Humans have long encrypted and preserved information in text, confident it was stored in a form which few pokemon could decipher. Of course, there were exceptions; Unown gave them the idea in the first place, Pidove were (and are) taught literacy by their trainers to fulfill their role as messengers. Nothing can be kept from many psychic pokemon; if one could somehow hide the meanings of letters, it still could not stop them from reading literate minds. Yet still, the scribes of Galar would be horrified to learn that their books are wide open to one of the region's most common bug pokemon.

Blipbug are an intensely curious species, but this curiosity is tempered by a shy secrecy which leaves them unwilling to learn through conversation. Books offer these pokemon a perfect method for solitary learning, and by the time one evolves to Doppler, a Blipbug has typically read through a small library. Yet they have maintained their secret, for the ancient monks and modern librarians have mistaken Blipbug's hunger for knowledge for a very different kind of hunger – an impression these bookwormsdeliberately cultivate by devouring the occasional bit of white space or redundant text.

It is fair to wonder why the Blipbug go to such lengths to protect their secret literacy, or perhaps even whether I am wronging them by revealing it to you. After all, many a Blipbug has been chased away by an angry caretaker anxious to protect their priceless book, and other texts rendered inaccessible by bug spray. Something deep in Blipbug's evolutionary memory has taught them that is dangerous to be perceived as smart, perhaps from an era when Man was far less self-assured in its dominance. But that era is no more, and Blipbug need no longer be ashamed to read.