Pokémon: Master of the Rain Team

On the other side of town, Reiji circled high above the black market several times. Only when he was absolutely sure no one was tailing him did he descend and return to the beach.

The first thing he did upon landing was strip off all his clothes and change into a stab-proof suit from his backpack. He also released Spinarak and Poliwhirl to stand guard.

Then, he lit a fire with a lighter and began burning everything—the stinking black jacket and pants, the shoes, hat, face covering, and raincoat. All of it, down to the last thread of the Hunter disguise, went into the flames.

Only the black facemask on his face remained. Everything else was reduced to ashes.

While burning the clothes, he took out the Hunter's bank card. After hearing from the mustached manager that it was useless, Reiji decided to toss it into the fire too.

Worried the fire wasn't strong enough, he even had Poliwhirl fetch dry branches to keep the flames roaring, ensuring nothing was left.

Then, without hesitation, he took out the gold card—the one that gave a 10% discount—and threw that into the fire too. He didn't know if it had been tampered with, but he wasn't about to take chances.

With that, the identity of the "pseudo-Elite Trainer who sold Electabuzz" disappeared completely from the world. No one could track a person who only existed for one night.

It wasn't that he didn't want to use this identity again, but rather, it was a one-time thing. Pretending to be a pseudo-Elite could not be repeated.

Keep up the act for too long, and even you might start to believe it. Lies require more lies to cover them, and eventually they collapse. Once the mustached manager caught on, and his strength didn't match the act, the consequences could be devastating.

Maybe things would've gone fine. Maybe they wouldn't. But Reiji wasn't about to gamble with the unknown. That 10% discount wasn't worth risking his future.

After destroying the gold card, he took out the anonymous bank card the fat manager had given him. He had to figure out how to safely transfer the thirty million Pokédollars inside.

In this world, he didn't trust anyone—not a soul. Only his Pokémon. Only himself.

Once the fire died down, he had Pelipper wash away any traces with water. Then he pulled out his watch—it was just after 2 a.m.

He hurled the Hunter's large gold watch into the sea. Then he recalled Poliwhirl, let Spinarak perch on his shoulder, put on his black face mask again, and climbed onto Pelipper barefoot.

At the harbor, he spent 500 Pokédollars in cash to buy a pair of cloth shoes. He still had about 40,000 Pokédollars in cash left.

Next, he returned to the old man's tavern, sneaking in through the back door again. He bumped into another waitress and asked her to fetch the old man.

When the old man arrived, Reiji cut straight to the point. "Is there a way to transfer money from an anonymous bank card without it being traced?"

"There is, but…" The old man paused and gave him a serious answer.

"5% sound good?" Reiji offered a 1.5 million commission on the 30 million.

"I can help," the old man replied, "but I don't want money."

Reiji immediately recoiled. "What, you want something shady? Forget it!" He quickly snatched back his bank card and backed away.

What else could the old guy possibly want besides his money or Pokémon?

"You've got it all wrong. I just want your Poliwhirl training method," the old man said, exasperated at the misunderstanding.

Reiji still stood there protectively, arms crossed. "You want Poliwhirl's training method?" he asked, visibly relaxing. "Pff, that's nothing... wait, no—it might be worth a lot."

The complete training method certainly wasn't worth only 1.5 million. If it were just some surface-level info, then maybe.

He'd never give up secrets like Moisture Awareness or Poliwhirl's high-speed, high-power explosive training.

"Old man, don't regret it later," Reiji warned, smirking. He figured he'd just throw the guy some scraps later—after all, it was his method. He could say whatever he wanted.

"Oh, I won't regret it. Swapping the training method for guidance? That's a great deal," the old man beamed. The actual "money laundering" was easy—just hit the casino.

All he had to do was walk Reiji there. Why not?

"Fine. Deal. Just take me to transfer the money first," Reiji said. He didn't trust the old fox. He'd do the transfer himself.

"Of course, of course. I'll take you. So… when will I get the Poliwhirl method?" the old man asked as they walked.

"It's all in my head. I can give it to you anytime. Unlike you, I keep my word."

Even after agreeing to the deal, Reiji still threw shade. Can't blame him—the old man did try to extort him at the start.

"Alright, alright, let's head to the casino. You can transfer money there," the old man led the way.

Reiji followed with Spinarak on his shoulder and one backpack on his back. The other three storage packs were left inside Pelipper's beak.

"How much are you transferring?" the old man asked casually.

"Thirty million," Reiji replied just as casually.

"THIRTY million?!" The old man nearly tripped. He spun around, eyes bulging at Reiji. So this kid was rich!

"What's the problem? I offered you a 5% cut earlier and you turned it down. Now you're getting second thoughts?" Reiji backed up two steps, wary.

Even Spinarak got defensive, baring fangs at the old man, ready to strike.

Reiji had already clutched Poliwhirl and Krabby's Poké Balls. If the old guy tried anything, he'd act instantly.

"Forget it, forget it. The training method is more valuable," the old man muttered.

He had indeed considered killing Reiji, but reason won out—he probably couldn't win, and the method would be lost. Plus, the bank card had a password—without it, that thirty million might as well not exist.

Better to just complete the trade and walk away with both the method and goodwill. He'd already embarrassed himself in front of the kid—might as well stop pretending.

Seeing the old man back off, Reiji didn't let his guard down and continued following silently.

This greedy old fox was still shrewd. Self-preservation always came first.

The two walked in silence until they reached the casino. Unlike the black market, the casinos were above ground, near the port.

Reiji followed the old man in and started converting his Pokédollars into chips in multiple transactions—several million here, ten million there.

His account dropped from 28,990,000 to 28,700,100—almost 300,000 gone in transfer fees.

