Pokémon: Master of the Rain Team

At the harbor, Reiji rode Pelipper through a loop around the old man’s usual night fishing spot, using the last sliver of twilight to scan the area.

Finding nothing suspicious, he had Pelipper land on the roof of a building near the streetlamp—one of the tallest around, chosen precisely to avoid being easily spotted. He posted Pelipper and Butterfree to keep watch in the sky in case of an aerial ambush.

Once darkness fully fell, the black clothes he wore became perfect camouflage.

No passerby walking below would ever guess a figure was silently watching from above.

But he waited for a long time, and the old man never showed up—only a group of children tossing stones near the harbor.

Maybe he had arrived too early. He kept waiting until the night deepened and even the children left, but the old man still didn’t come.

Reiji started to suspect he’d been played again and was about to head to the bar directly when he heard the sound of those same kids from earlier. They had returned, playing and running along the harbor.

They seemed to be playing hide-and-seek, darting around quickly. Hearing their footsteps, Reiji raised his binoculars and looked down.

It was the same group. He quickly lost interest and shifted the binoculars toward other streetlamps near the sea, in case the old man had gone to the wrong one and was waiting at a different post.

He scanned casually—and spotted a kid lingering under a streetlamp.

Seeing it was just a kid again, he was about to move on. But something made him double back with the binoculars.

The kid looked familiar. Reiji had seen him a couple nights ago during a sloppy battle against that chubby Trainer—the same kid whose Pokémon’s Water Gun was so weak. A skinny one.

Beside the kid sat a Poliwhirl, lazily tossing stones into the sea alongside him.

Why was this guy here? If he knew the chubby Trainer well enough to battle with him, they were probably friends.

Given how amateurish both their battling styles were, no decent Trainer would ever bother fighting them. And they wouldn’t challenge strong Trainers, either.

Getting one-shot by a pro Trainer would wreck their confidence. Just like in his past life—get crushed too many times in a game, and you’d lose the will to keep playing.

For kids like that, the thrill of a back-and-forth fight with a friend was what Pokémon battles were about. That’s how they imagined the experience should be.

Not stepping on stage and getting crushed. That’s no fun. That only leads to disappointment and makes you give up on the Pokémon you love.

Reiji observed the kid for over half an hour. The boy looked like he wanted to leave multiple times, only to stop and return to the streetlamp, kicking the stones around him in frustration.

That behavior made Reiji think of shady dealings from his past life—bad people often used kids to pass messages or deliver goods.

The old man who ran the black market bar was definitely an old fox in that world.

And this trade of theirs? Obviously an under-the-table deal. Sending a kid instead of coming himself made sense.

Reiji had his own way of confirming. He put down the binoculars and called out, ”Pelipper, go check around that kid—see if there are any unfamiliar people hiding within 300 meters.”

”Peliii,” Pelipper stood on the rooftop railing, glanced toward the kid Reiji pointed at, nodded, and took off.

It circled around the boy and flew toward the harbor. Finding no signs of ambush nearby, it returned to the rooftop.

”Peli peli,” Pelipper landed on the railing and called out—no suspicious individuals found. Most people in the area were passersby who quickly moved on.

”No one?” Reiji raised his binoculars again. The skinny kid was still under the lamp, clearly near his breaking point.

Since there was no ambush, Reiji decided to test things directly—but he’d have to act quickly before the kid got fed up and left.

”Pelipper, take me down,” Reiji said, hopping on its back. Spinarak clung to his shoulder. Butterfree hovered nearby. He also held the Poké Balls for Poliwhirl and Krabby.

With these five Pokémon, he was confident in handling most surprises.

According to what he’d heard at the black market, having three Stage 2 evolved Pokémon qualified someone as an ”Elite Trainer.”

Reiji now met that threshold. He was a true wild-card Elite Trainer.

To officially receive an Elite Trainer badge, though, he’d need to get certified at a Pokémon Center.

Above Elite was the Veteran Trainer badge, which had an age requirement: twenty-two or older, and at least one fully-evolved Stage 3 Pokémon.

Strong Veteran Trainers were on par with Gym Leaders.

Gym Leader certification required League approval and granted the right to open a gym.

But all that was for later. Reiji’s priority now was solving his identity problem.

Without an ID, he was like a rat on the streets—unable to walk openly in daylight, only moving in the shadows at night.

When he landed behind the kid, the boy instantly noticed him.

As soon as he saw Reiji—a masked stranger in black—he never looked away. Who knew what he was thinking?

Only when Reiji landed and met his gaze did the kid realize something was off. This wasn’t a passerby. This was someone coming straight for him—a mysterious black-clad figure.

Rumors had been floating around town the past couple days: a masked man attacking rookie Trainers.

Could it be him?

”Poliii…” The boy’s Poliwhirl stepped forward at once, placing itself protectively between its Trainer and Reiji. It wasn’t going to let anyone hurt its partner.

Seeing the Poliwhirl, Reiji was reminded of his own. He released his own Poliwhirl from its Poké Ball.

”Poli?” Reiji’s Poliwhirl blinked, surprised to see a fellow Poliwhirl glaring at it. It called out, ”Poli? What are you scared of?”

”Poli. The human behind you,” replied the boy’s Poliwhirl, still on guard.

”Poli. That’s my Trainer—he’s a good human,” Reiji’s Poliwhirl said, trying to reassure its counterpart.

”Poli… your Trainer’s scary,” said the other, clearly unsettled by the hooded shadow of Reiji.

”Poli…” Reiji’s Poliwhirl was about to explain more, but Reiji interrupted.

