Pokémon: Raising Abandoned Pokémon into Legends

Chapter 100: The Meeting

Saurion finally woke up from the hypnosis.

The moment he opened his eyes, he winced in pain. "Ahhh—oww..." The pain made him groan continuously.

He pulled a Poké Ball from his pocket. With a flash of light, a Typhlosion appeared. Using its flames, he was able to see the state he was in. First, there were three globs of sticky spit on him, then bruises all over his body—and finally, he remembered the female ghost crawling through the window before he blacked out.

"A Ghost-type Pokémon—it was definitely a Ghost-type Pokémon!" The young master’s body trembled with rage. Then he touched the sticky saliva on his body, his face scrunching up like a chrysanthemum. He retched violently.

Finally, he screamed in fury: "Who did this?! WHO DID THIS?! Don’t let me find out who it was—or I’ll skin you alive, rip out your tendons, and have Fearow peck your ass every single day!"

His enraged voice echoed through the forest, startling many weak bird Pokémon into scattering. Typhlosion stood there trembling.

After venting, Saurion picked up his shattered phone. Though the screen was cracked, it still worked. But when the screen lit up, the first thing he saw was his balance screen. What had been an eight-figure balance was now a single-digit negative number: 0.1 League coins.

"AAAAHHHHH!!!" he screamed again. "WHO DID THIS?! I’LL KILL HIM! I’LL DEFINITELY KILL HIM! I’LL MAKE SURE FEAROW PECK HIS ASS FOR ALL ETERNITY!!!"

After screaming, Saurion collapsed—he’d gotten so worked up he’d actually made himself lightheaded and passed out.

Meanwhile, on the road to Violet City, Rio sat in the passenger seat, listening to music and dozing off comfortably. The driver beside him sneezed several times in a row.

"Why do I suddenly feel so cold? ...Must be from that scare earlier—my body still hasn’t recovered. Damn it—I should’ve kicked him a few more times and spat on him a bit more. Too bad I didn’t get enough satisfaction out of it. But I suppose that guy was lucky to run into such a kind-hearted Young Master Goh. Otherwise... hmph, hmph."

Two days later.

The three trucks came to a stop on the outskirts of Violet City.

"You three have worked hard—driving for so long," Rio said gratefully to the three truck drivers.

"Not at all, not at all—Young Master Goh, you’re a valued guest of the Goldenrod Black Market. Serving you is our pleasure," the middle driver replied. The other two nodded in agreement.

Rio smiled at them and pulled out the ancient Poké Ball.

"Young Master Goh, what’s that? A Poké Ball?" one of the drivers asked curiously.

"That’s right—a Poké Ball from a hundred years ago," Rio said with a smile, as a wisp of pale purple smoke drifted from the ancient ball.

The three drivers watched curiously as the smoke coalesced into Haunter.

"Haunter—modify their memories. Change my appearance in the memory of this drive to that of Young Master Saurion from the night before last."

"Alright."

A moment later, the three drivers collapsed. Haunter used Psychic to move them to the roadside. Rio pulled out the Pokémon Hunter’s phone and contacted the group admin, letting him know he’d arrived at the location and was about a kilometer away.

After sending the message, Rio put on a Charizard mask—as required by the group. Every hunter participating in the operation was to wear a mask to avoid trouble afterward.

About ten minutes later, a sedan pulled up in front of Rio. Four masked people stepped out, led by one wearing an Electivire mask.

"Hunter H?" the man called out to Rio.

Rio nodded: "Hunter A?"

Hunter H was his codename for this operation. Each of the twelve members had a name—the group admin was Hunter A.

"That’s right." The Electivire-masked man nodded, then walked to the rear of the trucks and gestured for Rio to open the cargo doors. Rio pulled out the keys he’d obtained and opened all three truck doors one by one.

Soon, over seventy Electric-type Pokémon appeared before the four men. Hunter A nodded approvingly as he inspected them. But when he reached the third truck, he suddenly said: "Something’s wrong."

The other three immediately turned to look at Rio.

No way—he found something? Rio’s expression shifted beneath the mask, and his hand instinctively moved toward his belt.

"In the photos you sent, there was also an Emolga from Unova. Where is it?" Hunter A asked Rio.

"Uh... cough, sorry—I sold it. Someone offered a high price," Rio said, rolling his eyes behind the mask.

"Oh, I see—never mind then. I thought it was cute and wanted to give it to my daughter," Hunter A said casually, closing the cargo door. "You three drive. Hunter H, come with me."

"Understood," the three nodded.

Rio followed Hunter A, a look of exasperation on his face. Damn—that scared me. The Emolga was just some random photo I found online to post in the group.

Moments later, the three trucks followed the sedan and drove off.