INTERLUDE - RATS

"Your move, Dan."

The woman, who looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties, threw some dice on the table. They were old, with little ridges embedded in the wood and the digits almost lost to time, faded into the surface. She ended up getting two sixes, a five, a three, and two ones, meaning that she'd won again.

"Bullshit," Abel spat. "You're fucking cheating."

The Ditto's empty stare stayed the same, but her grin widened to an unnatural extent. Abel leaned back against his chair and put his feet on the table. The faint sound of an old police thriller played in the background, illuminating the dimmed living room he found himself in. All the windows of this apartment were closed, not letting any sun shine through. The few rays that did showed how dusty the air was, but Abel did not mind. He pulled out a cigarette and tried to light it, to no avail.

"Shitty fucking lighter," he sighed.

Smoking is bad for your lungs. I foresee a gruesome death from cancer in the future if you live that long, Xatu spoke into his mind with only her right eye open.

"Way to sour the mood," Abel smirked. "How old will I be?"

Unknown. I feel a death with no regrets, but I have been known to be inaccurate in the past when predicting far-flung future outcomes.

"S'alright. I know you're trying your best."

Your affection is appreciated, Abel.

Abel was a slippery man. No matter what jam he found himself in, he usually always figured a way out and odds were he'd be richer by the end. This time, he'd found himself in quite a jam, however. League Trainers skulked through Veilstone's streets day and night with their psychic and dark types because of Arceus damned Team Galactic. Sure, they paid well and he worked with them frequently, but holy shit, could they be annoying, and they were batshit insane. Teleporting back to Unova was impossible. It was across the ocean and eleven hours by plane. Xatu was good, but no psychic type was powerful enough to Teleport that far without intermediate jumps, and good luck doing that across the ocean. People knew his face, so leaving the region by commercial airline was impossible as well. No other rich prick was crazy enough to get him a seat on one of their private jets, and though mind control was an option, the government had tightened security so much that those flights were checked too.

Case in point, he was trapped in Sinnoh like a rat.

But it wasn't like he'd considered leaving anyway. Not before he got one more word in with Clarence at the very least.

Abel would get paid in full. It was less about practicality and more about making a point.

He took in a deep breath, and the smell of musty air filled his nostrils as he heard someone step behind him.

"Abel, dear? Are you hungry?"

He turned toward the old woman flanked by Malamar. The dark type stared at him with a wicked grin. He took great pleasure in this, but Abel did not particularly do so. Most of the time, it was just work, but right now it was simply a way to stay hidden for a while.

"No thanks, Grandma," Abel answered. "You go and rest, alright?"

"Sure thing."

Mind control was a funny thing. The closer Malamar stood to the subject, the more power he exerted over them. Around five thousand feet, and he would lose control completely. Still, it was important for him to play his part. If the controlled person was suddenly exposed to something unusual— say her quote on quote grandson was suddenly extremely rude to her and told her to get lost— then the shock might break her out of Malamar's spell, and controlling someone right after they'd just snapped back to reality was almost impossible. That was why Abel had to play his part, and why Clarence had wanted to keep his damn daughter away from her friends after the procedure, along with him wanting to keep up public appearances, of course.

But mind control also took Malamar's focus. Hours spent keeping the subject completely still as he analyzed every inch of their brain, slowly worming his influence in every corner until they became his.

"Stick around."

Malamar nodded and slowly walked behind Abel. Unlike Xatu, he could not speak telepathically. It was a cruel twist of fate, that his dark typing interfered too much with the psychic waves he needed to form words. Xatu shot him a dirty look, but stayed silent. Dan's skin bubbled as she excitedly jumped up and down her chair.

"It's about time we go see that damned rat," Abel declared. Xatu sighed, her right eye open while her left one once again remained closed. Malamar's two tentacles throbbed with excitement. "It's going to be tough. The fucker's under house arrest and guarded by at least fifty League Trainers, according to Zazza and Kecleon. A tough nut to crack, but we've dealt worse in Unova. He's low priority, and that means we can slip in."

How had Zazza and Kecleon figured that out? Well, Abel had a lot of tricks up his sleeve. He turned toward his oldest companion and steeled himself.

"Are you ready?"

For once, Malamar's permanent grin faded and he only nodded.

He knew when to take things seriously.

"Xatu. What do you see?"

Out of ten futures, you get caught by League forces in four, the psychic type immediately answered with her right eye shining and throbbing. In all of them, you indulge in excess hubris and fight instead of running away when you get caught and captured. It is too far for me to see clearly, but your end comes soon after. It is painful.

"Memory extraction, no doubt. And the other six?"

One where you slip through unmarred and undisturbed. Two where you manage to find a way in after fighting your way through, but I sense injury… I am unable to tell if it would be fatal. One where you are found out before getting in, but get to Clarence Obel's chamber regardless. Another two where you fight your way in, but you perish fighting. In all of them, your plan is kidnapping.

"You're getting better. Kidnapping is the plan."

There was only one future where he wouldn't get found out. That meant that nine times out of ten, there would never be enough time to get Clarence to give him his money, especially if that rat stalled for time.

Of course, you would. It is writ in the stars.

"Don't get too reliant on your predictions, Xatu. You know that when you tell me the future, it is bound to change," Abel said.

It had taken her days to figure this out. The longer she analyzed the future, the more accurate it would be, but not even Xatu was foolproof. She was wrong often, especially when there were as many variables as this, and relying on her too much would bring his doom. Nine times out of ten, however, he would rather know than go in blind.

Alas, it is, Xatu said, finally opening her left eye.

"Let's go, then," Abel smiled.

He recalled all of his Pokemon but Ditto then released Zazza. The bipedal dark type grinned at him and bared her teeth. Her crimson hair was resplendent, even in this dim room and it flowed freely down her body. Abel felt at his ten Pokeballs for reassurance as Zoroark's form slowly changed. Strange panels of light flipped all around her, revealing her chosen human form. Ditto followed suit and did the same. They looked… somewhat similar. Dan changed into one of his child forms unknown by the League, becoming a little six-year-old boy with dark hair while Zazza became an adult woman with a striking resemblance.

