Nurse Joy called Skinny. He picked up his two Poké Balls, paid the twenty-thousand fee, and took a cab to the tavern.
When he stepped through the door, the waitress jumped—she knew him as the tavern owner–captain's grandson, and a trainer.
"What are you doing here?"
"I need to see Grandpa." He slipped past her; big sisters held no interest for him—battles did. He went straight behind the counter and looked at the old man.
"You came?" The old man caught the waitress's look, turned, and finally saw his grandson standing there.
He'd always kept the boy away from this place. He knew exactly what kind of people drank here—and how easily they could warp a kid.
He didn't realize the warping was already done. Or maybe "tempering" was fairer. Either way, he'd sent the boy to be remade, and he would carry that himself.
"Grandpa, I've got something important."
"Grandpa? That's a first." His face bloomed like a chrysanthemum. He waved the waitress to mind the bar and led Skinny to the back room.
"Here—Machop. Big Brother asked you to handle it. He wants two million," Skinny said, handing over the ball.
"Machop, huh. Two million's fine." The old man guessed it must be the one from the hospital brute. So Reiji had wrapped that up as well. He'd move this together with the other four.
But that wasn't the point. The point was the boy calling him "Grandpa." That change had Reiji's fingerprints on it. Maybe handing the kid over had been his smartest call.
While he was still savoring that, Skinny dropped a bomb that knocked the smile off his face.
"Grandpa, Big Brother said this one is worth two million—really?" Skinny held up his own spoils: a Primeape. He wasn't sure about Reiji's quote.
"Primeape? More than two. On the black market you can get a bit over three," the old man said plainly. He had no reason to hide prices from his grandson—and he had the channels to fetch them.
Then he snatched the ball in surprise. "Don't tell me this one's his to sell too?"
"No. It's mine," Skinny said, taking the ball back and staking his claim.
"Yours? Where did you get a Primeape?" A bad feeling crawled up the old man's spine.
"Old man, I told you—don't try to take it." If he wanted the old man to handle the sale, he had to lay things out. That was why he'd started with "Grandpa."
"Fine, I won't. Talk." The old man could already guess what he and Reiji had done. He was starting to regret turning the boy over to that kid—of all things to teach, stealing Pokémon?
He still hadn't realized how far it had gone.
"Two guys tailed me, found Big Brother, and figured out the orphanage. They grabbed Nana to force him. We went to save her—that's how I got this one."
"Not that simple, is it?" The old man put the pieces together. They'd tailed him first, then the boy, then found Reiji in town. The trail started here. Another weight on his back.
"My Poliwhirl couldn't beat the man's two Pokémon. Big Brother saved me. He took Breloom; I took Primeape. I also pulled a bit over a hundred thousand off the guy."
Head lowered, Skinny told him everything.
"I knew it," the old man said. He'd meant to scold, but the kid wasn't hurt—and they'd saved the orphanage girl. He let it go. No point freezing the thaw between them.
"What about the two men?" If they were alive, revenge would come.
"Dead. Buried in the woods."
"How did they die?" His fist tightened. He prayed it wasn't what he thought.
"Big Brother killed one. I killed the other."
The room went dark at the edges. He nearly passed out. Luckily he was already on the couch and just fell back, staring at the ceiling while his heart steadied.
Regret hit hard. Handing the boy to Reiji had been tossing him into the fire. The old man's first kill had been fighting pirates. His grandson had him beat—eleven and a dead man on his hands.
Yes, they'd killed scum. That didn't make it any easier for an old man to swallow. How was he supposed to face his son and daughter-in-law in their graves?
"Grandpa—hey, don't scare me." Skinny shook him.
He snapped awake and snarled, "So you remember I'm your grandpa? I told you to learn how to raise Poliwhirl—not how to kill like him."
"They kidnapped Nana," He said. His mind had settled. Trash wasn't people; no one would miss them.
"You—" The old man had no answer. Ask the boy to beg the brute? Ransom the child? Ask Reiji to surrender and hope they let her go? Reiji wouldn't care about strangers—and paying off kidnappers only bought the next snatch. That path ended with bones picked clean.
Turn it over in any direction—rescue the hostage and kill the kidnappers was the cleanest move. The boy had done the right thing.
But he couldn't get over the line that had been crossed. Eleven years old and blood on his hands.
From this moment on, the kid could not keep following Reiji. He wouldn't allow it.
"Kiddo, stop learning from him. I'll find you another teacher," the old man said, sitting up and pulling the boy down beside him, voice low and earnest.
Killers who treated it like breakfast—what had he been thinking? Thankfully it had only been two days. There was still time to pull the boy back—cut contact and save what could be saved.
He didn't know that two days had already reshaped him. The boy wasn't the same anymore.
(End of Chapter)
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