Brock looked different from what I expected. Similar enough to his pixelated representations that he was still recognizable — the same squinty eyes, spikey hair, and earth-toned outfit. But this real-world version of him was...well...real.

He was the first character from the games or show that I’d met in this world, and the absurdity of it hit me like a ton of bricks. Was he just a game character, with pre-programmed likes, dislikes, strengths, and weaknesses? His entire life and personality nothing more than ones and zeros? If he was, what did that make me? A ghost in the program, just waiting until I made a big enough splash to get noticed and deleted? It was an existential crisis I’d thought I’d addressed and put behind me during the first few months after I’d woken up in this world, but I evidently wasn’t quite as well adjusted as I’d thought. Thankfully, the presence of the two adults didn’t allow me to spiral too far. “What can I do for you? Anything wrong with your order?” Sal asked.

“No, it’s great, steelidon is loving it,” Brock responded. “There were a couple of held items that caught my eye the other day, though, and I thought I’d come by to give them another look.”

“Of course,” Sal answered. “Give me a few seconds to get this customer settled and I’ll be right with you.”

“Take your time — I wouldn’t be a very good gym leader if I couldn’t tell a smooth stone apart from a rocky helmet by myself,” Brock responded with a chuckle.

Sal’s smile was stilted, seemingly a bit bothered to leave such a prestigious customer on his own, but he eventually turned back to me.

“I see two different jades listed here,” I hurried to ask. “Is there a difference between them?”

Sal nodded. “Jadeite and nephrite jade. Pretty similar overall in terms of quality. Nephrite is cheaper and a bit tougher than jadeite, but it’s a little less hard. Jadeite is what most people think of when they hear ‘jade’, and its got more of the distinctive jade colors.”

I nodded. Nephrite jade seemed like the best option, then. Of course, I was still taking Sal at his word about the properties of all the different kinds of rocks or what was ideal for a sableye’s diet, but the presence of Brock — the rock-type gym leader — went a long way to vouch for his trustworthiness and expertise. And the fact that the ‘ideal’ gemstone for Sableye was looking to be much cheaper than diamonds or even the other jade option helped boost his credibility.

Unfortunately, ‘cheaper’ didn’t mean ‘cheap,’ and my finances weren’t near enough to afford nephrite jade in the quantities Sableye would need.

“Er…I don’t suppose you have any deals for trainers on their journey?” I awkwardly asked.

“No, sorry, no deals,” Sal responded with a small frown. But then his eyes flickered over to where Sableye had his face pressed to the glass of another display case. “Although...I could use a pokemon like your sableye in the mines. No, I’m not asking for another trade,” he hurried to add after seeing my face. “I was thinking of something more temporary — a trade of services, if you will. In exchange for the nephrite jade, your sableye comes and works for me for a few days, depending on how much you need. We can hash out exact amounts, but as a starting point, I’d say three days of work is a fair trade for a month’s feeding supply.”

I’d been ready to decline on the spot, but at the mention of the amount I hesitated. That would be huge for my finances, and I doubted I’d ever find a better deal. It would suck to lose Sableye for three days of training, especially at such a critical time in his development, but getting him on the optimal diet — with a guaranteed continued source of that diet — would more than make up the difference, at least in terms of power.

There was really only one thing left to check.

I took a step closer to Sableye before kneeling down to be closer to his diminutive form. He’d evidently heard at least some of our conversation, because he’d pulled his attention away from the shiny rocks and was looking back and forth between me and Sal.

“What do you think, Sableye? In exchange for some good rocks to eat, would you want to work for this man a few days in his mine?”

Sableye shrunk down, his hunched posture becoming even more withdrawn, and he physically flinched when I said the word ‘mine.’ I waited for a few seconds when he didn’t respond, during which his large, gemstone eyes darted back and forth as if searching for an escape.

I sighed. I couldn’t say it was a surprise or that I blamed him, considering his history. But a small part of me had hoped. He hadn’t directly answered my query, but his body language was all the response I needed.

“Sorry, no deal,” I said as I turned back to Sal. I pulled out my wallet, did some quick mental calculations, and plopped all but a single bill onto the counter. “I’ll take six ounces of nephrite jade, please.”

Sal was frowning, but he nodded, collected the money, and then walked into the back of the shop to collect my order. It was almost physically painful to see the last of my cash disappear, but I would be fine. It cost nothing to set up a campsite outside of town and I still had plenty of cold rations and normal pokechow in my backpack. The six ounces of jade should last Sableye around three days, and we could probably double that time with some judicious rationing. It wasn’t ideal, but Sableye could survive on just regular pokechow if it came to that. It wouldn’t be pleasant for him or help his future battling prospects, but he wouldn’t go hungry.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

I had almost a week to make more money before it came to that. As Sal returned with the ordered jade and I left the shop to find a bench outside, I considered my prospects. It wasn’t ideal — in all my preparations, I’d never considered that I would run out of money so quickly. But neither had I expected to burn through all three of my pokeballs in the first couple of days or for one of my newly caught pokemon to have such an expensive diet.

