"Nolan is Lt. Surge's nephew. They say he's a proud sort, and Wilder had an eye for people; I've heard nothing of any quarrel between them, so he can be passed over. This Vance, now — he's from Celadon City, which is to say he has nobody behind him, a new man who has only just joined Team Rocket."
Grady's eyes were full of calculation. Instinct told him this Vance very likely had something to do with Wilder's death.
The thing was odd in itself. How could a Trainer with nothing but a Magikarp have survived on Trial Island, in conditions as harsh as that? And taken the top place besides?
"Even if he had nothing to do with it, he can still be put to the question. There may be something in it." Grady narrowed his eyes, full of scheming, and muttered it to himself.
Either way he lost nothing. If the man was involved, he would not be gentle; and if he was not, he could still be forced to say how he had managed such a showing, which might well prove useful.
As to whether there would be trouble afterwards, Grady never gave it a thought.
The way he saw it, even if Vance had some talent, by now he would be an Advanced Trainer at the very most — surely somebody he could handle as he pleased?
Besides, the man might well be connected with Wilder's death; and even if he was not, there was still the question of how he had survived on a single Magikarp and come away the winner. Was there some piece of good fortune behind it? If there was, he could take it along the way.
And this one was not like Cerise or Nolan, with people behind him in the organisation and enormous gifts of his own.
Questioning Vance, Grady thought, would be easy enough; and if he took the same attitude Cerise had, he would not be nearly so polite. There were plenty of ways of making him talk, and no risk to follow.
"Posted in Celadon City. That's not far. I can find a time to go over."
Grady had set his heart on this business; he had already gathered what he needed on everyone he suspected.
With the connections he had built up over years in Team Rocket, tracing where a batch of recruits had gone was no trouble at all.
"You, then."
Grady put his things away and walked out.
There were only so many ways to die on Trial Island.
The chief one was to be killed by a person; the other was to be killed by the Pokémon of the island.
Grady suspected only the first. As for the second, he did not believe Wilder could have died at a Pokémon's hands — he had given Wilder his own Rhydon.
With an Elite-class Rhydon there, what could possibly have gone wrong?
And then, Grady knew his nephew: overbearing and petty, but not without a head on him. With a Rhydon at his side there was simply no chance of his dying to a Pokémon.
Not even with those experimental Pokémon about.
So it could only have been at a person's hands.
"And if nothing comes of it, then the few of you will go into the grave with my nephew."
Grady said it darkly. The "you" he meant were all people who had a grudge with Wilder — and, what mattered, all of ordinary origins, with nobody behind them, so that even if he moved against them nothing would follow.
Grady was a vicious man and did not care whether he killed the wrong person; the grudge alone was reason enough.
His nephew was dead, the investigation had turned up nothing, and the people who had quarrelled with him were still alive. Grady would not rest easy unless he sent them along with him.
It might offend a few people, but that no longer mattered.
...............
"34 Battle Points awarded."
Vance, still out in the wild on his "hunt", had just finished another fight. The system showed 8,012 points — enough now to exchange for a Key Stone.
To put together those 8,000 Battle Points he and his Pokémon had spent another eight days in the wild.
Apart from Trial Island, this was the longest he had ever spent out in the wild — close to half a month by now.
"Saved up at last."
Vance said it happily. Battle Points aside, after so many days of hard fighting the Pokémon had each gained something.
The Combusken had reached level 33, the Aerodactyl 43, the Gyarados 45, the Slaking 45 as well, and the Deino 43.
After a spell of grinding away at it, the Gyarados had finally caught the Slaking up and come level with him at 45.
Most of the Elite opponents they had met over these days had been taken by the Gyarados; with no Gym-class opponents to be had, the Slaking had lain about slacking the whole time, too idle to lift a hand.
The Gyarados had seized the chance to leap ahead, and had at last drawn level with the Slaking.
The Gyarados had made his peace with things, true enough, but catching the Slaking up still pleased him, and for days now that fierce face of his had looked a great deal friendlier.
Vance chose to make the exchange, and the next moment a Key Stone was in his hand — many-coloured, with a spiral pattern worked on it.
Holding it, Vance could feel that there was a power hidden inside the Key Stone.
Mega Evolution is one use of life energy: with the human and the Pokémon in a state of bonding, that power is let out, and a leap is made from one order of life to the next.
"A Key Stone. Mega Evolution hasn't come out into the world at this point — the research may exist only on paper. There are several years yet before Mega Evolution appears, and for the moment I'm the only person who knows of it."
That was the advantage Vance had as a transmigrator: he knew something of what was coming, and he knew that Mega Evolution existed.
"Perhaps I can turn a profit from it. Before Mega Evolution appears I could stockpile Mega Stones and Key Stones — there's no small gain in that, whether for winning people over or for trade, for dealing in resources. It's an excellent line either way."
Vance held his chin and thought it over, and some ideas began to take shape.
That could wait, though. What mattered most now was raising his Pokémon's strength and his own. Only with real strength could he take more for himself; otherwise he would not be able to hold on to his good fortune.
That night, on a quiet, open stretch of grass, Vance was saying something to the Gyarados.
"Gyarados, that 'fate' I spoke of before — this is it."
Vance brought out the Gyarados's Mega Stone and handed it over to him.
"Roar, roar—"
The moment the Gyarados touched the Mega Stone he felt a strange power inside it, and his body seemed to crave that power as well, telling him to take what was in there — that it could make him stronger, could carry him up to another order of life.
"Boss, this is..."
With his body behaving so strangely, the Gyarados asked Vance at once.
"Don't worry. It's a good thing. You'll see in a moment."
Vance answered, telling the Gyarados he would know shortly.
"Roar—"
The Gyarados nodded. He knew his Trainer would not do him harm, and did as he was asked and stood in front of Vance.
The Key Stone in Vance's hand and the Mega Stone the Gyarados carried answered one another at once, giving off light, flickering on and off.
Something stirred in the Gyarados; he met Vance's eyes, and everything they had come through rose up before him.
Their first meeting, in a dim passage, when a boy let him out. Most people looked at him with instant distaste; that boy had not. After a brief moment of surprise he had taken him in with a smile all over his face, and told him his name — Vance.
And said, "From now on I'm your Trainer."
All the Magikarp knew then was that the boy in front of him was friendly and meant him no harm, that he called himself his Trainer, and that he would help him train properly and become a Gyarados as soon as could be.
And the boy had been as good as his word. That evening, by lamplight, he drew up a training plan, and the next day he began taking him through it. While they trained, he felt the mockery and the sneers of the humans around them.
But the boy went on treating him with great kindness, trained him just the same, and made sure he had plenty of food, never stinting him. Those were the fullest meals he had ever eaten; he had never known anything like them.
Seeing how fast he ate, the boy had stood by watching and said with a smile, "No need to hurry. It's all yours," and things of that sort. That was the first time anyone had ever cared for him, and the Magikarp had no words for how it felt; he only knew that he had to work hard, and not fail this boy.
He would make every last one of the people who laughed at the boy hold their tongues.