”That’s enough. Talk later,” he said, cutting it off. Then he looked at the boy under the lamp and asked, ”Who told you to wait here?”

”I don’t know what you’re talking about. Tell me who you are first,” the kid shot back. He had been intimidated by Reiji’s aura at first—clad in black, masked, clearly no good guy.

”I’m Umihara Reiji.” He caught the flicker in the boy’s eyes. That confirmed it—this was the old man’s courier. ”No one else mentioned this name to you, right? So… can I have the goods now?”

”You’re Umihara Reiji?” the kid asked, finally daring to examine him. The guy looked completely shrouded in black. Why did Grandpa tell him to be polite to this dude? He didn’t seem like much.

Though… that outfit was pretty cool. Maybe when he had money, he’d buy one for himself.

”Where’s the stuff?” Reiji asked calmly. The kid’s rudeness didn’t anger him.

He simply sighed. Kids these days really had guts—staring down strangers like this could get them in serious trouble. One wrong look and you might get hurt.

”Over there, on the streetlamp. Bye.” The kid left quickly, hands on his head, but his eyes kept darting toward Reiji’s Poliwhirl.

More than Reiji himself, the boy’s attention was fixed on the muscular Poliwhirl.

As a Poliwhirl Trainer, he was naturally drawn to others of the same species. He really wanted to ask: how did it get so strong?

”You like Poliwhirl?” Reiji asked as he approached the streetlamp and retrieved a black plastic bag tied to it. He noticed the kid was still staring at his Pokémon.

That one question opened the boy’s floodgates. ”Uh… can I touch your Poliwhirl?”

”Sure,” Reiji said. He wasn’t in a rush to check the contents of the bag. He was curious what this kid was after.

”Whoa! The muscle on this Poliwhirl is so solid! So strong!” The boy reached out eagerly and felt its arm, eyes widening.

”And it’s taller and bulkier than mine! Way more developed. How’d you raise it like this?”

He inspected the Poliwhirl closely, eyes gleaming. If only his Poliwhirl could be like that…

Reiji, hearing all this, finally noticed it too—his Poliwhirl really was a full size bigger.

If the kid hadn’t pointed it out, he might’ve assumed the other Poliwhirl was just underdeveloped.

Maybe it was due to life on the island? When he had time, he’d measure height and weight.

”Sorry… if it’s a secret, you don’t have to say,” the boy said awkwardly, seeing Reiji stay silent.

”Feed it more,” Reiji replied. Honestly, he didn’t know what made his Poliwhirl this strong.

They ate the same food during their island survival. Poliwhirl just trained a bit more. If that counted as a reason, it wasn’t anything special.

As for eating Pokémon—yeah, it happened. The black market was full of people who ate species banned by the League.

If the League approved of it, people ate them openly. If not, they ate them secretly. Simple as that.

Loopholes everywhere… but not his concern. He had neither the power nor the will to change that.

He couldn’t even change himself. He lived like a rat, afraid to walk in daylight. Better to fix himself first.

”More? Just feed it more?” the kid gasped. Could it really be that easy? He fed his Poliwhirl plenty, and it didn’t bulk up like that!

”Poli? Really?” the kid’s Poliwhirl asked, curious about its stronger counterpart. Hearing that just eating more might work, it asked for confirmation.

”Poli… probably? I don’t really know either,” Reiji’s Poliwhirl scratched its head. It was confused too. It had assumed the other one was just underfed.

”Poliwhirl, let’s go,” Reiji called, seeing the kid standing there, dazed. Maybe he thought Reiji was lying and didn’t want to engage anymore.

He opened the plastic bag. Time to check what the old man had delivered.

Once Reiji walked off, the kid snapped out of it. He almost chased after him to ask more, but stopped and muttered, ”Tch… don’t wanna tell me? Fine! ’Feed it more’—what am I, three years old? At least come up with a better excuse if you’re gonna lie to a kid!”

Reiji, already gone, didn’t hear the boy’s grumbling. He took out what was inside the bag: an ID card with no photo and a folded note.

The ID was the same size as one from his past life. On the front: name, gender, date of birth, address, and personal ID number.

On the back: a large red-and-white Poké Ball symbol, like those on Pokémon Center buildings—clearly a League emblem.

Also listed were issue date and location.

After reading it, Reiji unfolded the note. It read:

”Kid, you’ll have to print the photo yourself. I’ve marked the address. Printing fee: 1000.”

That number—1000—reminded Reiji of something.

”Ah. I forgot to pay for the fake ID.”

Not that he thought it was free. Every route into the black market passed through the old man’s bar. Reiji only knew that one entrance, so he could pay next time he visited.

He read on.

”After printing the photo, go to the Pokémon Center to test the ID. If the League system doesn’t detect it, no payment required.”

”The ID lists an orphanage address—on the northwest edge of town. If you have time, visit. Make the director remember your face, so you can pass as a kid who grew up there…”

Reiji folded the note and tucked it into an inner coat pocket.

If it were just a fake ID, there’d be no need for so many details. He didn’t know why the old man had gone to such lengths, but if he wanted this fake to pass as real, visiting the orphanage was a must.

It depended on whether he needed to solidify this identity. If he wanted the ID to become official, the orphanage visit was essential.

Next step?

Head to the photo shop listed in the note and print a proper headshot to place on the ID.

Without it, this card would always be a fake.

Once the photo was printed, he’d test the ID at a Pokémon Center to see if it was in the League system.

If not… he wouldn’t pay.

(End of Chapter)

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