He had always been an extremely cautious person. Even without a corpse lying here as a warning, he would still face everything with the utmost care.

The scene before his eyes only convinced him further that this was no ordinary den of chaos, but a lawless zone where you could lose your life at any moment.

“Gwa-gwa, gwa-gwa.”

Croagunk croaked a question, as if asking whether they really had to keep going. The danger deeper inside was obvious.

“Of course we’re going. If it weren’t dangerous, why would we even come here?” Reiji’s goal on this trip was to fish in muddy waters. If he didn’t head into the depths, how was he supposed to pull that off?

Unless it was absolutely necessary, he didn’t want to touch wild Pokémon. Back when he was surviving on that deserted island, he’d had no choice but to hunt Pokémon for food. In that environment, if he didn’t eat, he would starve.

If someone had come to rescue him, he wouldn’t have had to do that. But no one ever came. No one even knew he was on that island.

On every rainy night back then, he dreamed of returning to human society. Yet every time he woke up at dawn, he was still in that cramped tree hollow, forced to face another day of survival.

Now he was on Mandarin Island. If he poached wild Pokémon here and the League found out, he’d be hunted down relentlessly and might even be branded a wanted poacher.

If it came to that, he’d never wash that stain off. He’d be dirty for good.

Black-on-black, though, was different. This was already a chaotic zone where Pokémon got stolen all the time.

Most of the people involved were wanted criminals drifting around the black market, or undocumented ghosts with no legal identity. Their greed often made them targets themselves.

If you couldn’t control your greed, then of course people would come for you. If they didn’t rob you, who were they supposed to rob? If you didn’t want to get hit, you shouldn’t have gone into the underworld in the first place. Once you mixed with crooks and still acted greedy, who could you blame? If you got robbed, you had it coming.

If poaching wild Pokémon counted as a black-market industry, then black-on-black in the underground markets was more of a gray zone.

As long as nobody dug into it, he could walk away clean.

Which meant he had to choose between being hunted by black-market criminals, or being chased by the League.

He had to pick one path. And for him, this was simply the fastest way to make money.

What? Honest work?

He knew perfectly well that all legal ways of making money were written clearly into the League’s laws and regulations. He had no intention of using his own body as a test case to challenge the League’s authority.

Compared to being chased by the League, he much preferred dealing with gang reprisals.

He was alone anyway. Even if a gang chased him down, he could still, one day, go back to living under his normal identity. But once the League started hunting him, he’d have no way back and would be stuck on a one-way road into the dark.

Aside from all that, there was another reason he didn’t want to touch wild Pokémon at all—and it sounded almost laughable.

The laughable part was him. He felt he had no right to say this. In his previous life, he had watched a movie about protecting wildlife and exposing poaching rings.

There was a scene by a lakeshore, the ground littered with animal bones, carrion everywhere, vultures circling overhead.

That image had shocked him to his core. He couldn’t calm down for a long time. For who he was back then, that scene left a deep impact on his heart. He’d stayed silent for a long time before he finally shook it off.

That was his first real glimpse of poachers—what kind of people they were. People who saw nothing but profit in their eyes, who could raise the butcher’s knife against anyone for the sake of money.

He didn’t want to become one of them. He didn’t want to turn into that kind of vicious person. He felt he had no right to claim any moral high ground.

He had eaten wild Pokémon to stay alive. If he hadn’t, he would have starved to death. He was already stained. He didn’t intend to whitewash himself, and he had nothing to brag about. But he had never bought or sold wild Pokémon.

Any Pokémon he caught in the wild were either used by himself, released back into the wild, or gifted to children in orphanages. Not a single wild Pokémon had ever been sold.

The only Pokémon he’d taken to market were trainer-owned Pokémon he’d gotten through black-on-black jobs. Those wouldn’t be tagged by the League as poached.

He would rather take the black-on-black route than become a poacher. From the bottom of his heart, he loathed poachers and had resolved never to turn into one.

He thought about all this as he walked, covering a long stretch of tunnel. He forced down the disgust in his chest toward poachers, turned several corners, and then felt as if he’d discovered a new continent.

