha was cleaned, he split it in two and placed both halves on the fire to roast.
He'd been starving for days, and at this point, had completely lost control over his appetite. He just wanted to eat until he was full.
As for Poliwag—that little glutton was a Pokémon, after all. It could probably eat even more than him.
Still, Reiji recalled from the Pokémon anime that Poliwag ate aquatic plants—certain water weeds appeared in a few episodes.
But here, there was grass everywhere. He had no idea which kind Poliwag was supposed to eat—or if it could eat them all.
Maybe it had some kind of eating disorder. Otherwise, why would it have been so starved?
Or maybe it was just too afraid to enter the sea—worried about being preyed on by something fiercer.
Too many unknowns. He didn't have the energy to figure it out.
He'd think about it once they were stable.
Right now, the priority was getting this Carvanha roasted so that both he and Poliwag could finally enjoy a real meal.
Once the fish was grilled to a crispy, golden-brown finish, Reiji removed it from the fire, sniffing deeply at the aroma.
It wasn't gourmet-quality or anything.
Just barely edible.
The reason it smelled so delicious was simple: hunger.
When you're starving, anything tastes amazing.
This was only his second cooked meal in days, and already his mouth felt dry and irritated from the roasted food.
In his dehydrated state, eating anything salty or dry only made his thirst worse.
Tomorrow, he absolutely had to find a fresh water source.
Morning dew wasn't cutting it anymore—he needed something consistent and reliable.
He had already divided the Carvanha in half before cooking.
Now that his portion was done, Poliwag's side should be ready too.
He placed the other half on a large leaf and laid it in front of Poliwag.
Staring at the fragrant, steaming roast, Poliwag—who had no hands—could only lean over the leaf and tear at the fish meat with its mouth.
Once he saw Poliwag start eating, Reiji turned to his own half and began devouring it.
They had both gone an entire day without food—he was already seeing stars from hunger.
He tore into the fish ravenously, mouth slick with oil.
Man and Pokémon sat by the fire, stuffing themselves with grilled fish.
Reiji had only eaten half his portion before he started hiccuping—a sign he was finally full.
There was still half a portion left, which he planned to leave by the fire to dry out for breakfast.
But when he glanced over at Poliwag's leaf—there was nothing left.
Not even a scrap.
Poliwag was licking the leaf clean.
Seeing that, Reiji decided not to dry his leftovers.
He placed the rest of his fish on Poliwag's leaf instead.
"Yoo-yoo? Yoo-yoo?"
Poliwag blinked its big, round eyes. It had just finished eating—so why was there suddenly more fish in front of it?
Then it spotted the hand that had placed the meat.
A human hand.
It didn't understand what Reiji was saying, but it understood one thing:
This human had given it the best-tasting food.
"I'm full. This is for you. Eat up," Reiji said, not sure if Poliwag could understand him.
After feeding the fire a few more sticks, he lay back against a large rock, hands folded behind his head.
Tonight, for the first time, he didn't need to sleep under the stars.
He had a roof—a patched-up sheet of cloth he'd repaired at midday.
"Yoo? Yoo…"
Poliwag tilted its head.
It still didn't understand what Reiji was saying.
But it understood something else—that this human had shared something precious with it.
It had already eaten half a fish.
It was almost full.
Now another half?
Poliwag stared at the fish, drooling.
But then it closed its mouth tightly, shook its head hard, and forced the thought out of its mind.
It bit the stick skewering the fish and waddled over to Reiji.
Despite having legs, Poliwag still wasn't comfortable walking on land—it clearly preferred the water.
Still, it made it all the way to Reiji and planted the fish in the sand in front of him, chirping as if to say:
"I don't want it. You eat it."
"Heh…"
Reiji looked down at the fish.
The stick was soaked with the little guy's drool.
He smiled helplessly.
It was obvious Poliwag really wanted to eat it—
but it had restrained itself.
That reminded Reiji of a popular saying from his previous world's Pokémon community:
"There are no useless Pokémon—only useless Trainers."
Sure, his starter wasn't bad.
At least it wasn't something like Caterpie.
But Poliwag's potential was only 31%—he knew what that meant.
Trash.
Utterly mediocre.
Without a massive investment of resources, Poliwag would never amount to anything.
No Trainer would ever choose a Pokémon this plain, this underdeveloped, as their starter.
Malnourished. Under-evolved.
Mediocre in every sense.
No one would ever place their bets on a Pokémon like this.
(End of Chapter)
[+50 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]