Pokémon: Master of the Rain Team

Day 30 of the journey. Clear skies.

Reiji woke up in decent shape. The rushing water was loud, but he’d slept straight through the night and actually rested.

He got up, prepared breakfast for his Pokémon, and once everyone had eaten, they went off to train. Butterfree group were doing what they always did lately—helping him catch those ”dummies” one after another, which also kept their psychic power sharp.

If there weren’t Magikarp to catch, Reiji had no idea where those three would go slack off. Using Magikarp as ”training targets” was the perfect way to keep them honest.

They’d just started the morning’s catching when Quincy showed up again. He hadn’t drunk much yesterday, so he could still get up early. If he’d been drinking like the first day, he’d probably be sleeping until noon again.

”Rai, you’re already catching Magikarp this early?” Quincy saw Reiji working at dawn and felt a little embarrassed that he was the slow one, especially since Reiji was doing this to help him.

”Old man Quincy, if you haven’t eaten, go grab something yourself,” Reiji said without turning around, waving casually. They’d been around each other long enough that they didn’t need to put on manners.

Quincy grabbed a cup of instant noodles and went to the riverbank, watching Reiji’s routine. He still couldn’t figure out what kind of Magikarp this kid was looking for, choosing them one by one like that.

After days of watching and learning nothing, Quincy stopped overthinking it. Once he finished breakfast, he took over the release work—marking each Magikarp properly before sending it back.

They stayed busy all morning. Reiji still had nothing to show for it. The best Magikarp he’d seen these past few days was ”only” a ”55 potential” dummy.

That one wasn’t even better than the Magikarp Naoki had. Reiji didn’t bother catching it. He called Butterfree group to wrap up and headed back to camp for lunch.

Quincy packed it in too and returned with Reiji. Lunch was mushrooms and wild greens again—ingredients Quincy had gathered from the forest that morning.

He wasn’t going to eat and drink for free. His own supplies had run out a while ago, and he hadn’t had time to restock in town. With the Magikarp run happening now, he was stuck living off whatever he could forage, which meant a lot of mushrooms.

Watching Farfetch’d help Reiji cook, Quincy figured he really should catch a couple Pokémon himself—helpers for fieldwork. Two partners would handle a lot of the annoying chores and make outdoor surveying far less miserable.

Which ones to choose… that needed real thought.

Once lunch was ready, the Pokémon trickled back to eat. The ones that couldn’t show their faces stayed in the forest for their meal. Reiji and Quincy sat at the table, sipping mushroom soup.

After lunch, they went right back to it—catch Magikarp, check the proficiency panel, mark it, release it.

They’d done the catch-and-release loop so many times that their hands moved on their own now, faster by the day.

By evening, they finally stopped. It was time for grilled meat—Quincy’s favorite part of the day, because he hadn’t eaten meat in ages.

Tonight, though, Quincy didn’t want alcohol. Two straight days of hangovers had him feeling like his old bones couldn’t take another hit.

”Rai, got any soda? Just give me a drink tonight,” Quincy said quickly, waving both hands when Reiji brought out the liquor again.

”Oh? Weren’t you loving it two days ago?” Reiji teased, but he didn’t push. Quincy was old; forcing it would be asking for trouble.

Reiji had plenty of drinks anyway—he’d bought all kinds on Mandarin Island North. Tonight was a good excuse to open some.

”Hahaha, don’t bully an old man. I can’t keep up,” Quincy said, rubbing his hands as he took the drink and filled his cup.

Reiji poured himself a cup as well. Fat sizzled on the grill, the aroma rose into the night air, and they traded little stories while they ate slowly.

Dinner didn’t last long. Once the sun dipped below the horizon, Quincy said goodbye.

The last two nights he’d stayed until midnight, and it had worn him out. He wasn’t young anymore—he couldn’t outlast a kid on sleepless nights.

Since there was no alcohol tonight, Reiji didn’t even send a Pokémon to escort him. Quincy had lived alone in this forest for years; he knew the night paths well enough to name every muddy patch in the grass. He also refused any protection.