Ditto could only transform after touching a person or a Pokemon's DNA, which was why Abel stored at least fifty different strands of hair in zip locks inside of his bag. Zoroark, meanwhile, could become anything she wanted at will. She didn't even have to use someone as a model, in fact. She'd adapted her current transformation to mirror Ditto's so they would appear related.

Dan let out a small gurgle of annoyance.

"You'll go back to being a girl later, alright? We ran out of hair and the League knows all of your little girl forms."

Ditto was a moody Pokemon. At times, she wanted to be a girl while at others she wanted to be a boy. She despised being in her original Ditto form or another Pokemon and spent almost all of her time as a human, which meant that she never fought. When he'd first gotten her, Abel always referred to her as a boy, which was why her name was Dan, but these days he called her whatever gender she felt like being that day after Xatu and Zoroark kept screaming in his ear about it for weeks. It did get confusing at times, especially when she changed her mind multiple times in a day.

Unova's most wanted criminal walked out the door of an apartment he did not own and said goodbye to a grandmother that wasn't his. He had other hideouts, but the odds of the League knocking on an old woman's door was a lot lower, so he often lived in other people's homes, especially old people. She would wake up when they got far enough and would not remember anything about him. The brain was a funny little organ. Instead of having a hole of time, like she'd fallen asleep and woken up, it would try to fill in the gaps with things that didn't happen.

He was in the clear.

Abel cracked his neck. This was going to be tough, but all of his life he had gambled, and it had not failed him yet.

—

Veilstone wasn't as good of a city as Jubilife or Hearthome to get lost in, but it would do the trick. Abel had changed his haircut, grown out his facial hair, and wore sunglasses to hide his identity. Zazza had a bored look on her face, while Dan stared at the concrete city in awe, as he usually did. Clarence's mansion was in the city's south, where most rich people lived because it was away from the never-ending noise of Veilstone's industry and the polluted air that clung to the city. The further north you went, the more factories there were and the poorer people got.

Clarence's mansion was still at least an hour and a half away by foot, but Teleporting there would be impossible. First, neither Xatu nor Hypno had ever been there because there was no way in hell Abel was going to have his only two Teleporters away from him. He had considered sending one and keeping the other, especially since Xatu could levitate, but he didn't want to take any risk. The League knew that he owned a Xatu, now. They'd be suspicious of any lurking around Clarence's mansion. Hypno, meanwhile, wasn't very good at Teleporting anywhere further than she could see.

No. It would be best if they arrived on foot.

Abel held tightly onto Zoroark's hand while she held onto Ditto's. It was funny, how inconspicuous 'couples' with a 'child' were to the average person. It was why he'd almost always had Dan in a child's form when they were out— well, that and she couldn't speak properly yet. She was a rather recent addition to his team and was still young. Zoroark, meanwhile, was one of his oldest and could speak perfectly when in human form despite hating the practice, so she usually stuck to grunts and barks unless the situation demanded for her to speak.

"Aw, he's so cute!" A woman said, looking at Ditto. The normal type's smile immediately shrunk to a realistic proportion, but he was careful enough not to let any sounds slip. He'd already cost them information when he had infiltrated Cecilia Obel's room by getting too excited, and Abel had nipped that behavior in the bud. The woman's… husband shot Abel an apologetic look.

"He really is!" Zoroark beamed. "He can be a little much sometimes, but he's a great kid."

Dan frowned and hugged Abel's leg, feigning shyness like he'd taught him.

"D'aww. How old is he?"

"Honey, we should go," the man tried.

"He's six," Abel said. His eyes narrowed when he saw a League Trainer missing half his face towering over some pink-haired kid with a Gardevoir. "And you'll have to excuse us, but we're a bit busy."

He'd passed by multiple League Trainers on his way here, but that Gardevoir had looked right at him. He didn't like that one bit.

They had no time for idle chit-chat, and the longer he stood still, the higher chance someone had of figuring out who he was. He sped up, ignoring the woman's complaints at her husband about trying for a child. The League knew Abel was in Veilstone due to his many jobs for Galactic, and they wouldn't hesitate to track him down. He'd be forced to Teleport again right away if he could even do that. The sheer amount of dark types the League had shoved in the city was hampering Xatu's long-range Teleportation, meaning that instead of whisking him away immediately, she'd have to concentrate on where to go for multiple seconds. A possible death sentence in the heat of battle. If she couldn't do it, then there was no way Hypno would be able to. While Malamar specialized in fighting and hypnosis, Xatu in Teleportation and predicting future outcomes, Hypno specialized in mental barriers instead.

Hypno had met Charon's Hypno a few times, and she hated that little psychopath.

When he was twenty minutes away from the mansion, Abel decided that it was time to spring to action. The blocky, artificial design of the city had bled away and led to winding streets and an ample amount of greenery, mostly through the form of gardens for the people that lived here. Some of them even had pools. Veilstone was relatively warm thanks to being a coastal city, but it was still February, so these were mostly empty, as was most of the street aside from the occasional person or car driving through.

"Stick to the plan," Abel said, his face still staring straight ahead. "Dan, you're going back in your Pokeball."

The normal type protested, unable to hide the angry burst of purple below her skin. Zoroark hissed and bumped her on the head, stopping her instantly and Abel thanked the dark type with a small nod. They couldn't be found out this early.

"You can't fight. You'll only slow us down," he continued. "We'll be fine. The others will keep me safe, and we'll get our money. I'll buy you whatever you want when we're out of this hellhole."

Ditto's skin returned to normal, and he returned to his Pokeball without objection. Abel fiddled through his Pokeballs, using the little scratches on the metal to discern which was which. He found Kecleon's Pokeball thanks to the particular spot of chipped paint near the top and released the normal type.

His tongue lolled out of his mouth as he instantly changed to the sidewalk's grey color. Abel sat on a bench, content to let him out in the open thanks to his team's general secrecy. Only four of his Pokemon were known after so many years as a criminal, and if that wasn't a fucking proof of his talent, then nothing was.

He sat on the closest bench on the sidewalk, pulled up one of his burner phones to appear busy and spoke to his two Pokemon.

"Keep Kecleon hidden," Abel told Zoroark before turning to Kecleon. "Don't get too close to the mansion, or they might find you out regardless. Just make sure the number of guards is the same. If you aren't back in thirty minutes, I'll assume that you were caught and I'll come to try to save you."

