[System Override: Rapid Introduction Mode Activated]
A glowing overlay flickered across the screen. Somewhere behind the story, an exhausted narrator sighed and cracked their knuckles.
"Alright, this is the editor, and I'm sick of seeing so a good deal of sus Poké waifues. I'm just gonna speed run and progress with the damn story. Yes, this topic is weird. Yes, you just have to roll with it. And no, we're not doing this intro one gives a damn about."
"But wait—!" the Author objected.
SLAP!
"No time! Do you have any idea how many character profiles we're juggling? No, you don't. You're a fucking pervert. Do you have any idea how many searches I did for this stupid topic? There are so many Pokémon, dear lord, why are there so many rule 34 Pokémon? Don't you people have standards!? I'm putting this crap into the Aux chapters and move on with this story!"
—Jaxon Ryder Mercer: Pokémon Battles (Waifu Team)--
Route 12, Kanto — 13 miles from the Ridgeback Rest Stop
Jaxon learned many things while driving on the highway.
How can a dirt road be called a highway? The teen would never know, but it is wide enough to accommodate multiple cars like any other highway on regular Earth.
Saying it was massive was like calling the sun "bright." Even with comfy seats, you get bored driving for six hours. The farther he drove, the more obvious it became that the old Jaxon didn't bother to learn the geography of the world. It was then a sanitized, map-sized planet that the anime had portrayed. It was vast. Brutal. Expensive.
And expensive.
He'd spent most of the drive watching the landscape roll by while Marceline ranted about finances and Bonnie tried to pay for smoothies using his trainer ID.
How did the pink-haired girl even gain access to bank cards? More on that later. He also learned something that he should have noticed in chapters 1 and 2.
This was the Earth, just… rewritten. Many of the old-world countries still existed—but they had absorbed or rebranded entire regions under their control.
Take Kanto, for example.
The Kanto region wasn't some isolated island. It was a province—one fully incorporated into the Empire of Japan.
Ok, many got exactly like Earth since Japan has an Emperor and the imperial army still exists.
The same went for Johto, which the Japanese government had heavily invested in following the post-Red Reconstruction era. Between the two regions and several smaller territories like the Sevii Islands, the Orange Archipelago, and Kitakami, Japan boasted more registered Pokémon Leagues than any other nation.
In second place were the United Kingdoms, who had laid claim to both Galar and a number of island chains collectively known as the Crown League Circuit—mostly elite-only zones. And then there was Unova, which had evolved under the red, white, and blue umbrella of the United States of America. The U.S. also controlled Orre, and the three Pokémon Ranger regions: Fiore, Almia, and Oblivia. The whole western seaboard of Pokéland was basically Uncle Sam's monster-catching playground.
Weirder still were the power plays from Europe.
Hoenn had ended up in the hands of the Russian Federation, who poured rubles into it for reasons no one could quite understand but everyone respected out of fear. Sinnoh, meanwhile, was German-backed—specifically by a reunified Federal German State that saw value in Sinnoh's ancient ruins and data cores. Somehow, it worked.
Galar, predictably, remained the flagship territory of the European alliance, with Kalos secured under France cultural protection.
Paldea was split between Spain and a joint Iberian initiative. And Alola was a tropical hot mess jointly run by the U.S. and the Caribbean Economic Coalition, with frequent political squabbles over the island's natural resources.
Elsewhere in the world, China had quietly locked down the Ransei Region—a territory that functioned like a living wargame. Divided into seventeen kingdoms, each governed by a Warlord with mastery over a specific Pokémon type, Ransei wasn't just rich in history—it was the single largest exporter of A-rank and S-rank evolution stones in the world.
Even India, South Africa, Brazil, Egypt, Korea, and Australia had their own Pokémon regions, though Jaxon hadn't memorized them all. What he did know was that every major country had a vested stake in the Pokémon League system.
What he did know was that every major power had a hand in the Pokémon League system. If you weren't training, you were falling behind.
Also, Mercy, would most likely kill him if he doesn't start training his Pokemon.
He smirked and pressed the intercom button inside his trailer. Which was badass. It beeped with a soft chime.
"Hey yo."
—Jaxon Ryder Mercer: Pokémon Battles (Waifu Team)--
Marceline didn't respond. She was already getting dressed.