Reiji watched Quincy’s flashlight fade into the distance, then went back to his tent. He let Mudkip out of its Poké Ball, fed it dinner, and played with it for a while.

These days Mudkip could only drink Moomoo Milk. Once it started training, then it could handle high-energy food like Pokéblocks.

He’d only been playing with Mudkip for a short time when one of the night-watch Pokémon rushed over and smacked at his tent. The cry sounded urgent.

”Kuk-kek, kuk-kek…”

”Kingler? What happened?” Reiji recalled Mudkip first, then opened the tent and stepped outside. The first thing he saw was a fast-approaching light in the distance.

By the time he was fully out, the light had reached the camp. He finally saw who it was—Quincy, back again.

”Old man Quincy, why are you back?” Reiji hurried over. Quincy was bent over in the grass, gasping, and Reiji grabbed him to keep him from collapsing.

That was when Reiji noticed Quincy wasn’t alone. There was a teenage boy on his back, soaked from head to toe.

”Hah… hah… let me catch my breath,” Quincy tried to explain, but he was exhausted. He could only pant, barely able to get words out.

”Who is this kid? What happened?” Reiji held his questions until Quincy could breathe again.

”No time,” Quincy said, twisting to look behind him. The darkness there felt like a predator. Cold ran down his spine. He grabbed Reiji’s arm and pushed. ”Rai, get out of here. As far as you can. I’ve got a submarine on the coast—we’ll take it and run…”

”Run? Who’s chasing you?” Reiji looked past him. In the direction Quincy had come from, lights were already blinking through the trees, moving fast. They were only a few hundred meters away—closing the gap in under a minute.

”It’s… it’s…” Quincy started, but shouting broke through the night. He knew it was already too late.

”Don’t let them get away! Move, move, move!”

”Grab the kid and the old man! Don’t let them run—boss wants them!”

”They’re here,” Reiji said, stepping forward and positioning himself between Quincy and the incoming lights. He called out to the Pokémon around him. ”Poliwhirl, Scyther, Kingler, Rhyhorn—get ready.”

As long as they weren’t quasi–Elite Four tier trainers, he could handle it. The only issue was numbers—four or five people. That was harder to gauge.

”They’re a Pokémon poaching ring,” Quincy said quickly, pulling the boy close and retreating behind Reiji. ”They kidnap kids for ransom. And even if they get paid, they still sell the kids anyway. This boy escaped from their ship…”

”A poaching ring… and traffickers,” Reiji said, watching the lights draw nearer. That settled it. There was no need to hold back or play nice. For scum like this, he’d make it hurt.

”There they are!” the group’s leader shouted when he spotted Quincy and the boy. He surged forward, excited to grab them.

Then his flashlight beam hit the Pokémon blocking the path—and Reiji standing in front of Quincy and the hostage. The man stopped short and snapped, ”Who the hell are you? Get out of the way. If you mess with me, I’ll kill you—”

Reiji’s lips curled, slight and cold. ”Go ahead. Try.”

He’d expected more. The leader had a Victreebel, Pinsir, and Beedrill. The other thugs had the usual tools—Kingler, Tentacruel, Weepinbell, Ekans… common Pokémon.

It wasn’t that those Pokémon were bad.

The problem was the hands holding the Poké Balls.

These people didn’t raise Pokémon. They treated them like disposable gear. A rare Pokémon in their grip would still end up wasted, because they had no clue how to train anything properly. If one died, they’d just steal another.

That was the difference between trained professionals and a mob waving weapons around. The only ones who usually bothered improving were the boss and the underbosses—and that was exactly why they were in charge.

”Stupid brat. You’re asking for it!” the underboss barked. He hadn’t wanted trouble with League trainers—those types were often hot-blooded and hated criminals on principle. But this kid was openly laughing at him.

He snapped commands at his Pokémon. ”Victreebel, Razor Leaf! Pinsir, charge—X-Scissor! Beedrill, Poison Sting!”

The moment he moved, the other thugs followed. Kingler, Tentacruel, Weepinbell, Ekans—eight or nine Pokémon came rushing in together.

