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Nova quietly compared the two distribution systems in his head and decided the regional model was the better one.
At least in that system, people had a choice. If someone had no interest in becoming a Trainer, they weren't forced to take on the cost of a Starter Pokémon in the first place.
In Unova, everyone received one — but it was effectively a loan taken out at birth, whether the person wanted it or not. For someone who never planned to work with Pokémon, that debt was simply a waste.
Karena continued the tour, moving through the details of the factory's purpose. At its core, she explained, the Pokémon Factory existed for one reason: volume. It produced Starter Pokémon in large numbers every year to meet the demand from children across the Alliance who needed their first partner.
The obvious downside was that mass production made individual quality difficult to guarantee. In fact, it was fair to say that only a very small number of factory-bred Pokémon ended up with exceptional potential. Even Charlie— a well-connected figure who had personally brought his daughter to a Pokémon Factory to hand-pick her first partner — had walked away with a Treecko rated at Purple Talent. That alone said a great deal about how rare a truly outstanding result was under this system.
The Breeding House model was the opposite in almost every way. Because each Pokémon was raised and evaluated individually by experienced breeders, the proportion of high-potential hatchlings was noticeably higher. Purple and Gold Talent Pokémon appeared more often, and the quality of individual traits tended to be much more reliable.
The catch, as always, was supply. Output from a Breeding House was limited by the number of breeders and the time they could give to each clutch. For trainers outside the local region, obtaining a Breeding House Starter was extremely difficult without the right connections. In the Brittany region — the native home of Sprigatito — the Starter Pokémon hatchlings were almost entirely claimed by the children of noble families before they ever reached the general public. What little remained for ordinary people was barely worth mentioning.
Aresdra had been listening carefully, and after a moment she asked, "Karena, why can't the Alliance use both methods at the same time? That way, the factory covers the shortage in numbers, and the Breeding Houses fill in the gap in quality."
Karena smiled, just slightly. It was the kind of smile that said the question was a reasonable one, but the answer wasn't quite so simple.
"Because where a Pokémon Factory operates," she said, "a Breeding House cannot survive."
Aresdra looked puzzled. Nova, on the other hand, understood exactly what Karena meant.
A Pokémon Factory was an industrial production line. A Breeding House was a handcrafted one. When both competed in the same market, the handcrafted model always lost — not because it was inferior in quality, but because it couldn't match the price or the volume. Mass production drove out artisan work. It happened in every industry, and Pokémon breeding was no different.
It was also why the Alliance, despite having the technology to shift all Pokémon breeding into factories entirely, had chosen not to. Mandating the factory model only for Starter Pokémon was a deliberate compromise — a way to keep institutions like the Jenny Family Kennels alive, preserving the knowledge and craft that large-scale production simply could not replicate.
Still talking, the three of them arrived at the first stop of the official tour: the Incubation Room.
Thousands of Pokémon Eggs, each bearing the same repeating pattern of Torchic's species markings, sat in neat rows inside massive temperature-controlled incubation units. The scale of it was genuinely difficult to take in all at once.
"Guests who are qualified to personally select a Pokémon usually choose from the hatchlings," Karena said. "But if you'd prefer to take an Egg directly from here, that's also an option."
Nova quietly activated his scanning ability. Colored nameplates bloomed across his vision, one for every Egg in the room.
A few Purple Talent tags appeared in the mix — but he didn't intend to choose from here.
The problem with scanning an Egg was that it told him almost nothing useful. The nameplate showed a color rating and the words Pokémon Egg, and that was it. No traits. No breakdown of potential. Talent level alone wasn't enough information to make a sound choice. Two Pokémon could share the same rating and end up worlds apart in actual strength, depending on the traits they hatched with. Picking blindly from a clutch of Eggs was no different from pulling a number out of a hat.
Nova preferred to see what he was working with. He wanted to look at hatchlings.
The timing, unfortunately, was awkward. The factory ran two breeding cycles per year — one in June, one in December. It was now mid-May. Nearly ninety percent of the Torchic from the first-half batch had already been claimed, and the next batch was still inside its Eggs. If the nursery didn't have anything worth choosing, he was willing to come back and take the gamble on an Egg. But he'd rather not.
The nursery was a different kind of space compared to the Incubation Room. Where the Incubation Room was vast and still, the nursery was lively and a little chaotic — a large workshop where the remaining Torchic hatchlings spent their days. There was a shared feeding area, a sleeping quarter, and a modest play space with a few enrichment setups to keep the chicks from getting restless.
Even so, the conditions were crowded by nature, and Torchic were naturally energetic Pokémon. The little chicks made no secret of the fact that they wanted out. Each new visitor who walked in got a round of eager churr-ing and small wings flapping against the barrier panels.
They wouldn't have to wait long. Even if Aresdra didn't choose any of them today, the remaining hatchlings would be shipped to young Trainers across the Alliance within the next two or three days.
Nova scanned the nursery and found what he was looking for — two or three Torchic showing Purple Talent ratings. That roughly matched the factory's expected output rate: one Purple Talent individual for every three hundred hatchlings or so.
He watched them for a bit, then quietly shook his head.
The traits weren't good enough. Two of the Purple Talent Torchic had only two traits apiece, and both sets were unremarkable. The third had three traits, which was better — but their effects were average at best. None of them stood out as something he'd want to build around.
Talent rating mattered, but it wasn't everything. The real difference between two Pokémon of the same rating came down to their traits. Among his own team, Corviknight had the most ordinary trait set — but Nova had the Cultivation System to work with. He could selectively breed traits like Toxic onto a Nidoking through careful effort, and he had long-term plans to strengthen Corviknight through other means down the line.
Aresdra didn't have those resources. Which meant that if they were going to choose a Starter for her here, it had to count. The right combination of high talent and useful traits wasn't something she could patch up later.
Nova turned to Karena. "Are all the hatchlings from this half-year's batch in this room?"
Karena paused, looking faintly hesitant — as if she was weighing something. Then she answered honestly.
"Not all of them, no. Over the course of the half-year, we've also received a number of returns. These Torchic were sent back by their original recipients, usually because of some minor issue or another. Handling returned Pokémon every season is..." She trailed off with a small sigh. "It's always a headache."
Nova's attention sharpened immediately.
Returns? He kept his expression neutral, but something clicked into place.
Problem children, he thought. That's exactly what I'm looking for.