Pokemon: Helping Pokemon Pays Off

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"This… this… did I transmigrate again?"

Hoshino gripped the balcony railing, peering down. The street that had been empty that afternoon was now ablaze with neon lights, bustling with life!

Crowds filled the streets—or rather, Pokémon filled the streets. Pokémon strolled around or stood in front of shops, welcoming guests!

There was a Gumshoos, looking like it had just finished a day's patrol, leading a group of young Yungoos recruits, chatting and introducing them to the surroundings, fostering bonds between senior and junior members.

A couple of Incineroar, seemingly fresh from a wrestling match, had their arms around each other's shoulders, swaggering down the street like drunkards, laughing boisterously, forcing other Pokémon to step aside.

Then there were Gardevoir and Gothitelle, dressed like humans, handbags in hand, cheerfully shopping together like best friends.

And that was just the tip of the iceberg. If these were humans, it'd be a normal bustling nightlife scene—but with only Pokémon, it was downright bizarre!

Hoshino's hands trembled slightly as he gripped the railing. He instinctively stepped back into the room, struggling to process what he'd just seen.

"I must've opened the door wrong…"

Thinking this, he shut the door, ignored the noisy street sounds, waited a few seconds, then reopened it.

"It's still the same!"

"I only slept for six hours… How did the whole world change?!"

Checking his phone's time, Hoshino couldn't make sense of it. Just a few hours ago, the street was empty. Was this some hidden side quest?

He looked around, feeling like the last human left in the world. Pokémon were everywhere, chatting in their own language—none of which he understood.

Then he noticed an LED sign downstairs, flashing bright lights. Though he couldn't read it clearly from this angle, he guessed it probably said 'Slowpoke Izakaya.' It was open!

Determined to figure things out, he dashed downstairs toward the shop.

"If the place is open, I'll just ask the owner. After all, Slowking's just a Pokémon—there's gotta be a human trainer running this place. And technically, we're neighbors!"

As soon as he reached the street, some Pokémon noticed him.

But Hoshino didn't pay attention, nor did he sense the unfriendly stares from a few of them. He rushed straight into the izakaya.

The interior had a retro vibe—wooden floors and walls mimicking traditional designs.

On the left, wooden tables were neatly arranged. Machoke and Conkeldurr sat there, looking like they'd just finished construction work, drinking happily like regular human customers.

To the right was a long bar counter with a Slowpoke lazily sprawled across it, gazing into space and occasionally muttering, "Sloooow~"

Barstools lined the counter, though none were occupied. Behind the bar stood the Slowking, reading a newspaper, exuding an air of wisdom.

"…???"

Wait… don't tell me…

Hoshino's mind raced. Slowking glanced up, meeting his gaze with that ever-wise expression.

"Slow?"

"Uh…"

Unsure what to do next, Hoshino nervously approached, sitting at the bar to gather information.

"Slow reason?"

"Well…"

Resting his hands on the counter, Hoshino hesitated before blurting out, "Why are there only Pokémon here? And why do they act like humans—shopping, eating, drinking, chatting? And… are you really the owner?"

He spilled all his questions in one go. Whether Slowking answered or not didn't matter—he just needed to voice his confusion.

But to his shock, Slowking casually turned, pulled out a lollipop, unwrapped it, and popped it in his mouth like a cigarette, savoring the taste.

After a moment, Slowking squinted, tapping the counter rhythmically with one hand, and finally said, "What do you think this place is? This is Kabuore Kabukicho… Kabukicho, you hear?"

"Kabukicho? What's that? This isn't something that should exist in the Pokémon worl—wait…"

Hoshino froze mid-sentence, realizing something even more absurd.

"Slowking… you just talked!"

"Telepathy. What's the big deal?"

"Huh… oh. But this afternoon—"

"I only use telepathy when talking to you humans. After all, you clueless folks can't understand our language. It's such a hassle."

"…Sorry for being too dumb, I guess."

Hoshino apologized reflexively, then blinked, realizing this wasn't the point. "No, wait! What exactly is Kabukicho?!"

He felt like he was becoming the embodiment of endless questions. Despite claiming to be a Pokémon expert, none of his knowledge helped here.

Thankfully, Slowking, after a moment of contemplation, answered.

"Kabukicho is a Pokémon's nightlife paradise, a city that never sleeps. Did you think we Pokémon only exist to battle and look cute? How naïve!"

"Uh…"

Hoshino had never thought that way. To him, Pokémon were living beings with emotions, just like humans.

Slowking continued, "Pokémon—whether living in the wild, wandering the city, or caught by trainers—we all experience stress."

"For example, frustrations from a Pokémon's daily life with their Trainer—like not being chosen for battles, Trainers favoring newly caught Pokémon, growing weaker compared to the rest of the team, or being left in the backyard, sometimes not seen for months or even years…"

"Who can guarantee that every Trainer truly cares about all their Pokémon? I've met humans who don't even remember how many Pokémon they've caught. When these feelings of neglect build up with no outlet, what do you think happens to those Pokémon?"

Hearing this, Hoshino's eyes narrowed as realization slowly dawned. "Could it be…"

"That's right!"

Slowking nodded sagely, continuing, "That's exactly why Kabuore Kabukicho exists. Here, sharp-minded Pokémon can open businesses, while others spend money—or trade equivalent goods—for entertainment and relaxation. This is a Pokémon's paradise, their city of nightlife!"

"Hiss—"

Hoshino sucked in a breath, feeling like his understanding of Pokémon had just expanded. In games, he'd only learned about them through lore and settings.

But to think that real, living Pokémon had this hidden side… though, something about it still felt off.

"Wait a minute! How can such a massive Kabukicho exist without any humans noticing? Or has no Pokémon ever told their Trainer about it?"

Hoshino was baffled. Even if the district disguised itself as an abandoned area during the day, at night—with all these neon lights—surely someone would notice?

At this, Slowking chuckled dismissively, as if expecting the question.

"Because this place belongs to the Four Kings of Kabukicho. They control everything here. If you've got questions, go ask them!"

"…???"

Hoshino was left speechless. Four Kings?

It seemed things were about to get even stranger.

...

Which one should I use?

"Motosh! Motosh!"

or

"Cyclii!"