-The Dragon King-

-Redline: Ch 2-

The Brothers war was an armed conflict between Kanto and Johto that devastated both regions and is widely believed to be the single largest loss of life in modern history. The war was fast but incredibly brutal, with Ace Trainers taking advantage of their flying Pokemon’s speed to cross Mount Silver and blitz into enemy territory before proper defenses could be rallied. A group of three Ace Trainers, with 18 Ace level Pokemon between them, could wipe an undefended town off the map in less than 10 minutes.

The “climax” of the war occurred when a young lieutenant named Surge went against orders to intercept and successfully fend off a raid by the Blackthorn Clan and their Dragonite, who had been beelining towards Saffron City- the largest settlement in Kanto.

For his insubordination, he was discharged from the military, but allowed to keep his rank. For his bravery, he would be awarded with his own Gym Leadership as well as named a Kanto war hero.

The fighting lasted just over a week, before abruptly cutting off. It cut off so abruptly, in fact, that Ace Trainers had to be deployed to physically pull military units out of attacks they had been ordered to do just hours before. The exact reasons are contested by historians, but within a single day both regions went from mobilizing into a war economy to sustain a long term conflict, to agreeing to an armistice and preparing a peace treaty to sign.

Some say it was divine intervention, some say it was the shock of the rapidly rising body count that ended the bloody war. But all we know is that the war simultaneously deepened the bitter rivalry between the two regions, while also cementing the status quo between them.

That status quo would remain unchanged, until a prodigy trainer would take the title of Champion for both regions, unifying the two positions, and inadvertently create what we now know as the Indigo League.

Mark quirked an eyebrow as he read over old articles on the Pokecenter public PC. Originally he wanted to get a better understanding of the recent history that had been going on before he landed here, but once he stumbled on reports about the last war, it had been the only thing he’d been reading about.

“An eight day war, huh? I wonder what made them stop. Definitely doesn’t sound like something that’d happen back home. Maybe the policy makers here are just wimps.”

The automatic doors to the building slid open, and he noticed Helena stagger into the Pokecenter, with leaves stuck in her messy hair, and overall just looking rather beleaguered.

Mark closed the PC and waved at her to come over as he walked over to a table.

“Just to be clear, that was actually your plan, right?” The Hex Maniac asked as she took a seat.

“Yup. It was a classic bait and switch. Worked like a charm, too. We drew her out, distracted her, then I went around back to the den, and snagged the cubs while she was gone.”

“That was dangerous, not just for me but you as well.” Helena said, not sounding particularly upset. “…Arguably you were in the most danger.”

Mark just shrugged. “I’ve been in way worse. It’s nothing new.”

Helena didn’t respond immediately, instead she just stared at his scars- specifically the grisly uneven skin that ran along his neck and licked up on the right side of his jaw.

Wordlessly she withdrew the pokeballs that Mark had entrusted to her, and handed them back.

“Thank you for having your Bidoof stay and act as backup, unfortunately they weren’t exactly as up to the task as you seemed to think they were. One of them got smushed.”

“Don’t worry about it, I got one KIA on my end as well. Ah, but that would explain why the teddy balls didn’t lock when I registered them. Three Teddiursa, two Bidoof, and one Shelgon- I technically only have six Pokeballs active to my trainer ID. Actually, it might only be five since Shelgon’s still in the clinic. Hmm, I’ll have to look into that.”

Helena’s face scrunched up in confusion as Mark popped open a soda can and leaned back in his seat, seemingly unbothered by losing two of his Pokemon. Then her face softened as an idea crossed her mind.

“…you’re no stranger to death, are you?” Helena asked, quietly, sympathetically.

“What’s that question for? Do I not look appropriately appalled? They were oversized hamsters. While the scale of Pokémon intelligence can match humans, and go all the way up to sentient supercomputer, I heavily doubt the fat rodents known for chewing on tree stumps are that far from rock bottom. They’re on menus, for fucks sake, right next to Mareep, Crabby, and Slowpoke.”

