"There are still seven days before registration closes—what's the rush?"
Reiji was weighing how much of his strength to reveal. Getting through the prelims would be a cakewalk; the real show would be the knockout rounds.
He mainly wanted match reps—both battle and tournament experience—so he wouldn't get burned by inexperience later.
"Reiji, so you mean…?"
"Let's see in a couple days. Worst case, we just go watch." He didn't commit yet; if nothing urgent came up, taking two days off training to study real high-level bouts sounded fine.
"Right… I talked it over with Chubbs. We're planning to enter. But if I want to clear prelims, I really need a third Pokémon, and my new one—Wingull—was just caught. Poliwhirl and Wingull both get countered hard by Electric types. I'm thinking of catching something that counters Electric. Any suggestions?"
"A partner to cover Electric, huh." Reiji thought aloud. "Ground is the cleanest answer—you know that much, right?"
"I do… I just don't know which Ground mon." Skinny scratched his head, eyes drifting to the shoreline where Reiji's Rhyhorn was slamming trees with a thudding thunk thunk. After a few days together he'd noticed something odd about that Rhyhorn: it wasn't afraid of water. It would even wade into the pool to soak, and being Ground-type, it didn't care about Electric moves either. Perfect anti-Electric and not weak to Water—too bad it wasn't his.
"For Ground, you've got a lot of choices," Reiji listed. "Sandshrew, Diglett, Cubone, Phanpy, Trapinch, Rhyhorn, Gligar, Nidoqueen, Nidoking, Geodude, Onix, Wooper, Swinub…"
He paused when Skinny still didn't bite, followed his gaze, and smiled. "You've got your eye on Rhyhorn?"
"Reiji… your Rhyhorn isn't afraid of water, right?"
"Yeah—problem?" Reiji blinked. Was that weird? It was a totem's offspring.
"I want a Ground-type that isn't afraid of water too. I just don't know which Ground-types can do that."
"They exist, but they're rare," Reiji shook his head. "Think stuff like certain Rhydon lines in the wild, crystal Onix-types, the island-boss line… they're special specimens. Mine's like that too—totem offspring, oversized, water-tolerant, even unusually resistant to Ice."
Finding one was, frankly, luck.
"Really? Where?" Skinny leaned in.
"Special cases like that are rare—rarer than that Wingull we snagged last night. It's all luck whether you meet one."
"Oh…" His brief excitement deflated.
Reiji pivoted. "You don't have to go Ground to deal with Electric. Electric beats Electric too—if you use the right abilities."
"How's that possible?" Skinny frowned—holes in fundamentals.
"Abilities like Lightning Rod and Volt Absorb do the trick," Reiji said. "A Pikachu with Lightning Rod, a Jolteon with Volt Absorb… anyway, crack the books. And in general, every Electric type resists Electric moves. In Kinnow City, an Electric partner might pull more weight day-to-day than a Ground one."
"Lightning Rod… Volt Absorb… Electric types…" Skinny muttered, not pressing when Reiji cut himself off mid-example—clearly something hush-hush. He pulled out his Ability Compendium and started flipping to the Electric section, only to wince at the price tags in his head. He'd have to ask Grandpa if an Electric mon was even feasible.
"Oh—and Water/Ground combos don't fear Water and they wall Electric," Reiji added. "They just hate Grass. Think of Chubbs's Wooper."
"Got it." Skinny jotted down "Water/Ground" and sank into study. Reiji enjoyed the quiet, leaned back under the stars… and dozed off.
"Reiji, almost eleven…" Skinny nudged him awake.
"Douse the fire—we'll head back." Reiji brushed off leaves and whistled the team over.
Just then Krabby scuttled up from the surf, chittering urgently.
"Krab-krab!"
"What is it?" Reiji couldn't parse the crab-speak.
"Yoh-boh!" Poliwhirl pointed toward the beach—someone's there.
"Let's take a look." Reiji recalled Rhyhorn and, with Poliwhirl, Krabby, and Skinny's two, followed the crab toward the shore.
The flashlight beam swept over the sand—and landed on a person in black, facedown. Reiji approached carefully and had the Pokémon roll the body over.
A large, blood-red R was stamped on the chest.
Reiji's gut clenched; he reflexively took two steps back. "No way… them."
Team Rocket—burned into memory: that shadowed boss stroking a Meowth-like cat, the emblem everyone knew. But what was a Rocket grunt doing on Kinnow Island? If they wanted something here, beyond the touristy surface the only real prize was the underground market.
"What's wrong, Reiji? Them? You know him?" Skinny was startled by Reiji's uncharacteristic reaction. The calm guy who barely flinched at life-and-death fights looked… rattled.
"You don't know this emblem?" Reiji caught himself and leveled out. Dead Rocket or not, it was still just a body.
Skinny shook his head, bewildered.
"Krabby, Poliwhirl—Water Gun. Wash the body out to sea." Reiji didn't explain. Whether the man was dead or not, he'd almost certainly be carrying a tracker. Leaving him here was an invitation. If Rocket traced him, found the training site, they'd tail them next.
He didn't even search the guy. One touch meant their scent would be on the corpse—traceable.
They blasted the body into the current. A land breeze pushed seaward tonight; the surf would carry it farther out. Still not enough. Reiji had Krabby and Poliwhirl cast Rain Dance together. A fine drizzle fell, scrubbing scents and footprints.
Only then did they leave the beach.
"Got questions? Ask your grandpa," Reiji said on the way back. "He'll know who that was. But keep it to yourself. Don't tell anyone."
"I understand." Skinny had never seen Reiji this serious. Grandpa would have answers—no need to press now.
"Also, I'm crashing at Grandpa's tonight. I'll ask him about buying an Electric mon," Skinny added.
"I'm turning in. See you tomorrow." Back at the villa, Reiji finally exhaled—half expecting a Rocket retrieval team to round the corner. He set out a late-night snack for the three who'd overtrained, left Spinarak on watch, and conked out on the couch.
With Team Rocket slinking in and a big tournament drawing crowds, the city was only going to get messier. Whatever their target—black market or otherwise—he wanted no part of it. When giants collide, small fry get pulped. He had a long life to live; dying young wasn't on the schedule.
[End of Chapter]
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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