Lantana
The Shack
Frederico Alu breathed heavily through his mouth as he felt cold metal chains bind him tightly to the wooden chair he was in. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his mouth felt dry. The man’s vision was full of nothing but black, courtesy of the blindfold that was wrapped around his eyes, which felt just as suffocating and tight as the chains around his hands.
Despite being unable to see his surroundings, Frederico could smell them. Old wood mixed with a strange burnt stench, and the iron-like smell of blood lingered in the air. Thanks to this, he was able to piece together where he had been taken.
The Shack.
He had been taken to this place because he had failed. In an attempt to catch a grass type Pokemon, he had brought something bigger. Then it had destroyed The Facility, a small building designed to store Pokemon meant to be trafficked around Enotria. The whole situation was a disaster, and he bore the blame for it all.
You never wanted to be in The Shack, especially on this end. The Shack was where bad things happened to people, lots of torture, lots of death. Regardless of what side you were on, whether you were bound to a chair like Frederico or you were a witness, you saw things, terrible things even. Or at least, that’s what he had heard. This was Frederico’s first time being in The Shack, and he could only recognize it due to the details others gave him.
“Listen…” Frederico pleaded, his voice hoarse and rough. “It wasn’t my fault, I swear!”
He coughed right after speaking. Every word he spoke, every breath he took physically hurt, primarily because of the fact that every part of his body, chest included, was bruised from the beatings he had endured.
“Please!” Frederico continued to wail.
There was no response, and The Shack was dead quiet. Frederico couldn’t hear anything from the outside, either. The walls were designed to be like that–if you were in The Shack, you couldn’t hear anything from the outside… but those outside could hear everything.
Frederico’s heart pounded beneath his chest. He knew what would happen, but maybe he could convince the Capos to forgive him. It was just a mistake. How could he have known that damn Tangrowth would have broken free!
The door suddenly opened with a loud, audible creak and Frederico heard various footsteps. It was a mixture of leather impacting the ground, mixed with steel being dragged across the concrete floor.
Frederico’s heart stopped as he came across a deep realization. He raised his head up and violently moved as best he could. His legs, while not bound, hurt so much that he could barely move them, and his flailing did little to move the chair.
“Don De Luca, I’m sorry! It wasn’t my fault, I swear!” he screamed as loudly as he could.
“Hey, hey!” a calm voice smooth as silk laced with an Enotrian accent replied. “Calm down, kid… calm down.”
Frederico did not speak. Instead, he did as he was told, breathing as best as he could. In through the nose, out through the mouth…
You never disobeyed The Don or disrespected him. If he told you to do something, you did it.
He thought of his mother, and the damn saint that she was. She raised him the best she could before she took her own life, and the thought of her was enough to keep Frederico calmed down.
“Gentlemen, could you take the blindfold off of Mr. Alu here?” that calm, silk voice requested. “The chains too, he won’t be a problem. Will he?”
“Of course not, signore! I’m not a problem, not at all!” Frederico babbled.
“Good man,” Don De Luca said.
Frederico felt an enormous sense of relief as he felt the chains release their suffocating grip on his body. He was able to move his arms and hands freely, but the injuries from his earlier beatings, which had been further exacerbated by the weight of the chains, made it difficult to do so.
Then, the blindfold came off. Frederico was in a small room, dimly lit by a flickering lightbulb with old oakwood walls coated with dust, and standing before him were three men and two Pokemon.
Frederico didn’t bother with two of the men; the only one who mattered was the man standing right in front of him, who had a Bisharp by his right and a Houndoom by his left.
The man himself wore a black, well-pressed suit like the other two in the room, and had short, curly dark hair and pale skin. He appeared to be in his forties, but he had the face of an angel, with blue eyes that could stare into your very soul.
This man was Don Aldo De Luca, war hero and philanthropist by day, cunning and vicious mob boss by night. He controlled the entire De Luca family, which consisted of twelve hundred men. They were the largest family in Enotria, and their influence stretched from Bellissimo Mare to Carbone.
They controlled the ports and farmland and would soon control Carbone’s mining operations as soon as that pesky gym leader was dealt with.
“Are you calm now?” The Don asked as he pulled over a wooden chair that was off to the side and sat in it, his calm blue eyes meeting Frederico’s terrified brown.
Frederico nodded. “Yes, signore.”
“Good!” The Don smiled. “Now, tell me, Freddy…” he said before immediately stopping himself. “May I call you Freddy?”
“Of course, signore, call me whatever you like,” Frederico breathed out, managing the best smile he possibly could.
“Alright, Freddy. Tell me, what happened?” Don De Luca questioned. “I’m not mad, I just wanna know what happened.”
“The Tangrowth…” the captive muttered. “The Tangrowth got in the way when we were trying to take that Turtwig you wanted for the ring.”
“Really?” The Don asked, raising a brow.
“Yes, signore… but we decided, hey, why not take it instead?” Frederico explained, lightly chuckling. “It woulda been good for the ring anyway, it was strong. Killed three of our boys and killed my Murkrow.”