The woman grunted, all too happy not to have to speak, and Kecleon stayed quiet but slowly turned invisible. Arceus bless him, he was one of his biggest assets, but he worked best with Zazza thanks to her incredible control of the dark.

Dark types were a psychic's biggest weakness. Whereas ghost types appeared as holes in the world to their senses, meaning that they could still easily be found with enough practice, dark types just weren't there. Completely unable to be found through any kind of psychic sense, even from Elite Four level trainers.

He would know. After all, he'd escaped Caitlin once. Unova's psychic specialist of the Elite Four whose Musharna had warped and twisted her so much that she could battle and function while she slept. That had been a close one. Zoroark placed a hand on the invisible Kecleon's head, shrouding him in dark type energy and rendering him truly invisible, muffling the sound of his steps and breath along with the aforementioned immunity to being found by psychic types. Abel could only guess if the normal type had already begun to run toward the mansion. Still in her human form, Zoroark sat next to him, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

He had to stop himself from smirking at her irritation. She didn't like it very much when they pretended to be a couple, and neither did he, but it was work.

His entire adult life, Abel had walked a tightrope. Close call after close call, disasters barely working out in his favor and escaping through the skin of his teeth. All for a single goal.

Money, and a cozy retirement to Alola for him and his team. They were the only proper region with no extradition laws, and also a hell of a tax haven. He wasn't about to move to Arceus damned Almia, Fiorre, or Oblivia. He'd heard of fellow criminals slipping through the tightly closed borders, but that life wasn't for him. What Abel wanted was to live on a yacht and drink away the rest of his years.

He'd be happy dying of lung cancer if he could have a few decades of that.

By his estimation, he'd been another five years of big jobs until he was ready. Parts of him regretted taking this path sometimes. Despite what they believed, trainers here were poor as sin despite all of their sponsors. Even that man Craig Goodwill was fucking poor compared to trainers of his level in Unova and Galar. The best ones there lived like Arceus damned kings. A single yacht? How about ten? How about a private island? More money than they could spend in a single life? That didn't count the Elite Four who were just as rich, and so were the Gym Leaders, despite them pretending to have jobs. The thought alone made him laugh.

Yes. Maybe if he had taken the correct, legal path, then he would have been there already. But it was too late, now. Abel had made his choice at the young age of sixteen when his Inkay evolved and he was in too deep to stop. He would do whatever was needed— with a code of honor, of course. He was unlike those other criminals that he frequented at the start of his venture into this business. People would often tell him to just control people into giving him all of their money or other crude ideas, but Abel did not go after the innocent so long as he was not paid to do so. He was simply an enforcer. The executioner. He was the gun, and his employers pressed the trigger.

Exactly fifteen minutes and thirty-six seconds later, Abel felt a touch on his knee. Kecleon had always been a punctual one. The normal type reappeared and quietly whispered a few words.

"There are still fifty guards. Fifty-one, to be exact," Zoroark translated. "He had to wait until ten of them came out and switched posts with ten that were outside, but there may be more that he couldn't see. He also tells you that he is tired of doing so much of the scouting and wants to laze around in the sun as a reward."

"Sorry, but you're the best at it," Abel said. "Rest up for now."

He recalled Kecleon. Abel might have had ten Pokemon, but only five were actually capable of battling at a high level, while the other five were mostly used for utility. He knew he was weaker than a member of the Elite Four even though he could escape them with their tricks, but he reckoned that he'd be able to give a gym leader's true team a run for their money and even win against some of the less annoying ones in Unova.

As for Sinnoh's Gym Leaders? Well, he didn't know much about them.

"Time to go, Zazza," Abel said. "Would have killed to have a smoke, but it is what it is."

"I'll go buy you another lighter when this is over if you don't tell Xatu," Zoroark said. "She'll scream my ears off."

"She'll figure it out anyway with that left eye of hers."

The left saw into the past, and the right saw into the future, Abel reminded himself. The more complicated the question was, the less reliable predictions would get, but her past perception was crystal clear. She was able to recall what a person had done their entire lives, if she was given enough time to study them thoroughly. That had been useful on many occasions in his career. One time, he had needed the code to the safe of some company's hedge fund manager swimming in cash, but since he'd needed to be in a meeting in an hour and a half, Malamar's mind control would have been too slow. Of course, that was before he'd owned a Klefki.

"There it is."

Clarence's vacation home was so beautiful that it was irritating. The exterior was adorned with high-quality stucco, exuding a sense of sturdiness and sophistication. Elaborate architectural details such as ornate columns that held up the entryway, intricate moldings, and decorative crevasses and bumps added a touch of regality to the structure as if he was fucking bragging, screaming about how rich he was at the top of his lungs. It was a home he wished he could live in. The garden was grand too. The expansive grounds were meticulously landscaped, with lush green lawns, vibrant flower beds, and perfectly manicured hedges. Tall, majestic trees line the perimeter, providing shade and an added touch of privacy. Hell, there was even an outdoor patio, and who could forget the massive pool right next to it?

Even from afar, it seemed like it was inviting him inside. He was still far enough from the structure, but he knew that it wouldn't take long for some patrolling League Trainer to rear their heads as soon as he entered the massive gates to the property. He discreetly released Hypno, who blinked at him and gently rubbed her pendent with her fur.

"Do me a favor and fix up that mental shield. It's been a while since you renewed it."

Hypno rolled her eyes, and Abel's head suddenly felt very cold. No, his head was the wrong way of describing it. The inside of his head— his brain felt cold as psychic energy wormed itself through his skull and gently enveloped the organ. Then another layer. Then another. Five layers of mental shields later, Abel was ready.

The more layers a psychic added to someone's brain, the more unstable the entire structure became, and if it collapsed… well, it wouldn't be pretty. Hypno was a professional at barriers, however, and she would be ready to get up to six soon.

"Feel like you can Teleport me up to the right facade?" Abel asked, pointing slightly more than half a mile in the distance.

He would have to be quick. Because like all dark types, Zoroark couldn't be teleported. This was the most sensitive part of the operation. If they were too slow…

They'd get caught immediately.

Hypno nodded.

"Good."

