Dejima Island's harbor.
Hamlin Island curved like a crescent moon. Cities and neighborhoods hugged the outside rim and both ends of the crescent, while a wide plain opened across the island's center.
The ship reached Dejima Island that night. Reiji didn't even leave the harbor after disembarking. He went straight to the ticket window, bought a first-class ticket to the Kanto Region, and watched 100,000 Pokédollars vanish from his funds in one swipe.
He picked the earliest departure. As soon as he had the ticket in hand, he boarded.
The passenger ship would sail overnight. The trip would take two to three days, with a stop at the Sevii Islands along the way. If everything stayed on schedule, he'd reach Kanto on the morning of the third day.
He hadn't bothered checking whether this ship belonged to Team Rocket. Either way, it was a business. Team Rocket wasn't going to butcher paying passengers and destroy an entire shipping company's reputation.
Once he reached his cabin, he didn't see a single Team Rocket uniform. The ship looked like every other passenger liner he'd taken—nothing strange, nothing off.
First class was still first class. The room wasn't huge—space on a ship cost too much for that—but the floor-to-ceiling window made up for it. There was also a small balcony where he could drink tea and sit in the sun. Expensive, sure, but he could live with it.
He flopped onto the soft bed, released his Pokémon, and fed them dinner. After they ate, he kept only Pelipper, Poliwhirl, Kingler, Zapdos, and Spinarak in the room.
Spinarak took the night watch. The others settled onto the carpet or curled up on the bed. Kingler planted itself by the door like a bouncer, ready to clamp down on anyone stupid enough to try breaking in.
Once everything was set, Reiji gathered Zapdos against his chest and stepped out onto the balcony. The ship was already pulling away from the harbor.
He hadn't explored Hamlin Island properly. If he wanted to see it, it would have to wait for next time.
Hamlin Island had three major cities, and Dejima had one of its own. The glow he watched across the water belonged to Dejima's city—lights shrinking as the ship eased into the dark.
He stood in the wind for a while, letting the night air cool his face. When the temperature dipped further, he went back inside, closed the glass door, and let Zapdos wander the cabin on its own.
Then he pulled out his notebook.
He'd burned through money lately.
Lake cabin renewal for five months: 1,000,000Bought Sou's Barboach: 100,000Two tickets to Mandarin Island North + drinks: 6,000Pummelo Island → Hamlin Island: 10,000Hamlin Island → Kanto (first class): 100,000
Then there were the new moves: Poliwhirl learned five, Kingler learned five, Scyther learned four, Pelipper learned six, and Shelmet learned two. Shelmet picked up two more by learning from Scyther and Gengar.
Each new move cost 50,000. Total for move training: 1,100,000Minus the 50,000 he'd prepaid to Sou: 1,050,000
Total spent this stretch: 2,266,000Last balance: 27,986,000Current balance: 25,720,000
He let the notebook fall onto the mattress and stared at the ceiling.
Over twenty million left—more than enough for a trip through Kanto.
But he knew the truth. It still wasn't enough. Not with the kind of research he wanted to do—testing whether "combination evolutions" could be exploited to raise a Pokémon's potential.
When he'd had downtime, he'd dug through all sorts of books, cross-checked his Pokédex, and circled every Pokémon he could find that evolved through some kind of combination.
The logic was simple: if a Pokémon could evolve by merging, then splitting it apart should count as devolution. If that loop worked the way Gengar's evolution-devolution trick did, then he could brute-force growth by pouring resources in.
If he wanted to reach Champion tier quickly, he'd need shortcuts like that. His current core—Poliwhirl and the others—could get there, but only with time. And "time" didn't come with a receipt. It could take years.
The candidates he'd marked down were: Slowpoke, Dugtrio, Magneton, Weezing, Mantine…
Then there were the rarer ones: Vanilluxe, Klinklang, Metagross, Alolan Dugtrio…
The first group was plausible. The second group was a fantasy.
One Beldum alone cost billions. Reiji wasn't Steven—he didn't have a family business built on mines, and he definitely couldn't afford the kind of absurdity where someone fused multiple shiny Beldum just to create a shiny Metagross.
As for Vanilluxe, Klinklang, and Alolan Dugtrio—those were hard to find around here. He crossed them off mentally.
That left the first batch, the ones he could actually chase.
He'd even seen speculation that Dugtrio might literally be three Diglett fused into one body. The anime had gone as far as naming Dugtrio's three heads like separate "people." If the fusion theory held, then merging would be evolution and separating would be devolution—a perfect loop for what he wanted.
And Diglett were common in Kanto. Around Mt. Moon alone, he could probably find plenty in the wild.
If he could select three Diglett with quasi–Elite Four potential, then fuse them into a Dugtrio… Reiji didn't even want to imagine what kind of monster would come out of that. He only knew one thing: it wouldn't be normal.