“Your Murkrow died?” Aldo asked.
“Yes, signore, the weak pissant was strangled by that… monster,” Frederico spat.
Strangulation would have been a mercy for it, really. Bile soon started to crawl up Frederico’s throat as he remembered how he heard his partner’s bones crunch and shatter, the very life was sucked out of Murkrow and tossed to the side like the trash it was.
He thought of his mother again; the thought of her gave Frederico strength, and he swallowed the vomit. It would have been a disaster if he threw up anywhere near The Don, let alone on him.
“I see…” The Don scratched his chin. “So, you got the Tangrowth doped up?”
“Yeah!” Frederico exclaimed with a wide smile on his face. “We were going to deliver it to you and everything, but it woke up and broke free. We didn’t restrain it tight enough, or maybe we didn’t inject it enough.”
“Didn’t restrain it tight enough, didn’t inject it enough…” The Don frowned. “Sounds like excuses to me.”
“It wasn’t our fault, I swear, Mr. De Luca!” Frederico cried. “I tried to tell the other guys before they died that you wouldn’t like it, but nobody listened!”
He didn’t want to die! It wasn’t his fault. It was never his fault! He had said it was a bad idea to his crew, but they didn’t listen. They never wanted to listen to Frederico!
“Then maybe you should have killed them, you blubbering fool!” The Don spat, his voice rising by an octave, stern and irate. “What have the capos, your superiors said? Don’t go near the Tangrowth, don’t be seen by the Tangrowth, and do you know why?”
Frederico’s heart pounded beneath his chest as he looked at The Don’s once calm blue eyes. They were now full of scorn and fury, and he could tell The Don was gritting his teeth.
Then Frederico was pushed back into his chair, and The Don took a deep breath.
“Because Tangrowth is the patriarch of every grass type in Lantana,” Don Aldo De Luca said, his voice suddenly calm, collected, and barely above a whisper. “Every grass type pays homage to him because he cares for them and loves them much like a father would his child. Whether they were born in Lantana or hell, even if they weren’t born in Enotria, every grass type Pokemon is safe under his watchful eye should they enter his land, and he saw you try to take one of those children forcefully.”
Tears streamed down Frederico’s face, and the mobster was shaking at the sight of the furious Don. Even worse, his Pokemon were just glaring at him—not letting out a single bark or cry, just… eyes full of disdain and mockery!
“Tell me, Freddy. Is the facility still up and running?” Aldo asked.
“N-no signore,” Frederico blubbered. “The Tangrowth destroyed a lot of equipment, even tore a hole in the building.”
“Good,” The Don said. “That will make things even better… and does anyone know about what took place?”
“I was the only one there. The other boys are dead… so are their Pokemon.”
“Perfect.” The Don smiled. “Go ahead and get up. You’re free to go.”
“I am?” Frederico smiled.
He couldn’t believe this. The Don was letting him off the hook! He definitely understood, it wasn’t his fault! These things just happened!
“Thank you, Don De Luca. I promise, I’ll do a better job! I swear on my mama’s grave,” Frederico declared as he got up, but suddenly fell silent as he looked forward.
Where was The Don’s Bisharp?
It was in that singular moment that Frederico Alu felt a piercing, terrible pain in his chest, and as he looked down, he saw a single blade protruding out from his chest, covered in blood.
His blood.
“How fortunate to know your mother isn’t around to know her son has died,” Don De Luca whispered. “I’ll admit, seeing mothers cry over their dead children broke me during the war. I’m glad I won’t have to see it happen again.”
Frederico coughed and gagged as tasted the metallic liquid that was his own blood, spitting it onto the concrete floor.
The Bisharp pulled his blade out from Frederico’s chest, and the mobster fell onto the concrete floor with a resounding thud.
The mobster tried to speak, to reason with The Don, but he could only cough and gag on his blood, which poured from his chest and spread out onto the concrete floor as if it were a river. He looked up and saw Aldo step to the side, only being greeted by the crimson glare of his Houndoom.
Bisharp walked forward, standing right next to Aldo. Frederico’s blood dripped off the blade, creating a disgusting trail of gore.
Frederico breathed. He raised his hand, but it fell to the floor from his own weakness.
“Don De Luca!” He heard a baritone voice boom from afar… was that Underboss Verga?
“Our informants have reached out to us. We believe a few select farmers know, including Giuseppe Armani and a boy—a new trainer named Vito Barone,” Underboss Verga said. “We have eyes on the farmers, but Vito Barone was last seen going to The Woodlands.”
“Kill the farmers, they’re replaceable.” Don De Luca waved. “I don’t see the boy surviving, given that the grass types are more than likely upset with their lovely ‘father’ doped up. But if he comes out… kill him, along with anyone else who knows. Reward the informant with a painless death while you’re at it too.”
“And the facility?” the Underboss questioned.
“Make sure it’s not connected back to us. I don’t care how, so long as it’s done,” The Don said, then turned his head and looked down at Frederico. “We’ll need a replacement.”
