Pokémon: Master of the Rain Team

Reiji was up early today. The new bedroom still felt unfamiliar, and he hadn’t slept well last night.

After getting up, he prepared breakfast for all ten of his Pokémon. Their meals were simple.

Poliwhirl and five other Pokémon had Moomoo Milk, Pokéblocks, and some Pokémon snacks.

Rhyhorn ate minerals and, if thirsty, drank fresh water straight from the pool.

Magikarp and Wishiwashi each got one Water-Light Pokéblock, more than enough to fill their little bellies.

As for Farfetch’d, it ate snacks made for Water-type Pokémon. These foods were milder and lacked any strong odors.

Farfetch’d had to make do with that. Its Pokéblocks were also the high-grade Water-type kind.

For milk, it split a bottle of regular milk with Reiji. And with that, breakfast was done.

After breakfast, Reiji returned most of his Pokémon to their Poké Balls, keeping only Pelipper and Spinarak with him. He planned to visit a nearby shopping mall to buy some small gifts, then head to the orphanage.

Specifically, he wanted to check out the Orphanage listed on his fake ID. He needed to know what kind of place it was—and whether it deserved his support.

At the mall, he first browsed clothing. When he passed by the orphanage yesterday, he’d seen about a dozen children. If he wanted to buy them clothes, he’d need at least that many sets.

But the children’s clothes here cost ¥10,000 per set. He could afford it—but he didn’t want to get ripped off.

It was just clothes. No need to splurge and draw attention. If the orphanage director realized he was wealthy, he might be treated like a fat sheep ready for slaughter.

If the director was friends with that bar geezer—as shady as he was—then he probably wasn’t much better himself. Best to keep a low profile.

Eventually, unable to find anything reasonably priced, he asked a shop assistant, ”Excuse me, where can I find cheap but good children’s clothes? I need quite a lot.”

”Sir, you might want to try the secondhand market near the port. They should have what you’re looking for.”

Taking the advice, Reiji left the mall, released Pelipper from its Poké Ball, and flew to the secondhand market by the harbor.

The assistant had written down the address, so once he arrived at the port and asked for directions, it didn’t take long to find the place.

The secondhand market was more like a recycling center—used clothes, furniture, appliances, books, toys, all kinds of daily necessities.

Some of the items came from Kinnow itself; others were imported from surrounding islands. This was a port, after all—a transfer hub.

The kids’ clothes here were much cheaper. He picked refurbished pieces that looked clean and presentable: ¥1,000 for two items.

There were also clothes sold by weight, but they were too messy and disorganized. He stuck to the neatly packaged refurbished ones.

He spent ¥50,000 and packed 100 pieces: 50 tops and 50 pairs of pants in different colors.

Then he spent ¥10,000 on 20 assorted Pokémon plushies, big and small.

Next, he spent ¥20,000 on snacks and candy—there was plenty of that here too.

Just as he was about to leave the market, he spotted a stall selling books by weight—beginner Pokémon guides, comics, children’s picture books.

He paid ¥10,000 for 10kg of books.

Most of the books were on Pokémon knowledge. It made sense—this was a Pokémon-centric world. Learning about them could even land someone a stable job in the future.

He stuffed everything into his 50-cube storage backpack, released Pelipper once more, and flew west toward the Orphanage.

From the sky, they spotted the orphanage easily—a distinct wooden building on the western edge of the city. Reiji guided Pelipper to land right in front of the gate.

The kids had already noticed him flying in. By the time he touched down, one of them had gone to fetch the director.

Several children with Pokémon came outside and stood in front of the gate with their partners, blocking Reiji from entering.

Reiji didn’t push his way in. He still had his face covered (though no hood this time), which made him look even more suspicious.

Then he released Poliwhirl from its Poké Ball. One of the older boys, thin and scrawny, did a double take and blurted, ”Wait—why is it you? What are you doing here?”

”What? I’m not welcome?” Reiji raised a brow. This guy sure seemed hostile toward him. He didn’t remember ever offending him.

”You’re right. You’re not welcome here.” The skinny kid crossed his arms and looked away, refusing to meet Reiji’s eyes.

If it weren’t for the bar geezer telling him to learn how to raise a Poliwhirl from this guy, he’d probably be even more hostile.

