Pokemon Scientist

Historically, Pokéballs were first invented in the Johto region, where Apricorns naturally grow. Back when Sinnoh was still known as Hisui, people walked alongside their Pokémon, as Pokéballs had yet to be developed.

Over time, technology advanced, leading to the creation of pre-modern Pokéballs crafted from Tumblestones and Apricorns. Later, the Pokémon Association claimed these early designs as their own, presenting them as a modern invention.

Today's Pokéballs have evolved far beyond their original purpose. No longer just tools for capturing and storing Pokémon, they now incorporate cutting-edge technology, seamlessly integrating with massive data networks—often referred to as "Big Data."

One of the key features of this Big Data system is the identification and registration of both the Pokémon and its Trainer.

Carolina wasted no time. She quickly pulled out her phone, made a call, and relayed her findings. "Head to the Pokémon Center and ask for Nurse Joy's cooperation. Just explain the situation—she'll understand."

"Yes, Professor," came the prompt reply.

As the elders busied themselves—some making calls here and there, while others examined the basket's contents—Grandpa Drayton saw his moment.

With a mischievous grin, he snuck over and scooped the baby into his arms. "Hehehe, what's this? A little wiggle worm?"

Allen, however, was not impressed. The rough tickle of the old man's beard made him squirm, his tiny face scrunching up in protest.

Grandpa Drayton chuckled, completely unaware of the impending disaster. "Ah, I see—you're trying to talk to me!"

Allen's narrowed eyes seemed to glint. Even though everything was still blurry, this tickling sensation was really making him uncomfortable.

'Bastard! You want to play rough, old man? Fine. You've triggered my trump card!'

And then—out of the blue, with all the force of a tiny cannon, he emptied both his bowels and bladder.

A biological attack was launched.

The backdoor attack splattered all over Grandpa Drayton's feet, while the front door flood struck him squarely in the face and beard. 

The shrine fell into stunned silence.

Then—

Allen started giggling loudly and the townsfolk erupted in laughter, some doubled over, while others tried to dodge the splatter zone.

"Whoa! Talk about a messy welcome!" Grandpa Drayton let out a hearty laugh as he wiped his face from the unexpected "bath."

Allen didn't know who they were; all he could perceive were constant blurs of indistinct shapes and muffled sounds, making the world outside feel stretched and wrapped in an endless mystery.

But despite the haze that surrounded him, he could sense the gentle touches and the kindness radiating from the presence around him.

'It seems I'm in the right place…?' he though to himself

At the heart of the town lies a small shrine dedicated to the legends of old, whispering of ancient events that have shaped the world.

Today, the streets of Celestic Town bustled with activity as residents hurried along, accompanied by their Pokémon or family members, all making their way toward a house at the town's westernmost edge.

This house stood closest to the cave entrance of Mount Coronet, the passage leading to Eterna City.

Just off the path leading up to it, a small Japanese-style shrine rested in quiet reverence, its roof adorned with elegant equine figurines that seemed to watch over the town.

Nearby, a Chingling and a Buneary observed the commotion with wide, curious eyes as as people strolled past them.

'Is today a special occasion? Why is everyone outside?' they both wondered innocently.

A group of children, delighted by the sight of the two Pokémon, paused in their tracks and eagerly held out small pieces of candy.

Chingling let out a bright cheerful chime, its tiny bell ringing like laughter, while Buneary hopped excitedly, its fluffy paws barely touching the ground.

The children giggled, their joyful voices blending with the lively hum of the town.

In that small, fleeting moment, Pokémon and humans shared a quiet happiness—a simple yet magical harmony that only added to the peaceful charm of Celestic Town.

By now, nearly everyone in town had heard the news.

The young man who discovered the baby had eagerly recounted his story, and word spread like wildfire.

The mere mention of an abandoned newborn left swaddled in nothing more than a thin blanket at the village entrance had the townspeople in an uproar. Like ants on a hot pan, they hurried about, desperate to see the poor baby for themselves.

"Nothing can be found?" Professor Carolina asked, her mind clouded with unease.

'This doesn't make sense! Why is there no record of this Pokéball in the database?!' she thought anxiously, gripping the fragile Pokéball in her hand.