This was it. Frederico knew he was going to die here, in a torture chamber that took the form of a run-down shack. Nobody would mourn his death, and even worse? He wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to his mama.
Then, the last thing he saw before his death was the open maw of The Don’s Houndoom and a ball of all-consuming black fire that radiated a blistering heat so intense that it ate away at Frederico’s skin, so dark that it blinded his very vision.
He didn’t even have enough time to scream. First, it was a terrible, painful heat, and then nothing.
Frederico Alu had met his end.
The Wandering Teacher
Emile
Lantana
The Woodlands
“So, what are we doing here?” Belle asked as she walked alongside Emile and Frère.
They had left the shade of The Woodlands, now basking under the shining sun’s warmth. There was nothing in sight, the entire area untouched by man: a Pokemon’s paradise, evident by the rustling of nearby bushes where Rattata frolicked along with the chirping of Pikipek from above.
Yet, Emile didn’t feel relaxed in this peaceful land.
The three were alone, as Vito was with Lucrezia watching over Tangrowth, and seeing as how the large creature was finally recovering, Emile had opted to leave.
“Mr. Hawthorne, whoever did this attempted to capture and traffic Tangrowth… and they’re probably close by,” Nurse Lucrezia’s words echoed in his mind.
If the instigators really were nearby as she thought they were, then they needed to be investigated and dealt with swiftly. By now, he figured that the traffickers were already preparing to abandon their outpost; that, or they would try and take Tangrowth again.
He narrowed his eyes as he stepped forward, scratching his chin. The trainer thought back to his time in Sinnoh. During that time frame, when he wasn’t fighting Team Galactic, he had been conducting various operations against small trafficking groups, all of which had different ways of concealing themselves and holding Pokemon hostage.
Most of those organizations chose dangerous routes and hid their operations there, as many travelers wouldn’t spot them. They wouldn’t be bothered by wild Pokemon either, as the organizations didn’t target them.
It was a smart choice, and some of these groups were so good that they managed to hide in plain sight, being undetected by anyone.
Those hiding places starkly contrasted with Lantana’s rather peaceful Woodlands.
Emile glanced towards Belle.
Belle nodded. She didn’t need to hear her trainer’s thoughts to know what he wanted, so she followed his silent order and teleported.
The trainer raised his head to the sky, and above was Belle, who used her psychic powers to keep herself afloat.
“Anything?” Emile asked.
“Nothing. It's just a field,” Belle replied. “There’s nothing out here besides grass and trees. It's very likely that Tangrowth was just a snatch-and-grab gone wrong. I’m not seeing…”
Emile raised a brow as he heard Belle suddenly fall silent. Nothing had happened above, so clearly, she either saw or sensed something.
Gardevoir suddenly vanished from the sky and she appeared right in front of Emile. “I found something; it's not too far from here,” she said.
“Can we teleport there?” Emile asked.
“I can get us close,” Belle declared as she outstretched her hand.
Emile nodded at his Gardevoir, then looked at Frère.
“Go back to Vito,” he commanded. “I’m not sure if these guys are going to try and take Tangrowth again or not, but if they are, I know you can deal with them.”
Glaceon growled and stepped forward, then barked.
“I’ll be fine.” Emile smiled. “I have Belle and Chevalier with me, but Vito doesn’t have anyone with him.”
Frère turned his head to the side and gritted his teeth in disagreement.
Ah, did he have to pick now to do this? Emile stepped forward and kneeled down and gently cupped his Glaceon’s face with his hands, staring straight into the ice type’s eyes.
“I’ll be fine,” Emile softly said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I promise. I know you don’t like it when I do this, but please. Do this for me?”
Frère was silent, but he slowly nodded.
“Thank you,” Emile spoke as he caressed his partner’s cheek. “I’ll be back soon. Belle and I will investigate the place and come right back.”
The trainer let go of his Glaceon, who turned around, but gave Emile one last glance.
Emile walked over to Belle and gently took her hand. He gave it a firm grip before they suddenly vanished, only to reappear in another section of the fields. Like before, there was nothing but grass and trees, but when Emile turned around, his eyes widened.
In front of him was a small concrete building. Looking at it, Emile theorized that the facility had to have been built from the ground up. Grass grew on its sides and on the roof, making it look as if it was part of the land itself. It had a large, black metal door in front, which prevented Emile from entering.
As he inspected the exterior, Emile walked to the right side and saw a large, gaping hole in the wall of this supposedly hidden building.
“Arceus, that Tangrowth had to have done this,” Emile commented. “Who knows how many layers of concrete this is.”
He took a step forward, but as soon as he did he felt his heart skip a beat and the hairs on his body stand up. It took a deep breath for Emile to calm his nerves, and he soon realized why he had suddenly felt so anxious.
“They were concealing themselves with dark type energy,” Belle said. “That explains why I couldn’t pick it up at first.”
“Crafty fellows, aren’t they? But this building seems to be older than their trafficking operation,” Emile replied as he stepped through the hole with Belle right behind him.
