Chapter One: The Emergence of the Old Ice Pop

“We crave his power, yet fear his very existence.”

“We sealed him away in the cold, but it was more like he simply fell asleep.”

“Pray to the god of pleasant dreams, and let him slumber on.”

“Don’t let him crawl back from the spirit world.”

…

Kanto region, Caggy Town.

A robust old man, bundled tightly against the wind and snow, made his way to a lonely building.

“My apologies, Professor Oak. The recent blizzard blocked the roads; the path to Caggy Gym was tough going,” said the staff member who had been waiting outside, hurrying to open the door and offer a cup of hot water.

“It’s nothing. Consider it exercise,” replied Oak, a muscular elder whose physique inspired envy in the young man, though he didn’t forget his duties.

“Please, come with me. Elder Liu is waiting for you.”

“Oh? I didn’t expect him to wait for me,” Oak said as he opened the room’s door. “What’s this? Have you finally achieved some comfort and learned a bit of courtesy?”

A thin figure leaning on a cane glanced back, tapping the floor absentmindedly.

“Xuecheng, the ice is melting.”

Before them stood a massive block of ice, less a simple chunk than a monumental tomb and seal, according to the ancient inscription they’d found.

Many things were sealed in ancient times, but it was rare to see a person completely sealed away.

By chance, Elder Liu had discovered this enormous coffin of ice—and the living being imprisoned within.

A long-haired child.

The horror emerged over time: as the ice shrank, the child inside grew, in perfect sync.

Now, the one within looked no different from a normal eighteen-year-old.

Professor Oak’s expression turned grave—then, at once, fell apart.

Because from within that giant block of ice—an oversized crystalline coffin—came the sound of cracking.

“So this is what you meant by ‘the ice is melting’?!” Oak exclaimed.

Elder Liu replied coolly, “When you saw the size of it, you should have been prepared, shouldn’t you?”

Oak wanted to argue, but instinctively kept his hand on his Poké Ball, alert for danger.

Suddenly, an arm burst through the icy barrier with a thunderous crash. The force of it made Elder Liu clutch his cane tightly, and even the little Swinub nearby shook its fur.

Yet what happened next defied their expectations.

The young man sealed within the ice stepped out, his stomach rumbling audibly as he gazed at the two old men in confusion.

He looked as lost as someone with amnesia.

The two pillars of their era fell silent, beginning to wonder if the ancients had played some elaborate joke on them.

His eyes, to be honest, hardly seemed the sort that needed close surveillance—nothing about his gaze suggested a terrifying threat.

Then Elder Liu’s calm eyes settled on him. Though his body had aged, the will within was as cold and unyielding as ancient ice.

“So, you’re the one who changed my fate?”

The man from the ice remained silent—he truly didn’t know what to say.

As far as he could recall, he’d made a wish in his previous life: to live in the world of Pokémon for his second life.

Or perhaps, he’d simply hoped for a better world.

If given the choice, who would want to face life’s hardships every day, getting knocked down until even their life was forfeit?

But why did the current scene feel so bizarre? Why were these two bigwigs so wary of him?

“Wuu!”

Just then, as the three of them remained silent, a creature resembling both a plesiosaur and a sea monster rushed over, rearing up to embrace the ice-block man in a loving hug.

“Wuu, wuu—”

He gently wrapped his arms around the long neck of this “sea monster.”

“There, there.”

“Hello, Lapras.”

Lapras paused, then, overjoyed, pounced and knocked him to the ground, nuzzling its huge head against him.

Professor Oak was astonished. “This must be the child of your two Lapras. I didn’t expect them to have grown so big.”

The two old men, left out of this reunion, exchanged glances.

Well, there was no sign of why the ancients had sealed him away—could it really have been a joke?

“Ahem.” Professor Oak cleared his throat, hand clenched. “Since things are as they are, why not…invite our guest for a meal?”

He truly didn’t know how to address the young man before him—this ancient icebound youth could be far older than anyone guessed. Who knew how long he’d slumbered in the ice?

Yet, after being bowled over by Lapras, the look in his eyes—Professor Oak wondered if age had blurred his vision.

It was the pure joy and affection of a child meeting a Pokémon for the first time, a bond that sprang from the soul.

That was the color of fate and friendship.

It was just like when a Pokémon met its Trainer.