Abel recalled Zoroark, and before he could even blink, he was next to the mansion. The sound of a few talking League Trainers was to his left, probably on the front yard while he could hear the faint sound of a fountain to his right.

Zoroark came out again right away and shrouded all three in darkness. Before Hypno felt too much strain, he recalled her as well. They'd practiced the motion so many times that it barely took half a second. Half a second for a psychic to have sensed them.

Abel waited, his hand on Machamp's Pokeball, but none of them came.

Step one was complete. Now, he needed to get inside. He hadn't teleported here by random. There was a large window that he could easily climb in, but it was obviously locked from the inside. That was nothing that they hadn't gotten past before.

A Klefki appeared in front of Abel. The steel type's face was perfectly still, unable to change due to his internal structure, but he knew from the little jingle created by his ten keys that he was happy to see him. Abel did not even need to verify that Zoroark was keeping them quiet. He trusted in her skills too much for that.

"Unlock the window," he immediately ordered. Smashing it or forcing it open might have been too loud even with the darkness' dampening effect, and if anyone walked past here, they'd known someone had broken in.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

It had been ten seconds since they'd gotten teleported here.

No one could keep a door closed from Klefki, and a window counted as a door. The fairy type softly tapped one of his keys on the glass, and they all heard a clink. Abel quickly slid the window up and jumped into the mansion's interior. He was in one of the side rooms that flanked the foyer in the distance, and it appeared to function as some kind of pseudo-living room. There were couches all around a coffee table, along with a luscious carpet below them.

Luckily for him, the majority of League Trainers were outside and not inside, but he'd still have to be careful. According to Kecleon, only forty-one were littering in the garden. That meant that he had to watch out for ten people and their Pokemon.

He quickly got away from the door and the window. Once he got out of this room, there would be no more stopping. It was all or nothing.

In nine futures out of ten, he was found out in some way, shape, or form.

Abel usually wasn't nervous, but by Arceus, these kinds of jobs were the ones that made his fingers shake.

"I fucking love gambling," he said, clenching a fist around Kecleon's Pokeball.

They used the same trick, rendering him completely invisible to eyes and psychics as he scouted the inside of the mansion. Clarence was currently showering on the second floor while two League Trainers stood guard in front of his bathroom. Five others were in the foyer, one leaning next to the entrance and the other next to the stairs up. The other three were scattered along the rest of the vacation home, patrolling as they pleased and making rounds around the entire place.

There was only one dark and one psychic in the mansion too, although it was possible that they had more that they simply hadn't released.

Abel smiled as a bead of sweat dropped down his cheek as he recalleed Kecleon. He could exploit this. It would have been easier if Zoroark's small shroud didn't interfere with his psychic types so much, but he did have Malamar.

He was borne both of dark and psychic. Unable to use Teleport, but still able to function in Zoroark's shroud. He released the psychic type, along with Machamp. The hulking mass of muscles was Abel's best physical fighter along with one other Pokemon. Even slippery people like him needed power to back them. In his line of work, fights were bound to break out.

Abel whispered, "Insulate the room."

Abel's eyesight grew blurry for a few seconds before returning to normal, and Zoroark could finally take a break. Keeping up such a strong and large veil and having shrouded Kecleon did a number on her, and her breaths had grown ragged.

It took five minutes for the first League Trainer to enter the room. He was accompanied by a Kingler that crawled all along the wooden floor, scuttling as its eyes darted around the room independently from each other.

The moment he stepped into the room, they struck. Malamar dragged the trainer toward him while Machamp and Zoroark worked together to knock out Kingler. The fighting type restrained it with his two upper arms while constantly hitting him with the other two, while Zoroark pushed a Focus Blast into its back.

"Knock him out— never mind."

The trainer was already asleep, thanks to Malamar's Hypnosis. He placed him on one of the couches and waited for another to come in.

One by one, they all fell into his trap.

—

Once he'd dealt with the three patrolling League Trainers, more came to investigate. He managed to take down six in total before he decided to simply go out there and brute force things. It wouldn't be good if they got too cautious and called for help from the outside. Once Kecleon reported their position, he used Zoroark's shroud once more and went on the aggressive, taking down the last four trainers with Machamp, Malamar, and Shedinja. The bug type was his fastest Pokemon and could easily overwhelm all of his enemies, using Wonder Guard for protection. So long as Malamar kept the trainers from moving to release the rest of their teams and he had the numerical advantage, he would win.

Abel left them where he'd met them. It would be too suspicious if the psychics outside sensed that all trainers had bunched up in a single room.

He reveled in Clarence's look of horror once he stepped out of the bathroom, his hair still wet from his shower.

"A—Abel—"

"Yes," he tiredly said. "I told you I'd get paid."

Clarence stared at the knocked-out League Trainer on the floor along with his Durant and audibly gulped.

"I can't pay you, Abel. I'm stuck here, and you insist on getting paid in cash. The League would know if I retrieved the large sum you've asked."

"Oh, I know. I'm asking you to contact someone from Unova to do it for you. It'll be quite easy. I have a burner phone with me, and all you have to do is tell them to fly out here with the cash and hand it to one of my associates. I know your bank accounts aren't being tracked in Unova."

And Arceus, was carrying so much cash a pain in the ass. Abel had multiple safe houses he kept his money in, but he'd have to figure something out for when he managed to find a way back to Unova.

Clarence's face scrunched up. "Fine. Who should I call?"

"Oh, I don't know. Your wife, maybe? Or someone you trust with your damn bank account information, I don't really care. Just make sure they're trustworthy. By the way, we're leaving."

"I don't know if they'll answer an unknown number—"

Abel quickly clicked his tongue and clasped at the man's face tightly with a single hand.

"Shut the hell up."

His mind flashed back to what Xatu had said. Kidnapping. He was taking too long because rage was clouding his judgment. The original plan had been to just slip away with Clarence, leaving everyone with their lives because he didn't kill unless he was being paid exorbitant prices. This was just revenge. A one-man show that only involved him and Abel. He didn't feel like murdering a bunch of rookie trainers.

He released his Xatu, much to Clarence's terror.

"Xatu. Bring us back to base," Abel said, recalling his other Pokemon. His brain was on autopilot. He'd done this so many times that it was just as quick as breathing.

Negative. Empty matter is currently swarming the building. I am unable to look into the future or the past, but it would be wise to assume that reinforcements are coming.

