Chapter 20: Reputation

Originally, when he realized the Pokémon were rampaging, he felt a flicker of excitement. Watching Qian Lin’s live stream had shown him that Pokémon weren’t so difficult to get along with. Of course, he didn’t rush forward blindly; he needed to know what kind of Pokémon they were dealing with first.

But when he joined the crowd, he found that the security guards had already settled the Pokémon. Although a bit disappointed, this outcome was far better than shooting the Pokémon dead.

So he decided to record a video and post it online, recounting what had happened that day.

Then... events twisted and turned like a winding mountain road, until Qian Lin appeared. Next, Qian Lin commanded Swablu to take down Herdier, and only then did he understand what Qian Lin meant by “capturing” Pokémon during his live stream.

Turns out, after gaining a Pokémon companion, one could actually command it in battle!

The scene, the visuals, each skill used, and Qian Lin’s commands were electrifying. Whether others felt the same, he was absolutely fired up. Even if he were holding a copy of Boruto, he could burn that series to ashes right then and there.

He put away his phone and glanced around to ensure no one was watching. Without greeting Qian Lin, he turned and ran.

He had to upload the video immediately—not for views or popularity, but to show those mindless trolls in Qian Lin’s live chat what it meant to run a professional Pokémon science broadcast. This was professionalism!

Elsewhere, Qian Lin sat beside Herdier, cradling Swablu. One, to make sure Herdier was unharmed; two, to keep an eye on it just in case.

He guessed someone would record this moment and post it online, so it didn’t bother him. On the contrary, the more people who knew Qian Lin, the happier he’d be.

Within ten minutes, a video titled “Commanding Pokémon Battles: Qian Lin’s Professionalism—Damn, That Was Lit” quietly passed moderation.

Qian Lin never expected that the instructions sent to all platforms would prioritize videos featuring him. Once verified, these videos could bypass further review, with official personnel monitoring them. The first non-live-recorded video to receive this special treatment was, unexpectedly, a fan’s upload of the very first Pokémon battle.

Thus, right under the officials’ noses, the video quietly rose to the front page and then... exploded in popularity.

The video was simple, about five or six minutes long. It began with a group of security guards surrounding a dog-like creature. Just as everyone thought they were going to subdue the monster, the security captain approached and communicated with it.

At first, this seemed normal, but unexpectedly, the creature calmed down.

That alone was impressive, and the comments showed a mix of surprise and awe. Then the scene changed drastically. First, a reckless fool angered the creature, which spewed a blast of energy. Everyone feared the security captain and the fool were doomed.

Even the videographer’s hands trembled. But at that moment, they suddenly heard, “Swablu, Dragon Pulse!” and the video reached its climax.

With Qian Lin’s entrance commanding Swablu to defeat Herdier, the entire sequence lasted just about a minute, yet everyone’s jaws dropped. For a moment, they wondered if they were dreaming. When had humans been able to command monsters to fight?

The power, the flames, the words spoken on screen—all combined into a thrilling battle. The comment section froze momentarily, then exploded the instant Herdier was defeated.

“Holy crap!”

“Am I dreaming?”

“Qian Lin is amazing! Swablu is amazing!”

“Wow, Milotic is the eternal god! That Dragon Pulse could shatter half a mountain, what a boss!”

“Dad’s wisdom: use monsters to fight monsters.”

“Am I the only one who thinks that rude guy deserves to die?”

This video compiled previous live recordings and was pushed to everyone’s attention in no time. Those who knew Qian Lin praised him, while strangers were left in disbelief.

The first comment came from the officially certified Pokémon Science Institute: “Pokémon are wondrous creatures.”

Then came a message from the local group: “Comrade Qian Lin is a member of the Pokémon Research Institute and the world’s only Pokémon Trainer. For those interested in understanding Pokémon, please download the official Pokémon Encyclopedia app.”

Soon after, official announcements poured in.

Police: “Streamer Zhao, featured in the video, has been arrested for disturbing social order. We urge citizens to keep a safe distance from Pokémon encountered in cities or the wild. Professionals will handle these situations. Please refrain from provoking or antagonizing Pokémon.”

Fire Department: “We look forward to fighting alongside Comrade Qian Lin someday.”

Medical Staff: “Three injured, zero deaths in this incident. All injuries are minor. Thanks to the security team, Comrade Qian Lin, and Swablu for protecting civilians’ lives and property.”

