《Pokémon: Wings Of Shadow》


 1: Waking Up In The Pok茅mon World

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


    Inside the tall fences, remnants of abandoned factoriesloomed in the center, with music and bright neonlights filling the air, catching the attentionof most people.


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


    His black hairwas barely visible, and his body looked somewhat muscular.


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


    His name was Jaxon. After being hit by a truck in his old world, he closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he found himself here.


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


    Who wouldthink that waking up in an unfamiliar place meanttransmigration? Jaxon thought someone musthave dragged him here while he was unconscious.


    He checkedforhis phone and keys, but they were gone. Hisclothes were different too. He quickly realizedthat the person who dragged him here had also taken his clothes and money.


    "Who does something like this..." Jaxon muttered, wiping the sticky substance off his face, gently tapping his still aching head, and using the trashbeneath 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. Jaxon knewhe''d been hit by a truck, so he expected thiskind of pain.


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


    He couldn¡¯tstay in such a filthy place any longer; the smell was enough to choke him. His top priority nowwas to find a police officer or ask a kind stranger for help.


    ''Once I get to the police station, they¡¯ll send me to the hospital. That should solve everything¡­''Jaxon thought to himself.


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


    Unfamiliar scenes kept flashing in his mind, and the littlecreatures, both familiar and strange, made himdoubt what he was seeing.


    He had actually arrived in the world of Pok¨¦mon!


    However, this wasn¡¯t a relaxing utopia¡ªit was a harsh world where survival required constant struggle.


    Here, hisname was also Jaxon. 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 daysago, news arrived that his father had died during a failed mission.


    Once the news spread and was confirmed, a Team Yell underling led a group to his house, looting itand taking the Zigzagoon his father had left for him.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    Jaxon, full of youthful defiance, wasn¡¯t satisfied with thisand tried to find his father¡¯s old friends for help. But as soon as he stepped outside, the people who had stolen his Pok¨¦mon beat him up and threwhim into the trash heap.


    ¡®Such bad luck... for both of us.¡¯Jaxon couldn¡¯t help but laugh as he processed the information.


    However, for him, the chance to live again, and in the Pok¨¦mon world at that, was still incredibly valuable.


    Just then,a few unkempt people walked down the street, sandwiched between the two abandoned factories.


    They frequently glanced at Jaxon, who was resting against the door by the roadside, and started to gossip:


    "Isn¡¯t that Jaxon?"


    "I heardhis dad died, his Pok¨¦mon got stolen, and he justgot 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¡¯llbe late."


    "Right, let¡¯s go. I wonder what Pok¨¦mon 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.


    Jaxon only glanced at them briefly, not paying much attention.


    Thosepeople were the lowest tier in Spikemuth, with neither official League status nor membership in Team Yell. They were often struggling toeven get a meal, let alone own a Pok¨¦mon. Theycouldn¡¯t even touch a Pok¨¦ Ball. Jaxon didn¡¯t havemuch information about people like them from his memories.


    Now, he needed to head home, following the path in his memories.


    He aimed to getto a relatively safe and clean place,rest his body, and then figure out his next steps.


    His father, being a member of Team Yell, likely left behind some money and a few Pok¨¦ 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 flashing wildly, as if trying to painton the dark canvas of the night.


    The loud rock music echoed from the central area.


    It was the son of theSpikemuth Gym Leader, Piers, holding his regularconcert.


    As amember of Team Yell, one of their duties was to support the sonof the Gym Leader.


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


    Jaxon walked west and finally passed through thedilapidated street surrounded by warehouses and abandoned factories, arriving at a residential area that wasrelativelytidy.


    It was a bit far from the concert in the central area, but it was peaceful. On both sides of the street were neatly arranged houses with white wallsand red roofs.


    Following the direction he remembered, Jaxon headed toward one house, opened the unlocked courtyard gate, and walked in.


    Inside, the house was eerily quiet. The heavy black wooden door was half-open.