Her voice was jittery and like static to his mind, but he could tell from looking into her eyes that she was worried.

"Well, damn," he said, suddenly feeling very exhausted. "Knew it was too damn easy. They knew I was in there and were springing a trap. Let's see me get out of this bind, eh?"

I would recommend running.

"You ruin the fun in things," he irritatingly waved at her as he leaned against the wall. "Put on some clothes, Clarence."

"What—"

"Put on some damn clothes. I don't feel like seeing you naked for however long I'll have you with me."

The older man very quickly scrambled into the bathroom and was so nervous he struggled to dress back up. Abel released four of his fighters and stared into their eyes.

Malamar. Zoroark. Shedinja. Machamp.

"Hypno and Xatu aren't going to be here because of this dark bullshit," he smiled thinly. The psychic wasn't great at battling, but having psychics to keep him protected was an advantage he'd be foolish not to use. "Machamp, you grab the old fool. Keep him alive and don't snap him like a twig."

The fighting type licked his lips and grinned as he extended a limb, picking up Clarence and putting him over his right shoulder like a worn rag or a bag.

"You're going too far, Abel. Men like you—"

"There are no men like me. Only me," he raised a finger. "Shedinja, battling dark types is going to be tough for you, but you're quick enough to dodge most of what they throw at ya anyway. Don't get hit."

The husk of the empty, decomposing shell stood completely still while his halo glimmered slightly. Putrid odor and noxious liquid oozed from his pinhole eyes, and he was pretty unsettling to look at for too long, even after having owned him all those years.

"Malamar, your psychic attacks are going to be fucked for a little, but you're you. Brute force it and knock those trainers out," he said, taking a deep breath. "If that doesn't work, well… kill them. One good Dark Pulse should be enough."

Malamar smirked and let out a little cooing sound. He always liked when they were in deep shit.

"Zazza, you stick close to me and counter the attacks they throw. We know that they've made a perimeter around the building since we haven't gotten attacked yet. Or maybe they're on the first floor waiting. Either way, I'm letting Mimikyu out to play."

Xatu and Machamp's faces fell, but they knew it was necessary.

Abel released his last fighter.

"Pika?"

The sound of a Pikachu emerged from Mimikyu. It was so convincing that even Abel would have found himself hard-pressed to figure out the difference between a real cry and the fake one. Her tattered, ghostly cloak clung to her malformed body with childlike drawings of what a Pikachu should look like. The fabric, decayed and frayed, hung in disarray, exuding a cold air that made Abel shiver. Beneath the cloak, only fragments of a face dared to emerge. A pallid, withered visage, distorted and contorted, peered through the veil of darkness. Her two eyes, deep and cavernous voids that looked like drawn swirls onto a dark surface reflected an abyssal emptiness that deeply unsettled anyone who dared look at her. Jagged teeth jut out from its twisted maw below the costume that would consume anything that would approach.

"We're fighting. Keep your head in the game. No unnecessary killing, not when we aren't getting paid."

"Pika! Pikapi!"

Abel recalled Xatu, then strode through the hallway and down the stairs.

—

"̶̧̢͖̭̩̙͓͎͓͇͕̥̭̣̬̀͊̏̋̓͆̽̊̍͂Pi̴̡̢̱͉̞͖̋̂̾̈̂̀̓̊̍̍k̸̰̬̩̻̪͖̱̹͗̈͋̏̅̀̽a̵̢̞͔̳̰͉͔͇̻̟͑͆c̷͎̦̏̉h̵̡̨̪̥̱̗͗̐̑̏̀͋͜͜͝ù̵̃!̴̺̟͊͌̃̊̃̓̾̔̏̇̎͗̕͝ ̷̧̦͖̱͕͙͗̐̀́͒̈́̀̏̉̀̌̀͜͝P̷̛̝̖̳̌̈́̍̌̄͂̈́̉̉̕͠͝͠i̴̡̤͕͖̬̼͋̉̔̾̒̇͛̆͐̓͠k̶͈̳̩̙̰͉̉̾͜͝ã̵̩̟̘̗͐́̍̀͋͝!̷̺̩̺̞̤̜̹̩̬̳̄̑̒̇̉́̉̓̕͜ͅ"

Mimikyu tore through an Umbreon's flesh with a sharpened Shadow Claw, her cuteness from a few minutes ago all forgotten now that someone had knocked her mask down. Her cries were a distorted, rageful thing. Shadowy tears somehow streamed down her ragged cloak, the drawings having etched themselves on thereafter she had gotten hit. Malamar's eyes shone, his strong psychic abilities surprising the mass of League trainers and restraining them by lifting them in the sky. Malamar knew how to push through dark type bullshit thanks to understanding how it functioned.

His Hypnosis quickly put five of them to sleep at once. An eerie light appeared above Shedinja and hovered right in front of a Persian's eyes. The normal type snarled at the Confuse Ray and began attacking its trainer, who screamed in pain as a Slash tore through her chest.

In a way, fighting in melees like this was safer than not. You couldn't use flashy moves and tricks in battles without risking your own death or friendly-fire incidents, so they tended to be rather simple and restrained to normal, non-destructive moves.

These League Trainers were recruits. Unrefined and unprepared. Their Pokemon were almost good enough to stand where he was, but they themselves were not. They were too green. Too unfocused. There was a world's difference between doing fancy tricks during training and doing it when your life was on the line.

But that did not mean it was easy. A Hitmontop spun on its head and its kicks somehow easily countered his towering Machamp's strikes. The fighting type let a flurry of kicks fly focusing only on Machamp's knees, and he got down on one knee before a focused beam of poison hit him in the arm and melted off his skin. Now finished with her Umbreon, which now lay lifeless on the ground with its chest barely rising and lowering, Mimikyu's claw turned to a vibrant pink as she began to clobber Hitmontop with Play Rough. Zoroark's eyes shone as a Protect appeared around them, barely shielding Abel from a beam of frigid ice. A Glaceon's Ice Beam hit the barrier until it was exhausted, and she countered with Dark Pulse. The rings of void intertwined and slammed against its icy hide, leaving an opening for Malamar to put Glaceon to sleep.