Then he exchanged the chips back into Pokédollars and deposited them into a new anonymous card, getting hit with a 2% fee—574,002 Pokédollars.

In the end, only 28 million was left. The 126,098 in change he converted to cash. With the 40,000 in hand, he had 166,000 in cash total.

Just one transfer, and a whole one million Pokédollars vanished. Absolutely ridiculous.

Reiji swore to never deal with casinos again. One loop in and out and boom—gone. Who could take that?

"All done, little bro. You should be happy—my 1.5 million commission hasn't even been paid yet! Why the long face? When do I get the Poliwhirl method?" the old man laughed cheerfully. He was in a great mood seeing Reiji annoyed.

"Thanks a lot, old man," Reiji muttered sarcastically, knowing the old guy was enjoying his misery. But truthfully, without his help, the fee would've been 5%. So Reiji owed him.

He'd toss in a little extra when he gave the training method later.

"Don't thank me. Your gratitude is scary," the old man teased.

"By the way, who's the method for? Yourself?" Reiji asked.

"Of course!" the old man lied without blinking.

"Oh come on. You're too old to raise a Poliwhirl. Just tell me who it's for, or I won't give it to you."

Now that the money was safe, Reiji didn't mind playing hardball.

"You rascal," the old man chuckled. He didn't get mad. If Reiji wanted to flake, he wouldn't have paid the rest for the ID card. They weren't enemies.

"I'm giving it to my grandson. He has a Poliwhirl, and I want him to go further as a trainer."

"Got it. Who is he? Once I'm done with my stuff, I'll teach him how to train Poliwhirl…"

"What, for free?" the old man glared. Was Reiji trying to back out?

"Hey, I'm not like you. Don't lump me in with your shady ways. But if you don't want it, I'll just give you 1.5 million now and we're even."

"And for the record, I can't stand bratty kids. Especially the rebellious ones. I'd rather pay than babysit. I'll transfer the money now."

"No, no, I still want the Poliwhirl method. You've met my grandson before—he's the kid who brought your ID. He lives at the orphanage. You can find him there."

"The headmaster with the bad leg is my old friend. Just say I sent you. He'll help complete the ID paperwork."

"Heh. Using your grandson as a go-between? That's low, old man," Reiji muttered. He didn't know that skinny kid was the old man's grandson. Wouldn't have guessed.

Still, he wasn't about to break his word. "Just don't blame me if he can't keep up," he warned.

"I'll make sure the brat learns properly," the old man waved him off. Getting a promise in exchange for just leading the way—totally worth it.

"Thanks, old man," Reiji said sincerely. This time, he meant it.

Having a solid identity meant everything. It gave him a place in the world. Without it, he wouldn't even know how to survive.

One day, he might even forget who he really was. And who knew if he'd ever get a chance this perfect again?

So the old and the young man chatted as they walked.

At the tavern's back door, just before parting ways, Reiji gave one final warning.

"Old man, just so we're clear—if anyone traces this money, we're both dead."

"Understood," the old man waved a hand. He knew the stakes.

He'd already burned Reiji once. But now their fates were intertwined through his grandson. He couldn't afford another betrayal.

Besides, thirty million… that kind of money could make a pseudo-Elite trainer take a risk. If Reiji came back for revenge, he'd be doomed.

Where did the kid even get that much money? Probably sold a dozen high-quality black-market Pokémon. Lucky bastard.

After they parted, Reiji didn't know if he'd really scared the old man or not. He'd just been bluffing—he didn't know what kind of danger might come.

Still, the rule stood: trust no one. Not even this old fox.

It wasn't that he wanted to be this way—it was that he had no sense of safety. Not with anyone or anything.

That's why he could burn the gold card and pay massive fees without blinking.

He'd rather spend a little money and wipe away all traces than leave openings for future trouble.

Right now, he was like a hedgehog meeting a predator—curled up tight, ready to stab anything that got too close.

In this strange world, surrounded by strangers, he was always tense. That's also why he wanted to walk in the light—better than living in the shadows.

He wasn't a villain. He didn't want to be one. He wasn't a good guy either… but now, maybe, he could try.

Okay, no—he wasn't that naive. If anything, he wanted to be a good guy in the dark, a good guy among bad guys.

Not some purely good fool who gets shackled by morality.

As a kid, he'd helped old ladies cross the street. But as an adult, not once.

Now, under the cool night wind, he finally stretched his tense body. He had money, he had a clean identity.

He just wanted to be a law-abiding citizen now. Live quietly outside the city. Stay far from the chaos.

Maybe things could finally calm down. He was tired of being on edge.

After leaving the tavern, he headed to the meeting spot with Pelipper. The bird saw him from the rooftop and swooped down.

He rode Pelipper back to the hotel through the window. It was only a little past 3 a.m.

Time to shower and sleep.

Tonight would be the best sleep he'd had since arriving on Kinnow Island.

Spinarak and Pelipper found places to rest. He didn't even release the others from their Poké Balls.

After saying goodnight to his team, Reiji laid down on the soft bed, thinking about everything that had happened.

Everything was finally handled. The fake pseudo-Elite trainer identity was now just a memory—completely severed.

No one would ever find that person again.

Tomorrow, it was time to handle his Pokémon. All nine needed full checkups.

He also needed to check those three extra backpacks. Who knew if that fat guy had tampered with them?

The bags were a loose end, along with the poison-type materials. He'd deal with those too.

Burn them, toss them, whatever. But the bags couldn't be sold or dumped carelessly—too traceable.

As for the food packaging… probably not a concern. They were all generic.

Still, to be safe, he'd burn all of them too. Reduce them to ash.

[End of Chapter]

[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]

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