Magneton could follow the same path. Unlike Dugtrio, that fusion had already been documented by the League—three Magnemite combining into one was proven.
Slowpoke also fit his idea. Something latched onto its tail to trigger evolution. If removing it reverted the change, that loop might work too.
Mantine was another possibility. Its evolution involved another Pokémon's presence and attachment. If that connection could be undone, that was another potential evolution-devolution cycle.
And Weezing—two Koffing fused into one body with a clear connecting point. Connect and disconnect. Evolve and devolve. In theory, it fit cleanly.
Weezing also had rare mutation cases—two Koffing born as conjoined twins. In extreme cases, you could even see three fused together.
If the evolution-devolution method worked on all five lines, he'd need:
Three DiglettThree MagnemiteOne ShellderTwo WeezingOne MantykeOne Remoraid
Eleven Pokémon total, all young, all with quasi–Elite Four potential.
And then the real nightmare: money.
To push five of those lines up to Champion potential, even a conservative estimate was 300 million per line. That was 1.5 billion.
And that was conservative. Also, he wasn't even aiming for some absurd "??" ceiling beyond Champion tier. He just wanted Champion tier.
If every one of them turned into another Gengar-level money pit, his wallet would explode.
He'd have to pull the same kind of job he did on Riku—five times over—and loot the underground black market five times just to scrape together enough funds.
Reiji stared at the ceiling and let out a short, incredulous laugh.
What kind of plan was that?
One hit like that had already left him sweating bullets. Doing it five times wasn't "bold." It was suicide.
So no. He'd have to do it the slow way—earn money over time, test things carefully, and only take risks when he absolutely had to.
If he could find a shipwreck treasure cache, great. If he could hit a poaching ring that hoarded cash, even better.
But he couldn't afford to tangle with people like Riku again unless he had no other choice. One wrong connection, and someone would start tracing patterns.
Right now, the priority list was simple.
First: capture the Pokémon.Second: build the money pile.Third: run the research.
He wasn't even at step one yet. Research without specimens was just daydreaming.
This trip to Kanto was the perfect chance to start collecting. Once he finished the Indigo Plateau Conference, he could settle in and begin testing.
He wrote the five lines into his notebook, wrote the money estimate beside them, then shut the book and set it aside.
He'd spent the entire day running from place to place. His body finally demanded rest.
Reiji rolled over on the soft bed, pulled Zapdos close, and let sleep take him.
…
At the same time, on Mandarin Island North—inside Naoki's villa—Naoki spent the day showing Sou around the club.
Sou's Pelipper impressed the club owner enough that Sou could start work immediately as a beginner sparring partner.
The club also promised to handle Sou's trainer certification—proper League paperwork, official status, everything.
The cost was a five-year contract.
Sou thought it over, then signed. He officially became a club employee.
Naoki, Daishi, and Gai had signed the same contract too—but under fake identities, with altered appearances.
All three had lived in the underworld before. Disguises were second nature. Naoki warned Sou to do the same, but Sou refused outright.
In the end, Naoki dropped it. They weren't using the club to get rich. They were using it to hide. Once they rebuilt their strength and the revenge plan kicked off, they'd leave.
After work, Naoki assigned Sou a room, told him to shower and rest, and then handled his own business.
Gai showed up, ready to head out. They had underground work to do.
Daishi stayed behind. He was still raising a baby Pokémon, and until it grew stronger, he wouldn't touch black-market jobs.
"Black work" really just meant bounties posted through the underground black market—dirty, violent tasks. If the Pokémon Center's bounty board was off-limits, that didn't mean the underworld's board was.
Lately, they'd been doing a steady routine: take underground jobs, then have Gai collect the payout at the Pokémon Center under a clean cover, and split the money based on who did the work.
Before they could take a new job tonight, they had to deal with leftover contraband from last time. One batch was too risky to move locally—it would draw eyes. The safest option was to transfer it out and sell it elsewhere.
They rented a private Pokémon transfer device, and Naoki called the old drunk on Kinnow Island. Ever since the last time Naoki helped Reiji transfer Pokémon, he and the old drunk had stayed in contact.
It was also Reiji's export channel. If Reiji trusted the guy, then the guy was probably safe to do business with.
They agreed on a price before anything moved.
When the video call connected, Naoki looked at the old drunk on-screen and got straight to it. "Old drunk, I've got a batch to move. You want it? Twelve million."
"It's you," the old drunk said, recognizing him instantly. "I want to inspect first."
"Fine." Naoki sent the goods over. If the old drunk tried to lowball him, Naoki could just transfer them back and sell elsewhere.
After a short pause, the old drunk spoke again. "Quality's good."
"And?" Naoki asked. He wasn't asking about quality. He was asking about money.
"Alright. Twelve million still leaves me some profit." The old drunk chuckled as he accepted the batch.
Naoki sighed. "You're a middleman. Don't act like you're the one out there risking your life."
