“Got it, boss.” The two goons had seen Reiji’s battles before; they knew that Poliwhirl was a monster. Even if the two of them ganged up, they still didn’t have the confidence to beat it. All they could do was stall and buy their boss some time.

“Go, Beedrill! Go, Weepinbell!”

“Go, Beedrill! Go, Weepinbell!”

The two underlings sent out the exact same pairing as the boss—two of the easiest forest Pokémon to catch.

Facing two Beedrill and two Weepinbell, Poliwhirl surged forward on Waterfall, then drove an Ice Punch straight through both Weepinbell, dropping them cold in a single exchange.

Seeing their Pokémon crumple before they could even take a hit, the two flunkies gulped in unison and shouted the same order: “Beedrill, carry us out of the alley!”

As if Reiji would leave an escape that obvious…

The two Beedrill had barely lifted off when they slammed into a white sheet of webbing. It had been too dim to notice earlier, but now that they were trying to flee, they finally saw the alley’s mouth veiled in spider silk.

The instant the Beedrill touched the web, they were glued fast. The more they thrashed, the tighter the white strands cinched. Both Beedrill were forced to fling their passengers off their legs.

Spinarak bounded in, trussing the trapped Beedrill into neat little balls.

The two drunken thugs who’d hit the ground were each treated to a single, tidy punch from Poliwhirl—out like lights. Spinarak hopped back down and wrapped them up.

With the small fry handled, Poliwhirl turned toward the only one left—the boss—and charged again.

By the time the boss realized his two lackeys were already out and that the air above was webbed, he knew he wasn’t getting out of this. He hadn’t even fully solved Skinny’s Poliwhirl—how was he supposed to carve a path to escape now?

He’d overestimated himself, and his lackeys—and, worse, underestimated Reiji and Skinny.

He split his attention: let Pinsir keep slugging it out with Skinny’s ferocious Poliwhirl, while Beedrill and Weepinbell tried to intercept the incoming Poliwhirl.

One clash. That’s all it took. Both blockers were swatted into the wall and knocked out, and Spinarak was already behind them, wrapping Beedrill and Weepinbell into two more tidy bundles.

At that point, Poliwhirl’s work was done.

“Poliwhirl, leave the Pinsir to Skinny—he can finish it. You keep an eye on the boss. Don’t let him run.”

Then Reiji called out, “Spinarak, empty their pockets.”

“Rree-tok!” Spinarak had watched Reiji loot enough times to learn the trick. It crawled over the two tied-up drunks and patted them down from head to toe.

Wallets, money, ID cards, lighters, cigarettes, trinkets, necklaces, watches, a folding knife, a keychain, sunglasses, Poké Balls…

A whole pile of junk. Reiji glanced over it—nothing worth real money.

He crouched, sorted briefly, and only took the money and the IDs. The take was five thousand total. two broke losers.

No wonder their Pokémon were so lousy. With that kind of “investment,” how strong could they be?

He pocketed the bills, then scooped up their Poké Balls and recalled both Weepinbell. They weren’t worth much—maybe a few tens of thousands each, and that’s if you could even find a buyer.

Unlike Breloom, Weepinbell just doesn’t move. Not a final-stage Victreebel, not a fresh, untrained hatchling—once a trainer’s handled it, the value nosedives.

And those two Beedrill? Please. You couldn’t give them away.

By the time he’d finished with the five thousand and the Weepinbell, Skinny had wrapped things up on his side, too. With Spinarak’s help, Pinsir and the boss were bundled like the others.

Skinny recalled the boss’s Pinsir—that bug actually had some value, probably the highest among the bunch. He also recalled the boss’s Weepinbell and tossed that Ball to Reiji—since Reiji’s Poliwhirl had flattened it, the spoils belonged to him.

They found just over ten thousand on the boss; Skinny kept that.

Aside from that, nothing worth touching—no cubes, not even basic supplements. Jewelry and watches and the like, Skinny left alone; Reiji hadn’t bothered with them either.

He did pick up the ID and passed it to Reiji. Looting done.

Skinny’s haul: a bit over ten thousand and one Pinsir.

Reiji’s haul: five thousand and three Weepinbell.

That left three Beedrill and three drunks. Skinny shot Reiji a look: how do we handle these?

“Spinarak, dose the three with venom—paralyze them. Then dump them in the ocean.”

Skinny didn’t object; he and Poliwhirl started hauling. Reiji loaded up with Poliwhirl as well. The sea was close. In short order, all three thugs splashed into the water. Paralyzed, they couldn’t even flail—soon swallowed by the tide.

The webbing would dissolve in seawater. With the stink of alcohol on them, it would read like three drunks who stumbled and fell in.

Back in the alley, Reiji had Spinarak release the bound Beedrill. Then, right in front of the three bugs, he stomped every last one of their Poké Balls flat. The message wasn’t hard to read.

The Beedrill stared with those crimson compound eyes. After a beat, they glanced at one another, then lifted and buzzed out of the alley without a word.

When they were gone, Reiji told Spinarak to clear the webs. He and Skinny left the alley and walked back toward the water.

Reiji took the three IDs and hurled them as far out into the waves as he could.

