After the sea breeze, Grey headed back into the ship.
On the way, he just so happened to run into that bandage-wrapped sailor.
Flanked by a knot of underlings, the man noticed Grey and every eye slid his way.
Grey gave them a single glance and strode past without breaking step.
Once Grey was out of sight—
"Boss, that guy looks like the trainer who cruised to a ten-win streak."
One underling held up a tablet with the feed cued to the bandaged sailor.
"First that Grey, then another guy running a Blaziken—are strong Fighting-type trainers growing on trees lately?"
The bandaged sailor rubbed at the ache between his brows and told the grunt beside him:
"Forget that one for now. Send more people to sweep for Grey. I don't buy that he can stay hidden forever."
"Yes, sir!"
The grunt hustled off.
"Why obsess over a newly minted Gym Leader? Maybe pay more attention to the one who just walked by."
Another sailor drifted over, face dark, suspicion flickering between his brows.
Compared to Grey, he was more curious about the man who'd just passed—who was he?
"A Blaziken user… a rising star from Hoenn, maybe? But why come to Kanto?"
He turned it over in his head, weighing pros and cons.
Focus the hunt on Grey—or try to recruit that Blaziken trainer?
"The one just now is probably a Devon Corp VIP."
The bandaged sailor shook his head. "And that 'nobody' Gym Leader came alone. All he's got worth watching is a Primeape. I say he's holding a card up his sleeve. Pinning down where he is still matters."
"No need to worry too much," the other sailor said, eyes dropping to the deck. "We've got them."
"Right. Add our… relationship on top of that, and we can catch them flat-footed."
The bandaged sailor's mouth twisted into a cruel smile.
He limped away, lost in his own plans.
The underling frowned and lifted his radio. "Prep the first 'surprise.' Make your safeties tight."
"Let's hope our VIPs enjoy the gift."
…
"Bro, you're back from your breeze?"
Green spotted Grey at once and waved him over.
"Mm. Took in a bit of wind. Feeling better," Grey said, spearing a slice of matsutake and popping it into his mouth.
The flavor was on point—appetite stoked.
For a moment, he couldn't stop.
When he swallowed the last slice, Green leaned in and lowered her voice. "They've been staring at you from over there since a minute ago. Team Rocket."
"Yeah."
Grey kept his face blank, set the plate back into Green's hands. "Looks like they're getting impatient."
"How's your side?"
She hooked an arm through his as she asked.
"Manageable. But we can't cover everything."
Time was short and hands were few.
Taking down an Executive wasn't the issue. Protecting civilians was.
Leave out the freeloaders; among the paying passengers on the S.S. Anne, most were corporate types.
Their Pokémon might be rare, but their bite? Middling.
Not a match for Rocket, who lived on the knife's edge.
As for the freeloading trainers—most were newbies.
In that crowd, Ash and Gary counted as the strong ones.
"Want me to help?" Green blinked and kept her voice low.
"Let's talk back in the room," Grey said. "Plan first."
"Okay."
They turned toward the cabins.
…
"Honored guests, you can't return to your rooms just yet."
Sailors guarding the guest corridor blocked their way.
"Mm?"
Grey narrowed his eyes at the man. "I've got a VIP ticket. You telling me I don't even have the right to go back to my room?"
Trying to lean on the title, he watched the sailor snort and pull a Poké Ball.
"So you are a VIP. But still—"
"Ralu!"
Before he finished, Ralts' palm flared with dark energy; the black-lit hand met his cheek.
Smack!
The Poké Ball clattered across the floor. Grey hooked an arm and flipped the sailor clean over his shoulder, slamming him down.
"Talk too much."
He dusted his hands and started to lead Green on—
Every door along the hall swung open.
A tide of R-uniformed Rockets stepped out.
Grins sharp, they drifted closer.
"Hand over your Pokémon, or—"
"Flamethrower."
The mouthy one didn't even finish before Grey had Blaziken out and firing.
"Chah!"
Blaziken didn't pull punches. Its jaws opened; a lance of searing fire scythed across the hall.
These door-lurker grunts were weak. One pass from Blaziken and most were nearly down.
"That many Rockets?"
Back to back with Grey, Green scanned the streams converging toward the main hall and sent out Wartortle.
"Room route's a bust. Link up with Ash and Gary first," Grey said, turning as Blaziken cleared the path.
Whump!
A wave of flame rolled forward. Plenty of Rockets didn't even react before Blaziken punted them aside into the kind of peaceful sleep babies dream about.
Grey and Green jogged on. The grunts they met got stronger—but Blaziken still put them down in a few moves.
Main hall.
Socialites and matrons sobbed; corporate whales swallowed their anger.
"Hey! Do you know who I am?!"
A suit-stuffed, middle-aged man stepped out from the crowd.
He glared ahead so hard his belly wobbled.
"Meow!"
He threw a ball—out sprang a sleek big cat with a red gem in its forehead. He tried to stand against Rocket with it.
The crowd's hope flared at once—cheers rang out.
Some even stepped up beside him!
Thump, thump, thump!
Poké Balls hit the floor in a chain. More Pokémon filled the hall.
Farfetch'd, Drowzee, Eevee…
Mostly showpieces.
Not built for a brawl.
Seeing the lineup, the watching Rockets howled with laughter.
"What a haul of bottom-feeders. Time to show you what real trainers look like!"
Thump, thump, thump!
Another volley of throws.
A dozen-plus Arbok uncoiled, their menacing hood patterns flaring at the crowd's Pokémon—half of them bolted on instinct…
The hope that had just ignited snuffed out at once.
"As a reward for your courage, have a taste of Arbok venom~"
The squad lead smiled.
On cue, the Arbok raised their heads; throats swelled with a lethal brew.
A deep violet glow spread; a rank stench rolled out.
Fear and sorrow surged through the crowd. Cries and screams overlapped—
"Well now. Looks like we've netted a big fish here."
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