Looking around, Emile was greeted by the sight of large cages placed against the wall on his left. All around this ruined building were various machines that were damaged beyond repair. When Emile looked down, he saw that the concrete floor was covered with dirt and gurneys of various sizes.
These must have been for the Pokemon, but why not just simply put them in Pokeballs? Trafficking Pokemon would be much easier if they did that. What was the point of all of these gurneys? Were they conducting experiments here?
“Emile!” Belle called out. “I’ve found something.”
Emile raised his head and stepped towards Belle, who was beside a table that was pushed up against the wall. Syringes and small broken glass jars were littered to the right, but some remained intact on the table.
“Whatcha got for me?” he asked.
“This strange substance,” Belle informed him as she telekinetically raised one of the jars up for Emile to inspect.
Inside of it was a clear liquid, and he raised a brow as he continued to observe. He heard Lucrezia’s voice in his mind again as he recalled his conversation with her.
“This must be Gainium,” Emile commented. He was about to take another step when he felt his foot touch something round and metal. He raised a brow and looked down, and saw a Pokeball on the ground right underneath his foot.
Now it was all starting to make sense.
When a Pokemon was put into its Pokeball, it was put into a state similar to hibernation. It wasn’t healed when put inside, and any afflictions it had remained until treated by a professional or a trainer.
“They’d inject the Pokemon with Gainium first… then they’d catch them. That way, they’d still be doped up when released,” Emile observed as he removed his foot from the device.
“Shall we go?” Belle asked.
Emile stepped back, moving towards an open door that led to the rest of the facility, this time getting another view of the room he was in.
“Not yet,” he finally replied as he observed the building. “This bunker has intrigued me; I want to take a look through it before we leave.”
Looking around, Emile saw another gurney tossed over. This one was large, capable of comfortably holding and restraining a person if necessary.
However, if you were creative, you could use it to restrain Pokemon that were near the size of humans, like a Tangrowth. The species was, on average, a foot taller than the average human male and weighed nearly three hundred pounds.
It wouldn’t be comfortable, but it’d certainly work for the time being. Of course, if you were trying to restrain a Pokemon covered with vines, two of which were its long arms, and if you weren’t perceptive enough, you’d never be able to restrain one properly.
“Which leads to it breaking out,” Emile quietly commented as he looked at the gurney, which had fallen onto its side with a rusted wheel broken off. Then, he looked down at the Pokeball that he had stepped on earlier.
“In the chaos, someone must have tried to catch it but Tangrowth repelled it,” he continued. “Then it broke out.” Emile looked at the large gaping hole in the wall.
A thought then crossed the trainer’s mind. Just why would these poachers try to catch a Pokemon like Tangrowth and yet do so ineffectively?
They obviously wanted a strong Pokemon, but they didn’t have the necessary resources to contain such a behemoth. So why did they even bother? Was it general incompetence, or was it overconfidence on their part?
Whatever the case, their attempt failed and Tangrowth escaped. It would be a while before Emile found any more facts detailing Tangrowth’s attempted abduction. But another interesting question came to mind, one which had been asked earlier.
Just what was this facility?
Emile looked around. The concrete building appeared to be much older than he was, yet nobody in Lantana had taken notice of it. Just who exactly built this strange bunker?
He was about to explore the site when his PokeGear began to ring.
The trainer took the device from his pocket and flicked it open, immediately answering the call when he saw Vito’s name.
“What is it, kid?”
“Where the hell are you? The grass types are pissed off again, something’s going on out here and I don’t know what!” Vito shouted.
Emile’s eyes widened. This shouldn’t be happening, the source of the problem was fixed, Tangrowth was better! He was about to speak until Vito began to shout.
“Shit! I know those outfits, these are!”
The line went dead after that.
Emile’s blood went cold.
“Emile, I found something!” Belle cried. “Come over here, now!”
The Wandering Teacher
Lantana
The Woodlands
Vito gritted his teeth as he dove onto the ground. For a brief second, his shoulder felt as if it were on fire, and it was all thanks to the two men in front of him with Houndours by their side.
They both wore different outfits but stood out with their leather jackets and dark bandannas covering their faces. They weren’t “uniforms” per se, but the skulls on the bandannas labeled them as members of the so-called Enotrian Mob.
Things were bad. First, the grass types were agitated by something from the outside, and then they all vanished, along with Frère, who followed them to deal with whatever was going on. During the chaos, these two pricks appeared from the trees.
“Lucrezia!” Vito shouted as he turned to his right and saw that the nurse was safe, off to the side trying to drag away Tangrowth.
“I’m still here!” the nurse shouted. “Get these people away!”
He took another look forward. Pikachu was on all fours and glaring at the attackers.
That was good, but where was…
“Psy!”
Vito turned to his left and saw Psyduck on the ground, clutching his head. His eyes widened as he saw the yellow duckling roll back and forth, clearly in pain.
“Lucrezia! Can you treat Psyduck?” he shouted. “He’s down!”
“I’m on it!” the nurse cried as she stepped away from Tangrowth, immediately moving to Psyduck’s aid.