Ministry of Foreign Affairs: “We’ve just received a request from our neighbors at Foot Basin Chicken to share Pokémon encyclopedia data. For international peace and security, we have shared the data with our neighboring allies. Foot Basin Chicken will submit a formal application. Did we do the right thing?”

Bilibili Official: “We don’t dare to ask; we don’t dare to say.”

The earlier comments were all from big shots, but the Bilibili official’s comment threw a curveball, making users reading the comments burst out laughing.

“Come on, A-B, get your act together!”

“If you can’t find a hot topic, just mix it up. How can you be so timid?”

“Why is it so lame when it comes to you?”

“You’re obviously a level six official account, trying to sneak into the big leagues, but you don’t dare to ask or say anything. You’ve turned yourself into a newbie.”

“Hand over the level six trial card, please.”

“Official trial card, please.”

Meanwhile, after finishing his statement at the police station, Qian Lin finally saw the video. He was momentarily stunned—not because of the video itself, but because so many big names had commented, all verified by A-B, true heavyweights.

As a level four account, Qian Lin nervously opened the comment section and timidly posted under the Pokémon Science Institute’s comment: “Here? Catch a Pokémon?”

He felt great.

After all, it was just a level four account. Surely people could recognize him?

What surprised him was that right after his first live stream ended, the officials had already granted his account verification as requested. Besides the level, his account was nearly identical to those of the big names above.

Back at the research institute, Qian Lin handed Herdier over to the vehicle supervisor. Following system protocols, the supervisor helped create a simple resting area for Herdier. Perhaps because it had been defeated, Herdier showed no resistance and merely looked at Qian Lin as it left.

Qian Lin crouched down and stroked Herdier’s head. “The vehicle supervisor won’t hurt you. The researchers needing your cooperation will explain everything carefully. If you truly don’t want to participate, you can refuse.”

Only then did Herdier nod in reassurance and walk away.

In fact, Herdier was likely the first Pokémon in this world to voluntarily cooperate with research. Other Pokémon forcibly captured had no such choice. With Herdier’s cooperation, they were sure to make breakthroughs.

The institute didn’t restrict Herdier’s movements but informed it that some staff would accompany it. As long as it didn’t harm humans, it could do whatever it wished within the institute.

They truly treasured Herdier as a precious being. They wouldn’t harm it, and Herdier was willing to assist research. Aside from three minor injuries and a destroyed tea stall, the incident was near perfect.

Perhaps inspired by the video of Qian Lin commanding Swablu, researchers often gathered around Herdier, trying to command it with strange foods and toys. But only Qian Lin could truly command Herdier.

Herdier was very tempted by the food, sometimes drooling over it, but it refused to eat anything except the agreed three meals a day. It refused all other offerings, displaying terrifying self-control.

This might be why it had survived so well in a city where it was otherwise despised.

Interestingly, once Herdier sensed no threat, its personality changed. While it had been aloof before, now, free from worries about food or shelter, its peaceful nature emerged. It smiled happily at everyone.

It was friendly, though it only listened to Qian Lin. Whenever possible, it would sneak out of the resting room to explore. When it saw Qian Lin, it obediently squatted down, waiting for a head pat.

Male, canine body, a cherished research institute treasure—yet it lived like a devoted admirer.

Swablu often mocked it by flapping its wings, but Herdier didn’t care, just flashing a goofy smile.

Half a month passed like this. Nearly a month since the last live stream, the institute continuously updated the encyclopedia data, generously sharing it worldwide. They also achieved significant research breakthroughs with Herdier.

Of course, these findings would remain confidential.

Once Qian Lin fully extracted all the knowledge stored in his mind, the institute finally eased their excessive protection of him. Qian Lin breathed a sigh of relief.

Previously, whenever Qian Lin went out, at least twenty people surrounded him, with countless others secretly protecting him. Now, at least on the surface, those guards were nowhere to be seen. As for behind the scenes...

Qian Lin had lost count of how many familiar faces had sat beside him, chatting awkwardly under different guises and saying completely different things. He even suspected there were cameras in the bathrooms, though the vehicle supervisor denied it.

But it didn’t matter. Qian Lin’s knowledge was enough to fuel research at the institute for decades. Now, he needed to continue his journey.