A bustling crowd came into view. As he drew closer, he could hear hawkers shouting their pitches. There were even people running street stalls here.

When he finally stepped out into the area, he realized he had entered a broad cavern. No one was blocking the entrance or charging protection money. Large bulbs hung overhead, flooding the whole place with bright light and making everything inside clearly visible.

The black market didn’t seem very big; you could see from one end to the other at a glance.

It looked more like a temporary market camp. All the deals were done at ground stalls. There wasn’t even a single proper store. Just a pop-up camp made of blankets and crates.

Before walking into the cavern, he’d already noticed the number of people gathered inside and decided to recall Croagunk to its Poké Ball.

Compared to Spinarak, Croagunk was worth much more. Getting targeted in a black-on-black hit was one thing.

But if the market’s managers took an interest in it, he could land in serious trouble and find it hard to get out safely.

To stay on the safe side, he kept only a single Spinarak on his shoulder as cover.

From his earlier observation, he’d already seen more than one Spinarak in this black market.

Once he actually stepped into the cavern, he started to pay attention to the Pokémon beside the masked buyers and masked stall owners. Roughly seventy percent of them were Poison-type, which he found a little odd.

Besides Poison-types, there were a few Bug-, Water-, Grass-, and Ground-type Pokémon. Those common types were present, but Poison clearly dominated this place.

Poison-types were by far the most common—Ekans, Oddish, Koffing, Grimer, Weedle, Spinarak, Bellsprout and other familiar Poison-types were everywhere.

There were even rarer Poison-types like Nidorino, Nidoran♀, and Skorupi to be seen here and there.

He even spotted several Croagunk.

Having decided not to let his own Croagunk out, he knew exactly how valuable it was compared to the crowd of Poison-types here.

So his plan was to first get a read on the situation, then decide whether it was worth bringing Croagunk out at all.

If he wanted to understand a place like this quickly, the best option was to find a regular and buy information.

The problem was how to pick out a regular, and who would be willing to sell him intel.

First, it had to be a stall owner. They needed to be familiar with both prices and the environment. Otherwise, they wouldn’t dare set up shop out here.

Second, they’d be selling common small goods—things in high demand that appeared again and again on their tarp. Rare items didn’t sit on a stall all the time; they might only show up once or twice.

Third, they were usually older, most likely middle-aged. The more smooth and cunning a person was, the more likely they’d survived here for years. Just staying in a place like this for that long was proof of ability.

Following those three criteria, Reiji quickly locked on to a target.

The masked stall owner he picked was selling homemade Poison-type Pokéblocks, antidotes, poison sacs, Poison-type items, and all kinds of toxic odds and ends.

The man’s face was covered, but the white at his temples couldn’t be hidden. He was exactly the kind of experienced regular Reiji was looking for.

“Young man, anything you want to buy?” The stall owner had noticed Reiji staring at his tarp for a long time without saying a word. Newcomers to this place often behaved like that. He knew that if he didn’t make the first move, these young people tended to turn around and leave.

He sold League-banned contraband here, just to make a little money on the side. He wasn’t about to let a potential customer slip away.

“What I’m interested in isn’t on your stall.” Reiji shook his head lightly. When it came to street-vendor poisons like these, he didn’t dare let his own Pokémon try them. He had no idea what the man might have mixed into them.

And the Poison-type Pokéblocks here were far inferior to the ones on Black Ship, never mind the ones sold in a proper department store.

He guessed that only penny-pinching Trainers would buy food for their Pokémon in a place like this.

“Then what exactly are you trying to buy?” The stall owner frowned. Reiji had parked himself in front of the stall yet refused to buy anything, and the man had no idea what he was playing at.

“I want information about this black market. Name your price.” Reiji met the man’s gaze, not sure whether the other could understand what he was really after.

“So you’re here to buy intel.” The stall owner stroked his chin, deciding this was a workable deal.

“Tell me how this black market really works. As long as I’m satisfied, all of this is yours.” Reiji pulled out 50,000 Pokédollars—five crisp ten-thousand bills—and waved them in front of the man. He didn’t believe anyone could stay unmoved by that kind of temptation.