Abel's eyes darted around the garden. Only two dark types left now that Umbreon had fallen. That should be enough to Teleport away, but he needed to find an opening for it. He was currently holding his own, but he wasn't winning. The first wave had been relatively incompetent, but these new trainers knew what they were doing. He did not even flinch as Zoroark weakened a Centiskorch's Flamethrower with a Dark Pulse, leaving Malamar enough time to alter its path. He still winced at the heat and felt some of his skin burn.

His eyes narrowed when he saw a Mismagius take down his Shedinja with a single Hex. It had tried to place him under an illusion multiple times, but Zoroark had quickly nullified it. Shedinja's husk now turned lifeless, its halo disappearing, but he recalled it before it hit the ground and released Xatu.

"Start charging up a Teleport. On my go, you whisk us away," Abel whispered. Xatu was good, but she couldn't Teleport all of his Pokemon at once, especially when that Absol and Honchkrow were still leaking dark type energy like a motherfucker. The sky was not dark as he had heard it had been in Solaceon. The things that Shiftry had done couldn't be replicated, but it would still hurt her concentration. "Stay focused. No accidents."

Of course, she answered, her voice distorted.

The League Trainers redoubled their attacks now that they'd seen his Xatu, and Mimikyu was starting to get overwhelmed by sheer numbers. He bit his lip and recalled all of his Pokemon at once. Clarence fell onto the floor and yelped in pain, but in a flash, they were gone. Back at one of his hideouts, this time near the Game Corner.

Abel, however, felt like his waist was hot. He touched it and realized it was bleeding. He'd gotten hit by something before Teleporting away—

He fell to the floor and panted. His waist was on fire and he writhed in agony.

"Looks like you were right about that damned injury, Xatu. Release Machamp for me," Abel said with ragged breaths.

Clarence said nothing as Xatu levitated the Pokeball and released the wounded fighting type.

"Machamp. Patch me up please."

The fighting type grunted and got to work., ignoring the wounds she had taken in the battle.

Let me remind you that you have a meeting with the lunatics in one hour and a thirty-seven minutes, Xatu's voice rang out.

"Don't call them that. Only I call them that."

Still, Abel internally sighed. He hadn't forgotten, but he did wish it could be tomorrow instead of today. He didn't want to come at them in a position of weakness, and coming wounded certainly was that. Sending Zoroark was technically a possibility. Her mind would just appear blank, as if he'd had a mental shield put up— and he would go in there with Hypno's shields. There was no way he'd ever meet with these crazies without protection. The problem was that Zazza would definitely mess up somewhere. She didn't know how to behave like he did.

Abel winced as Machamp gently cleaned the deep cut on his side. He took off his shirt which was now soaked with his blood.

"Yeah, I'll get there," he finally answered. "After a short break. I kicked the damn hornet's nest, so the streets are going to be crawling with League Trainers, and you got hit as well, so you should recover. Don't want to mess up Teleportation. One of the most gruesome ways to go."

The man let out a few shallow breaths

"Why, Abel?" Clarence sighed. His defeated tone felt like bliss to Abel. "Why go so far? You've endangered yourself and for what? Money? Do you think they'll let anyone have access to my bank accounts after this?"

"Don't be stupid," he smiled. "I know that was the original plan, but you must have cash stored somewhere. Men like you are too paranoid not to have an off-ramp in case everything goes to shit and you need to flee somewhere."

Clarence said nothing, but the weakness in his eyes betrayed him. Abel recalled Machamp to let him rest. He'd been hit hard by that poisonous attack and his knees were injured as well.

"You're an open book. Call your wife, Clarence. If you don't, I'll just have to leave Malamar here to work on you. By the time I'm back from my meeting, you'll be under his complete control."

"Very well… I will call my wife and get her to take the money, but it's the middle of the night in Unova, so she may not answer. where should I have it sent to?"

"You'll send it nowhere," Abel said. "I have an associate in Unova that she can hand it to. Sung Chin-Ho. I'll call him first."

Clarence winced at the name. Sung was another well-known Unovan criminal that Abel had worked with in the past. He was trustworthy, and he owed him a favor. People in this line of work knew not to cross others that had helped them before, but there was still a bit of doubt in Abel's heart. Right now, he was stranded in Sinnoh, and Sung might get a big head and take the money for himself. Unfortunately, he was the only one Abel trusted to be good enough to escape a potential trap. He grabbed his burner phone and dialed his colleague's number.

"Come on, Sung," Abel muttered. "Answer."

His body untensed when the rings stopped. Sung didn't speak, of course. It'd be stupid to speak first when an unknown number was calling.

"Sung. It's Abel."

"Well, well, well," he jeered. "The trapped rat himself. How's Sinnoh treating you? I hope you're enjoying your vacation in that uncivilized cesspool."

"This is no time for jokes. I'm cashing in that favor now. I need you to pick up some money for me— cash. You'll need to stash it until I come back. "You'll pick it up on the outskirts of Castelia, 30 Stoneybrook Road."

Sung paused. "What's in it for me, Abel? See, you've left quite a hole by leaving dear Unova. People are scrambling to fill it and enrich themselves. I carved out a good little niche in Castelia, and I'm making more money than ever," he said. "The longer you're stuck in the boonies, the better it is for me."

"I saved you from getting caught, and this is how you repay me?" Abel hissed. "You're an honorless worm, Sung."

"You know how it is, Abel. It's just business. I could have said yes and taken the money for myself, so consider the favor given."

He sighed. "It is."

Sung hung up, and Abel slammed a fist against the decrepit floor of his hideout. He'd been so close, and yet he was stuck.

"I presume it didn't work out?" Clarence said.

"It didn't. Don't think you're out of the woods," Abel muttered. "I'll think of something. I always do. For now, why don't you stew on your thoughts in silence."

"Have you seen where your quest for revenge brought you, Abel? You are still stuck here with no way out. You are a maniac with no sense of self-preservation. What good is honor if it gets you killed?"

"Don't get cocky now," Abel said, his expression growing dark. "And don't think I won't kill you because I spared… most of those League Trainers and their Pokemon. Business is business, but there are always accidents."

That seemed to shut him up. It was about honor, but also principle. What good was a man who couldn't pay his bills and went back on his word? Now, he wasn't actually planning on killing him, but Clarence was too much of a wimp to think for one damn second.

