After he and Skinny split up, Reiji pulled his mask back on, flipped up his hood, and headed straight to the port tavern.
The moment he stepped inside, the regulars stopped drinking and stared. Surprise flickered everywhere—this kid was still alive? Hadn't Dan taken care of him?
Reiji ignored the looks, walked to the bar, set four Poké Balls down, and said, "Give me a price."
"Well now, I wondered why you'd show up. Who'd you rob this time?" the old barkeep joked, but his grin faded as he checked each ball. The lineup reminded him a little too much of someone he knew. He set them down, voice even. "Primeape and Machoke, two million each. The two Breloom, two million together."
"Make Primeape and Machoke two-fifty each and they're yours," Reiji said. He had other business. The old man would profit either way; that was fine.
Not every Primeape fetched three million like the last one—especially when that sale had been… special. And these four weren't monsters: the Primeape was level 41, the rest were lower. Their move pools and potential hovered in the low forties—nothing that screamed 'Champ in the making.' He could squeeze a bit more at the black market, but time mattered more.
"Done. Seven million total. Cash, or…?"
"Cash." Bank transfers bled fees—seven million in, seventy thousand out. He wasn't feeding that beast.
The old man led him behind the counter to collect. Reiji stowed the money in his space pack—alongside a slip of paper. An address, clear as day: East District Hospital. A room number. One glance told Reiji everything he needed; no questions required.
Old fox. Easy to work with—he knew what Reiji wanted before Reiji asked.
Reiji left without another word, mounted Pelipper, and flew toward the hospital on the note.
It wasn't far—Dan had picked the closest hospital when he'd hauled his brother in. Reiji found the room quickly but didn't barge in. From the hall he watched the brute he'd crippled earlier, lounging on the bed, laughing into a phone.
Reiji slipped into the empty room next door and released Butterfree. "Sleep Powder. Through the window."
"Buu–rii." Butterfree nodded, dusting powder above the sill, then fanning a breeze to carry it in.
Outside, Reiji waited until the phone slipped from the man's hand and he slumped into sleep. Then he stepped in, shut the door, hung up the call, and hauled the man to the window—where Spinarak's web already sagged in the night air. One push, and the body fell safely into silk. Single-patient room—no witnesses. Big brother had paid good money for privacy; it worked against them now.
Before leaving, Reiji spotted a Poké Ball on the nightstand. He palmed it, locked it, and dropped it into his pack. Machop inside—another two million, easy. Not bad for cleanup work. He vaulted out the window, recalled Butterfree, let Spinarak hop onto his shoulder, and whistled Pelipper down.
Pelipper gripped the man and lifted off toward the same quiet woods.
Back at the hospital, a nurse came to change bandages and found the bed empty. No discharge on file. Her coworker shrugged. "Forget it. File it and move on. Not our problem." Word spread among the petty toughs who knew the man. They drew the same conclusion—and scattered to divvy up whatever assets he'd stashed. No one wanted beef with whoever could make him vanish.
Ten minutes of night flight later, Pelipper dropped into the trees. Reiji released Krabby. "Dig me five meters."
"Krk-krk." Krabby burrowed. Reiji went to work. He wouldn't risk a live burial—he'd seen men claw out in movies. He drove the knife into the man's heart.
The brute jolted awake at the pain. His eyes found Reiji's—and recognized them. Those were the eyes that had stepped on him that night, the trainer who took his Mankey, the one his big brother swore he'd avenge tonight. If this man was here… then big brother was already dead. The realization flickered; blood bubbled from his lips. Then nothing.
Reiji stripped twelve thousand Pokédollars from the body and pocketed them, tossed the junk into the pit, shoved the corpse in—knife still in the chest—and let Krabby fill the hole. He rinsed his hands at the shore, came back to a neat earthen mound, and had Spinarak lay a bit of camouflage.
He recalled Krabby, mounted Pelipper again, and headed for the Pokémon Center—Poliwhirl and the others needed treatment.
Another short hop, and Pelipper touched down. Reiji recalled Spinarak and Pelipper, then queued up inside.
When it was his turn, he slid six Poké Balls and his ID to Nurse Joy. "Nurse Joy, my Poliwhirl's badly hurt. Please—prioritize it."
"Of course, Trainer Reiji. One moment," she said, loading the balls onto the cart as Chansey wheeled them toward emergency care.
Reiji sat in the waiting area, listening to trainers chat.
"Did you see all the new Pokémon on the streets? There was this blue dog-looking one—so cool. Luca… something?"
"Lucario. Sinnoh-region Fighting-type. People say it has 'Aura'—kind of like psychic power."
"I want a Lucario so bad. That blue one's gorgeous."
"Go home and sleep early. Maybe you'll dream of one."
"Why not dream of a Legendary while you're at it?"
"I heard the Day Care's holding an auction. They've got a Lucario Egg."
"Yeah, and I heard it hit over a hundred million Pokédollars before some rich guy bought it."
"A hundred million? That's robbery."
"Supposedly it's the Aura thing. Don't ask me. Anyway, the idiot with money isn't you, so why get worked up?"
"Hah—just once, I'd like to be that kind of idiot."
Reiji blinked. News of Lucario reached Orange Archipelago this fast? If Lucario was surfacing here, then his hunch about Electabuzz evolving wouldn't stay secret long either—though nothing had leaked yet.
Still, Lucario drew more of his attention. He wanted one too. But the price was ridiculous, unless he stole it, he could forget it. And make no mistake: Lucario had the stature to command that price—one of the few non-Legendaries with its own standalone movie. With this region's love of Fighting-types, the price wasn't shocking.
While Reiji cleaned up loose ends and waited on treatment, Skinny had already carried Nana back to the orphanage.
…
"Kiddo, why are you back?" the director asked, hurrying over on his cane when he saw the boy and sleeping Nana.
"Director, Big Brother and I rescued her," Skinny said, setting her down gently and steadying the old man.
"Rescued? She wasn't out looking for you?" He'd noticed Nana gone in the afternoon, but assumed she'd snuck out to find Reiji. He hadn't called Officer Jenny—Skinny often came home late, and calling the police over every delay created more problems than it solved. If she hadn't returned with Skinny, then he would have called.
He hadn't expected a kidnapping.
"What happened? Why would anyone take Nana?"
"Reiji's enemies tracked me, found him… and the orphanage. They tried to use Nana as a hostage. We took them down and got her back," Skinny said, giving the broad strokes—then, seeing the director's confusion, filled in the stalking, the snatch, the forest fight.
"Sigh… as long as you're safe. As long as she's safe." Relief softened the old man's eyes. Skinny looked different—steadier. No panic, no babbling adrenaline—just a calm recounting.
"Director, please take Nana back to rest. I still need to hit the Pokémon Center. Without Reiji, my Pokémon would've been hurt worse…"
"Go. I'll look after her." The director patted his shoulder. Whatever the boy had faced out there, he'd come home alive. That was enough.
"Don't worry. Big Brother's gone to handle the last problem. No one will come after the orphanage again."
"I know. Go on."
Skinny ran. At this hour taxis were scarce; if only he had a Pelipper like Reiji—good in battle, good as transport. Tomorrow, he promised himself, he'd catch a Wingull. He was done with sprinting himself half to death.
He finally reached a busier street and flagged a cab.
At the Center, after handing over two Poké Balls and his ID for intake, the kid turned toward the seats—and spotted a familiar figure in a mask.
"Big Brother—you're here too?" he blurted, grinning.
(End of Chapter)
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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