>>50160919Retailers have posted signs on their entrances that read, “We have no Pokémon bread,” while some store owners stand accused of bundling the in-demand pastries with unpopular items. Hunters camp outside supermarkets early in the morning. The rarest of stickers, such as that of the legendary characters Mew and Mewtwo, fetch $40 online. Full collections command more than $700, the listings show. Actual children also try to find the stickers, but adults are using their greater resources for the hunt.
Ko Hyo-jin shrieked when she ripped open a package of “Diglett Strawberry Custard Bread” recently and discovered inside a sticker of Mewtwo—a two-legged monster shown extending its paw. She immediately dialed up her husband. “It felt like winning the lottery,” said the 39-year-old homemaker in the Seoul suburbs.
For months, Ms. Ko had been cooped up indoors studying for a veterinary-technician license exam. She planned to blow off post-exam steam by binge-watching Netflix shows. Instead, she went on a Pokémon hunt that forced her outdoors, walking around to different stores near her home. “Collecting the stickers felt almost as if I were actually catching Pokémon monsters,” she said.
Son Mi-sun, who owns and manages a 7-Eleven convenience store in Seoul, receives just a handful of Pokémon pastries daily at around 9 p.m.—sometimes just one. But most nights three to five customers are waiting as the delivery truck pulls in.
“I don’t know why the quantity is so limited,” Ms. Son said. “It could be a marketing ploy orchestrated by the manufacturer.”