Vito gritted his teeth even harder, hard enough to where it hurt and he could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He turned his head back to the two men, merely looking at them made his blood boil.
“Hey, shitheels! What the fuck are you doing?” the trainer shouted.
Vito already knew the answer. Given how involved these bastards were with the mob, they were more than likely the ones who harmed Tangrowth.
His heart pounded beneath his chest, his arms trembled, and he swallowed hard, tightly clenching his fists as he watched the two mobsters.
Lupa dammit! Where the hell was Emile when you needed him?
“You went too deep, kid. Didn’t ya know you weren’t supposed to go in this part of the woods?” One of the mobsters asked.
“Didn’t you hear that I fucked your mother, fucktard?” Vito taunted.
“Aren’t you a funny guy?” another mobster spat. “Houndour, get him!”
“Hell yeah I am! Your mother thought I was funny too!” Vito shot back. “Pikachu, Quick Attack!”
Pikachu was the first to move. The yellow mouse became a blur of motion, ramming into the black dog with the force of a sledgehammer before kicking off the side of the Pokemon, launching himself into the air.
The hound yelped in pain and staggered a step to the side before it recovered and refocused. It let out a growl that Vito could swear actually made the grass around it tremble, before glaring at Pikachu. It opened its mouth wide, and from within, a swarm of crackling embers shot out towards his Pokemon.
But Pikachu was fast, far faster than the Houndour. Loud zaps momentarily filled the air as the Pokemon gathered energy into itself, then unleashed a Thundershock at the Embers. Lightning met fire, and a burst of sound rushed through the clearing as the two moves explosively countered each other. Heat washed out over the arena, grass charring and thick smoke wafting through the air.
Vito instinctively covered his mouth even as his breathing quickened. He was unable to see through the smoke. His eyes flashed, and memories tried to steal forward, distracting him for just long enough that-
“Houndour, use Smog on the battlefield!”
The other mobster had entered the battle.
Vito silently cursed himself. The smoke made it hard to see, and he’d let himself get distracted way too easily. Now, he had no idea what the battlefield looked like. The only alternative was to retreat— albeit momentarily. “Pikachu, back up! Follow my voice!”
Two opponents at once… Vito had never even participated in a proper Pokemon battle against another Trainer. It would be his luck that his first ever battle was going to be a double battle against two mobsters.
His gaze darted around, but there was no sign of blue fur. Frère was nowhere to be found. Hopefully, he or Emile would appear and help out.
There was a soft whuff of air, and Pikachu darted out of the smoke. Vito shook his head and slapped his cheeks. There was no time to get distracted—by now, the smoke had mostly faded, the grass had charred away, and he could just see the two mobsters through the smoke, and that meant they could see him, too.
“There he is, Houndour!” The mobster on the right cried. “Use Smog as well! Focus on their location!”
Both of them were using Smog. The move didn’t always poison a Pokemon, but in an environment like this, already covered in choking smoke and with two Pokemon focused on trying to get them, he wasn’t going to bet on Pikachu’s resilience. They couldn’t afford for the gases to choke his airway or send his stomach throbbing with nausea.
“Get to the trees as soon as the smog gets close,” Vito whispered. “Move as fast as you can, got it little buddy? We can’t lose here.”
Pikachu nodded.
Violet gas was streaming out of the two Houndour’s mouths already, the lurid smoke lending the entire battlefield a vivid coloration. It spread, covering the distance alarmingly fast with every passing second. Soon, it’d be close enough that it wouldn’t be just Pikachu worrying about the smog, except-
“Go!” he yelled out, then started moving backward himself, trying to get himself as far away from the poisonous smoke as he could.
It all happened within a fraction of a second. Pikachu used his tail as a spring and flew into the air, avoiding the smoke entirely. The move was aimed smoothly, landing him directly on a springy branch which in turn threw him further up, onto a branch high up in the trees— giving him the perfect vantage point from which to launch an attack unseen by their opponents below, who were now struggling to see through both the fading smoke and the thick smog covering the battlefield between them.
That gave Pikachu enough time to focus on building the charge for his attacks. A second passed, then two, three-and the air crackled as a bolt of lightning, far bigger than the previous Thundershock, tore down and slammed into the two Houndour below. Each beast let out a pained yelp, and the acrid smoke stopped pouring out of their mouths as they staggered, looking around in bewilderment.
But one of the mobsters was cannier—enough to see the rough direction the move had come from.
“Dammit, he’s in the trees! Ember, Houndour! We’ll burn him out!” The left mobster shouted. He gestured up at the trees, and Vito could almost see Pikachu’s eyes widen comically wide from here as he had to scramble to avoid the attacks.
Both Houndours turned and began to move backward, away from the sickly violet smog and they once again opened their mouths, unleashing small pellets of flame in slow yet accurate bursts. They kept their distance from the smog, making sure that a stray flame wouldn’t set the entire Woodlands on fire.
