Leaving the black market.
Natsuhiko only had 100,000 Alliance coins left on him.
Apart from buying two tool-type Pokémon, he also bought quite a bit of Pokémon food, such as Advanced Energy Blocks, MooMoo Milk, and other essential items for nurturing Pokémon.
Of course, aside from these, books have always been what he's enthusiastic about.
In the black market, there are plenty of Pokémon knowledge books or notes and handbook copies that are banned or not encouraged by the Alliance, and he basically wouldn't pass up on any of them.
Lastly, some basic communication equipment, similar to mobile phones.
This trip to the black market didn't encounter any incidents, nor was he targeted by vendors.
Perhaps it was because his scent was too strong, or maybe he hadn't fully transitioned back from a wilderness survival state, giving off a forbidding, cold aura, so others thought he wasn't an easy target to mess with, and without assurance, they didn't make a move.
All in all, when he walked out from the internal passage of 115 Kelsa Street, he didn't encounter any situations.
However, when he arrived at the shop on 115 Kelsa Street, he saw the elderly guard at the door chatting with someone.
At a glance.
When he saw the person talking with the old man, he was slightly surprised.
It wasn't because Natsuhiko knew this person, but because of his attire and demeanor.
Wearing a rather disheveled gray monk robe, with an orange package slung at his waist, a large Buddha bead necklace around his neck, and fiddling with a small wooden Buddha bead in his hand, his head was bald.
From this outfit, it was easy to see that the person was a monk.
The young monk, about seventeen or eighteen, had a rosy face, smiling so that his eyes squinted into a line, and his large earlobes swayed as he shook his head.
From a distance, a faint scent of alcohol could be vaguely smelled.
His voice was very gentle when he spoke, with a unique tone and timbre.
Drinking Monk?
"This string of Buddha beads of mine from the Bell Tower is a treasure, made from materials blessed by the Holy Fire of the Divine Beast Phoenix King, and I'm selling it for five hundred bucks; it's really very cheap." The young monk tried hard to sell the Buddha beads in his hand, with a look that said he wouldn't leave if one didn't buy.
The old man was also stubborn, insisting that he wouldn't buy.
"Ha, Divine Beast Phoenix King? I could say my shoes were blessed by Sea God Lugia, do you want them? I'll sell them to you for 400!"
"A monk does not lie; what I said is true. How can your filthy shoes be comparable?"
The young monk wasn't angry, always maintaining a smiling demeanor.
"A monk? A monk wouldn't be as drunk as you." The old man's beard almost puffed up in anger.
He had been wrangling with this young monk for almost half an hour, yet he couldn't drive him away.
"You don't understand, this wine, it's three parts sorrow and seven parts bitterness; the monk isn't drinking wine, but the suffering of this world." The young monk said solemnly.
The expressionless Natsuhiko, who just passed by, couldn't help but stop his steps when he heard the young monk say "three parts sorrow, seven parts bitterness."
This young monk, quite Zen-like.
But the old man clearly wasn't buying it, blowing his beard and glaring, "Then tell me, what are you going to do with the money from selling these Buddha beads?"
The young monk clasped his palms together and raised a Buddhist salute in front of him.
"To taste more of the world's suffering."
Old man: "...."
Natsuhiko: "...."
Natsuhiko shook his head with a slight self-deprecating smile and left in large strides.
So, after saying so much, it boils down to selling Buddha beads to get money to buy wine because he's broke, huh?
He might have thought too highly... Natsuhiko secretly criticized in his heart.
After Natsuhiko left, the young monk suddenly stopped his babbling, slowly turned his head, and slightly opened his squinting eyes to look in the direction Natsuhiko had left, a glint in his pure, bright eyes, along with a trace of doubt.
"Hey, young monk, what are you looking at?" The old man, halfway through his argument, found the monk distracted and couldn't help but shout.
"Oh, nothing. The monk just thought that person... stinks."
Courteous Natsuhiko: You?
...
...
After leaving the black market, Natsuhiko didn't walk but instead hailed a taxi.
Destination, Silver Pokémon Battle Club!
Everything started there; Tom Rokicki must have left by now, but there would definitely be some clues left behind.
Natsuhiko's thinking was simple.
Revenge must be sought, if I can't beat him now, I'll wait until I gain enough strength to strike back.
Being toyed with like an idiot by Tom Rokicki for so long, he certainly didn't pathologically think that the opponent's strength was too overwhelming, so he should just submit.
That's not reasonable; that's a masochist.
After appeasing the taxi driver's complaints with double fare, he arrived once more at the Silver Pokémon Battle Club.
The interiors had been restored to their original state, seemingly unaffected by Lotto's previous mess, even the enormous fish tank in the corner was refitted, and the Water-type Pokémon inside frolicked under dazzling daylight-bright lights.
Ignoring the strange looks cast by people passing by him, he strode to the front desk.
Stopping a step away from the desk.
The glint beneath his messy bangs flickered, the shadows cast by the Anai, or rather, Tom Rokicki incident had yet to dissipate completely.
The receptionist had changed — her figure was equally tall and graceful, and her demeanor just as professional, but she still wasn't the same.
Busy Zhenzi hadn't looked up at the visitor yet, but first caught a whiff of an acrid stench and couldn't help but wrinkle her brow.
When she looked up and saw Natsuhiko standing before her, professionalism still led her to smooth her furrowed brow, showing a professional smile, though the disgust in her eyes couldn't quite be hidden.
"Sir, you are...."
Natsuhiko took out a card and placed it on the counter without a word.
When Zhenzi saw this card, representing the club's Intermediate Trainer ID, she couldn't quite mask her surprise.
"Please wait a moment."
With a "beep," some of Natsuhiko's basic information appeared on the computer screen.
"Natsuhiko..." Zhenzi muttered the name quietly to herself, realizing the vast discrepancy between how Natsuhiko looked in the information photo and his current appearance.
Scrolling to the end, when she saw his registered Pokémon was Weedle, she understood.
With an apologetic expression, she handed the card back across the counter with both hands, "Sorry, sir, because you've been gone for a month, the club has already supplemented a new Weedle Trainer as the Intermediate Trainer, so...."
Natsuhiko had been missing for a month.
Of course, the Silver Pokémon Battle Club couldn't leave that position vacant all the time.
Natsuhiko wasn't surprised about this.
He nodded and said: "That's fine, but I remember the club had a rule stating that when a Trainer leaves due to evolving a Pokémon or other unavoidable circumstances, the Trainer has the chance to challenge another Trainer, and the winner keeps the spot."
"That's correct." Zhenzi nodded in response.
This way, she understood what Natsuhiko meant.
"So, do you want to challenge the Kakuna Trainer, or stick with Weedle?"
To keep the job, when one Pokémon evolves, another is picked for the work.
It happens quite often.
"No." Natsuhiko shook his head.
"Then it's..."
Natsuhiko's eyes sparkled.
"Beedrill."
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Bringing you the third update! I'm off to write the fourth one——