    At the same time, Jaxon remembered that he hadn¡¯t felt his keys on him.Now, with the courtyard gate wide open andthe 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 hiskeys, and now they mightbe inside, ransacking his house.


    If they hadn¡¯t left after robbing him, wouldn¡¯t he get beaten again?


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


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


    If thosepeople were still inside, they would either be noisy or already asleep. If they were asleep, Jaxon planned to sneak in and check.


    The house had two floors.


    The first floor was a mess. The cotton stuffing from the sofa had beenpulled out and scattered across the floor, andeverything from chairs to decorations had beendestroyed or torn apart.


    This made Jaxon relax alittle.


    Since the burglars wereso violent in dismantling the house, it was highlyunlikely they had plans to stay. They were justthere to steal things.


    He cautiously climbed the stairs to the second floor,checking each room in disarray before finally confirming that no one was there.


    However, Jaxon¡¯s expected rookie starter pack was alsogone.


    After coming down and locking the door, he walked intothe relatively clean bathroom.


    He tidied his face and changed clothes, then lay down on thebed in a room on the second floor, which was messywith scattered blankets.


    He quickly fellasleep, but in a half-awake state, he heard faintknocking on the door.

 2: Rookidee

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    "Bang! Bang! Bang!"


    The knocking on the door grew louder in Shiro''s ears, as if the person would force their way in if he didn''t open it soon.


    "Hiss..."


    Shiro was forced awake, his mind fully alert, though his limbs still ached. However, it wasn''t anything serious.


    The physical resilience and recovery ability of humans in the Pok¨¦mon world was far superior to that of Earthlings.


    "Coming, coming!"


    Shiro quickly ran downstairs while shouting, and the person knocking seemed to have heard his voice, pausing and waiting.


    Although Shiro wasn''t sure who was at the door, anyone who would keep knocking instead of breaking in definitely wasn''t one of those Team Yell thugs. Besides, he had nothing on him now, nothing worth stealing.


    The door opened to reveal a chubby man with a scruffy beard and a mohawk, a strip of pink hair standing stiffly in the middle. Dressed in a gray uniform, clearly a member of Team Yell.


    "Uncle Rabby?"


    Shiro recognized him as one of his father''s old friends from his memories.


    "Shiro? Hurry up and come in, hurry up..."


    Rabby urged, pushing his way inside and closing the door behind him. He quickly stepped over the scattered mess and made his way to a relatively intact white marble table.


    "I know things haven''t been going too well for you lately, but this is just the daily routine of Spikemuth. Your father always protected you too well..."


    As Rabby spoke, he pulled out three Pok¨¦ Balls from his coat.


    "You and I know each other, and I''m practically your uncle. I have to help you somehow..." Rabby placed the three Pok¨¦ Balls on the table and added, "These Pok¨¦mon were training partners that the Gym Leader used for Miss Marnie''s Pok¨¦mon. They were discarded after being deemed unfit for further training, so I secretly took them. You can pick one."


    "Discarded training partners?"


    Shiro muttered, his brows furrowing.


    Most of the Gym''s training partners were wild Pok¨¦mon caught for the purpose of sparring. Marnie was still young, and her Pok¨¦mon weren''t too strong, so the training partners were usually weak wild Pok¨¦mon.


    As for being discarded, that meant they had been injured during training and were no longer useful, so they were thrown away.


    Shiro couldn''t help but glance at Rabby.


    ''As a full-fledged member of Team Yell, couldn''t he at least put in the effort to catch a healthy wild Pok¨¦mon instead?''


    Rabby seemed to read Shiro''s thoughts. He sighed, clutching his stomach.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    "Sigh... Do you think catching Pok¨¦mon is that easy? I''m weak, you know... Besides, the moment I heard what happened to you, I rushed over. I was worried you''d do something reckless. I didn''t have time to find you a better Pok¨¦mon. Shiro, just make do with one of these for now."


    After speaking, he pushed the Pok¨¦ Balls toward the center of the table and introduced them one by one.


    "These three are Blipbug, Skwovet, and Rookidee. You can release them and interact with them, but they''re injured, so they might be a bit aggressive. Be careful."