Clad in black—her go-to mini sweater dress with a wide purple belt shaped like the Poison Fang item, and thigh-high violet boots laced with Spinarak silk—she looked every inch the stylish executioner. The silk had been dyed and woven with raw Poison-type energy, enhancing her control over her aura and accelerating her Pokémon's development through environmental runoff.
Normally, gear like this was wildly beyond her family's monthly allowance. At most, Marceline got two million PokéDollars a month for basic living and equipment—not even close to affording nutrient solutions, tactical gear, or sustainable Pokémon chow.
But then came Jaxon.
The idiot bought everything for her. Gastly. The egg. The chef. The outfits. And then some. She would pay him back. Somehow. Someday. Even if he never asked for it.
She will never sleep with him. Nope no way in Reverse world.
Her Gastly was a godsend. A starter's dream. Its blistering Speed stat allowed it to outpace meta contenders like Mienfoo and Snivy. Its monstrous Special Attack broke through most early-stage walls. With moves like Will-O-Wisp and Destiny Bond, it wasn't just dangerous—it was devastating. And being a Ghost-type? It meant immunity to priority Fighting moves and the rare privilege of spinblocking for hyper offense comps.
Her second Pokémon, freshly hatched, was even more terrifying.
Like Sizzlipede and Skorupi, Venipede was a pill-millipede of aggressive proportions. Its magenta head and thorax, dark green abdomen, and segmented black legs gave it a natural armor look. Combined with stubby antennae and air-sensing tail feelers, it was a hunter through and through.
Venipede didn't just look dangerous—it was dangerous. Its venom was potent enough to paralyze large birds mid-air. It picked fights with Sizzlipede for fun. It attacked anything it thought it could eat, usually without thinking.
The Venipede line was famous among Poison trainers. Entry hazard mastery. Speed Boost builds. Baton Pass potential. In some League brackets, it was outright banned.
And now, she had one.
Thanks to the nutrient solutions pumping through the trailer's Type Energy HVAC system (yes, it had one), her own Poison Aura, and the pure runoffs lining the egg cradle, it had hatched a week ago—right in her quarters. A perfect, violet-streaked specimen.
Her team had grown. Gastly and Venipede. Ghost and bug. Toxic and intangible.
Her vengeance would be venomous.
Marceline had more on her mind than Jaxon's wallet crimes.
Blasto City Gym was 243 miles away. Two months until the challenge. Plenty of time… for her, at least. She would whip Jaxon into shape, whether he liked it or not. Even if she had to shove him into the battlefield with a cattle prod and a full restore.
The Blasto Gym was Fire-type—the weakest minor gym in Kanto—and it still boasted an 87% win rate. And that was with repeat challengers skewing the numbers! The gym circuit ran for five years per League cycle. It wasn't supposed to be easy. Her Gastly wasn't ready. Her Venipede was still growing.
But Marceline?
She was already planning to win Salandit and Skrelp from Jaxon.
Not in battle—oh no. That would be too easy. She was going to win their loyalty the real way. Affection. Care. Devotion. Those Poison-types would love her more than him, and they'd know—deep down—that she was the better trainer.
And maybe, just maybe, they'd stop flocking to that shiny-attracting disaster with legs and a wallet.
It wasn't just that he had so many shinies. It was which shinies he had.
Nidoran. Oddish. Budew. Weedle. An absolutely adorable Venonat. Tentacool. Spinarak. Ekans. Seviper. Even a Hisuian Sneasel.
It made her blood boil.
"I swear those Pokémon will be—"
"Yo Marcy, we're almost at the—"
Whatever Jaxon was saying was lost to Marceline as she accidentally shrieked—loudly—before realizing her intercom wasn't even turned on yet. Her two Pokémon stared at her. Judgingly.
Blushing furiously, she handed them each a Poké Puff. Bribes. Perfectly reasonable bribes.
If she ever admitted one good purchase Jaxon made, it was the 8.7 billion PokéDollar contract with Pokémon Chef Aster Guy and his entire family. A century-long contract that included gourmet Pokéblocks, custom Puffs, and weekly shipments of Devon Chow delivered via teleportation until the permanent teleport pad was finished near the Soul Root Tree estate. (Jaxon still hadn't named the damn property.)
