I like to think I'm a pretty nice guy. I'm happy to help old people cross the street, I check on my neighbor's cat when she's on vacation, and I donate to my local food bank pretty regularly. Still, if a video game allows me to be evil, I'm always going to take it. I was the same with The Sims, trapping entire families in burning buildings; then with Roller Coaster Tycoon 3, building death coasters that left riders feeling more than a little queasy; and now, it's the turn of Pokémon Pokopia.
Let's be clear from the outset here: I'm not going for out-and-out sadism. No, what I'm looking for is maximum efficiency and control. What I mean is, I want to know as soon as Scizor is done with his latest round of wood-cutting or when Magby has made me all the bricks I need so I can put them back to work as quickly as possible. Essentially, I'm developing a labor force and surveillance system surrounding my workers to fuel a future utopia, but more on that later.
Originally, I'd planned on using a cloud island to create my new autocratic state, but there was a problem. I didn't realize that you can't carry over items to a cloud island. Unfortunately, this realization arrived after spending a solid few days grinding resources from Rocky Ridges. So I adjusted my plan and created a new area within the confines of Palette Town, with the help of Magnemite's Magnet Rise ability, terraforming an entire new island out of the ocean, Dubai-style.
From here, the plan was simple. Construct multiple cages using my Pokopia crafting recipes, place Pokémon inside them, and give them jobs to complete. First was Magby, who got a slightly larger cage, as they need a furnace to do their best work. Then Magmar, whom I pulled over from Rocky Ridges, got the same treatment. Up next, it was the wood-cutting duo of Scyther and Scizor, each of which got its own cage, because, hey, I'm not a monster. Next, I locked up Geodude, my crushing specialist, and I was halfway there.
For my litterers - those Pokémon that just leave precious items lying around - I brought over Venusaur for leaves, Bellsprout for vine ropes, Mareep for wool, Glimmet for iron ore, Spinarak for twine, and Clodsire for squishy clay. Each one of them gleefully followed me from their Pokopia habitats to Palette Town, perfectly unaware of their fate. It kind of felt like taking my dog to the vet, except at least he realizes where we are when we arrive at the parking lot.
I also stuck Garbodor in a cell of its own, as it's particularly useful at littering nonburnable garbage and then recycling it into iron ore. I even introduced Machop and Machoke to the fold, alongside the litterers, so I didn't have to gather all the resources myself. I'll admit, I felt a bit bad about the Machoke addition, as it'd been an integral part of my little Rocky Ridges community, but you've got to break a few eggs to make an autocratic omelet.
The final piece of the puzzle was the security camera, or rather, the security cameras. Each cage needed one, so I could check it remotely to see if the job was complete. Fortunately, they're pretty cheap, and the in-game shop starts with 40 in stock, so I picked up as many as I needed and then placed them around my worker island to remotely keep tabs on the smelting, chopping, and everything else.
The finished result was my masterpiece of efficiency. Sure, it didn't look nearly as whimsical or extravagant as any of the builds you might have seen on social media, but this experiment was never about aesthetics. Instead, I had a Pokémon production line, providing me with all the resources I needed to build and decorate to my heart's content. I was post-apocalyptic Kanto's very own Jeff Bezos.
What followed was potentially my most productive time in Pokopia. I could adventure as much as I liked, chasing Pokopia's legendary Pokémon on Dream Islands, all while keeping a close eye on my workers using the security cameras. I'd chosen my viewing angles carefully so I could see when Magby had stopped fueling the furnace or when Machop had collected a bunch of squishy clay. My need for efficiency and organization was satiated, and I didn't even have to pay any wages.
It was all going according to plan until I spoke to Scizor. Even though I had the iconic steel and bug type living in a cage, doomed to chop logs in perpetuity, he seemed so blissfully unaware. In fact, he still seemed perfectly happy. There must be something in the game's code that means that Pokémon aren't aware of their trappings, if those trappings exist, and still think that the home I originally placed them in is where they live. The most frightening thing about this whole experience was Scizor's comfort level, which was, inexplicably, perfectly fine.
That meant there was only one thing to do. It was out with the dystopia and in with the utopia I'd dreamed of, but now, a utopia for all. This is very much still a work in progress, but Scizor, Magby, and all the other mistreated monsters now have their own homes with decorations, toys, and basically everything a Pokémon could ask for. They're still working hard, don't get me wrong; your boy needs logs, but now I don't get that sense of foreboding when they're happy to talk to me. Basically, the guilt is gone.
Ultimately, I learned there is a way to maximize efficiency in Pokopia, but it comes with consequences, both morally and emotionally. Remember the examples, The Sims and RollerCoaster Tycoon, from earlier? The reactions of the characters in those games let you know you're doing something wrong, but something about the naivety of my Pokémon workers just made me feel gross. It's almost like the developers found a cheat code to sidestep Pokémon cruelty: just don't acknowledge it.