Would You Mind If I Play? - Chapter 66 - Xi Gong Stadium

The eldest son of the assassin aristocrat Tuatha Dé.

The skill, experience, knowledge of the previous life, magic, all of which grows his power as an assassin.

Excellent assassins pass through. He was usually admired as the ideal lord, and behind it wielded a blade as an assassin aristocrat.

He Gui can freely travel between reality and the parallel world in 1985.

The disappearing Chinese rhino appeared.

Spotted soft-shelled turtle and white dolphin appeared again.

The extinct local pigs are on the table again.

He Gui: I am as stable as an old dog in the real world, but I attack everywhere in the parallel world. PS: During the new book period, there are two updates every day, 8 in the morning and 6 in the evening. Mengxin asks for recommendation, collection, investment.

- Description from novelbuddy

Set in a Pokéverse where the remnants of our civilization's Earth lie buried under the resurgent human/Pokémon societies, this epic Saga follows the protagonist through his journey to the heights of Pokemon Training and beyond, across a planet that was only saved from ecological disaster by an act of Arceus. As Humanity and Pokémon coexist in this fusion of settings, the story will explore themes of war, oppressive cults, and Shadow infusion, in a world where Pokémon healing and battles echo the anime in realistic, but not overtly graphic ways. Pokémon do not rip each other apart in Battles, though it can sometimes happen in the wild.This is a very long journey fic that's kind of a Crossover with everything. But with Pokémon. So you might see characters like Shaggy Rogers, or Izuku Midoriya, but with Pokémon teams. Pokémon legends like Red, Gary Oak, and the reigning World Champion, Ash Ketchum, are also, naturally, present in the setting. Think of this slice of the Pokéverse as one where it's all coming together.

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.