Poké Puffs wasn't just good treat after dinner. It was science. Type-enhancing, Aura-synced, personality-boosting alchemy wrapped in gourmet packaging. Bad batches could shrink a Pokémon's growth rate. Perfect batches could elevate them to new evolutionary plateaus.
Marceline didn't worry. Chef Guy's family were legends—once personal chefs to monarchs, gym leaders, and elite executives. Like her family, they'd fallen from grace over the years. Until Jaxon paid off their 33 million debt and gave them a private villa near the Soul Root Tree. Now they had access to fresh ingredients from A-rank dungeons and above, a garden that would rival France's Sky Garden, and a multi-purpose ranch staffed by the Bailey family.
The Baileys were Texas ranchers—formerly obscure. Now? Their meat outperformed what even her own family could supply.
At least Jaxon was good at that.
Marceline's two Pokémon accepted their Puffs eagerly, tails twitching with delight. She took a slow breath, activated her smart contact lenses, and scanned them. That sync directly with the National Pokédex account, and battle registry feed. Unlike Jaxon—who whipped out his shiny Rotom Phone like it was a celebrity in a nightclub—Marceline preferred discretion and functionality.
And not because it came in poison-type violet with pink highlights and gave her snake eyes so sharp they could cut steel. No, not at all. Certainly not because Jaxon had gone completely speechless for a full three hours when she first wore them, his face contorted in jealous agony.
Gastly and the week-old Venipede both sweatdropped the moment her pheromones spiked—sweet, spicy, laced with amusement and lust. They could smell her smug satisfaction.
Their mistress was thinking about her mate again.
[BattleVitals™ Full Readout - Linked to PokéSmartLens HUD | User: Marceline Gato]
Pokémon: Gastly (♀)
Nickname: Hemlock
Level: 16
Nature: Timid (+Speed, -Attack)
Ability: Levitate
Type: Ghost / Poison
Held Item: Wide Lens
Favorite Berry: Kasib Berry
Moveset: Shadow Ball, Sludge Wave, Will-O-Wisp, Destiny Bond, Substitute, Dazzling Gleam, Hypnosis, Hex
Base Stats
HP: 30 | Attack: 35 | Defense: 30 | Sp. Atk: 100 | Sp. Def: 35 | Speed: 80
Individual Values (IVs)
HP: 31 | Attack: 14 | Defense: 22 | Sp. Atk: 31 | Sp. Def: 28 | Speed: 31
Effort Values (EVs)
HP: 4 | Attack: 0 | Defense: 0 |Sp. Atk: 52 | Sp. Def: 0 | Speed: 60
Final Combat Stats @ Lvl 16
HP: 38 | Attack: 16 | Defense: 17 | Sp. Atk: 46 | Sp. Def: 20 | Speed: 48
System Metrics
Aura Compatibility: 85%
Emotional State: Playfully homicidal
Nutrient Saturation: High
Sleep Cycle: Stable
Battle Rating (Projected): B+ Tier
Special Notes: Highly intelligent and expressive. Forms strong bonds through mischief and shared trauma. Reacts positively on stealth-based or status strategies. Sleeps in fog.
Pokémon: Venipede (♀)
Name: Ricin
Level: 6
Nature: Jolly (+Speed, -Sp. Atk)
Ability: Speed Boost
Type: Bug / Poison
Held Item: Focus Sash
Favorite Berry: Pecha Berry
Base Stats
HP: 30 | Attack: 45 | Defense: 59 | Sp. Atk: 30 | Sp. Def: 39 | Speed: 57
Individual Values (IVs)
HP: 30 | Attack: 31 | Defense: 20 | Sp. Atk: 10 | Sp. Def: 18 | Speed: 31 |
Effort Values (EVs)
HP: 4 | Attack: 20 | Defense: 0 | Sp. Atk: 0 | Sp. Def: 0 | Speed: 36 |
Final Combat Stats @ Lvl 6
HP: 23 | Attack: 18 | Defense: 15 | Sp. Atk: 9 | Sp. Def: 13 | Speed: 21
System Metrics
Aura Compatibility: 92%
Emotional State: Aggressively affectionate
Nutrient Saturation: High
Sleep Cycle: Stable
Battle Rating (Projected): B+ Tier
Special Notes: Loves to eat and its Poison type energy sacks are larger than average.