The old drunk laughed awkwardly. That was the truth—he barely even did the legwork. Other people handled the messy parts. He just collected money.
Then the old drunk's tone shifted, casual but probing. "By the way—any news on that kid? My grandson keeps asking about him. Where's he hanging around these days?"
Naoki didn't bite. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"
"Haven't talked in a while," the old drunk said. "Just want to share a couple drinks."
Naoki narrowed his eyes. "Old drunk, what's your grandson's relationship with the boss?"
The old drunk grinned like he'd been waiting for the question. "My grandson's his student. And I've got a relationship with him too. You could say I took him in when he was an orphan. When he sees me, he should call me 'Grandpa.'"
Naoki didn't respond, but the claim sat wrong. The way those two talked didn't sound that close.
Still, if there really was a connection, it meant the old drunk didn't need to be treated as an enemy. Reiji hadn't hidden much from Naoki's group either. It didn't sound like some top-secret issue.
Naoki finally gave him a sliver. "He went to Kanto. No idea when he'll be back."
"Kanto?" The old drunk stared for a second. "What's he doing there?"
"He didn't say." Naoki shook his head. That was all he knew.
"Alright," the old drunk said. "That's enough. Hang up if there's nothing else."
Naoki ended the call, then left with Gai for the black market.
The old drunk turned and looked at his grandson.
"Shun," he said, "you heard it. That kid went to Kanto. If you want his number, I can give it to you."
"Kanto…" Shun repeated quietly. "What's Reiji-nii doing in Kanto?"
It had been over two months since they parted ways on Mandarin Island South. Shun had grown taller. The baby softness in his face had sharpened. His strength had surged too—Poliwhirl and Breloom had both stepped into Advanced tier.
The old drunk glanced at the TV. A regional tournament broadcast flickered across the screen. "Maybe it's that."
"The Indigo Plateau Conference," Shun said immediately. In Kanto, there was only one event big enough to draw someone like Reiji.
The timing lined up too. This year's conference should be starting soon.
Shun's fist tightened. "Grandpa. I want to go to Kanto."
For two months, he hadn't let himself slack for even a day. Training all night. Building connection and coordination with his Pokémon. Fighting stronger opponents. Sharpening his commands. Writing tactics. Filling in gaps through experience.
He'd done it for one reason.
He wanted to stand on the same stage as Reiji.
The old drunk knew he couldn't stop him. He only nodded. "Go. But remember—Kanto is Team Rocket's territory. If you run into them, run first. Stay alive. Understand?"
Shun nodded hard.
The old drunk reached under a sofa cushion, pulled out a small box, and slid it across the table.
"Your Poliwhirl has enough buildup," he said. "When you reach Kanto, find the right moment and evolve it."
Shun already knew what was inside. He opened the box and saw a clear, water-blue stone resting in the velvet lining.
"A Water Stone…"
"Yes," the old drunk said. "A high-grade Water Stone. It belonged to your father."
He tapped his old pipe twice, eyes lingering on the stone like he was saying goodbye to something he'd guarded for years.
What his son never finished… what his son never reached… would be carried forward by his grandson instead.
Shun looked down at the stone, then up at his grandfather's face—older than it had been even a few months ago. He nodded once, firmly, and closed the box.
"I'm going to prepare," Shun said. "I want to leave as soon as possible."
"Go," the old drunk said. "I'll set up the route. A ticket north from Kinnow Island, past Navel Island, straight to Hamlin Island. From there, you buy your Kanto ticket yourself."
He pointed a finger at Shun. "And watch yourself. Don't show off. You made a lot of noise on Kinnow Island. That won't fly outside. Team Rocket will notice. Keep your head down. Don't expose yourself."
"I know," Shun said.
He went to pack. After saying goodbye to his grandfather, he still needed to visit the orphanage and say farewell there too. This trip could keep him away for months.
Later, out on the street, Shun tilted his head up toward the night sky. Stars scattered across the darkness like sparks.
His last goodbye with Reiji flashed through his mind—boarding day, like it was yesterday.
But it wasn't yesterday.
Two months had already passed.
He wasn't the orphanage's "king" anymore. Traveling with Reiji had shown him too much and taught him too much. Then two months of training alone had hardened the rest. He'd even wandered through the black market now and then, watching how people lied, cheated, backstabbed, and flipped their faces without blinking.
His grandfather's tricks ran deep too. The old man had experience, and he used it without mercy.
No wonder Reiji called him an old fox.
Shun had been crushed once. He didn't plan to let it happen again.
If something needed proving, he'd do it the blunt way.
With strength.
When you were strong enough to choke the air out of a room, people suddenly became kind. Everyone around you turned into "good people."
And if someone refused?
Then you hit them until they didn't.
That was what he'd been doing these past two months.
Now there was only one thing he wanted.
The day he met Reiji again.
[End of chapter]
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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