Eggmaster’s grand display of unscientific explanations

Brothers, before starting today’s writing session, I’d like to chat with you all for a moment—about the conception of this book, some of its settings, and those so-called “poison points.”

This is actually my second novel about Pokémon. My previous work, “Pokémon: Starting from the Egg,” was my way of fulfilling a childhood dream. I began watching Pokémon anime in second grade, played various Pokémon games on the GBA in third grade, and started reading the Pokémon Special manga in third and fourth grade. Honestly, I love Pokémon so much! The team I captured in my previous book, aside from Spiritomb, those five Pokémon plus Salamence, is my favorite lineup. Even though the last book didn’t perform well, writing it was genuinely satisfying!

This book, on the other hand, was sparked by a small idea that came to me by chance. Originally, I planned to write it last year, immediately after finishing my previous work, but my mindset was quite unstable then. I felt some resistance to writing another Pokémon novel—probably because the last book’s poor results left a bitter taste. So, even though inspiration was there, I didn’t write it, and only started in August this year, around the 14th or 15th. The first three chapters and some settings were actually written last year. The opening with Eevee and Electabuzz—I truly love these two Pokémon.

The initial inspiration for this book was the idea of writing an Arceus-Eevee. As everyone knows, Eevee has the most evolutionary forms—eight in total. But what if Eevee could repeatedly evolve and devolve? What would that feel like? In the Pokémon Special manga, Red’s Eevee could evolve into three forms and then revert. Eventually, it became an Espeon. But what I wanted was an Eevee that could gain the abilities and traits of its evolved forms by evolving and then reverting—a truly monstrous Eevee. That, of course, required a system. My previous book had no system, no so-called cheats, except for the starting point with Dratini, which was a “poison point.” So, for this book, I wanted to go big, to create a cheat, make it powerful, and write something exciting. Thus, the system gained this so-called Pokémon Restoration ability (exclusively for the overpowered Eevee).

Of course, I knew very well, even when writing that chapter, that it would turn away many readers. First, many readers dislike system novels; second, many cannot accept the idea of Pokémon devolution. Well, that’s fine—if you can’t accept it, perhaps this book isn’t for you. After all, I can’t write to serve every single reader. A thousand people have a thousand Hamlets; everyone’s imagination and tolerance for “poison points” vary. I can’t please everyone. I’m just a struggling author, not some master. To those who enjoy this book, I hope you continue to support me. For those who don’t, there are many excellent Pokémon novels on Qidian—hopefully you’ll find one you like.

Back to the point, I spent a long time conceptualizing the Pokémon Restoration ability. Early on, Eevee needs help from the system to revert from its evolved forms, but later, things will change. The evolutions in this book will go far beyond just the eight canonical types. I’ll create original evolutionary forms for Eevee with different attributes. Creating original content is one of the joys of writing novels, isn’t it?

Some readers might ask: if Eevee is so overpowered, why does it start with such poor aptitude? I originally intended to set Eevee with quasi-legendary aptitude, but thought that would be another “poison point.” After all, it’s just an ordinary breeding house—why should they have a quasi-legendary Eevee? And if Eevee starts with such high aptitude, what’s the fun in nurturing it? So, its aptitude starts as common and is gradually improved.

Then readers might ask: why can an ordinary Eevee, seemingly mediocre, defeat three high-level Electrode and level up to fifteen? What about the hard-working Electabuzz? Honestly, I agree that part was poorly written—Eevee leveled up too quickly. But if you defeat high-level Pokémon, you do gain more experience, and for low-level Pokémon, it’s possible to jump several levels. This brings us to the idea of challenging opponents above one’s level. In Pokémon battles, the games have level suppression, but in reality, tactics, terrain, and weather can all change the outcome. Of course, if your opponent is level fifty, you’ll be wiped out instantly—no tactics can save you.

Regarding Eevee, its early personality might seem unlikable. I wrote it as a child, but perhaps it came across as somewhat… annoying. Clearly lazy, yet constantly enjoying special treatment, as if it’s the chosen one. That was a miscalculation on my part, and I’ll gradually correct it. Apologies!

