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The old captain really was anxious to save his friend. As soon as he received Sato's message, he couldn't sit still. He immediately replied, urging Sato to rescue Prof. Todd as quickly as possible and assuring him that he would handle everything else afterward.
With that reassurance, Sato no longer had any concerns. The only thing left on his plate was figuring out how to extract Prof. Todd from Team Aqua's base.
Fortunately, he still had some time. The old captain was in Slateport City and wouldn't arrive until the afternoon at the earliest. And without clear intel on Reggie's support, Sato wasn't about to act recklessly.
That gave him a window of free time to work on collecting the Team Aqua contribution points he so badly needed.
After grabbing breakfast and making a quick appearance in public to maintain his cover, Sato returned to Baku's room to feed Swampert and the rest of his Pokémon. Once that was done, he headed toward the entertainment district on the base's third floor.
The entertainment district was always the liveliest part of Team Aqua's base. The space wasn't very large, divided mainly into a bar, a service area, and a battle arena.
Of these, the battle arena was the most popular spot for Team Aqua members. The battles here weren't anything like the League's regulated matches — they were brutal, no-holds-barred fights closer to wild encounters.
Once two Trainers stepped onto the stage, unless one forfeited, they were responsible for any and all consequences.
It was precisely this ever-present risk of death that drew huge crowds. Nothing was more thrilling than watching a life-or-death struggle unfold right before your eyes.
Sato, posing as Baku, walked in without raising any suspicion. On one of the platforms, a heated battle was already underway.
Both Pokémon were battered and bloodied, but their Trainers were clearly at odds with each other. Neither was willing to lose, especially with the reward at stake — ten percent of the bet placed on the loser. Every chance they got, they pushed their Pokémon to strike harder.
"Tentacruel, grab him with your tentacles, then use Poison Jab!"
"Now, Crawdaunt — hit back with Night Slash!"
In the rocky field centered around a small pool, Tentacruel's Trainer snapped first, barking orders with murderous intent. But Crawdaunt's Trainer only grinned in triumph — his plan was already in motion.
At some point, Crawdaunt had secretly set up a Substitute. Tentacruel's attack hit nothing more than a battered decoy, while the real Crawdaunt was hidden behind a rock on Tentacruel's right.
The moment Tentacruel's strike missed, Crawdaunt lunged out and landed a decisive Night Slash, finishing the jellyfish off.
Although Tentacruel's Trainer tried to recall it instantly, Crawdaunt still managed to maul it before it could return.
The audience erupted, cheering wildly for Crawdaunt and its Trainer. The atmosphere turned electric.
Sato frowned. He didn't enjoy these kinds of bloody battles. He'd survived plenty of life-and-death fights back on the Mysterious Island, but to see violence glorified as entertainment? That repulsed him even more.
After some thought, he decided against stepping onto the stage himself. He wasn't about to let his Pokémon perform like circus animals for others' amusement.
Still, he needed contribution points to exchange for The Complete Psychic Guide. If he wouldn't fight, he could at least gamble. It might take more time and effort, but it was manageable.
The battle arena covered nearly half the third floor, with ten stages in total. Before each match began, anyone could place bets. The odds shifted based on the ratio of wagers on each side.
Sato had an advantage — his system could scan Pokémon data. But with such brutal, unpredictable battles, even that wasn't always enough to guarantee outcomes. Still, he was a far more experienced Trainer than most gamblers here, with sharper judgment honed through countless real fights.
As a result, his win rate was high. Out of ten matches, he could correctly bet on at least six.
To avoid suspicion and reduce the risk of a sudden heavy loss, he kept each bet fixed at 2,000 points — no more, no less.
Hours slipped by. Sato wagered on thirty-five battles in total. His record: 25 wins, 10 losses. That translated into 30,000 points profit. Adding in the 5,000 Hanmo had returned the night before, plus what he already had, Sato now held over 50,000 points.
But luck never lasts forever. Even though his bets weren't large, such a high success rate inevitably drew unwanted attention. The organizers, less than gracious about his streak, began to take notice.
Soon, some of Baku's rivals started showing up, provoking him openly.
Sato wasn't fooled. He knew exactly what was going on — jealous eyes wanted him gone. This was their way of warning him off, of stopping him from earning any more contribution points.
But he was playing the role of the madman Baku. How could he back down from a challenge?
Besides, if people were offering him money on a silver platter, why refuse?
And so, a three-on-three battle was arranged on Arena Stage Three.