On the fifteenth day of the journey, a light rain was falling.

Trovitopolis City. Reiji had finally made it here—the big, high-rise city on the western side of Mandarin Island.

After arriving, he didn’t rush to ask around about the black market. Instead, he rented a villa on the outskirts of the city.

This one cost ninety thousand Pokédollars, more expensive than villas in inland towns, but cheaper than the one in Kinnow City. Prices really were lower out here compared to Kinnow Island and Murcott Island, where everything felt a bit inflated.

He rented another villa mainly so he could train his Pokémon. If he took a three-bedroom apartment in the city, there’d be nowhere to train, and no way to let this many Pokémon out at once.

By the time he finished renting, it was already noon. After the team had lunch, training resumed for the afternoon.

As for the black market, that could wait until night. It was still drizzling outside—no telling if the rain would even stop by then.

He wasn’t idle that afternoon either. Reiji took the incubator out again, set it up in the living room, and plugged it in so it could keep feeding electricity to the Egg.

He had no idea how much more power the Egg needed. At this point he didn’t care anymore. If it hatched, great. If it didn’t, so be it.

Once the incubator was set, he sank into the living room sofa, stripped off his shirt, and unraveled the bandages around his torso. The wound on his back had fully healed after half a month.

Not just the wound on his back—the bite marks on his palm from that red-haired girl had healed too, leaving behind only a faint row of teeth marks.

She really had bitten down hard that time, drew blood and everything. Of course a mark would be left. And honestly, he’d had it coming for saying her chest was flat.

By evening, the drizzle still hadn’t let up. Reiji called a halt to training; dinner was already prepared and waiting for the team.

When night fell, he put on his full anti-stab outfit and then a raincoat over it, getting ready to head into Trovitopolis to dig up news on the black market and maybe earn some extra cash, while continuing his research into Gastly’s evolution.

Before leaving, he returned all his Pokémon to their balls. He wouldn’t feel at ease leaving them behind. The incubator charging in the living room was put away too; he’d plug it back in when he returned.

He had two backpacks. One of them he hid behind the curtains—that one was stuffed full of Rocky’s ore and didn’t need to come along.

He carried his main squad with him: Pelipper, Poliwhirl, Kingler, Scyther, Croagunk, Ditto, and Spinarak.

Right now, only those seven could fight. Pelipper was mostly transport; the real core for battles was still Poliwhirl, Kingler, and Scyther.

Ditto stayed on his face as hidden protection. Spinarak perched on his shoulder, keeping watch for sneak attacks. Croagunk came along at his side so they could build up their coordination. If Croagunk couldn’t handle things, then he’d send out Kingler and Poliwhirl.

From Murcott Island up to today, more than ten days had passed. Croagunk general progress was okay, but its physical stats still hadn’t caught up to the constant flow of deadly poison inside its body.

Even so, Croagunk’s body had improved a lot. It could now keep up a jog for two hours instead of crashing after ten minutes like in the beginning. Using it in battle was no problem anymore.

Especially that poison—this stuff was seriously nasty. Only Gastly could handle Croagunk’s toxin. All the venom and sweat Croagunk expelled went straight to Gastly.

Letting the others “try” was something Reiji never even considered. Wherever Croagunk jogged, the grass withered behind it. That alone showed how toxic its sweat was. Letting other Pokémon taste that poison? Not happening.

Even he kept antidotes on him at all times—ones formulated for humans—specifically to counter Croagunk’s poison.

Of course, the sweat and venom lost their punch after a day exposed to the air, so it wasn’t worth worrying about. As long as the grass’s roots weren’t killed, it would grow back.

After arranging everything he needed, Reiji had Ditto hop onto his face and switch his appearance in an instant. Spinarak climbed up onto his head and ducked under the raincoat. Then he pulled up the black face mask, flipped up the anti-stab hood and the raincoat hood.

Finally, he clipped his main Poké Balls onto the belt at his waist. A knife hung there too within easy reach. Once he dropped the front flap of the anti-stab vest, the balls and the knife were all hidden.

If a fight suddenly broke out, he’d still be relying on his Pokémon first. The knife was just a last-ditch self-defense option, and he doubted he’d need it.

