Pokémon: Raising Abandoned Pokémon into Legends

Chapter 273: Rio’s Death

Today I am very sad, because my parents left me not long ago in a car accident. It hit me hard, so I came to the park alone to think about them, to remember the little moments we shared. As I reminisced, I thought about Pokémon battles. They loved Pokémon battles, and they were passionate about them. Since I was little, they would say: if our family ever produced a conference champion, the Kudo family would truly have struck gold.

So I wondered—should I make it my life’s goal to become a Pokémon Conference champion, to fulfill their wish? But the moment the thought crossed my mind, I dismissed it. It felt impossible—too hard. I couldn’t imagine myself ever achieving that goal. I didn’t have deep Pokémon knowledge, didn’t have the money to raise them, and certainly didn’t have the confidence to be a champion.

But just then, a handsome but creepy man approached me. He called me "little Rio" in a disgusting way. I told him he had the wrong person—my name was Nico. He insisted I was Rio and said I would become the League Champion two years from now.

I was shocked—completely shocked. I seriously wondered if this guy had lost his mind. League Champion? I felt like the Conference Champion was already impossibly far away, something I might never achieve in my lifetime. And now you’re telling me I’ll become a League Champion—something far greater—in just two years? Was I crazy, or was he?

Two years to become League Champion. How? What made me worthy of that? I didn’t even have a single Pokémon yet.

Then the man claimed he came from two years in the future, having traveled through time with the help of the mythical Celebi. He said he’d remember my face forever, that he’d recognize me even if I turned to ash—so stop pretending and just admit I was Rio. I was helpless. Who was this person who looked like me but was named Rio? How could he be so incredible? If I could be like him, I’d die without regrets.

I kept denying it, telling him he had the wrong person. But he wouldn’t listen. He insisted I was Rio—same place, same face. He, Lance, one of Team Rocket’s Four Generals, couldn’t possibly be wrong. He dreamed of that face every night—Rio had ruined countless Team Rocket missions, even defeated their great Boss Giovanni and sent him to prison.

What Lance remembered most vividly was how Rio had tricked him at the Twin Islands, made him the biggest fool in the world, and stolen Articuno—one of the legendary three birds.

Watching him get angrier, more furious, more bloodthirsty with every word, I couldn’t help but think: That Rio guy is incredible. He’d pushed the underground organization that terrorized Kanto to the point where they had to travel through time just to get revenge.

But the problem was, I really wasn’t Rio. I was just an ordinary nobody. So I panicked, feeling his rage about to be taken out on me. I thought about running—but he noticed. He released an Arbok and caught me. My reaction only convinced him further that I was the Rio who would become League Champion.

And so—I was done for. The Arbok coiled around me and squeezed. It hurt so much—I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to fight back, but I couldn’t. And my pain seemed to excite Lance, like my suffering was his fuel.

At that moment, I felt anger—not at the man who looked like me, but at Team Rocket. They had the wrong person and were killing an innocent man—no wonder Rio beat them senseless in the future. I also felt envy—envy for that champion who shared my face but not my fate. His life must have been amazing. If there’s a next life, I wish I could live his life, even just for a day—as payment for dying in his place.

And then... well, there’s no "and then." Because I was losing consciousness. Arbok tightened around me, and I felt like I was suffocating. Mom, Dad—I’m coming to join you. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the champion you wanted. But if you need a champion son, just think of that guy named Rio as your own. After all, we look alike, so it should be easy for you to imagine. And he shouldn’t complain—your real son died for him.

And that really was the end...

In a patch of woods behind Lavender Park, Lance stared at the cyanotic boy lying motionless on the ground. He crouched down and checked for a pulse—nothing. He was dead.

"HAHAHAHA—I changed history! I, Lance, killed the man who captured Mewtwo, Articuno, and Raikou—the man who became the League Champion! I’m Team Rocket’s greatest hero! Boss Giovanni will thank me—he’ll reward me greatly!"

Lance laughed, feeling the weight of shame and failure lift from his shoulders. With a flash of black light, he released Celebi. He couldn’t wait to return to his own time and see the future changed by Rio’s death. Team Rocket would once again be the strongest organization in Johto and Kanto—the underground power that even the League feared. No more hiding like rats. And the three legendary birds—they’d have them all. And Mewtwo—as long as he told Giovanni that all it took to win Mewtwo over was drinking with it—Giovanni would make him the head of the Four Generals, with Apollo, Athena, and Lambda all bowing to him.

A bright future was waiting.

"Celebi—open the time tunnel! Take me back to my original timeline!"

"Bii~" Celebi sang, and temporal ripples spread from its body. Moments later, Lance and Celebi vanished from the woods—leaving only the body of the boy named Nico, motionless in the bushes.

Time passed. Day turned to night, and night to day again. The body that had been lying still... moved. Slowly, it opened its eyes.

"Wh-where am I? Oww—it hurts..."

Rio winced as he pushed himself up, looking around at the unfamiliar forest. "Wasn’t I playing PokéMMO? How did I end up in the woods?"

Just then, a Caterpie wriggled across his path.

He froze.