What about asking him for transport back to Unova? Xatu asked.

Abel chuckled. "Come on. For all your precognition, you think too simply, Xatu—"

Do not get smart with me, or I will leave little Dan in your permanent care. Do not think I cannot convince Zazza as well, she said, closing her left eye. The probability of her agreeing is high.

Abel smirked. "You couldn't have figured that out in that little time, but okay, okay. Really, there is no way the Sinnohan government will let any private plane from Unova land without thoroughly checking the intentions of the pilot. It'd be a trap. I barely managed to scrape by against some rookies from the League."

Very well. Rest, now, Abel. I shall analyze the probability of you dying in your meeting. It would be a shame if you did.

"Come on, Xatu. Don't get soft on me, now."

I will not allow you to perish. You will die old and miserable, but we will all be there with you. Now sleep. Your injury is worse than it looks.

He did not fall asleep, but he did close his eyes.

—

The probability of your death at the meeting is at eleven percent and rising, Xatu finally said. We must make haste. Are you ready?

Abel stared at Clarence Obel one last time. He was tightly bound, gagged and he'd triple-checked to see if it was tight enough. He considered letting one of his Pokemon stay back, but he felt vulnerable without all of them by his side. Plus, Shedinja was down for the count and Mimikyu and Machamp were wounded.

He'd need all of them for his meeting.

"Sure thing," he sighed. "Arceus, I fucking hate Team Galactic."

After twenty seconds, he blinked, and he was somewhere else.

Every time Abel met with Team Galactic, he found himself being less and less willing to work with them. They paid well and on time, but there was a reason he called them lunatics. Xatu Teleported him to one of the bases they always met in and Abel instinctively placed a hand on his Pokeballs. He didn't actually know where their main compound actually was and they didn't trust him enough to reveal that information despite them working together. This was a hangar of some sort next to an abandoned container terminal northeast of Veilstone that they had repurposed as one of their bases. It was grimy and dark, but it had all the space they needed for whatever it is they did in there. He hadn't seen most of it, only a few rooms. The one Xatu had brought him in looked more like an interrogation room than anything. A few steel chairs and a table. No windows, a dim hanging from the ceiling and a single steel door.

In front of him stood three of Team Galactic's Commanders.

The tallest one and only man called himself Saturn. His face twisted in displeasure as soon as he saw Abel appear. He was just as insane as Mars but in a very different way. It had taken Abel a while for him not to chuckle at that stupid fucking blue haircut. A Toxicroak hung by his side, clearly annoyed at this meeting.

Mars, meanwhile, happily called out his name as soon as he appeared. Whereas Saturn was standing, glaring with his arms crossed and his face twisting in anger, Mars was sitting and giggling as she tapped her feet on the floor like a little child.

"Abel! We heard about what you did, you're just so much fun all the time!" She cheered. "I wish I could do stuff as well! It's so boring these days, and Dusky's been getting hungry."

Dusky. The ghost that was always by her side out of his Pokeball. Abel knew exactly where he was thanks to Xatu continuously feeding him information. He was right above her, as always. Abel had never actually seen the ghost, but he knew how threatening he was. Mars was unhinged, but again, in a different way than Saturn.

Saturn gave no value to anything other than Team Galactic, including human life. To him, deaths were a statistic, and he despised Abel for his materialistic ways. If he could press a button that killed all of humanity, Abel had no doubt he'd press it so they wouldn't get in Team Galactic's way. They were like ants to him. He was Cyrus' closest Commander along with Charon, who wasn't here today.

Mars, meanwhile, knew lives to be valuable, which made her all the more terrifying. She had bragged to Abel about her singling out a single member of their organization and mentally fucking with them for weeks just to see what would happen, only to start over again with a new one when they broke or she got bored, much to Saturn's displeasure, and she also dabbled in physical torture of League members they sometimes captured just because she found it fun. She liked studying human suffering and took great pleasure in the minute details while Saturn looked at the picture as a whole.

Oh, and she was also fucking obsessed with Cyrus, Team Galactic's leader who Abel had never met.

But there was one more commander with them. Jupiter.

She was normal, oh, so normal, but that made her all the more horrifying for going along with this entire organization. Abel had talked with her the most, and sometimes he even forgot that she wasn't just an ordinary young woman. She had no Pokemon with her, it seemed. Charon was somewhat normal as well, but he walked a narrow path with a single goal in mind. Abel knew that look in his eye, but he did not know what the goal in question was.

He hated working with them. Their goals weren't aligned at all, but they paid very well. No one else in Sinnoh would employ him, and he was stuck here, after all. He didn't care at all about them potentially taking over the government. In fact, he knew it to be impossible— Xatu had said as much. Even if they did, they'd have a rebellion on their hands and the other regions would intervene.

They'd been virtually wiped out of eastern Sinnoh and were only able to conduct small-scale operations there, and they'd been reduced to hiding like rats in Veilstone. It was only a matter of time until the League brought the hammer down and destroyed their presence there entirely. Once they did, they'd be too weak to do anything else, so Abel wanted to milk them for all they were worth.

Eleven percent chance of dying, Abel thought. That number was no doubt faulty, but there'd been no time to study multiple futures so they had to make do with what they had. He stood up straight, hiding his pained side as best he could. He had to come to this meeting from a position of strength.

"Sorry I'm late," Abel finally said. "I was held up with something."

"You kidnapped Clarence Obel," Jupiter said. "It's impossible to miss. I have to say, I'm impressed. I wouldn't have wanted you to die."

"Appreciate that," he said. Before he could keep going, Saturn snarled.

"You egotistic, sniveling worm! Now the League will double— no, triple their patrols! I thought we told you to stay put and await your next orders! You've gone against Team Galactic. If it were up to me, you'd be dead where you stood."

"I am not subservient to you, Saturn. I have my own agenda and goals to accomplish, and I don't care if it means I have to step on your toes to get there."

Mars laughed. "Good answer! I would have asked Dusky to kill you if you got boring and apologized," she smiled. "You're always entertaining, Abel, that's why I like you."

"Now, now, let's all take a deep breath, okay?" Jupiter said, putting a hand on Saturn's shoulder. "The meeting was originally meant to give you a job, but we'd like it if you warned us before doing things like this. We're partners, right? It's only normal to warn each other."