Pikachu’s movements were slow. He had only moved like this once, and it was during his battle against Frère, which was a much different battle compared to this one. Still, he managed to barely keep ahead of the embers, though the heat of some lightly charred his yellow fur, turning it to a sickly black.
He jumped from one branch to another, ensuring their weight could hold him while simultaneously gaining his bearing after jumping on such a thin platform.
Had the Houndours’ attack been faster, Pikachu would have certainly been hit, so moving from branch to branch was necessary, along with the fact that the electric type wouldn’t last long in close quarters against the two dogs, who not only outnumbered him but outclassed him in bulk.
However, the violet smog that had covered the battlefield had started to dissipate, revealing brown, lifeless grass underneath their feet. Seeing this, the Houndours had no reason to be so slow and careful with their attacks.
“Move underneath the trees!” the Mobster on the right commanded. “We’ll burn him from below!”
The right Houndour did as it was told and moved underneath. It raised its head and began to blast embers from below, targeting Pikachu. This time, the embers came faster and were just as accurate as before.
Thankfully, though, Pikachu had gotten used to the thinness of the branches, and now that he knew they could hold his weight, his movements became faster. So fast, in fact, that he left trails of afterimages as he moved across the trees and jumped up and counterattacked with a Thundershock aimed at the Houndour below!
The Houndour on the left took advantage of the second that Pikachu was still and immediately pelted Pikachu with as many embers as possible, all launched at speeds faster than gunfire.
“Pikachu!” Vito cried as he watched his friend be sent flying, falling into the bushes below.
“Good job!” the mobster on the left shouted and turned his head towards Vito. “Now, finish the job.”
Vito’s heart stopped in place.
The Houndour on the left smiled as it stepped forward… then began to move.
Time stopped for Vito as he watched the Houndour leap into a running start. Saliva dropped from its mouth as it ran forward, salivating at the idea of its fangs tearing into flesh.
He took a step back. He couldn’t fight against a Pokemon, especially one as vicious as Houndour.
Vito’s heart pounded further and further as the Houndour came closer and closer, it was all going to end here…
Suddenly, a yellow blur from his right darted out of his vision toward the Houndour. It had the speed of a freight train, and Vito saw it had the same force as one when he saw the blur slam into the Houndour.
Pikachu!?
Vito’s eyes widened as he heard a loud crack from the impact and saw the Houndour’s teeth fly from its mouth. The dog let out a high-pitched yelp before it was sent flying, body crashing into the grass and skidding across the ground, leaving a small trail of dirt.
“Holy shit…” he remarked as he looked down and saw not Pikachu but Psyduck, who was flat on his stomach. “Psyduck! Are you alright?”
The trainer got down to his knees and pulled Psyduck up, and Vito smiled as he looked at the duckling’s wide white eyes.
Psyduck tilted his head, letting out a simple quack as he planted his hands on his head.
“You saved me… thank you,” Vito said.
Psyduck tilted his head again, this time to the left, and fell silent. Then he smiled and gave Vito a thumbs-up.
“Can you fight? I need your help,” Vito requested.
Psyduck did not audibly reply. Instead, he turned around and stomped forward, letting out a loud battle cry.
Vito smiled, but the rustling of bushes soon redirected his attention to the left, where he saw Pikachu step out on all fours with gritted teeth. His yellow fur, once pristine, was now covered in black soot from the embers.
Good. This was an even fight now, he thought with a smirk. He would have to trust in Psyduck’s capabilities while simultaneously commanding Pikachu.
“Pikachu! Go in with Quick Attack, let's get some payback!” Vito commanded.
“Houndour, get up! You’re having duck for lunch!” the mobster on the right commanded.
“Finish up here, Houndour!” the mobster on the left shouted. “Burn this rat to cinders!”
The Houndour on the right soon got up. Its gait was slow and its balance waned as it wobbled, but it still managed to charge towards Vito.
Psyduck stepped forward and raised his hand before the Houndour, but his movements heavily contrasted with his attack from earlier. He was slow now, and that sluggishness allowed Houndour to pounce on him.
Psyduck cried and struggled, flailing his body about but to no avail. He let out an ear-piercing scream when Houndour bit into his arm.
The black dog smiled as it held the yellow duck’s arm tightly with what few fangs it had, happily enjoying Psyduck’s suffering.
Psyduck opened his mouth and let loose a Water Gun. It was a small yet steady blast of water that hit Houndour's square in the chest.
The black hound loosened its grip, yelping and crying out in pain. Its meal was so close, it could taste it, yet this water stream was pushing it away!
Pikachu sped towards the Houndour on top of Psyduck while avoiding embers being fired by the other dog further away. Sparks crackled from his cheeks as he zigged and zagged, leaving afterimage after afterimage, and soon slammed into the mutt’s side!
The Houndour released its grip on Psyduck and was sent flying once again, and while it didn’t fly as far from when Psyduck hit it, the fire type was finally knocked unconscious.
“Dammit! Kill them, Houndour, kill them!” the left mobster screamed.
The sole remaining Houndour widened its eyes as it looked at the two, but leaned forward and let out a growl. However, it was not as menacing as before. The Houndour was all alone and weakened, and no matter how furious it was, it was outnumbered.