Once he was ready, he climbed onto Pelipper and patted it beside the beak. Time to fly.

“Pelipper, let’s go. Head for the port.”

“Peliii!” Pelipper beat its wings and flew out into the rainy night, toward the docks of Trovitopolis.

Reiji planned to start at the port and ask around about the black market. If there were any black ships operating offshore, he’d hear it there.

After he left, a thief did sneak into the villa—but this thief wasn’t human. It was a Pokémon.

The same Darkrai that had set its eyes on Reiji back at the inland town’s villa had followed him here. When Reiji left, it slipped into the room, unzipped the backpack Reiji had left behind, and peered inside.

The pack was stuffed with rocks. Darkrai zipped it back up and drifted out into the rainy night again, continuing to trail Reiji. It wanted to see where he was going.

Reiji, landing at the port, had no idea he was being tailed. Being tracked by a Mythical Pokémon that excelled at hiding in the shadows was something a normal human like him couldn’t possibly detect as long as it chose not to show itself.

Once he recalled Pelipper to its ball, Reiji picked a random passerby and asked for directions to a bar near the docks. A place like that was the best bet to find people who knew about the black market.

Inside, he didn’t attract much attention. The people drinking here were either local regulars or masked strangers.

He clearly belonged to the second group. At the bar counter, he pulled out a ten-thousand Pokédollar note and slid it toward the young bartender.

The bartender assumed he wanted a drink and asked, “What can I get you, sir?”

“Where’s the black market?” Reiji crooked a finger, waited for the bartender to lean closer, and then said what he’d come here for.

“Which one are you looking for?” the bartender asked, immediately understanding that Reiji was paying for information. The ten-thousand tip was as good as pocketed.

“There are two?” Reiji blinked. He hadn’t expected more than one black market here.

“That’s right, sir. One’s down in the city sewers. It’s a mess down there—three underground gangs share control, and shoot-outs happen all the time. Their bosses are all at least quasi–Elite Four level.”

“The other’s on a ship offshore. That one’s relatively safe, but the ship’s position isn’t fixed. Only the sailors at the port know where it is. Pay them and they’ll take you out to the black ship.”

With the information he wanted, Reiji left the dockside bar. A black market in the sewers didn’t surprise him.

In his previous life, he’d seen this city’s sewers in the anime: a huge, complex drainage system. No idea why anyone needed sewers that big except to give criminals somewhere to hide.

There should also be a giant Bulbasaur hiding down there. A starter from at least twenty years ago.

Catching it? Yeah, no. If a Bulbasaur had managed to survive in the sewers for that long without getting captured by black market thugs, it obviously had its own ways to stay alive. And Reiji had no clue where it was hiding.

Anime was anime; reality was reality. You couldn’t take it at face value. A twenty-year-old Bulbasaur might not even still be around. If he ran into it, fine. If he didn’t, whatever.

For now, he had no plans to visit the sewer market. He wanted to check out the black ship first. It sounded safer, and it’d be easier to scout whether the black market there was suitable for making some side money.

He headed back out to the pier and picked a random ten-meter speedboat, calling up to the sailor on board, “Do you run to the black ship?”

“First time, little brother?” the sailor asked, eyeing him with interest.

“What’s wrong?” Reiji frowned. He wasn’t sure what trick they were trying to pull. Was there a problem with being a first-timer?

“We only take regulars. Someone like you, just walking up and asking that so directly—that’s rare.” The sailor exchanged a look with his partner, the two of them instantly on the same wavelength. “Ten thousand. Pay up and we’ll take you.”

“Fine. Ten thousand.” Reiji didn’t release any Pokémon and didn’t overthink it. He handed over the cash and stepped onto the speedboat.

The sailor at the helm quickly started the engine, then picked up a radio and spoke a string of coded phrases into it.

Reiji didn’t understand the code, but he could guess they were asking about the ship’s current position. He didn’t really care where the speedboat went, as long as it took him to the black ship.

What he didn’t know was that the two sailors in the wheelhouse had already started playing a different game.

“Boss, he’s green. You think we should…?”

“We’ll see. Take him a drink first.”

The speedboat came to a stop, and a bottle of juice was passed back to Reiji. He caught it, set it casually on the seat beside him, and never took a sip, letting it roll and wobble with the rocking of the boat.