Professor Oak’s heart softened.

Elder Liu shot him a cold glance. “That’s enough, Lapras. He just emerged from the ice—be careful not to hurt him.”

He understood his old friend’s feelings; this was a risk worth taking.

With the two of them present, Caggy Gym was an impregnable fortress—even if this young man’s mystery rivaled that of a legendary Pokémon, it wouldn’t be impossible to subdue him.

The food at Caggy Gym wasn’t anything special, but compared to the instant noodles at Oak’s laboratory, the ice-block man found it a feast.

At least his first meal in this world wasn’t instant noodles heated over an alcohol lamp in Oak’s lab.

“What is your name, or do you still remember it?” Professor Oak’s tone was gentle. Until he noticed something wrong, he was willing to believe this was a youth full of love for Pokémon.

One who had forged bonds with Pokémon wasn’t like those who treated them as tools.

“Yes, I remember. Bamboo—Bamboo Suihan.”

He pretended to struggle, as if searching his memory. “That’s my name.”

Bamboo. Suihan.

The Three Friends of Winter—straightforward enough.

Oak thought for a while. “So, Suihan, do you remember anything from before?”

From before?

How could he know? Should he start spinning tales of ancient culture?

Saying too much would only dig him deeper—a bad idea right now.

Bamboo Suihan shook his head, unaware that a series of subtle tests had already begun.

He knew how to use utensils, which meant that even in his era, he’d had contact with civilization.

He ate the main dish and sides in a balanced fashion, not at all like someone ignorant of food.

The meal before him, in ancient times, would have been a luxury.

And his clothing was clearly unusual; combined with the seal, it suggested high status.

But high status could mean different things: perhaps a true ruler, or perhaps a sacrificial offering, well-fed before the ritual.

Elder Liu mulled over the details. For Lapras’s sake, he allowed Bamboo Suihan to break the seal, but his sense of responsibility kept him wary.

Yet, for now, this appeared to be an entirely harmless young man.

Some things could be judged without battle, and his old friend was probably right.

Elder Liu and Professor Oak observed Bamboo Suihan closely—but Bamboo Suihan was studying them in turn.

The little Swinub, the Lapras who rushed over for a hug, and Oak’s words—“the child of your two Lapras”—all together suggested that this must be the Elder Liu of the Special manga.

In that story, Lapras hadn’t died after its misfortune; it had survived by landing on the ice, and that’s why this scene was playing out now.

Elder Liu wasn’t in a wheelchair—either it was too early for that, or he’d avoided the trauma altogether.

Wait—if that’s the case…

Had he accidentally changed a whole string of major events?

Damn.

So here I am in Kanto, having just reincarnated, and I’ve already shattered a whole main storyline.

This era shouldn’t have split into Kanto and Johto yet.

Bamboo Suihan dearly wished Professor Oak would regale him with stories of the outside world, so he could figure out whether this was the anime version or not.

The Special manga’s world was, to put it mildly…

“More” dangerous.

The first rule of Pokémon battles: just take out the opposing trainer.

Ordinary people ended up as collateral whenever legendary Pokémon clashed.

If this was the Special manga’s world, the mortality rate would skyrocket.

But now was clearly not the time to ask questions; all he could do was hope Professor Oak would take the lead in conversation.

An hour later—

Elder Liu was still fiddling with his cane and Swinub’s head.

Professor Oak was considering whether to pass the time with a research report.

Bamboo Suihan was still eating—he hadn’t stopped!

Could the reason he’d been sealed away have been that, as a single person, he posed a threat of famine? The thought had a certain dark humor.

At least, to a modern person, it was almost funny.

This wasn’t a friendly gathering with idle chatter over food; Bamboo Suihan hadn’t so much as paused.

It was less eating than devouring—he wasn’t even sure he was chewing.

“My body…seems a bit off?”

Even he noticed—his appetite was not remotely normal.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to stop and ask Professor Oak about the outside world, or to seek some reassurance.

But from the moment food passed his lips, the urge to keep eating felt like a matter of life and death.

He had the feeling that, in a gluttony contest with a horde of Snorlax, he’d easily win.

Assuming, of course, someone would be foolish enough to let a whole team of Snorlax compete.

But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing—perhaps this was a sign that his golden finger had finally appeared?