A deep crack ran along its surface, dangerously close to breaking apart completely.

Pokéball were designed to be durable—built for the rigors of adventure, capable of withstanding falls, harsh weather, and battles.

Under normal circumstances, even a powerful throw wouldn't be enough to break one. For this Pokéball to be in such a fragile state, something extreme must have happened.

One thing had already made her anxious, but now another revelation nearly sent her into a spiral. The fact that there was no record of a "Buffet" family name in the Pokémon Association's database—how was that possible?!

'Allen Buffet...'

Professor Carolina's grip on the cracked Pokéball tightened as her mind raced. Every registered Trainer, every Pokémon, every notable family line should be in the system.

Even if they weren't active Trainers, there should have been some trace—citizenship records, medical files, even a simple census entry. Yet there was nothing. It was as if the name "Buffet" had never existed.

How? Just how?!

'Criminals?' The thought flickered through her mind, but she quickly dismissed it.

They definitely didn't have that kind of power. And… they wouldn't dare tamper with the Pokéball system.

In the Pokémon world, the most common criminal activities were kidnapping and poaching. However, even these were typically carried out in secluded areas, hidden from watchful eyes. Even the most ruthless criminals—those with a track record of killing—preferred remote locations: deep forests, abandoned ruins, desolate wastelands.

Simply put, they wouldn't dare show their faces openly to the public and what they feared most was the Pokémon Association.

The Pokémon Association monopolized most Pokémon-related technology—for example, Pokéballs.

The fact that Pokéballs were equipped with a Big Data system was common knowledge, meaning that anyone who wanted to own a Pokémon would be wise not to cross the Association.

Thanks to this method, anyone who frequently navigates the black and gray areas shares the same concern: they want to stay off the Pokémon Association's radar for as long as possible.

Of course, criminals were always thinking one step ahead—their minds wired for deception, evasion, and survival. Like a big names like Team Rocket and other prominent organizations. 

The bigger the organization, the bigger their prey. Criminal syndicates rarely made a move unless the reward was worth the risk. That's why most of them thrived in the shadows, staying hidden until the perfect opportunity arose. And the Pokéball industry?

That was a pie big enough for all the major players to sink their teeth into.

Thus, counterfeit Pokéballs were created—designed to bypass the tracking system of the Pokéball Big Data network.

With this massive counterfeit Pokéballs market flourishing, many believed the Pokémon Association had lost its grip.

Their failure snowballed, emboldening more and more criminal organizations. While none quite reached the scale of Team Rocket, plenty of smaller factions emerged.

The biggest slices of the pie went to the most powerful groups, while the smaller crumbs were left for many smaller unknown groups.

The Pokémon Association did not sit idly by.

"If technology isn't enough, then we will target every basic need of every Pokémon Trainer," said the Head of Strategy and Communication, a representative of the Association.

Team Rocket is ruthless? Then they would be even more ruthless.

Everyone knows that in most criminal organizations, the lower ranks are filled with disposable grunts—cannon fodder. These are the ones sent to do the dirty work, taking the risks while their leaders reap the rewards. But the real question is—where do these people come from?

Orphans, the poor, and struggling Trainers.

These vulnerable individuals are the perfect targets for established criminal networks—fresh recruits to fuel their operations and keep their organizations running. However, with the Pokémon Association's watchful eyes everywhere, recruiting new members has become increasingly difficult.

Once a family is associated with crime, their reputation is permanently stained, often leading to rejection from society. As a result, families from various backgrounds have started enforcing strict moral teachings from an early age, emphasizing right and wrong to prevent their children from falling into crime.

Security measures have also tightened, making it increasingly difficult for criminal organizations to operate in the open.They are now forced to expand their recruitment points, networks, logistics, and other expenses, making it even harder for smaller groups to survive.

As a result, these smaller factions often rely on specialized organizations for recruitment—acting as intermediaries that scout, groom, and supply fresh recruits to the highest bidder. This alone prevents their organizations from ever becoming as united or structured as Team Rocket.

You can find them in the typical back alleys of cities, towns, or even in rural villages where security is a bit lax. These local criminals often start by targeting children in the areas where they operate, typically orphans or those from broken homes, who turn to crime as a means of escape.