    Shiro examined the Pok¨¦ Balls carefully before asking, "Can''t I take all of them?"


    "Of course not!" Rabby waved his hand. "There are two others besides you, people who were in the same squad as your father when he died."


    ''Two others? They died with my father? But how?'' Shiro had no memory of how his father had died.


    He was filled with confusion but, noticing Rabby''s sorrowful expression, he decided to hold back his questions for now.


    Peering through the semi-transparent red tops of the Pok¨¦ Balls, Shiro saw the three Pok¨¦mon inside. Each one was glaring angrily, ready to charge out.


    Among the three, Blipbug seems partially paralyzed, unable to move its lower half. Skwovet had a soft, bushy tail that was now patchy, while Rookidee had a broken wing.


    Looking at their injuries, it was clear that Skwovet had the lightest wounds and would likely recover the quickest, forming a fighting force soon. However, it kept showing its teeth, looking the most aggressive of the three.


    Blipbug was clearly not an option, and Rookidee seemed to be watching cautiously, its injured wing tucked protectively.


    More importantly, Shiro knew that Rookidee''s final evolution, Corviknight, was a Pok¨¦mon with significant status in the Galar region. Not only was it strong and majestic in appearance, but its historical significance made it a symbol of Galar.


    If Shiro hadn''t played Sword and Shield and raised a Rookidee into Corviknight himself, he would have never guessed that this common bird Pok¨¦mon evolved into such a powerful creature.


    "I choose Rookidee." Shiro decided after a moment''s thought.


    "Rookidee, huh? Alright, it''s yours then. I''ve done what I can to help..." Rabby said, putting away the other two Pok¨¦ Balls while muttering to himself, ready to leave.


    "Wait! Uncle Rabby." Shiro called, stopping him.


    "Could you do me one more favor? You must have some healing spray, right? Could I borrow some?"


    Rabby paused, one hand on his large belly and the other scratching his mohawk, his brows furrowing in hesitation.


    Shiro could tell that Rabby wasn''t eager to lend him the spray, but he also confirmed that Rabby had it.


    He quickly added, "Uncle, if you can help, please do. In exchange, feel free to take anything you want from this house. How about that for a bottle of healing spray?"


    Rabby''s eyes quickly scanned the room, and he immediately caught on to Shiro''s offer. He sighed deeply.


    "Ah, you clever kid! Fine, I''ll give you a bottle of healing spray, but just so you know, anything useful in here is mine. I''ll be back in a couple of days to pick things up."


    As he spoke, Rabby reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of white spray, handing it over to Shiro.


    Shiro took it with a careful hand, inspecting it thoroughly, causing Rabby to complain, "Still don''t trust your uncle, huh?"


    "Heh, of course I trust you. Now hurry up and go, there are two others waiting for you!" Shiro smiled, assuring Rabby, before swiftly ushering him out the door.


    "Bang!"


    The door slammed shut as Shiro quickly locked it again. Only then did he turn back to the white marble table.


    Shiro was certain that his uncle wasn''t acting out of goodwill. Even though Rabby had given him a Pok¨¦mon, it was clear there were ulterior motives.


    Three injured, weak Pok¨¦mon¡ªrejected by the Gym Leader, used as sparring partners. Even though they were in Shiro''s hands now, it was unlikely that the Gym would pursue the matter. But in normal circumstances, where would these discarded Pok¨¦mon end up?


    Shiro immediately thought of the starving youths at the bottom of society.


    ''They must have been talking about these Pok¨¦mon in the streets earlier.''


    This was their only chance to get their hands on a Pok¨¦mon. Now, that opportunity had been cut off by Rabby and placed into his hands.


    If someone had deliberately spread the word, those youths would likely come after him. And there was also the trouble with the other two.


    But he couldn''t just leave the Pok¨¦mon unused.


    Shiro thought it over, holding the Pok¨¦ Ball firmly and pressing the button.


    "Come out, Rookidee!"


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