“You don’t have to pretend, or try to put on a tough act. I understand how it feels to lose people you care about.”

“You don’t know shit.” Mark leaned forward, elbow on the table, and jabbed a finger at her. “Let’s get that straight, okay? You don’t know where I’m from, what I’ve been through, or what I’ve lost. You don’t understand, you’ll never understand, so don’t play the fucking pity card on me. I don’t need it.”

“I-”

“Nuh uh. If you’re going to play that game, you can fuck off.”

His sharp glare didn’t seem to have the effect he wanted, instead of pushing her away, it just seemed to slide off her spirally deep purple eyes. Like water that only managed to wet the grass, instead of striking the dirt. Worse, she actually seemed more invested in the conversation than she had before.

Ah shit, she wasn’t one of those internet masochists was she? Where you couldn’t get them to go away by yelling at them, because they liked arguing?

Helena twiddled her thumbs in her lap, trying to put the words together correctly in her head in a way that wouldn’t embarrass herself like she usually did.

“You’re taking part in the gym circuit, right? That’s going to take you around the entire region, do you plan to try for the entire thing?”

“Of course I am, why would I start something that I don’t intend to finish?” Mark asked, slightly insulted.

“A-Ah, good point.” Helena ran a hand through her hair, wincing as her fingers almost immediately got stuck in her tangles. “Uh, I know this is a bit out of the blue, but I never actually, uhm, finished the circuit when I tried it as a teen. Would you mind if I, uh, you know, maybe tagged along with you?”

Mark’s glare sharpened, and she immediately backpedaled, waving her hands and stammering about how she would pay for her own food, bring her own tent, and wouldn’t be a burden.

Instinctively Mark wanted to kick her out, but he held himself back as the more… ambitious part of his brain started turning.

“-nd I promise you won’t even know I’m there!”

“Stop.” He cut her off. “You didn’t didn’t die to that Ursaring, so you’re most likely not a horrible fighter. You said you were in the gym circuit, how many badges did you get?”

“Four badges.” Helena answered. She fidgeted with her dress for a few seconds, hesitating before continuing. “However I no longer have the Pokemon that I used to earn them. But I assure you my current team is just as good.”

“What happened to your old team?”

Helena didn’t answer, she just stared down at her lap, and tightened her grip on her dress.

“Whatever, I’ll take your word for it. That said, you don’t seem particularly upset about me using you as bait, or my stunt with the Bidoof. Now that I think about it, you were also the one who suggested offing the Galactic grunts and dumping them in the woods, where no one would find them.”

Helena squeaked and sank into her seat, trying to hide behind her bangs. Meanwhile Mark drummed his fingers on the table and looked her over appraisingly.

It would be nice to have four hands on board when trouble inevitably reared its head again, and someone with knowledge of the common local shit he knew nothing about would help him dodge any easily avoidable mistakes.

“I’ll tell you what. You get a shot.”

“Really!?” Helena perked back up in disbelief. “You’ll let a Hex Maniac join you?”

“Sure. But there are rules. I’m the party lead, so you listen to me. When I say something you can question all you want, but you do it. I’m not a charity, I’ll cover the basics as long as you help out, but I’m not going to fund Barbie girl’s makeup kit. I also reserve the right to kick you out at any time. Got it?”

“Of course!” Helena leaned forward onto the table and nodded her head eagerly. Mark had to hold his composure to maintain eye contact, and not let his eyes drift down where the grown woman’s ‘developments’ were doing interesting things while pressed against the table top.

“Just a warning beforehand. I used to be in the military, so I’m trained to march for long hours and with short breaks. I’m not going to slow down much for you.”

“That’s completely understandable. Oh, I need to go call my landlord and start packing!”

Team Galactic knew her apartment address, and now had a reason to hold a grudge since she inadvertently helped Mark beat those grunts black and blue. If she was on the move, then they would have a hard time tracking her down, and would be much less likely to bother her with someone like Mark around.

Besides, if she stuck around him long enough, she might eventually get to see that Ghost Pokemon that had cursed him.

Helena couldn’t help but shiver at the memory of what she had felt appear during that gym battle.

“...You’re making a weird face. Stop that, people are looking at us funny. I’m already known as an asshole, I don’t want to have the rumors saying I’m a perv as well.”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

-Dragon King-

It turns out, trying to sell Pokemon for profit was difficult.

He’d asked Nurse Joy if she had any tips, but all that got him was an angry glare and some snide comments. That caused him to look it up online, only to find that the selling of Pokemon was frowned upon in most places. It wasn’t illegal, and breeders specifically were apparently an exception to this rule (everybody loved them), but the practice of hunting down rare exotic Pokemon and catching them to pawn them off was seen as “barbaric” and “two steps from poaching”, according to news articles.

In Unova the practice was heavily regulated, but Sinnoh’s hands off approach to most things meant it was basically a free market here. So that was a rare stroke of luck to Mark’s name. But that still left him with a problem- he had just invested all his money on getting product that no one wanted to buy.

“-and I’m telling you, this is the best deal you’ll ever find! It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, we’re talking pennies on the dollar! …no pennies, I said pennies not Phanpys. PENNIES. It means it’s cheap! Do you not know what a penny is? …Hello?”

Mark cursed and slammed the Pokecenter public phone back into its holster, as the line went dead.

“What a load of BS. I would have shelled out cash for a free Teddiursa towards the start of Platinum. It’d at least spice up the defacto Starter-Starly-Shinx lineup that always happens.”

He sighed and marked off another number on the list of businesses he’d found online- now over three quarters scratched out. But before he could dutifully carry on, he was interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind him.

“There are other phones open, what do you want?” He grunted as he turned around, but instead of an angry grandma or entitled brat, like he was expecting, he found a man in a dark suit and a black fedora.

“What an unintentionally philosophical question. Can anyone ever be certain what they want? Personally I like the thought of making enough money to retire early and never have to worry about anything ever again.”

The man smiled, and Mark recognized him. It was the guy he’d saved from that random Galactic grunt.

“Yeah, well, I also like the idea of being filthy rich, but I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon.”

“You say that, but you’ve also made a remarkably ambitious step towards that goal. Not many have the guts to steal cubs out from under an Ursaring’s nose- especially not with only a single badge to their name. I’m impressed.”

“Impressed. I don’t see why, not even the chumps over in Eterna city are biting.” Mark rolled his eyes before pausing. “Wait, how do you know about that?”

“It’s my business to know things, and make friends with the right people. I couldn’t not hear about the rookie trainer who bested one of Byron’s oldest Pokemon, and then marched around the entire city, going door to door trying to sell untamed Teddiursa cubs, freshly stolen from their mother.”

“Don't get all high and mighty with me, not when you just admitted your life goal is money.”

“I would never dream of doing such a thing! I’m merely trying to say that, you, my friend, have exotic product on your hands, and need to market to a more sophisticated clientele than what you’ll find on the streets.”

The man pulled a matte black business card out of his jacket and handed it to Mark.

“My work planting roots in Oreburgh is almost done, but I still have a few days before I’m scheduled to redirect to Eterna city, and have more basic laborers pick up here. My office is in the freshly renovated warehouse on 7th street. Swing by this evening if you have the chance, my door is always open for business.”

The businessman tipped his hat, and left without another word. Mark watched him go with curiosity, before turning his attention down to the small unassuming card in his hand.

Max Mustermann was the name on it, which HAD to be a fake name.

It was bland and spartan in design, just bone white text on a charcoal background that gave him some basic contact information. It had some ruby lines pressed along the edges, but that was the only hint of color on the card.

Well, at least it was the only hint of color before he tilted it slightly, and a hidden R gleamed crimson under the fluorescent lights overhead.

-Dragon King-

“Cranidos is unable to battle!”

Roark was numb. He felt nothing as he blankly watched his partner fall to the ground. There was no competitive flame in his chest, no pride, no anger, no spark. There was only the distant buzzing in the back of his head and a weight in his pocket from dozens of missed call notifications on his phone.

Across the field, Casey Ranger wordlessly tilted his head. The short boy’s eyes had a faint pink illumination behind them that was similar yet so different from the red glare that Cross had burnt into his mind.

Hatenna stood proudly in the middle of the arena, bruised and panting heavily, but holding her head high and stubbornly refusing to show weakness.

The Gym Leader reached for the final ball on his belt, but as his fingers closed around it he just… didn’t have the strength to pull it free.

This was the second back to back full sweep by badgeless trainers in two days. He had been too ashamed to check his social media or email yesterday, but if by some miracle people hadn’t been making fun of him yet, they would now.

Slowly Roark’s hand slipped off the cold metal of the Pokeball and hung loosely at his side.

“I forfeit.”

There was no audience in the gym to gasp in shock, but he could still hear them anyway, and could feel the steely disappointed stare of his father pressing against his neck.

“Th-The gym leader forfeits the match. The winner is the challenger, Casey Ranger!”

-Dragon King-

Team Rocket wasn’t a threat in this region during the games. Doing business with them might be morally questionable, but Mark had played the games, he knew ahead of time they weren’t going to do anything big enough to be worthy of protagonist intervention. So was it really morally questionable, when he knew they were harmless in Sinnoh’s big picture?

Besides, Rocket was simple, they just wanted money and influence. Compared to the other bad guy teams, they were firmly on the “lesser evil” end. Galactic wanted to reset the world to get rid of emotion or something. Aqua wanted to sink all the continents into the sea, genociding humanity in the process, because they were vegan for fish. Plasma wanted to get rid of Pokeballs, which were the things that let Humanity hold their own against the terrors of this reality, and evolve from paranoid tribes into a modern society. And Flare was trying to remake an ancient death ray or something. (The story line from X made no sense, how the Hell were they supposed to do that with Xerneas- the life pokemon as a power source?)

Magma, well, Magma wasn’t really too bad. They were kind of like the Dutch on cocaine. Granted, getting rid of most of the ocean would totally fuck the weather over something fierce, and cause mass droughts. But in the long long term (or even if they just did it really slowly), they were onto something. It was free land! No housing shortages here, folks!

These were the thoughts going through Mark’s head, justifying his decision, as he entered the newly refurbished warehouse on 7th street.

Team Rocket was a lot subtler than Glacatic, by a large margin. Instead of neon hair dye, and over the top space suits, the six or so people standing guard at the doors and moving crates around inside were wearing nondescript black uniforms with gloves and gray boots. Most didn’t even have the R on their chest, and the ones that he assumed did just had to throw on a dark jacket to hide it.

Galactic wanted to be seen, to be respected. Rocket clearly didn’t. Which made sense considering A: they were basically the Pokemon mafia, B: their CEO was a man who had been undercover as a Gym leader for years, and C: in the process of trying to set in in Sinnoh, they were being muscled out by Galactic- at least from what he’d picked up in that alley.

One of the grunts opened up a shipping container, and directed him down a hidden flight of stairs, where the setting immediately changed from “WIP industrial” to “old money” the moment he went through the door at the bottom.

Beyond was a waiting room that was small but classy. Polished dark wood panels lined the walls, shining faintly under the soft light of a hanging brass lamp. A deep burgundy carpet covered the floor. The scent of leather mingled with a faint trace of cigars adding to the room’s smoky, old-world charm.

There were no windows, of course, the place was underground, just the soft hum of ventilation and the low, barely audible murmur of activity somewhere beyond the thick wooden door at the far side of the room.

If this was what a Rocket middleman got when setting up a branch in a new region, he’d hate to see how obscene the budgets of their admins were… Actually, no, on second thought he would very much like to see those numbers.

Mark took a seat in one of the five leather chairs arranged in the waiting room, but his attention was somewhere else.

She wore a skin-tight crimson bodysuit that matched her high heels, the fabric clung to her like a second skin. Draped over her shoulders was a thick indigo coat that fell to her knees, making her look bigger and keeping her modest- except when it came to her legs, which were on full display (and, whoa momma, did they draw attention). One sleeve of the coat was cut short, exposing her left shoulder and revealing that the bodysuit ran all the way down her arms, where it ended in fingerless gloves.

On the arm that lacked a sleeve, she had a strange device wrapped around her forearm. It was some kind of tan metallic machine that's only distinguishing feature was the black lens on its front. Maybe it was some kind of industrial flashlight? Either way, it matched with the visor on her face, and made her look more menacing than she probably should have.

She looked familiar in a way that raised red flags in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t place her face to a name or an appearance in canon that he could remember. She definitely didn’t appear in the games, and she didn’t look like she was a part of team Rocket, so who…

The woman looked up at him through silver bangs of hair that partially covered her dark blue eyes.

“Can I help you? If you’re just going to be creepy, I’ll break your nose. Filth.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to try that. I wasn't being a creep, you just looked familiar, and I was trying to think if I’ve seen you before.” Mark waved her off, not wanting to get thrown out, and lose his chance at cash because some random lady tempted him into throwing a punch. “I’m not here to start a fight, I just want to pawn off some Pokemon I caught.”

That seemed to catch her attention. She put away her phone and turned her full attention to him with a calculating glint in her eye.

“You’re a Pokemon hunter?” Her tone had changed from dismissive disgust to something cold, professional, almost predatory.

“Eh.” Mark shrugged. “I’m looking for cash, and thought this would be a good option. It’s been a complete headache though, so I’m not sure if it’s worth the hassle to keep at it. That’s up to how much mister fedora is willing to put down for some Teddiursa.”

“You’re a rookie? And you went with Teddiura cubs for your first sell? No one just wakes up and decides to become a hunter on a whim.”

“What can I say? I’m not everybody else.”

She looked him up and down, visibly unimpressed. “Clearly.”

“Hey!”

“What’s your name? The number of successful hunters in Sinnoh is larger than most regions, but still small. I like to keep a headcount of everyone I might bump shoulders with.”

“The name’s Marcus Cross, future legend.”

The silver haired woman reached out and shook his hand with a strong grip. She was going to say a snide comment about his ambitions, but something in his eyes held her back.

“Using your full name is risky in this business. Just call me Hunter J.”

“J. Hunter J.” Mark tasted the word on his tongue, trying to dredge up where he’d heard it before, but despite the dejavu that the name brought, nothing came to mind.

The door to the office opened and “Max Mustermann” stepped out.

“Ah, Marcus, I was hoping to see you.” Max gave Mark a nod before turning his attention to the only female in the room. “Ms J.” He said curtly as he handed her a stack of papers.

J flipped through them, before putting them in her coat and standing up.

“I have to be going now.” She said to Mark. “I was just here to scope out a possible client. What you’re stumbling into is a dangerous job, you have to tread carefully in this business.”

“I outsmarted an Ursaring with a Bidoof and some duct tape. I think I’ll be fine.”

“I wasn’t talking about the Pokemon.” J’s professional tone vanished, replaced by the sharp edge of a threat. "Watch whose toes you’re stepping on. Every contract you close is one less for me."

J sauntered out of the room, only pausing at the door to send one last glare over her shoulder.

“Try not to choke on your ambition. New hunters have a tendency to go missing in the wilds.”

“Why don’t you go choke on a dick?” Mark flipped her off as she left, a gesture which J happily returned.

“Man, why are all the hot chicks always total bitches?”

-Chapter End-