Pokémon: Master of the Rain Team

Taking advantage of the fact that Magikarp was still unconscious, Reiji began to process it.

Honestly, if not for the fact that this dumb thing was just a flop of a fish, Magikarp actually looked pretty nice from the outside—its appearance alone could whet the appetite.

Magikarp was a large red fish, clearly based on the red koi of Reiji’s past life. It had long whiskers like a catfish, a golden crown-like dorsal fin atop its head, and gender differences: male Magikarp had yellow whiskers, while females had white ones.

Running his hand over the fish’s stiff, armor-like scales, Reiji admired it for a moment before getting to work descaling. Since the scales were so tough, he opted to gut it first—and as his hand reached inside, he felt a clump of granular objects.

When he brought the yellowish granules into the firelight, he realized what they were.

Roe. Unlaid Magikarp eggs.

He wasn’t even surprised. Magikarp’s global overpopulation was thanks to another one of its traits besides sheer vitality: reproduction. And lots of it. That’s the survival strategy of the Magikarp species—an absurdly high reproductive rate that allowed them to spread across every body of water in the world.

According to the fishmonger who once conned James, every female Magikarp could lay up to a thousand eggs per year. Honestly, Reiji thought that number was probably conservative—especially when factoring in hatch rate, survival rate, and other variables. There were probably even more.

So no, the fishmonger wasn’t wrong. Magikarp really could churn out life in bulk, like chickens laying eggs.

But… the damn thing wasn’t even worth money. No matter how prolific they were, it didn’t matter—Magikarp were everywhere.

Only the ones that evolved into Gyarados had any real value.

And therein lay the dilemma. Just like Schrödinger’s cat, you’d never know if a Magikarp was ”alive” (i.e. able to evolve) until you opened the box. Until a Magikarp evolved into a Gyarados, no one could know for sure if it ever would.

What if you dumped all your resources into training one, only to find it couldn’t evolve? It would all go down the drain.

No trainer would willingly invest so much into a gamble with no guaranteed payoff. You’d be better off just capturing a Gyarados directly—faster and more efficient.

Unless, of course, you had money to burn. Then sure, raise whatever Pokémon you want.

Lost in thought, Reiji finished butchering the Magikarp.

To avoid repeating past mistakes, he decided not to leave any innards lying around for the Krabby scavengers. Instead, he planned to make a seafood soup with the roe, some edible organs, and fish oil, all cooked in his frying pan.

Thankfully it was seafood—already salty—because going without salt for long would sap anyone’s strength.

The leftover fish bones were roasted over the fire until crisp. He figured the calcium would be good for Poliwag’s development, helping it adjust to life on land. As it stood, the little guy’s legs were still soft, and walking looked like a struggle.

Turns out Misty wasn’t wrong—Magikarp really didn’t have much meat. Aside from the guts, it was just bones with tiny shreds of muscle attached.

If only it had been a Farfetch’d—at least those come with their own side dish.

Reiji couldn’t help but drool a little at the thought.

Tonight’s dinner was shaping up nicely: one grilled fish skeleton, and a pot of seaweed, shellfish, and roe soup.

Since the Magikarp hardly yielded anything edible, Reiji had tossed in some of the shellfish and seaweed he collected to bulk up the meal. The ingredients bubbled and rolled in the pan, releasing a mouthwatering aroma that had him swallowing saliva on reflex.

There was no technique to this—it was just a big pot of thrown-together leftovers, meant to fill his stomach, not to impress anyone.

It was a far cry from fine dining. But after a whole day of starving and wrestling with that dumb fish, it smelled like heaven to him.

Fish guts cooked faster than bones, and the stew was almost ready before the grilling was even done.

This time, he wasn’t going to cool it down first—he was treating it like hot pot. Their bowls? Two broad leaves he’d flattened out earlier. One for him, one for Poliwag.

”Yo-yo? Yo-yo?” Poliwag sniffed at the aroma with obvious hunger and anticipation.

Meat really did satisfy better than plants. All day, the little guy had been snacking on seaweed, and it clearly wasn’t enough. Now it was practically drooling.

”Easy, it’s almost done,” Reiji said, noticing Poliwag’s huge black eyes practically staring into the pan. He quickly grabbed a few pieces of fish innards with his makeshift chopsticks and dropped them onto the leaf.

”Yo-ho! Yo-ho!” Poliwag leapt forward and chomped down without hesitation—only to immediately spit it back out, fanning its mouth and gasping in pain.

”Hot, huh?” Reiji said, both amused and exasperated. He grabbed the tin cup and filled it with cool water.

Poliwag gulped it down, but the burning sensation didn’t fade. The poor little thing kept rolling around in the sand, clearly still in pain.

”Did you forget about Refresh?”

”Yo?” Poliwag blinked. And then it hit him—of course! Refresh! Why hadn’t he thought of that?!

”Yo-yo, yo-yo…” Embarrassed, Poliwag blushed and looked away. So humiliating! Forgetting one of his own moves like that… how disgraceful.

He wanted nothing more than to bury his head in the sand.

But just as he was about to activate Refresh, a familiar sound rang out—and triggered him instantly.

”Gwaaaaak… gwaaaak…”

”That annoying Wingull again,” Reiji sighed, rubbing his forehead. ”This isn’t good.”

Poliwag, who seconds ago had been rolling in the sand in agony, immediately forgot all about the burn. His whole body tensed with rage. He turned to the nearby rock where the Wingull had perched and fired a furious Water Gun.

Unfortunately… it didn’t even come close. His aim was off, and the range was poor.

Typical. He’d only just learned the move.

(End of Chapter)

[+50 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]