Let’s discuss other “poison points.” Electric-type Pokémon suffering from paralysis? Since Generation Six, electric-types can’t be paralyzed in the games. But this is a novel! If paralysis fits the plot, I’ll use it. Electabuzz avoids paralysis because of its special ability, Electric Energy Storage, which lets it absorb electrical energy.

Oh, and why does Electabuzz have Electric Energy Storage, Volt Attack, and multitasking abilities, despite only beginning with ordinary aptitude? Let me explain: a Pokémon’s aptitude is innate and cannot be changed in this world (maybe evil organizations can, but not the League). However, special abilities are also innate and have no relation to aptitude. High aptitude doesn’t guarantee accompanying abilities, nor does low aptitude mean uselessness. High aptitude just makes training and breaking level caps easier from level fifty onward, but low-aptitude Pokémon aren’t useless. In my setting, there are six aptitude tiers, divided into three upper and three lower levels. Pokémon with upper-tier aptitude can break past the level fifty cap, while lower-tier ones cannot. But through effort, their strength can still grow. Even a quality-tier Pokémon at level fifty might not lose to a gym-leader-tier at fifty-one, if it tries hard enough. But against level sixty, it really can’t win.

If effort alone worked, the world wouldn’t need geniuses. (That sounds harsh, but it’s reality.) If a genius works harder than you, that’s truly terrifying! (Might as well give up then!)

Now, let’s talk about the price of Pokémon eggs at the breeding house. Some readers said I’m underselling eggs. Here’s my reasoning: the JOJO breeding house is in the suburbs, serving mostly working-class families. I didn’t want to gouge them, so prices are more affordable, cheaper than other breeding houses. The cost price is low—the other houses’ costs aren’t this low. I source directly, from Grandpa Chu and Old Man Lotus, who don’t care about aptitude and sell to Tong Si at a flat rate. On average, each egg costs ten thousand League coins. Tong Si sells them for fifty thousand, netting forty thousand per egg, and even after helping hatch them, still makes over thirty thousand. I honestly don’t think that’s underselling. I also said it’s about building reputation—some readers said that’s not how reputation is built, and indeed, I don’t know much about business, never having run one. Sorry! But I hope you all understand.

Regarding selling Swablu eggs for eight hundred thousand League coins—many readers asked why sell them when the protagonist doesn’t have many gym-leader-tier Pokémon. Good question! I just don’t like traitors to the dragon clan! That’s all!

About readers accusing me of miscalculating points—well! My real-life job—or rather, before I quit—was a ninth-grade math teacher. Just finished teaching a batch of students for their entrance exams. If I can’t handle simple addition and subtraction, how could I teach them functions and parabolas? Don’t challenge my calculations! I can’t possibly be wrong! All records are clear and precise!

Speaking of quitting, yes, I’m currently unemployed at home, which gave me the chance to start this book. My last book was written after graduating university, while at home unemployed. This book is after quitting my job, again at home unemployed—what a coincidence!

When I started the previous book, I published five chapters a day, all the way until it went live. From October 9th to November 1st, I posted over 260,000 words in twenty-two days, averaging more than ten thousand words a day. For this book, it's currently three chapters a day. I’m working hard to stock up on drafts and hope to save more over the next half month for more frequent updates when it goes live. Next month I may need to look for a job, so who knows how many chapters I’ll be able to post daily. This book likely won’t perform well, and I don’t plan to rely on it to make a living. So, critical readers, please go easy—I’m writing out of love!

Compared to my last book, this one has far fewer critics! The previous book had so many that I nearly coughed blood. This one has only a handful, mostly questioning my settings.

Honestly, your questions are great! Without your challenges, I wouldn’t keep improving! Every doubt lets me reflect and correct myself. Thank you sincerely!

That’s all I can think of for now—it’s already three thousand words. Thank you for reading this far, thank you for your continued support, and I hope you’ll keep supporting me. Thank you! Truly, thank you!!!

… (To be continued)