“You need to pay a deposit first.” The stall owner glanced around to make sure no one was watching them, then stated his terms.

“No problem.” Reiji laid down two ten-thousand-Pokédollar bills as a deposit for the intel.

“Haha, generous kid. Ask anything you want. As long as I know it, I’ll tell you. Let’s find somewhere else to talk.”

The stall owner quickly folded his tarp up from the four corners, picked up the whole bundle, and led Reiji out of the cavern.

“Is there some trick to setting up a stall here?” Reiji asked as they walked, following the man back the way he’d come, though this time the man chose a different sewer passage.

“You have to pay the gang if you want a stall. It’s 1,000 Pokédollars each time for the pitch.” The stall owner took the lead, and, remembering that Reiji wanted to understand how the black market worked, started introducing things as they went.

“This black market is actually divided into three parts. The one we were just in is managed by the Poison Gang, and it’s also their base. Besides their section, there are two other black markets.”

“The second one’s run by the Rock Gang. Their boss is Naoki, a Trainer at quasi–Elite Four tier. He has a Golem whose strength has also reached quasi–Elite Four tier, and a Swampert and a Magcargo whose strength is very close to Golem’s.”

“He’s got three more Pokémon: a Magnezone, an Exeggutor, and a Flygon. The Rock Gang’s base is also inside the caverns, on the other side. Their members mainly use Ground-, Rock-, and Steel-type Pokémon…”

“The last one is run by the Storm Gang. Their boss is Riku, also a Trainer at quasi–Elite Four tier. He commands a Gyarados at quasi–Elite Four strength, and his Tentacruel and Cloyster are almost on par with it.”

“He’s also got three other Pokémon: a Pelipper, a Swampert, and a Houndoom. The Storm Gang’s base is likewise in the caverns, set on another side. The three gangs’ territories form a rough triangle. This gang’s members mostly use Water-type Pokémon. Gyarados has practically become standard issue—if you don’t have a Gyarados, you can’t join…”

“And the last one we mentioned just now is the Poison Gang we were in earlier. Their boss is Viper. That place originally belonged to a group called the Bug Gang, but Viper led his people to seize it, took in all of Bug Gang’s members, and renamed the group the Poison Gang.”

“They’ve risen extremely fast over the past half year. Viper is also a Trainer at quasi–Elite Four tier. He has an Arbok at quasi–Elite Four strength, and his Nidoking and Victreebel are almost on the same level.”

“He’s also got three other Pokémon: a Magnezone, a Golbat, and a Weezing. The Poison Gang’s base is the cavern we were just in. Their members mainly use Poison-type Pokémon, and everyone has to carry at least one Poison-type on them. That’s a hard requirement to join…”

“Even though they’ve only been around in this form for half a year, they’re already ranked second among the sewer black markets.”

By the time he finished, the stall owner had led Reiji to a drainage outlet by the sea. He pulled down his mask, took out a cigarette, lit it, and then offered one to Reiji.

“Want one?”

“No.” Reiji waved his hand. He hadn’t smoked in days and intended to keep it that way.

He picked the earlier thread back up. “Is Viper really that strong? To climb up to second place in just half a year… is Riku really willing to sit in third?”

“Of course he’s not.” The stall owner explained, “The main reason the Poison Gang managed to rise so quickly is that they inherited everything from the Bug Gang—their base and all their original members.”

“On top of that, Viper’s Pokémon are vicious, and his squad is well trained. When they showed up, they killed Bug Gang’s boss outright and then pushed Storm Gang’s boss, Riku, back down…”

“So what’s the story with the Rock Gang?” Reiji silently memorized what he’d just heard, then brought up the Rock Gang, which the man had mentioned less.

“Naoki, the Rock Gang’s boss, is the strongest of the three.” The stall owner went on, “I heard that sometime back, Viper went to challenge Naoki, but in the end the whole matter just disappeared.”

“Judging by Viper’s usual style, if he’d really won, he would’ve been bragging everywhere. And now there isn’t a peep, which probably means he lost that challenge…”

[End of Chapter]

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