“Alright you two, get him!” Vito commanded.
Pikachu was the first to move, becoming a yellow blur of motion. Sparks crackled from his cheeks and charred the grass, turning it from a light brown to a dark disgusting black. The electric type then slammed into Houndour, rubbing his cheeks against the beast’s dark fur.
Houndour cried as electricity coated its black fur and electrocuted every muscle in its body, and tried to bite at Pikachu only for the electric type to jump in the air to avoid its vicious fangs, and as it looked forward its eyes widened in sheer terror as a Water Gun suddenly impacted it!
“Good job, Psyduck!” Vito cheered.
Houndour was pushed back by the water gun and opened its mouth, red hot flames formed from the fury of being humiliated were soon to be launched at Psyduck!
However, before the beast could attempt to burn Psyduck alive, the yellow meteor above that was Pikachu fell on top of Houndour, slamming his entire weight into it!
The dog let out one last pained whine as the yellow mouse stood on top of it. It opened its mouth and let out a weak flame that was put out as soon as it was unleashed, and finally, it rested its head against the grass and closed its eyes.
The sound of trees and bushes rustling was heard from afar, and soon the many grass types who had been away for so long appeared behind the mobsters!
“So, what was that about killing me?” Vito smiled as he stepped forward.
“Shit!” the mobster on the right shouted as he returned his Houndour into his Pokeball. “This job’s a failure, we need to get back.”
His comrade nodded his head in agreement and he returned his Houndour as well, then turned his head towards Vito.
“You got lucky, brat,” the mobster said as he reached onto his belt and pulled out a small capsule. “We’ll be back, with a lot more men this time,” he declared as he soon threw the capsule on the ground.
Smoke emanated from the capsule, pitch black smoke that spread across The Woodlands. It was so dark and thick that Vito couldn’t see through it, and he was only able to hear the crunching of grass beneath his feet as everything erupted into chaos.
Sunflora, Dolliv, and other grass types cried and shouted as they tried to prevent the mobsters from leaving. Vito couldn’t see what they were doing, but judging from the noises they were shuffling about, trying not to hit each other in their attempt to prevent the intruders from leaving.
Suddenly, a cool yet familiar chill crept in the air, and as Vito moved out of the smoke, he saw Frère move about through the bushes, chasing after the mobsters.
“Get 'em, Frère!” Vito cheered as he ran to the far right and entered the bushes. He moved underneath the trees and chased after the Glaceon. It didn’t take long for him to feel the reassuring weight of Pikachu, who had jumped from the smoke and onto his trainer’s shoulder.
“Shit, they’re coming after us!” one of the criminals shouted as he reached into his pocket.
“That Pikachu is tired out, focus on the Glaceon!” the other said as he reached into his pocket as well.
Both pulled out small, albeit clunky pistols from their side. They were bulky in design, but the sight of them alone made Vito’s heart stop.
“Shit!” he cried as he ran to the side, using the trees as cover. His heart pounded like a drum, and Vito looked at Pikachu and pointed at the trees.
The yellow mouse jumped up and began moving from tree branch to tree branch, using them as cover while simultaneously following Frère.
Those were guns, actual guns. Why the hell were they strapped? Why were they even here to begin with?
Vito peeked out from his cover and saw the mobsters running, trying to avoid Frère, who easily appeared in front of them in barely a second.
One of the mobsters pointed his pistol at Frère and immediately fired at the Glaceon, the pistol letting out a soft pop as it went off, then another.
Wait a minute. Guns were supposed to be extremely loud. These weren’t, instead being so quiet that their noise didn’t even compare to the most basic Pokemon moves.
Vito’s eyes widened as he suddenly heard a scream, and when he looked forward, he saw that one of the mobsters’ hands had been frozen.
A Thundershock soon came from the trees and impacted the other mobster, but before the mobster fell, he fired his pistol.
Frère fell, two darts lodged in his body.
“No!” Vito shouted, and his eyes widened as he stepped out from his cover. Adrenaline fueled his body as he moved to the Glaceon’s side.
How could this have happened?
The mobster breathed heavily as he stood up and started to run, stumbling every time he used his right foot to move.
“Come on, Frère! Look at me!” Vito shouted.
Frère growled and moved about, his chest heaving up and down and his pupils dilated as he let out deep breaths.
Just where the hell was Emile Hawthorne?
The Wandering Teacher
Lantana
The Home of Aldo De Luca
Aldo De Luca sighed as he sat before his desk and rubbed his temples. The day wasn’t even close to being over, and yet he felt tired. From the mess involving the facility to the murder of that kid… what was his name again?
He shook his head and let out another sigh. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the cause; it didn’t matter how many people he had to put out of their misery or how many wrongs he had to commit. Only the cause mattered to him.
Aldo looked around his office. His Houndoom was resting peacefully in a bed near the window to the right, where he could feel the sun’s warmth against his body. Then there was his Bisharp, who stood at attention to Aldo’s left.