Marceline narrowed her eyes, satisfied. With the nutrient solutions at work, type-optimized meals, and direct exposure to her Poison Aura runoff, both Pokémon were blooming faster than she anticipated.
She casually tapped the contact's left HUD overlay, sending their updated stats to her battle log.
Her team may have been small, but they were potent. Venipede was already developing that twitchy, coiled-kill instinct she needed from a future Scolipede, and Gastly's ghostly sass made for a perfect front-line chaos element.
She would dominate that fire gym in Blasto City. Whether Jaxon was ready or not.
And if not?
He could stay home with his Pokéboy magazines (that she will burn later) and ridiculous number of whores on his phone.
—Jaxon Ryder Mercer: Pokémon Battles (Waifu Team)--
Bonnie Hikifune's space inside the trailer wasn't a room—it was a shrine to the goddess of pink.
So much pink.
Tucked toward the midsection of the luxury trailer, it felt more like a private infirmary-slash-princess suite than any normal trainer's quarters. Clean white floors met pastel curtains embroidered with soft-pink Chansey footprints, and her bed—a rounded pod frame designed for Pokémon rehab—glowed gently with ambient light set to Evening Meadow. Medical tools were polished, sorted, and somehow glittery. Even the syringes had ribbon decals.
A mounted holo-screen in the corner scrolled through a queue of open carts: PokéMart, HealHub, Chansey Express, and one highly suspicious site called Blissey's Secret. Every tab had three things in common—premium, imported, and outrageously expensive.
Bonnie reclined on her therapeutic foam lounge, one leg crossed over the other, poking lazily at the air with her fingers. A cup of sparkling Cheri-berry soda hovered beside her, attached to a floating coaster with temperature regulation tech.
Her attire screamed spoiled nurse chic: a custom pink camisole with oversized bow straps, an open nurse jacket lined with Sitrus-fiber silk, and a pair of thigh-high compression socks laced with glittery stitching. Each item was handcrafted, high-performance, and absurdly overdesigned—exactly how she liked it.
"Hmm…" Bonnie hummed thoughtfully, tilting her head as she reviewed her cart total. "That's thirty-two Hyper Potions, four Detox kits, a full trauma res kit, ten full-coverage healing wraps, and the limited edition Chansey Goes Rogue hoodie. All essential."
She tapped the screen, her lips curling into a satisfied smile.
[Purchase confirmed]
"Oh noooo," she cooed with fake innocence. "I've been irresponsible again." The pinkette entered Jaxon's personal credit card. The banking clan immediately offered him the Black Citi Card when he made numerous ship ports and equipment for years. Marceline nearly died of a heart attack when the boy gave it away in her name ten seconds after.
"Bless his wallet," Bonnie murmured, biting her lip with a wicked little smile.
Not like he'd notice. He stopped checking his transaction logs after the third time she bought half a clinic's inventory. That was his mistake.
Lovette, her Happiny, peeked from behind the mini medical fridge with a juice box in one hand and a bag of PokéCookies in the other. She offered no comment. Bonnie winked at her and tossed over a cookie shaped like a heart.
"Nurse Mommy is treating herself today," Bonnie declared, lounging deeper into the cushions. "Besides, who else is going to keep this team of gremlins from licking thunderstones or trying to marry the toaster?"
She wasn't wrong.
Only she, Bonnie Hikifune, had the medical degree and the shopping addiction required to balance the chaos that was Team Mercer. Most trainers had partners. Jaxon, a team of adorbs Pokémon that loves to fight for reasons lost to her.
Heck, his Happiny loved boxing way too much for her species. It doesn't stop it from being cute though. Another reason Jaxon is a good pigg—boyfriend material. If a Happiny loves you, then that means you're a good house husband one day.
Bonnie took another sip of her soda, humming as she flicked over to her favorites tab and highlighted another pink lab coat for checkout.
"Potion stocks are still low… And I really should upgrade to Hyper Grade tinctures for Elise and Morgana. Seraphine might benefit from crystal infusion compresses—"
A ding interrupted her thoughts.
New email: "Congratulations! Your Blissey's Secret custom nurse uniform is en route."
She snorted. "Oh, right? That thing."
Silky. Lacy. Definitely not battle-rated. But hey—if Jaxon ever needed mouth-to-mouth? She'd wear it with pride.