When Japan’s Patent Office (JPO) issued its latest notice regarding Nintendo and The Pokémon Company’s divisional patent application No. 2026-019762, the decision itself wasn’t the surprise. The tone was.
In a field defined by dry procedural language and cautious neutrality, the JPO’s examiner delivered a rejection so pointed, so openly dismissive of Nintendo’s counterarguments, that Japanese legal circles and online communities erupted in equal parts amusement and disbelief. For a patent office known for restraint, this was a rare moment of rhetorical spice — and it arrived in the middle of one of the most closely watched gaming lawsuits of the decade.
At the center of the storm: a patent describing an “in‑game monster‑capturing system”, a concept foundational to Pokémon and now entangled in Nintendo’s ongoing legal battle with Palworld developer Pocketpair.
A patent tied to a lawsuit that shook the industry
Nintendo’s divisional application is part of the same patent family being leveraged in the Palworld lawsuit currently unfolding in Tokyo District Court. While the rejected application is not the patent directly asserted against Pocketpair, its fate matters: it represents Nintendo’s attempt to broaden the legal perimeter around monster‑catching mechanics.
The JPO’s refusal to grant this additional protection — and the way it communicated that refusal — adds a new wrinkle to the already complex legal chess match between Nintendo and Pocketpair.
The unexpected star witness: a 2013 YouTube fangame video
The JPO’s initial reasoning for rejecting the patent leaned heavily on a surprising piece of prior art: a YouTube gameplay video from 2013 showcasing Pokémon Generations, an unofficial fangame.
The examiner argued that the video demonstrated mechanics similar to those Nintendo sought to patent — for example, selecting a Poké Ball icon to trigger a throw animation and capture a creature. In patent terms, this meant Nintendo’s application lacked an inventive step.
Nintendo’s response was swift and forceful. The company insisted that the fangame was an infringing work and that the examiner had “acted extremely inappropriately” by treating it as though it were authorized. This accusation appeared repeatedly throughout Nintendo’s counterarguments.
But the JPO was unmoved.
JPO to Nintendo: copyright infringement is irrelevant here
In its final notice, the examiner dismissed Nintendo’s copyright‑based objections outright. Under Japanese patent law, whether a cited work infringes copyright has no bearing on whether it can be used to evaluate inventive step.
The examiner went further, characterizing Nintendo’s interpretation as a “completely unreasonable misunderstanding” and noting that the company’s stance deviated from “standard thinking for patent practitioners.”
For a government office that typically avoids emotional language, this was unusually blunt.
The examiner’s irritation becomes a talking point
One section of the notice quickly went viral in Japan due to its almost comedic frustration.
Nintendo argued that the JPO should not refer to characters like Ash, Pikachu, or Poké Balls by name, insisting they should instead be described as “a character infringing upon Ash,” “a character infringing upon Pikachu,” and so on.
The examiner responded with a hypothetical scenario dripping with sarcasm: if Nintendo’s logic were followed, the rejection notice would need to replace familiar terms with absurdly literal descriptions such as:
- “an object in the form of a small animal” instead of Pokémon
- “an object in the form of a boy wearing a red cap” instead of Ash
- “a spherical object with a red upper half and a white lower half” instead of a Poké Ball
Even with such awkward phrasing, the examiner noted, the underlying logic of the rejection would remain unchanged — therefore, Nintendo’s argument had “no bearing” on the inventive‑step analysis.
This passage became a favorite among Japanese patent professionals and social media users, who rarely see this level of exasperation in official documents.
Nintendo’s “merely a video” argument meets another sharp rebuttal
Nintendo also claimed that the fangame footage was “merely a video,” implying that technical features of a game program could not be reliably extracted from it.
The examiner interpreted this argument in two possible ways:
- Nintendo accepts the footage is real gameplay but believes video alone cannot disclose technical elements.
- Nintendo doubts the footage is gameplay at all and suggests it might be an animated video with narration designed to mimic gameplay.
The examiner dismissed both interpretations. In the second scenario, the notice dryly remarked that such deceptive behavior by the uploader would be “way too preposterous.”
Again, unusually spicy language for a patent office.
The rejection stands — but the lawsuit continues
The JPO ultimately upheld its rejection of the divisional patent. Nintendo now has three months to file a petition for a trial against the decision.
Crucially, this rejection does not invalidate the patent currently being used in the Palworld lawsuit. It only affects Nintendo’s attempt to secure an additional patent within the same family.
Still, the optics matter. The JPO’s unusually sharp tone suggests frustration with Nintendo’s legal strategy — and the public reaction shows how closely the gaming world is watching every move in the Palworld dispute.
Why this matters for the industry
This episode highlights several broader themes:
- The limits of IP expansion: Even giants like Nintendo cannot always widen their patent shield, especially when prior art — even infringing prior art — exists.
- The growing scrutiny of game mechanics patents: As games become more complex and derivative, patent offices are increasingly cautious about granting broad gameplay patents.
- The cultural impact of legal language: The JPO’s tone became a story of its own, reflecting a rare moment where bureaucratic writing crossed into public entertainment.
For Nintendo, the battle continues. For Pocketpair, this rejection is not a victory — but it is a reminder that the legal terrain is shifting. And for the rest of the industry, it’s a case study in how even a single YouTube video from 2013 can echo across a billion‑dollar franchise.