Houndoom had gotten a little lazy over the years, and Bisharp was still the uptight soldier he had always been.
Aldo felt like he was both. Here he was, a soldier playing at being a mob boss, fighting against the very Legion he helped bring into the world and the oppressive League, whose actions condemned Graecia.
He disliked the idea of it, but it needed to be done. Someone had to do it, after all, and nobody could do it better than Aldo. That was a fact.
Houndoom’s ears perked up, and he suddenly raised his head, briefly staring at his master before barking out loud.
Aldo turned his head towards his friend. “What is it, boy?”
Friend was an understatement. Houndoom had been given to Aldo by the Enotrian Military back when it was still a thing and he was conscripted into it at the age of fourteen. He had grown from an annoying Houndour to Aldo’s partner, his brother-in-arms, if you will.
Houndoom barked again.
Aldo sighed. Sure, he may have been partnered with the dark type for years, but sometimes he still didn’t know what he was trying to communicate. The dog’s red eyes were either devoid of emotion like they were now or full of rage and hunger.
Before he could respond, he suddenly felt a tight grip on the back of his neck. Aldo’s eyes widened in surprise as he felt the air leave his lungs.
Bisharp stepped forward and pointed his arm of sharpened steel at the attacker’s side, but he dared not go any further.
“I gotcha!” the assailant said with a rather cheerful Galarian accent. “But where’s kitty? You have him always by your side… or he’s laying in your lap.”
The assailant let go of Aldo and suddenly fell over into his chair, happily resting his body on The Don’s lap while resting his head and feet on the chair’s arms.
“Zoroark,” Aldo greeted as he rubbed his bruised neck. Damn kid, he was going to get himself killed.
He looked down at the Pokemon. He had used illusions to take the form of a human that was highly reminiscent of his species, with dark hair wrapped in a low ponytail with red highlights, along with a dark outfit to boot. His red eyes stared into the soldier’s blue.
“I hope you won’t cry when Bisharp eventually stabs you one of these days,” Aldo commented. “As to answer your question, Meowscarada is taking care of a very important task on his lonesome. He won’t be back for a while.”
Though, he did miss the grass type. Meowscarada was always a nice lap cat… even if he could be too much from time to time.
“Aww… I wanted to play!” Zoroark whined as he shifted around, letting out a huff as he brought his arms to his chest.
“I’m sorry,” Aldo apologized as he patted the boy’s head.
Lupa’s sake. Zoroark had evolved during the war, and he still acted like a child… It was amazing how Ombretta allowed him to act this way, but who was he to judge?
“Zoroark, you know you’re not supposed to be here unless it’s important,” Aldo calmly chastised. “Your mother would be furious if she knew you were here.”
“But mummy is asleep, and she told me to come here!” Zoroark said. “Oh right!”
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope. The action was completely in line with humans, but everything Aldo saw was an illusion.
Aldo raised a brow as he took the envelope, slowly opening it before reading the contents inside.
“Mike Uniform has been requested,” Zoroark said. “Mummy has approved of it, so we need you to activate them!”
In the letter, a single target was listed, along with a photo of him…
“Emile Hawthorne” was the name of the target, and in the photos shown, he was in Enotria alongside what Aldo presumed to be a teenage boy… a very familiar one in fact.
“Zoroark, who is the boy in this picture?” Aldo calmly asked.
“Ummm… Vito I think? That’s what mummy’s Honchkrow said!” Zoroark replied, cheerful as ever.
Aldo’s eyes went wide, and he lightly pushed Zoroark off of him before reaching into his desk, pulling out a simple laptop that he opened up.
Zoroark’s illusion faded, and what was once a young fourteen-year-old became a fox-like creature that stood on two legs and had black and red fur, with his dark mane wrapped in a ponytail.
The creature growled, and then, with his illusions, made himself appear in his previous form.
“What was that for?” he complained as he glared at Aldo.
“Apologies Zoroark, but I believe your mother’s interests and mine are co-aligned,” Aldo said as he began to boot up the old security software that was still within the facility.
Several of the cameras were down in the east wing, courtesy of the Tangrowth that had gone berserk, but there were still a few left, and according to Underboss Verga, motion had been detected.
Men were being sent to deal with it, but if Ombretta thought that this man needed to go then they wouldn’t be enough…
He checked the security camera, and there he was: a man with long dark hair standing side by side with a Gardevoir, in his hands a Turtwig that probably wasn’t even a year old.
How strange, he was told that the Turtwig had never been acquired.
Other men were present, all of them were down on the floor alongside various Murkrow and Houndour.
Killing him was a failure, and now there was a strong chance his operation in Lantana would be exposed.
Aldo reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and called his Consiligere, a trusted strategist during the war and one of his few “true” allies within his criminal empire, Afonso Esposito.
The call was answered upon the first ring. Afonso was good like that, absolutely loyal to Aldo and always on time; he never missed a call or disobeyed an order.
“Yes, Signore?” Afonso called out.
“Activate Mike Uniform. Tell them they’re going hunting.”
