That night, Zane Hawkes found time to call Ethan. Ethan ran him through the highlights—eighteen-for-eighteen and the final reward—earning a full-on gasp from Zane.
When Ethan mentioned the vice–team lead from the Psychic Research faculty targeting him—and how the school handled it—Zane's tone hardened. He told Ethan not to stress it; he'd have his family keep an eye on things and lean on the school from the side. Ethan, not eager to "poke the snake" himself, didn't refuse.
They were about to queue for a game when Zane remembered he had errands and hung up in a rush.
—
Next morning, Lana swung by Ethan's place—not to drag him to drills, but to say goodbye.
"you're really not teaming with me? Missions go twice as fast if we duo," she tried.
"Later. I've got irons in the fire. I'll come find you."
"And stick to Granite City jobs if you can—we don't know when the Starter pick day will drop," he added.
"Got it. Bye, Brother Sheng."
She trundled off with a small suitcase. Watching her go, Ethan sighed. No one had it easy. If not for that million, he'd be mission-grinding already.
The League did backstop poorer trainers. The Association's day-mission desk fed level-10–30 teams well enough: drive off a wild mon, earn ¥20–50k; with Persian and Zoroark on her roster, Lana could also take premium "haunted nuisance" captures for bigger bounties. At this stage, you could cover living costs. Nothing to mope about.
Ethan shook it off, hauled out a big cardboard sheet and a marker, and lettered: "Antiques Collected"—subheads: Old Coins, Porcelain Bottles, Jewelry, etc. He taped on a stick, slung it over his shoulder, and headed out with Houndour. Abra had already heard there'd be no training and promptly went back to sleep.
First stop for Ancient Energy? Home turf.
He set up in the village square shade, propped the sign, and waited for fish—er, neighbors. He wasn't out to fleece his own folks. Old coins? The market didn't want them; he'd pay ¥20 each, cash on the nail. Older pieces he'd price case by case, explain what he knew, and let the owner decide. His parents had to live here; he wouldn't stain their name. Other villages later? Different calculus.
Word spread fast. People trickled over with strings of copper cash. He counted, transferred ¥20 per coin. They told the next household; the trickle became a stream.
A few brought curios—rusted bronze mirrors, old hairpins. Then Grandpa Zhang shuffled up with a chipped jade pig-dragon missing part of its tail.
The birthmark on Ethan's wrist flared hot.
"Sheng, I've no use for it. No one to pass it to. Take it, so it doesn't go into the ground with me."
"Grandpa Zhang, I can't. We should turn this in. My friend wouldn't dare sell it."
The old man waved him off, dropped the jade in Ethan's hands, and walked away on his cane.
"Just take it. If you don't tell, I don't tell—who knows? Money's a good thing. You need it more than us mud-stompers. We'll all back you. It's rare for our village to raise a trainer—go win us a name."
His steps were slow but steady; the words hung warm in the air. Everyone knew the old man's past was a little mysterious; most guessed he'd been a trainer once. Never married, lived simply, helped with stray mons—respected by all.
Ethan clutched the hot jade, wrist burning, chest hotter.Okay. I'll make our village a name the world learns to say.
He kept buying till evening. By then nearly every house had sold something. He carted the haul home with Houndour pushing at the handle.
At home, he briefed his parents on the "weird business." Once again, Zane Hawkes took the blame—the "antique boss," with Ethan just a runner. If Zane ever visited, he'd find he'd become a local legend without trying.
That night, Ethan tallied:
Old coins: 892 pieces, mostly late-dynasty copper. Each worth about 2 Ancient Energy—1,784 AE total. Nice—two strong TMs' worth.
Bronze mirrors/pins, broken porcelain, clay pots: another 100 AE.
The damaged jade pig-dragon: ancient, leader-grade artifact. The system didn't price it by age—it dumped 3,000 AE into his pool.
Total haul: 4,884 AE. His balance finally cracked 10,000. The Mega Stones were… closer.
Then he checked prices and wilted:
Houndoomite: 20,000 AE
Alakazite: 20,000 AE
A long way off.
He shelved the AE grind for a bit and opened the day's packages.
First: Houndour's fancy notebook. He'd be copying yesterday's training plan so the little diva wouldn't pout. Houndour beamed, shook Abra awake just to flex the cover. Ethan couldn't help but grin. Healed by dog.
Second: the heavy Telekinesis training balls—polished, fist-sized, ¥50,000 each. Abra floated over, plucked one in its hand and one with telekinesis, sent a telepathic thanks, and drifted back to bed to lift and hold.
Third: the berry shipment. Time to christen the Energy Cube machine.
He washed and chopped fruit, swapped Starf and Mago (Star Peach & Wood in local parlance) from [Exchange], and loaded the cup. During testing he'd let both mons taste mixes.
Surprise: Houndour likes sour. No wonder it went full lemon when it saw Abra's notebook.Houndour: (ー`́ー) kid, your household is over.
Abra liked bitter, Golden Pillow–style—said bitterness "wakes the mind."
He built Houndour's batch first. Fruit in, lid down, button pressed.
The machine roared. Thirty minutes later it coughed out steaming 2-cm yellow-green cubes, the room flooding with fruit aroma.
Houndour crept forward, tail wagging. Ethan pinched two cubes and was about to toss—Abra stopped him, snagging one mid-air.
"Give it one. Not two. There's something off about this new thing you're making."