I mean, what kid wants to be told to learn from someone else? It was basically saying, ”You’re not good enough.” Of course he was annoyed.

He looked at Reiji’s Poliwhirl. It seemed strong, sure, but nothing special. Maybe his own Poliwhirl could even beat it.

Reiji glanced at the skinny boy and the two other older kids. These three were the only ones with Pokémon.

The skinny boy had a Poliwhirl and a Shroomish. The other two had a Bellsprout and an Oddish.

So the ”strongest” trainer at the orphanage was this kid with the Poliwhirl.

”Director Grandpa’s here! Director Grandpa, come beat up the bad guy at the door!”

Reiji’s forehead twitched. These brats had watched too many cartoons. Every new person was a ”bad guy.”

He ignored the childish yelling and turned to look at the man walking over—a long-bearded elder in short sleeves, leaning on a cane and holding a smoking pipe.

Beside the old man was a Shroomish. Though aging, its eyes were sharp and its steps steady. Clearly still capable in battle.

Reiji quickly greeted him, ”Director, I’m A-Hai. I’ve come back.”

Since he was pretending to be an orphan from this place, he slipped into the role instantly, calling the old man ”Director.”

”A-Hai?” The director frowned, clearly unable to recall any orphan by that name.

Reiji gave a hint, ”I ran into the captain on my way here. I stayed at his place last night. This morning, I came to visit you…”

”Ohh, A-Hai! You’ve grown so much—I barely recognized you. I’m getting old,” the director said, blinking his clouded eyes. The moment he heard the ”captain” keyword, he slipped into the act without hesitation.

”Yeah, it’s been so long. When I left, these little guys were barely six months old. They probably don’t remember me,” Reiji said, silently cursing this cunning old fox.

Still, he had to play along, his tone bittersweet and nostalgic—like a long-lost son returning home.

In truth, he really was homesick. But not for this world. In this world, he had no family at all.

”A-Hai, come inside and sit. You’ve been gone for years. Tell me where you’ve been all this time.”

”Director, I brought some snacks for the kids. I’ll hand them out first.” Reiji opened his backpack and pulled out a bag of candy and treats.

If there was one way to instantly win over a child’s trust—it was candy.

”Here, you handle this. As the big brother, distribute the candy to the others.”

He handed the bags to the skinny boy, who was stunned. Reiji might have fooled the other kids, but not him.

When did Reiji become a kid from this orphanage? That was obviously a lie.

This guy was a fraud—pretending like it was all real. The boy wasn’t buying it for a second.

But just as he was about to expose him, he saw the eager, hungry eyes of the other children—eyes locked on the colorful candies in his hands.

If he outed the fraud now… would his little brothers and sisters miss out on their sweets?

He couldn’t be that selfish. But he also didn’t want them to be deceived.

”Alright, go ahead and pass out the candy,” the director said calmly, waving his hand at the skinny boy.

”I understand, Director,” the boy replied. He let the matter drop and began distributing the sweets to the thirty or so kids.

Reiji was honestly a bit worried the brat would blow his cover. If he had, Reiji probably would’ve smacked him a few times.

But since the kid stayed quiet, everything went smoothly.

He escaped the kids’ circle and followed the old director into the orphanage.

They sat in a pavilion, the director pouring a questionable cup of tea for Reiji.

With the kids happily munching on candy and not paying attention, the director dropped the act and got straight to the point: ”Did that drunkard send you?”

”He said you could help me complete my remaining documents,” Reiji replied plainly, dropping his own act.

”Not many come this far. Why did you?”

The director was curious. Trainers like Reiji weren’t unheard of.

Over the years, he’d seen a few. You could count them on two hands. Usually, only those who wanted to hide their identity and live quietly would go to such lengths.

The rest, those mixed up in the black market, used fake identities only temporarily—ready to discard them at a moment’s notice. They didn’t care about orphanage addresses or playing out the backstory.

Almost no one made it this far. Almost no one sat here to sip tea with him.

”I come from somewhere far away,” Reiji said slowly. ”A place beyond the League’s control… where only the strong survive. A jungle, ruled by savagery. I’m tired of it. I’m just… tired.”

(End of Chapter)

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