“Boss, he’s cautious. Didn’t drink it.”

“It’s fine…”

The guy at the helm had been sitting there with the engine off for a while now.

Reiji had no idea what these two were stalling for. “Why’d you stop?” he called toward the wheelhouse.

“Sorry, just fixing the heading,” the helmsman replied with a smile, giving a half-hearted look at the chart before starting the engine again.

Reiji had thought they were about to make a move just now, but they’d held back. As the boat started up again, he noticed them toss something overboard into the sea. He couldn’t help wondering what.

The speedboat stopped a second time. The helmsman went back to fiddling with the map.

Then, right next to where Reiji sat by the gunwale, a massive set of jagged jaws burst up from the water, snapping toward his head, ready to bite it clean off.

“Spinarak, tie them up.”

Even when ambushed by Sharpedo, Reiji hadn’t been unprepared.

He ordered Spinarak to go for the humans first. Ditto’s Protect blocked the Sharpedo’s bite.

Then he grabbed two Poké Balls and sent out Kingler and Poliwhirl.

“Poliwhirl, help Spinarak. Kingler, grab that Sharpedo and knock it out.”

“Woop woop!” Poliwhirl sprinted for the wheelhouse and found Spinarak had already covered both sailors in sticky webs. Their hands, feet, mouths—and even their Poké Balls—were all bound.

As for Kingler, it had barely appeared before it clamped one huge claw around Sharpedo’s jaws and smashed it down onto the deck.

The impact shook the speedboat hard enough that Reiji felt it in his feet. He glanced down; luckily, the hull hadn’t cracked. Otherwise, this trip would be more trouble than profit.

Once he was sure Sharpedo was out cold, Reiji had Ditto hop back onto his face and restore his disguise. Then he stepped into the wheelhouse and looked down at the two sailors trussed up in web, Poké Balls still undrawn.

This was the first time they’d met a situation like this. In the past, the passengers’ heads always got bitten off in one go. This time, something invisible had blocked that bite.

“Spinarak, strip them,” Reiji said. He ignored their panicked, pleading eyes completely. If they’d known it would come to this, why pull this on him in the first place?

After Spinarak emptied their pockets and pouches, Reiji finally had it peel the web off their mouths and asked, “Want to live?”

“Yes, yes! Please let us go, we’ve got elderly parents and kids at home…”

“No problem. Where’s your money?” Reiji nodded like he agreed, first reeling them in to get their cash.

If they’d just taken him honestly to the black ship, he wouldn’t have bothered with all this. But no, they’d seen he was a rookie and tried to eat him alive.

“My money’s all in the drawer. There’s more in my bank card too. If you let us go, I’ll give you everything…”

“Spinarak, open the drawer. What are the PINs for your cards?” Reiji scooped up the two bank cards and slipped them into his pocket. He also saw loose bundles of Pokédollars in the drawer. So they hadn’t been fully honest earlier.

“PIN, the PIN…”

Both sailors hesitated. The PINs were their final bargaining chip. If they gave those up, who could guarantee Reiji would let them live?

“Forget it. You can just die, then. Spinarak, take care of them.” Reiji sighed and turned as if to leave the wheelhouse.

The two sailors panicked. They scrambled to talk over each other, blurting out the PINs in desperation.

“Don’t kill me! My PIN is three ones and three threes!”

“Don’t kill me either! Mine is six zeros… I’ve got more stashed under the driver’s seat too. Just lift the cushion and you’ll see it…”

Reiji glanced at the helmsman and saw his eyes dart toward the seat. So he’d been hiding money there. Real talent.

He wasn’t about to lift it himself. The last time he’d underestimated someone, he’d nearly paid for it with his life. He had zero faith in “bad guys” having any integrity at all.

“Spinarak, pull the cushion up with web.”

Thwip—

The moment Spinarak yanked the cushion up, a spring-loaded knife shot out and buried itself in the cabin ceiling.

Seeing the knife, Reiji knew it had never been that simple.

Anyone who survived in this line of work had a life-saving trick or two. Most of them were scheming bastards to the core.

You could never be too careful. Not ever.

[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep