-The Dragon King-

-Redline: Ch 6-

The metal revolver clattered uselessly onto the table. Max Mustermann gave Mark an unimpressed look as his product slid over to him.

“I need something bigger. Better penetration, more kick, a higher caliber.”

“Normally I would question why, but after the fiasco yesterday, I can’t say I blame you.” The Rocket officer lazily pushed the revolver’s grip with a black gloved finger, turning the barrel to face away from himself.

“Sinnoh hasn’t had an Ace-level Pokemon attack in almost a decade now. The League has gotten good at hunting down any that stray too close to cities, and people here have forgotten that the biggest danger to our modern lifestyle is the same creatures that permit it. Just think; that Ursaring was capable of doing so much damage, but a single Ace trainer could have taken care of it. Cynthia deciding to show off only highlights that. Seeing her work in person was… enlightening.”

“I need something to counter that, I need a nuclear option, I need something. I don’t care how much it costs, or how much ammunition it takes. I’m not going to let myself be helpless, not again. Never again.”

“Nothing can touch the champion’s Garchomp. Breeders have spent years and personal fortunes designing and raising Pokémon for the sole purpose of countering that thing, and all they got for their effort was the bitter taste of humiliating defeat. And they’re at least using Pokemon, no man made weapon could hope to take down an Ace level Pokémon- and you’re talking about something leagues above that.”

Mark’s hands gripped the armrests of the chair until his knuckles were white, yet his face was as unreadable as a stone.

“We’ll see about that.” He grunted, with a stormy look in his eyes.

Mustermann hummed wordlessly, neither refuting nor supporting Mark’s… ambitious ideas.

“While we’re on the topic, I wanted to talk about the interesting implications of my purchase yesterday.”

“Oh fuck off, don’t even try to act like you’re not going to use video of that to massivly spike the price of the Teddiursa to whatever chump you pawn them off to. If anything, you should be paying me for the marketing.”

“Ha! I think you misunderstand, my operation was completely unaffected- if anything this is good for us. The inflow of subsidies to the city to aid in reconstruction of the damaged areas opens up several new opportunities to profit from, if we’re willing to retool slightly. And while the increased eyes on the city are annoying, it’s much more damaging to Galactic, who have a much bigger footprint than us. We have to play safe now, but we can keep expanding business, while they will have to freeze operations here entirely for the foreseeable future. Especially since the Champion herself decided to drop by.”

Mustermann trailed off at that, and Mark couldn’t really blame him. It had been a bad situation, but wild Pokémon attacks were very common, and even the Ursaring was nothing special that a couple of Ace trainers couldn’t handle. Cynthia showing up unannounced would be like the President of America flying overseas and personally getting in the trenches.

That might be an exaggeration, but it just didn’t happen unless something weird was going on behind the scenes.

Well, Teddy tried to pull his old cavalry regiment back together and volunteered to fight in the First World War, but that’s different. President Theodore Rosevelt was just a different kind of man, for fuck’s sake he had a pet bear cub that he saved from a forest fire, and he invited professional boxers to the white house to spar with them. That man was the walking American stereotype that the Germans feared.

“I don’t know much about it, but Cynthia seems to be almost as paranoid about Galactic as I am, if not moreso. She just hasn’t been able to do anything about it publicly, for one reason or another. It’s a strange day that having a Champion stop by is beneficial to me, but I suppose I shouldn’t complain.”

Mustermann shook his head with a small scoff.

“Forgive me, I’m getting off track. Back to what I was saying, I’m more than happy to sell to every potential customer that walks through my door, but in a business like ours, we have to be cautious. Cheap alternatives that break Pharma’Co’s League-mandated monopoly on synthetic potions are one thing, exotic Pokemon smuggled across regional borders or dangerous growth enhancing steroids are another. Our full inventory is only available to customers who we know we can trust, and I am happy to say that you now qualify.”

“Ah. So you feel safer around me now that you have blackmail about me causing the attack.”

“It’s called insurance that you won’t try to make a deal with the police if things get hot.” Mustermann took a sip of water. “So yes.”

“Does your expanded inventory include better guns?”

Mustermann made a so-so motion with his hand.

“It’s not in one of our particular fields of specialization, so I can’t promise anything, but I’ll make some phone calls.”

“I also want to reserve an ammo press. I don’t know when I’ll have the spare cash to drop on it, or how long it’ll take for you to get one and sail it over from Kanto, but I want one.”

“Done. Might I also recommend some new clothing? Your current gear is…” Mustermann hesitated for a moment, trying to think of an eloquent way of phrasing his thoughts. “Bluntly, it looks like it was buried under a building.”

“That’s because it was.” Mark thumbed at the bent metal and torn leather that his black undershirt was able to peek through. “This was the best I could find at the mart, and it still sucks ass- everything else was fashion first and function somewhere down the hall, on break.”

“That’s because most trainers want something flashy to stand out during tournaments and to sponsors. The types of people who are going into situations where they need actual protection are typically wealthy enough to get their equipment from specialized retailers, instead of the cheap scrap they sell at the Pokemart.”

“That’s stupid.”

“It’s supply and demand.”

“Still stupid. Anyone who’s willing to work with exploding Chihuahuas without protection is stupid, I don’t care how colorful they want to look for the cameras.”

“I feel like I should mention we have trainer gear in our inventory, if you're interested in purchasing it. It’s simple, functional, rugged, and provides moderate protection while still being somewhat lightweight.”

“Does it have a massive Rocket logo on it anywhere?”

“Of course not, that privilege is reserved for people under our direct employment.”

“Colors?”

“It comes in dark gray or green.”

“I’ll take two. It’ll be nice to wear some actual quality clothes, and have an excuse to ditch the cape.”

“Ditch the cape? Why would you do that?”

“It’s, you know.” Mark made a meaningless motion with his hands. “It was a drunk purchase, and seemed really cool at the time, but now that I’m sober, you know how it goes. It’s a lot of visual noise.”

“No more than any other trainer.”

“I feel like someone’s gonna call me a dweeb for wearing it.”

“I would pay to see someone try that, I have a feeling they would get punched in the face.”

“Yeah well I feel stupid.”

Stolen story; please report.

“I’ll give you a five percent discount on your gear, if you keep it as part of your outfit.”

“Why in the world do you even care?”

“Call it intuition about my investment.” The criminal said with a glint of something in his eye that Mark couldn’t make out.

“Fine.” Mark rolled his eyes and subconsciously tugged at the collar of his cape. “I’ll keep it, for the discount.”

“Fantastic, I’ll have those ready before you leave. Anything else?”

Mark shifted in his seat and pulled out the electric wallet he stole from Galactic. He popped it open, and began scooping out shrunken Pokeballs by the fistful- about 40 something in total.

“I snagged these during the bear attack. I don’t know much about how they work, but I know they have computer stuff in them and get connected to your trainer ID. How do we make them look legit?”

Mustermann smiled.

-Dragon King-

Cynthia walked down the roads of Oreburgh with a small smile on her face. The attack had been bad, but she had gotten here in time to prevent it from being worse. Already the broken buildings were swarming with construction teams, working hand in hand with Pokemon to rebuild.

Within a few weeks you wouldn’t even be able to tell that anything had happened. Pokemon truly were amazing creatures.

No one had been killed, and the few that were injured had been healed up at the Pokecenter without a single permanent injury. Including one very grumpy Dragon trainer.

Cynthia found said Dragon trainer alone at the edge of the city, sitting on a slab of concrete, from some building, overlooking the forest. He was pulling out the laces of his steel toed boots, and re-lacing them manually, to try to make the shoes fit better.

He was wearing something new, a deep charcoal uniform, mottled with an angular, broken camouflage pattern. Over the chest, back, upper arms, and thighs, the uniform bulged slightly, hinting at hidden protection beneath. Lightweight composite plates were sewn discreetly under the thick fabric, offering a layer of defense against shrapnel while maintaining enough flexibility to allow for freedom of movement. The shoulders and elbows bore extra padding, their ridged stitching suggesting additional reinforcement for high-impact areas.

The jacket, cut to a practical mid-length, featured an array of cargo pockets: two large ones on the chest, angled for easy access, and smaller ones on each arm. The trousers mirrored the design, with extra padding around the thighs, calves, and knees, to give complete protection while sliding on harsh terrain. Every seam was triple-stitched, ensuring the uniform could endure a beating.

“Can I ask where you got that outfit?”

Marcus froze at the sound of her voice.

“Can I ask why you care?” He called out without turning to look at her.

“Because it's a Kantoan design, you can tell by the shirt collar.” Cynthia said with a hum, touching a finger to her chin as she gave it a closer look over. “If I had to make a specific guess, it looks like it’s based off of old Kanto military gear, from the Brother’s War, specifically the rapid response forces.”

“I got it from an old geezer of a traveling merchant, apparently most trainers didn’t want it because it wasn’t flashy enough.” Mark said tensely. “Do I need to be worried that I got ripped off?”

“No, absolutely not!” Cynthia sounded almost offended at the implication. “The aesthetic isn’t for show, that’s high-quality Kevlar that can save your life from the splash of an errant Pokemon move. And the fabric? The Kanto League knew what they were doing, it’s treated to resist fire, water, and even some chemical agents, all while staying breathable in hot conditions.”

Cynthia’s rambling finally caused Mark to crack and look over at her with a bewildered expression, before something clicked and he had a moment of realization.

“Oh right. You’re a history nerd.”

“Those who don’t learn from the past are doomed to repeat it.” Cynthia countered with a thin smile.

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, at all. If you have a passion you love then you should pursue it through Hell and high water, because that’s something not everyone is lucky to find. I respect that. It doesn’t make you any less of a nerd, though.”

“I suppose not.” The champion said with a laugh, before humming, and eyeing him curiously. “You don’t seem scared of me. Most people who see Garchomp go all out start acting differently around me, even if they don’t want to.”

“Actually I’m fucking terrified.” Mark snorted, his hands gripping the strings of his boot too tightly. “I just have an unhealthy way of dealing with fear- it tends to help solve my problems though, so I’ve never found it to be an issue.”

Cynthia didn’t say anything to that, instead she walked over and took a seat next to him.

“...Why are you here? I doubt I have anything I can offer to the Champion of Sinnoh, right now.”

“Because I talked to Dawn, and she told me what happened. Professor Rowan is a good friend of mine and he would be devastated if she got hurt. Pulling her back and leading the Ursaring away yourself wasn’t something most people in your situation would have done. Dawn is a competent battler, has three badges, and is a star Contestant. Arguably she was more capable of defending herself than you are, but you still put yourself in danger ahead of her. Common logic would say it should be the other way around.”

“Just say what you mean, woman. If you think I’m stupid, then say you think I’m stupid. Double meanings and dancing around the subject are gonna piss me off more than any actual insult you can throw at me. Trust me, I’ve heard it all before.” Mark finished his boot with a final harsh tug on the string.

“...She’s just a kid. I know your stupid legal system values badges and licenses over age, but she didn’t need to be there. It wasn’t right for her to see all that.”

“You’re right, she shouldn’t have had to see all that.” Cynthia said with a sigh, much to Mark’s surprise. “But we can’t afford to coddle the next generation, just like the generation before us couldn’t coddle ours. They need to be free to explore, learn, and grow on their own, so that when something like this happens, they’re able to pull through to the other side, because one day we won’t be around to help them anymore. They need to grow to be brave like you.”

Cynthis turned her head slightly, and looked at him from the corner of her eye.

“In Dawn’s words you’re one of the bravest people she’s ever met, but also one of the most insufferable. The contrast is driving her nuts. She wants to thank you, actually, but doesn’t know how, so I offered to pass it along for her.”

“If she doesn’t know how to thank me, money’s a good start.”

Cynthia chuckled at the “joke”, and the two settled into a semi-comfortable silence for a while, until Mark finished what he was doing, brushed himself off, and stood up.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to get going towards Eterna City. The leaf lover owes me a badge, and I collect my debts.”

“You have the Champion’s ear, and you’re just going to leave her sitting alone in the cold?” Cynthia smirked, propping her chin on her fist, and her elbow on her knee. “You have the chance to say anything you want to me, without the press slandering you just for breathing near me, and you’re just going to leave?”

Mark’s footsteps slowed to a stop and he turned back around to look at her.

“I can say whatever I want? No judgement?”

“Of course.”

“Then you’re right… I do got something to say, two somethings to say.”

“Oh?”

“First off, count your days, because I’m gunning for you. I don’t know when, I don’t know how, but I will beat you. I’m going to crush every gym, topple the Elite Four and pull the crown of this region off your head with my own bare hands, and nothing, nothing, is going to stop me.”

Cynthia’s smile only grew larger at his declaration, as if she was expecting that.

“And your second something?”

Mark hesitated for a few seconds, mulling over whether he should really risk saying it.

“Secondly… You’re really hot. Like really hot, and your tits are really nice.”

Cynthia’s smile died and her eyes widened in flustered shock. “What?”

“You heard me. You have nice tits. They’re way bigger than the pictures I saw of you before I came to Sinnoh, and they’re plump too. They have this little bounce when you move, which I don’t think you realize, but it drives me crazy if I don’t actively try to not pay attention to it. Combine that with your face, your ass, the way you walk in those heels, and you are drop dead gorgeous. You blow every woman I ever met back home out of the water.”

“Thank you.” Cynthia coughed into her fist as she took a moment to compose herself. “You’re very, uhm, direct but that’s the most genuine compliment I’ve received in awhile. Much more so than what I get from the press.”

“I’m not done. When I beat you I don’t want prize money, when that happens I’m genuinely going to ask if I can get a dinner date instead. And not a sleazy drive through or a movie, either! I want to take you to a nice small time restaurant where we can sit down, and I can try to flirt with you over ribeye steaks and classic BBQ.”

“You would pass on a fortune that could set you for life, just to get a date with me?” Cynthia asked, failing to hide her amused smile behind her hand.

Mark glanced around to make sure they were still alone.

“Is the whole ‘no judging’ thing still in play, or have I overstepped?”

“No, no, of course it is. Please continue, almost no one talks to me plainly anymore, this is refreshing.”

“Cynthia, let me put this straight: you are incredibly beautiful, you strut around effortlessly in massive heels all day that turn your ass into a hypnosis machine, you have a nerdy obsession with something cool, you basically rule over an entire continent, and you could beat the absolute shit out of me without trying. Every single part of that turns me on something fierce.”

When he finished, Cynthia couldn’t help herself, she started to laugh. A beautiful, earnest, laugh from her chest, that had her tipping her head back and letting her long golden hair blow in the wind.

Mark, naturally assuming she was laughing at him, rolled his eyes and started marching off with a scowl on his face and a twinge of hurt in his thorny heart.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. We’ll see who’s laughing at who when I nuke your team into oblivion.”

“I look forward to seeing you in the Champion arena!” Cynthia called after him with a smile. “Don’t make me wait too long, or I might track you down instead!”

He had to be the three millionth trainer to declare he would beat her, but now she kind of wanted him to finally be the one to actually manage to follow through on that promise- just so she could see the look on his face when she brought her girlfriend to the dinner.

-Chapter End-

-Arc: Redline: End-