I could, of course, always call home and ask my parents for money. My parents weren’t rich, but neither were they poor, and nephite jade wasn’t that expensive when you didn’t care about having it cut and shiny and set into jewelry. But along with my own natural reticence to calling home and asking for money, there was a stigma to trainers doing so.

It was impossible for the league to enforce, but the general expectation was for trainers to allocate a certain amount for their journey and when it ran out to return home. Originally, the practice was intended to act as a ‘time limit’ for those trainers who weren’t progressing, preventing lazy trainers from treating their journey like a never-ending vacation. Those trainers who were competent enough to keep earning gym badges should also have been competent enough to earn the money they needed to survive, either through battling or other means. It was a lesson on economics to go with the lessons on life and pokemon the trainers were already being taught.

Of course, similar to regular life or economics, things were rarely so fair. The tradition put no limits to the amount of money someone could start with, nor were there any actual regulations preventing trainers from calling home for more. Not that I could throw stones — similar to the bus situation, I wouldn’t hesitate to flout tradition if there was truly need. My parents probably wouldn’t even be annoyed — I’d asked for hardly anything from them prior to leaving, convinced that Hobbes’ and my years of battling experience would see us through despite our comparatively minimal starting funds.

And perhaps it was just the stubborn teenager in me, but I still wanted to prove that confidence to be well-founded. It would be tricky, as without a safety net a single bad loss could drain everything I had left. And my confidence in Porygon and Sableye securing battle victories wasn’t nearly as high as my confidence in Hobbes. But I believed we would be able to make it work.

I heard footsteps approach my bench from behind, distracting me from my plans. I looked up to find Brock — Gym Leader Brock, I mentally corrected myself, since no good could come from treating the powerful and respected gym leader like a familiar cartoon character — standing over me.

“Hello. I’m Brock, Pewtor City’s gym leader.”

“...I know,” I dumbly replied. And then I shook my head. “Sorry. I’m Marcus, nice to meet you.”

“Ditto,” Brock replied with a smile, his eyes flashing to where Hobbes was still perched on my shoulder practicing small-scale uses of transform. And then he looked at Sableye, quietly sitting on the bench next to me. “I saw what happened in there.”

…that felt a little rude, pointing out our poverty, but I didn’t let the friendly smile fall from my face. “It’ll be tough, but we’ve been training and working on our battling strategy. We’ll figure it out.”

“I’m sure you will. But...” He paused, leaned in close, and lowered his voice. “...what if there was another way.”

If this were any other world, or if it was anyone other than Gym Leader Brock, that would’ve been my cue to run off screaming. But this was the pokemon world, where each teenager had a menagerie of superhuman bodyguards. And this was Brock, one of the most reliable and ‘normal’ of the gym leaders. So instead, at a similarly quiet tone, I replied, “What are you suggesting?

“A job,” Gym Leader Brook answered, standing upright and speaking at a normal volume. “Recently, we’ve had quite a few reports from young trainers running into town from the slopes of Mt. Moon, terrified for their lives and thinking a legendary pokemon was hot on their heels. Yet when questioned, none of the trainers could provide a reliable or consistent description of their pursuer. So, I would like to hire you to find the source of these accounts, be it a wild pokemon or some other source. And, if it is within your capabilities, to pacify it. You will be paid, of course — I was thinking a starting flat payment of four hundred pokedollars, with potential bonuses upon completion?”

Four hundred was the exact amount Sal had quoted for a month’s supply of nephrite jade — I was sure that wasn’t a coincidence. I squinted at the gym leader suspiciously. “Why me? Doesn’t the league have rangers, or gym trainers, or YOU to solve issues like this?”

“Sure, we could probably get to the bottom of it. But, not to brag, my time is valuable, and those others you mentioned only slightly less so. And while this mysterious assailant has left many trainers and their pokemon scared for their lives, none of them have actually been injured, nor have there been any recent missing persons reports in the area. I‘m authorized to hire out journeying trainers for missions deemed to be ‘low-risk,’ which this one appears to be. And as for why you specifically? A number of reasons.” He held up a hand with three fingers raised. “All the reports so far have come from new trainers fresh on their journey — the cause of these frights seems to be targeting the young, which means you have a better chance of stumbling upon it than me or most of my gym trainers.” He lowered the first of his fingers. “I’ve got a sneaking suspicion you’ll be capable of handling this issue.” The second finger dropped down. “And finally, and most importantly — I think you deserve the chance.” He lowered his hand and looked at Sableye. “Believe it or not, there unfortunately aren’t too many trainers who will put their pokemon’s comfort above their own, especially younger trainers with new captures. It’s a mindset that, I believe, should be rewarded.”

There was a beat of silence, a pause during which I eventually realized he was waiting for my response. I glanced to Hobbes and then to Sableye, meeting both their gazes for half a second before looking back at Brock.

There was really only one thing for me to say.

“I accept.”