"That's a fair point," Abel said. "What's the job?"

"Enough about jobs! Join Team Galactic already! You're nifty enough to be a Commander if you work hard and prove yourself," Mars demanded. Abel didn't miss the hungry look in her eye. She wanted him to be one of her toys, no doubt.

"I'm afraid It'd be better to work toward getting back to Unova," Abel said.

"Bummer," she pouted.

"You are to try to find out the progress the League has made regarding our bases, you miscreant!" Saturn exclaimed.

"That's awfully vague. These are usually a lot more precise."

"Saturn's not explaining it correctly," Jupiter said. "As you know, we've set up multiple bases, but only a single one matters to us—"

"The one I don't know about," Abel interrupted.

She smirked. "Yes, that one. Not even all of Team Galactic's members are privy to its location, so no hard feelings, yes? It'd be good for us if the government attacked one of these bases we don't care about. It'd release the tension for a while and it might even fool them into thinking they got us for a few days."

So they were buying time, then? What for? The longer they waited, the weaker they'd get, and hundreds or potentially thousands of their members would get caught in the raid. Abel didn't let the confusion show on his face.

"I wanna fight…" Mars sighed.

"So? Just send out some poor goon to confess and use them as bait. Doesn't seem like a job for me."

"The primary goal is for you to track progress on the main base," she said. "We'd never be able to do that. It would also help to know if they already know about multiple of our bases and are just waiting to strike or not. There are preparations that would need to be sped up, in that case."

"Fine," Abel grumbled. "But I want a higher rate. This is more dangerous than usual."

Saturn clicked his tongue. "Look at you. You are a simpleton only driven by greed. There is no higher goal to your life, no passion, no love. How pathetic. You will die without having accomplished anything—"

"Let's add five million to your payment, then," Jupiter nodded.

Abel restrained a smirk. They really blew money away like they didn't care about what would happen in just a few months. He knew they were making money, but there was no way they were making that much.

To learn about the League… well, he'd have to capture some League Trainer, get Malamar to control him and go from there. The problem was that the range meant that he'd need to be a few blocks away, and that was risky, but he'd figure something out.

"Sounds good," Abel nodded. "Is that it?"

"Yes. Thank you for cooperating," Jupiter said.

Mars raised her hand like a kid in school. "Wait! Could you catch someone for me?"

"Pay and I can do anything."

"Grace Pastel—"

"Absolutely not," Saturn shot her down. "Team Galactic will not allow you to play with a toy, especially one that's guarded by five Elite ACE trainers."

"Five? Never mind, then," Abel said.

"We wouldn't have paid you anyway," Jupiter shook her head. "She's been obsessed with this girl ever since Valley Windworks… it gets a bit much sometimes. Remember, Mars, Cyrus told us to stay put."

"Fiiiine. It's a bummer. She's been getting a big head and having too much fun lately. I want to ruin that little face of hers. My knife's been itching to cut her open—"

"I'll be off, then," Abel interrupted. "Next week, same time, correct?"

Saturn and Jupiter nodded, and Xatu Teleported Abel back to his base—

And then there was pain. Horrible, mind-bending pain.

He felt something squeeze his entire body like a vice, and he was too out of it to see what happened to Xatu. It was as if someone was stabbing his bandaged wound. A few rays of light, a bolt of electricity fried her and she was soon being held up just like he was. Unlike him, however, she squirmed and struggled. He could see agony flash in her eyes and after thirty seconds, a ghostly form slipped out of her, leaving her unconscious.

Had that been a Haunter?

"Let him move his face," a woman— no, a girl's voice said.

Finally, he could breathe properly again. He turned and saw a pink-haired girl sitting on Clarence's body. He looked terrified, but some pleasure slipped into his eyes. He was clearly happy to see Abel in this situation, and that enraged him even more. She had ungagged, but not untied Clarence, but he stayed silent anyway and tried to make himself as small as possible. A Gardevoir and an Alakazam stood by her side, their eyes shining as their combined force held him up in the air while a Magnezone floated close to the ceiling.

He'd gone soft. Overconfident after his recent victory. He should never have Teleported back without one of his battlers out with him. Abel struggled some more and tried to move his arms, but nothing worked.

"How the hell did you find this place?" He asked. The best thing to do in these situations was to buy time. People loved to talk, even when they shouldn't. He'd almost fallen victim to that with Clarence earlier. "What do you want?"

"That's a secret, but you can call it a lucky break," the girl winked. "Now, I have a few questions regarding Team Galactic, Abel, and you will answer them. This big guy over here," she paused, slapping Clarence on the face more than what was necessary. "Told me you just came out of a meeting with 'em."

"Who sent you?" Abel hissed. He remembered her face from earlier, along with the Gardevoir, but he couldn't place a name.

"I sent myself. Now, I recommend you talk fast. I have a scary League Trainer called Carlos on my tail and I only managed to slip past him because he didn't know about Alakazam being able to Teleport me places, and it turns out I might have had a few more guards than I originally thought. You know what happens if they get here, don't you? You get caught and your brain goes kaboom a few hours later," she said, mimicking an explosion with her hands. "Now, me, I'll just get scolded, but I can take the credit for catching you and that'll smooth things over. Since I'm a nice gal and I don't give a crap about you. I'll let you go as long as you give me what I want."

Abel bit his lip. She could have been lying, but he'd seen her with a League Trainer earlier today. All these years, he'd slipped past government authorities, rival criminals, gangs, a damn member of the Elite Four, and the one who finally did him in was a fucking kid because of his damn hubris. Judging by how slow Xatu went down to four of her Pokemon, he bet that he could have taken her with no problem if he could just get one of his battling Pokemon out of their Pokeballs. She was using the same trick he liked to do and he'd used on so many League Trainers earlier today.

He pushed and struggled for another few seconds. His arms and hands didn't budge one inch.

No matter how strong a trainer was, it didn't matter if you took their Pokeballs away.

"Come on, now. Chop chop!" She yelled, clapping her hands. "And don't even think about lying. You're smart enough to know what Gardevoir are capable of."

"What do you want to know?" He sighed.

She answered with a sheepish grin. "Now that was easy, wasn't it?"