Game Chapter 8: AI Chaos (Patreon)

Even though she’d realized as much, Iono knew there was no backing out now—the game was bought, she’d told chat she’d play it, so play it she would.

She sighed inwardly and refocused on the screen.

“WASD movement… classic.”

She tested the keys, stepped her character out of the moving truck—and the sight made her eyes widen. She’d played plenty of pixel games, but this one’s visuals were downright exquisite—art, even.

Chat gasped along with her:

[How does a pixel game look this good? You sure this is a solo-dev title?]

[This outclasses a lot of games in my library on art alone… no wonder it’s pricey!]

[Pretty is nice, but if it isn’t fun, what’s the point? Gameplay > Graphics!]

Following the tutorial, she headed into the grass north of town to pick a Pokémon and help Professor Birch defeat a Poochyena. After a brief think, she chose Torchic.

Back at the lab, just as Birch offered to give her a starter, a prompt popped up:

[Notice: Intelligent Interaction Unlocked!]

[Press “E” to interact via voice or text. You can interact with any character or Pokémon in the game.]

Iono arched a brow.

Oh? It’s really trying this?

Didn’t seem likely…

Still, nothing a quick test couldn’t settle. She faced Birch, pressed E, and spoke into the mic:

“Hello, Professor Birch. Could I have an Electric-type as my starter instead?”

She didn’t expect much. The starter choice seemed locked—why else would it have presented the three typical starters?

To her surprise, Birch nodded and answered:

“Ah? You like Electric-types? You should’ve said so! I do have a special Pokémon here.”

“But if you want her, you’ll have to tell me why you like Electric-types.”

Iono froze.

“Huh? Is this actually AI?”

Then she shook her head slightly. No… must have triggered a keyword. Maybe the dev set “get Electric-type” as a branch and this is the canned response.

Even so, pulling this off meant the dev cared. So far, the game was already exceeding her expectations.

Chat was thinking along similar lines:

[Prewritten answers, right? With enough canned lines you get… “AI: Kid Edition,” lol.]

[+1]

[Even then, it’s not true full AI coverage. False advertising—open-and-shut!]

Iono looked at the screen, expression turning earnest. Fake or not, her love for Electric-types was real. She pressed E and answered, word by word:

“Because Electric-types are bursting with energy—speed and power like lightning. Being with them fills me with endless vitality!”

Birch’s voice came back with a little applause:

“Wonderful! I didn’t expect you to love Electric-types that much!”

“Honestly, I see them the same way. Between us, my favorite is Pikachu—the lightning-shaped tail is just too cute… irresistible.”

Listening to that, Iono realized something was off.

No way.

If these were prewritten lines… they were awfully specific—and plentiful.

And for some reason, the exchange didn’t feel like a fake NPC—it felt like a real professor.

Could these NPCs actually be autonomous?

There was one way to test it: ask something bizarre and irrelevant—something no dev would think to script, and that a canned reply couldn’t handle.

Decision made, she pressed E:

“Professor Birch, off-topic: which tastes better—miso soup or curry rice? And why?”

On-screen, Birch visibly paused, puzzled, then answered:

“Eh? Why ask that all of a sudden?”

“…But if I have to pick, I’d say curry. Potatoes and carrots are must-have sides.”

“Also, I don’t like chicken in it—beef is better. That’s when curry smells the best!”

Iono’s eyes went wide. Shock washed over her.

It’s real.

The NPCs really do have intelligent coverage.

Otherwise he couldn’t have answered that.

But… how? How could a few-hundred-megabyte pixel game pull this off?

Chat caught on too:

[Wait—this might actually be AI?!]

[Yeah, if it were keywords and scripts, it wouldn’t be this nuanced!]

[Broooo you’re for real??]

[Where’s the “false advertising” lawyer now? Step up!]

While everyone reeled, Birch brought them back:

“All right, back on topic. Since you want an Electric-type, I was just thinking—we do have one that could work as a starter.”

He moved to a machine, tapped a few keys, and a Poké Ball stamped with a lightning icon blinked into the tray.

“See if this little one suits you.”

He opened it. White light flashed, and a Pokémon covered in pale fleece like a little sheep appeared—adorable even in pixels.