As for the random junk left in the alley—some passerby would pick it clean. A port is always a mixed crowd. Whoever took it didn’t matter, and it would help sell the story that the three drunks got rolled before they drowned.

He’d removed the men but spared the Beedrill for a simple reason: Beedrill couldn’t talk.

If he’d let the men go, they would’ve retaliated in the dark and spread word about the fixed fights, drawing even bigger trouble. Better to end it cleanly.

And it wasn’t just those three. The masked bagman who’d sicced them on him needed dealing with, too.

The guy had broken the deal first—he didn’t get to complain about a blade in the dark.

After tossing the IDs, Reiji stared out at the darkening sea and, without looking at Skinny, asked, “Second time. How’s it feel?”

“Fine. Not as shaky as the first. Didn’t think they’d be this trash,” Skinny said. He’d read the note—these weren’t good people.

If their roles were reversed and he hesitated, it would be his Pokémon bleeding and his body in the bay. Mercy that gets you killed is just stupidity.

“The hassle isn’t over,” Reiji said. “The masked courier stirred them up to come after us. We’ll need to deal with him, too.”

“Right now?” Skinny asked. He could feel himself getting calmer, even a little keyed up.

That old human wiring—the taste for violence—was waking up.

As for Reiji…

He felt fine. He knew exactly what he was doing, what he wanted, and where the line was. After a lifetime of swallowing it down, this world finally let him act without flinching. The first time he took out those poachers, he’d felt no softness—and no guilt.

“No rush. I want to check the black market. You coming?” Reiji wasn’t going to jump the masked man tonight. He knew nothing concrete yet. If he moved, he’d move knowing.

The old man could dig. If he could send a warning early, he probably knew who the courier was.

“The black market? I’ve never been,” Skinny admitted, curiosity flaring. His grandpa never let him near the place. Tonight, with Reiji, why not take a look? And there was the Pinsir in his hand—what could it fetch? “Reiji, what’s Pinsir worth?”

“A million or two. Let your grandpa handle the sale. First we’ll swing by his tavern,” Reiji said, catching the glint in Skinny’s eyes. He turned back into a side alley. From there, Skinny could lead the way.

Pinsir would move better than a Weepinbell, but selling Pokémon wasn’t tonight’s goal. He wanted to see whether the black market was still operating—and whether Team Rocket had taken it over.

They’d already taken care of three drunks; they might as well check in. If the chance came up, unloading three Weepinbell wouldn’t hurt.

Before long, they reached the old man’s tavern. It hadn’t opened in ages; dust coated the bar and every chair.

They slipped in the back. A wooden hatch led down to a tunnel straight to the market. It was already unlocked. They stopped at the threshold.

Always assume an ambush at an exit. Reiji checked himself over first: all black, twin packs, a black digital on his wrist, mask and hood—identity tight. He unclipped any dangling tags.

Then he looked at Skinny… and sighed. Shorts, a light top, white sneakers. Walking bullseye.

He pulled out a black anti-stab jacket and shoved it at him. “Suit up. You hide your face down there.”

“I’ve got one,” Skinny said, producing a black set nearly identical to Reiji’s from his pack—just a size smaller. Mask up, hood on—Reiji junior.

He’d bought it on the sly after noticing how often Reiji wore black—just hadn’t had a chance to use it.

“Next time, go with anti-stab. Have your grandpa get you a few sets,” Reiji said, assuming the old man had picked the gear and not thinking further.

They were about to step in when he noticed Poliwhirl already padding forward. He recalled it.

“Don’t bring Pokémon down there?” Skinny asked, pausing with his own Ball.

“It’s not that. Spinarak, scout.” Reiji sent Spinarak down first. Once it vanished into the tunnel, he added, “The point is: the partners we use openly—Poliwhirl, Kingler, Rhyhorn—if we use them in the market too, people will connect the dots.”

“Especially our Poliwhirl,” he went on. “That burst combo—no one else’s looks like that. One glance and they’ll know it’s us.”

“Got it,” Skinny said, recalling his Poliwhirl too. He glanced into the dark. Spinarak was already ahead. “So we don’t use our ‘public’ team in the market. That way our identities—and our Pokémon—don’t get pinned.”

“Exactly,” Reiji nodded.

“No wonder you rarely let Spinarak show up topside… You’re planning to run Spinarak down there, right?” Skinny guessed, looking into the black throat of the tunnel.

“That’s one way to see it. And after what just happened, keep Poliwhirl out of sight for jobs like that. Swap identities—or leave no witnesses.”

“I understand,” Skinny said. He drew his mask up, set his hood, and steadied his breathing. It clicked for him now—ten Pokémon because Reiji was running two faces.

Poliwhirl, Kingler, Rhyhorn for daylight. Spinarak for the other life.

He’d need two rosters, too. Poliwhirl, Wingull, Breloom, Elekid in the open.

And a second set for the shadows—none ready yet. He’d have to pick them carefully.

Otherwise, jobs like tonight would stay messy. Let one enemy slip and headaches multiply.

And about picking partners… he could ask Reiji for capture and training advice.

[End of Chapter]

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep