The first batch of shop owners authorized by the Pokémon Center were not entirely confident in the initial period of their operation.
Sega had almost stringent requirements for the unified decoration style of the Pokémon Center.
From the font and color of the signboard to the arrangement of shelves inside the store, and even the size of promotional posters on the walls, everything was meticulously specified.
A considerable amount for signboard production and decoration, plus the deposit for "honest operation," weighed heavily on their minds.
What if this trend was just a fleeting phenomenon?
Such whispers occasionally surfaced with the bubbles in their wine glasses during private gatherings of a few close shop owners, then quietly dissipated.
However, everything changed after Jigglypuff's evolution demonstration exploded like a bomb, creating a massive wave in the world of children.
The noticeably increased foot traffic in their stores made these shop owners the most prominent figures on the commercial street.
The crisp sound of the cash register hardly stopped from the moment they opened for business.
The excited screams of children, the slightly helpless yet indulgent smiles of parents, and the consumption within the stores by the crowds drawn by pokémon all proved that the authorization of this Pokémon Center was well worth it.
Any previous resentment about the decoration costs and deposit had long been washed away by the continuously rising daily turnover.
The shop owners now walked with a spring in their step, their faces beaming with undisguised smiles.
They began to proactively request their employees to study pokémon knowledge, ensuring that every customer received the most professional answers.
The store's hygiene standards even exceeded Sega's initial requirements; the floors were so gleaming they could reflect the eager faces of children.
They were terrified that even the slightest oversight might cause Sega to revoke this cash cow-like authorization.
Time, with the broadcast of the pokémon anime, unknowingly entered December.
The air began to be filled with the unique atmosphere of Christmas.
The plot of the pokémon anime also gradually entered its climax, with each episode sparking new waves of discussion among children.
In this month full of anticipation, Sega released the second batch of pokémon electronic pets as scheduled, designated as "Set B" by Sega.
It included Nidoran♀, Nidoran♂, Clefairy, Vulpix, Growlithe, Oddish, Paras, Venonat, Zubat, Diglett, Mankey, Poliwag, Abra, Machop, and Eevee, also fifteen in total.
Along with the launch of Set B electronic pets, new service items for the Pokémon Center were also introduced.
On the counter, four new evolution stones, shining with different lusters, were added: the "Fire Stone," as hot as flames; the "Thunder Stone," flashing with electric light; the "Water Stone," as serene as the deep sea; and the "Leaf Stone," emitting a grassy green glow.
In addition, a small device called the "Link Cable" quietly appeared on the shelves of the Pokémon Center.
This small item allowed trainers to exchange pokémon, functioning just like the exchanger on the S.S. Anne cruise ship.
Immediately, the world of children was ignited once again.
The anime's plot advanced to episode fourteen, where Satoshi's Pikachu challenged gym leader Lt. Surge's Raichu at the Vermilion Gym, resulting in a shocking and devastating defeat. On the TV screen, Raichu, almost twice the size of Pikachu, seemed unstoppable with every attack; in a flash of lightning, Satoshi's Pikachu fell. This strong visual impact made every child with a Pikachu electronic pet empathize, as if their own companion had also experienced a rout. In the anime, Satoshi clutched the Thunder Stone, facing the difficult choice of whether to evolve Pikachu, and that pain and reluctance were clearly conveyed to the audience outside the screen.
This scene, like a branding iron, was deeply imprinted on Kyosuke's heart. He lowered his head, looking at the black experience bar below his electronic pet's screen, which was already full, even slightly glowing due to overflowing energy. His Pikachu had clearly reached the critical point of evolution, only lacking an opportunity. The newly stocked Thunder Stone on the Pokémon Center counter, in his eyes now, was both hope and a difficult hurdle to easily overcome. Should he maintain Pikachu's current agility and familiar appearance from their daily companionship, or should he let it evolve into a more powerful Raichu to defeat opponents that were previously unbeatable in battles with other children? Kyosuke's small hand unconsciously caressed the electronic pet's casing; the little Pikachu on the screen seemed to sense its owner's unease, letting out a few questioning chirps. His small face was tightly furrowed, that same dilemma as the anime's protagonist almost overflowing. This kind of trouble, stemming from pure love, quietly spread like delicate vines in the hearts of countless children who owned Pikachu.
At the same time, Eevee in Set B electronic pets brought children another form of "sweet burden." Fire Stone, Thunder Stone, Water Stone—three different evolution directions, corresponding to three distinctly handsome forms. Flareon's passion, Jolteon's swiftness, Vaporeon's elegance—each was full of temptation. This unprecedented diversity of evolution paths instantly made Eevee the most dazzling star in Set B, even overshadowing all other pokémon.
"What will my Eevee evolve into?" This question almost became the top priority every Eevee owner thought about upon waking up each day; even in class, some children would stare blankly at Eevee's pixelated face.
In front of the Pokémon Center counter, discussions about evolution stones rose and fell.
"I definitely want Flareon, red, how cool!" a little boy wearing a baseball cap loudly declared, as if he already owned that majestic Flareon.
A little girl with pigtails next to him immediately retorted, "Jolteon is strong, it runs like lightning!"
"Vaporeon is the prettiest, like a mermaid," another quieter girl whispered.
Some children from affluent families, accompanied by their parents, even made grand declarations of "I want them all" directly at the counter, waving their small hands, planning to buy three Eevee and collect all three colored evolution stones, vowing to gather all evolutionary forms. This action drew envious glances from around them.
Besides Pikachu and Eevee, Vulpix and Growlithe in Set B could use the Fire Stone to evolve, Oddish needed the Leaf Stone, and Poliwag corresponded to the Water Stone. Owners of these pokémon also harbored anticipation and excitement, joining the large queues at the Pokémon Center to purchase evolution stones and related services. At the cash registers, the staff were incredibly busy, but their smiles, like the owners', were genuine and radiant. The newly appeared "Link Cable" was also surrounded by curious children, full of wonder about this small machine that allowed them to exchange pokémon with other friends. They were already imagining exchanging their beloved pokémon with friends, or those they didn't have. The pokémon world before Christmas was completely abuzz with the arrival of evolution and exchange.
During the pre-Christmas sales peak, Sega's production lines were like money printing machines running at full throttle.
Takuya Nakayama's Hong Kong contract factory, which he had started planning months ago, was now operating at full capacity, ensuring an ample supply of goods and avoiding the awkward supply shortages experienced during the initial launch of the first batch of electronic pets.
Partnering peripheral manufacturers had also long smelled the business opportunity, closely following the popularity of the anime and games, launching a large number of plush toys, stationery, and apparel related to new pokémon and new evolutionary forms.
A dazzling array of pokémon merchandise almost occupied the most prominent positions in toy stores.
This pokémon craze, sweeping across the country, silently absorbed a significant portion of the budget originally planned for traditional console games in the year-end consumer market, like a giant sponge.