Mareep. An Electric-type—cute, but its wool stores charge and can discharge it in a burst when needed.

Iono’s eyes lit up at first sight.

She’d never raised one before.

“This one! Thank you, Professor!”

After leaving with her starter, she tried chatting with a few NPCs around town, confirming her hunch—the game really did have full AI coverage.

Even the Pokémon.

When she typed “Pet Mareep’s Head Fluff,” her avatar actually crouched and started petting it. Mareep squinted happily, chirping with delight, then rubbed against her ankles as little hearts popped overhead.

Chat exploded again:

[DUDE. You can do THAT? How is this different from real life??]

[Didn’t Dream Factory make a Pokémon-interaction game last year? Why does this feel better than theirs?]

[This is a “pixel mini-game,” right?]

[The freedom is insane!!]

With her gaming experience, Iono knew exactly what this meant. There was no way this was a mom-and-pop solo project. It had to be a stealth release from a big studio on Dream Factory’s scale.

She didn’t know why they’d hide it, but she couldn’t deny it—her expectations were climbing.

She spent a full two minutes fluffing the sheep, then left Littleroot to start the journey.

Unlike Cynthia’s route, she didn’t fight the rival on the northern road. She just fetched him back and picked up the Pokédex at the lab.

For the record, she named her rival “Banana King.”

Viewers who’d watched Cynthia’s stream fired off confused comments:

[What gives? I was waiting for the rival to show the darker side of humanity… why no fight?]

[Yeah—did they stealth-nerf it? Lame, I wanted the chaos!]

Viewers, of course, love a good streamer wipe. They’d been primed for it—but “Banana King” didn’t battle her.

Now, with Pokédex and Running Shoes in hand, Iono opened the map toward the next city, a little wistful.

“Even if it’s turn-based, I think this combat is pretty fun. Wonder when I’ll get a Trainer battle…”

She hadn’t finished the sentence when a gray-brown fog burst from the grass around the corner, swallowing the screen. Three silhouettes slowly emerged.

“A hidden event?” Iono perked up.

Stirring orchestral music blasted in her ears. Then a man’s voice:

“I think I heard someone ask a question, didn’t I?”

A blue-haired man in a uniform stepped from the haze, a rose between his lips.

“Since you asked so sincerely—”

A red-haired woman strode forward, hair flicking dramatically:

“—we’ll answer with mercy.”

Against a brilliant starfield, the two struck alternating poses like a stage epic:

“To prevent the world from being destroyed!”

“To protect the peace of the world!”

“To carry out love—and the true face of evil!”

“The cute and charming villains!”

“Jessie!”

“James!”

“We’re Team Rocket, traversing the galaxy!”

“A white hole—our white tomorrow awaits!”

“That’s right—meow~”

A Meowth with a gold coin on its forehead popped up, grinning to cap the creed.

The chat fell dead silent.

Seconds later, it detonated:

[?????]

[What did I just watch??]

[I want to laugh… but also kind of feel the hype?]

[Team Rocket? Isn’t that the massive Kanto syndicate the League crushed two years ago?]

[Are we sure this is Team Rocket? They look like comedians.]

[Man, the dev actually dared to use Team Rocket as NPCs. Bold or brilliant…]

You couldn’t blame the reaction. Even if the League had forced them into the shadows in recent years, Team Rocket was still the world’s largest criminal organization. No dev had ever dared put them in a game as villains—an obvious provocation.

Yet here were three… like this… claiming to be Team Rocket.

—Could these three even count as Team Rocket?

And wasn’t the developer afraid of retaliation?

Iono’s attention, however, was elsewhere. Her eyes sparkled like she’d found a rare treasure.

“Wait—did that Meowth just talk?”

Chat snapped back:

[Oh, right! Meowth talked!]

[What’s the big deal—it’s a game. Talking Pokémon’s normal in a game.]

[Yeah, it’s not like a Meowth could talk in real life. If it could, I’d eat my hat.]

Meanwhile, a thousand miles away, in a dark underground warehouse—

“Aa-choo!”

A Meowth lounging on a sofa sneezed, wiped his face with a paw, and grinned.

“Huh?”

“…Could it be the boss finally remembered me, nya?”