In the early evening, there was already a chill in the air around Spikemuth, a town covered in chaotic graffiti.

  Ihe tall fences, remnants of abandoned factories loomed in the ter, with musid bright neon lights filling the air, catg the attention of most people.

  In a narrow alley, some distance away from the fences, foul-smelling bck water flowed from a pile of garbage onto the street. Among the pile of garbage y a young man, covered in blood.

  His bck hair was barely visible, and his body looked somewhat muscur.

  He frowned, struggling to open his eyes. But the fshing lights and the stench kept irritating his senses.

  His name was Shiro. After being hit by a tru his old world, he closed his eyes, and when he opehem again, he found himself here.

  'Where am I?' Shiro looked around, not realizing he had transmigrated. The smell of motor oil from the truck still lingered in his mind.

  Who would think that waking up in an unfamiliar pce meant transmigration? Shiro thought someone must have dragged him here while he was unscious.

  He checked for his phone and keys, but they were gone. His clothes were different as well, and he quickly realized the person whht him here had also taken his money.

  "Who does something like this..." Shiro muttered, wiping the sticky substance off his face, gently tapping his still ag head, and using the trash beh him to push himself up.

  But as soon as he tried to move, sharp pain shot through his arm, and his legs didn't cooperate. Shiro knew he'd been hit by a truck, so he expected this kind of pain.

  Using sheer willpower, Shiro leaned against the pile of trash, unsteadily standing up and trembling as he walked toward the end of the alley.

  He couldn't stay in such a filthy py lohe smell was enough to choke him. His top priority now was to find a police officer or ask a kind stranger for help.

  'Once I get to the police station, they'll seo the hospital. That should solve everything…' Shiro thought to himself.

  Suddenly, the dizziness in his head deepened, f him to lean on a rusted metal roll-up door and stop to recover.

  Unfamiliar ses kept fshing in his mind, and the little creatures, both familiar and strange, made him doubt what he was seeing.

  He had actually arrived in the world of Pokémon!

  However, this wasn't a rexing utopia—it was a harsh world where survival required stant struggle.

  Here, his name was also Shiro. His father was a member of Team Yell, a respected team leader who was said to be up for a promotion soon. But just two days ago, news arrived that his father had died during a failed mission.

  Ohe news spread and was firmed, a Team Yell underling led a group to his house, looting it and taking the Zigzagoon his father had left for him.

  Shiro, full of youthful defiance, wasn't satisfied with this and tried to find his father's old friends for help. But as soon as he stepped outside, the people who had stolen his Pokémo him up and threw him into the trash heap.

  'Such bad luck... for both of us.' Shiro couldn't help but ugh as he processed the information.

  However, for him, the ce to live again, and in the Pokémon world at that, was still incredibly valuable.

  Just then, a few u people walked dowreet, sandwiched betweewo abandoned factories.

  They frequently g Shiro, who was resting against the door by the roadside, and started to gossip:

  "Isn't that Shiro?"

  "I heard his dad died, his Pokémon got stolen, and he just got beat up..."

  "Seriously? Aren't there two others who went through the same thing? They were all on the same team. But it's none of our business. Let's go, or we'll be te."

  "Right, let's go. I wonder okémon it is this time. If it's just one or two and someone else gets to it first, we're screwed…"

  While speaking, the boys quickly ran off.

  Shiro only g them briefly, not paying much attention.

  Those people were the lowest tier in Spikemuth, with her official League status nor membership in Team Yell. They were often struggling to eve a meal, let alone ookémon. They couldn't even touch a Poké Ball. He didn't have muformation about people like them from his memories.

  Now, Shiro o head home, following the path he remembered.

  He aimed to get to a retively safe and pce, rest his body, and then figure out his steps.

  His father, being a member of Team Yell, likely left behind some money and a few Poké Balls.

  These should serve as his rookie starter pack.

  By now, the night was in full swing, and the neon lights in Spikemuth's sky flickered erratically, their colorful beams fshing wildly, as if trying to paint on the dark vas of the night.

  The loud rock music echoed from the tral area.

  It was the son of the Spikemuth Gym Leader, Piers, holding his regur cert.

  As a member of Team Yell, one of their duties was to support the son of the Gym Leader.

  It was said that Piers, worried about the dee of his hometown, came up with the idea of music to try to revitalize it. And now, he had indeed gained quite a following, though most of his fans were from Spikemuth itself.

  Shiro walked west, passing through the dipidated streets surrounded by warehouses and abandoned factories, until he reached a retively tidy residential area.

  It was a bit far from the cert in the tral area, but it eaceful. On both sides of the street were ly arranged houses with white walls and red roofs.

  Following the dire in his memories, Shiro headed toward one house, opehe unlocked courtyard gate, and walked in.

  Ihe house was eerily quiet. The heavy bck wooden door was half-open.

  At the same time, Shiro remembered that he hadn't felt his keys on him. Now, with the courtyard gate wide open and the house door also not closed, a bad feeling crept up on him.

  It was very likely that the people who had beaten him up had also stolen his keys, and now they might be inside, ransag his house.

  If they hadn't left after robbing him, wouldn't he get beaten again?

  Shiro stopped in the dark courtyard, staring at the silent door. He decided to approach slowly.

  He first crept to the side of the wall o the door, listening quietly for a while. When he heard nothing, he gently ehe house.

  If those people were still ihey would either be noisy or already asleep. If they were asleep, Shiro po sneak in and check.

  The house had two floors.

  The first floor was a mess. The cotton stuffing from the sofa had been pulled out and scattered across the floor, and everything from chairs to decorations had beeroyed or torn apart.

  This made Shiro rex a little.

  Sihe burgrs were so violent in dismantling the house, it was highly uhey had pns to stay. They were just there to steal things.

  He cautiously climbed the stairs to the sed floor, cheg ea in disarray before finally firming that no one was there.

  However, Shiro's expected rookie starter pack was also gone.

  After ing down and log the door, he walked into the retively bathroom.

  He tidied his fad ged clothes, then y down on the bed in a room on the sed floor, which was messy with scattered bs.

  He quickly fell asleep, but in a half-awake state, he heard faint knog on the door.

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  Hey guys, I'm here with another novel. As the synopsis says, this fic will be set in a darker, more realistion world (AU). The MC, Shiro, will be simir to Reid, Calm, Calg, and Ruthless. If you liked reading that novel, you will definitely like it. Anyways, I hope you guys will enjoy this novel.