”Poliwhirl, don’t hold back. Full power,” Reiji said, calm and flat.

”Kingler, Iron Defense—then smash through. Rhyhorn, Rock Polish—then Horn Attack. Scyther, build speed and look for clean finishes.”

Kingler and Rhyhorn didn’t need fancy tactics. They were built for this—hit first, hit hard, break the line. The other side wouldn’t even be able to scratch through their defenses.

Scyther’s job was even simpler. Once Hanhan scattered the enemy Pokémon and their handlers, Scyther would cut them down while they ran.

Spinarak hopped onto Reiji’s shoulder, watching for cheap shots. When Beedrill’s Poison Stings came flying, Protect flared and blocked them cleanly.

It went exactly how Reiji expected.

Poliwhirl drove in with two Ice Punches. Victreebel slammed into the ground so hard it left a crater, the surrounding soil caving in. In a single exchange, it went limp in the pit.

Kingler met the opposing Kingler and Pinsir head-on. With Iron Defense boosting it, those massive claws came down like hammers. A few heavy blows drove the enemy Kingler into the turf.

But Kingler’s strength wasn’t just size. Its body had mutated into raw power that far outstripped its own kind.

After crushing the other Kingler, it locked claws with Pinsir’s horn as Pinsir charged. A sharp crack split the air—Pinsir’s horn snapped. Kingler clamped down, lifted Pinsir, and slammed it into the grass again and again until it dropped.

Over on the other side, Hanhan was having the time of its life. The enemies in front of it might as well have been trees. It just needed to charge. If one charge didn’t launch them, it would do it again. In all its life, Hanhan had never met a ”tree” it couldn’t knock down.

Four or five poachers—and what Pokémon they still had standing—got driven straight into the forest, vanishing in seconds.

Scyther took Beedrill. Beedrill was fragile. Scyther flashed through the air, twin scythes slicing once, clean and fast. The Beedrill that had rushed in dropped from the sky in pieces.

A moment ago they’d looked fierce. One clash later, they were already broken. Reiji hadn’t even needed to take it seriously.

”Scyther, go get Rhyhorn. No need to chase,” Reiji said. ”Poliwhirl, Kingler—clean up. Toss the bodies into the river.”

The skirmish ended with Poliwhirl and the others overwhelming the field. Reiji hadn’t even used Darkrai or Gengar.

Hanhan had chased them into the forest, and Reiji didn’t want it getting lost, so he sent Scyther to bring it back.

As for the corpses—human and Pokémon—letting the river carry them out to sea was good enough. The Pokémon could handle it.

Only two or three of the poachers’ Pokémon had escaped with them. The rest were left behind on the grass. Two of the men were dead. Reiji didn’t even look. He didn’t want filth in his eyes.

When he returned to Quincy, the old man was staring at him, dazed. The fight had ended so fast he barely processed it. One moment the enemy was on them, the next they were gone.

Quincy had thought they were finished. Instead, the crisis evaporated. This kid he’d only known for a few days—he was reliable.

Quincy had always guessed Reiji was strong, but ”strong” had been vague in his head. Now he finally understood what it looked like.

”Old man Quincy, what do we do with this kid?” Reiji asked, waving a hand in front of Quincy’s eyes to pull him back.

Quincy snapped out of it and looked down at the boy in his arms. The immediate danger was over, but the problem wasn’t solved.

”I don’t know,” Quincy said. ”We wait for him to wake up first. Their ship is still out at sea. This isn’t over. They’ll come back…”

”You’ll stay here tonight. I’ll get you a tent,” Reiji said.

He went back to his tent, pulled out a new one from his pack, and had his Pokémon set it up. He also brought a blanket and covered the boy.

Quincy kept talking about the ship and the remaining members, but Reiji wasn’t too worried. If their boss had any brain at all, they wouldn’t come back.

They were in this for money. There was no reason to pick a fight with a powerful enemy unless that boy was unusually valuable—important, special, something like that.

But Spinarak had already checked the boy. He only had some scrapes, probably from sprinting through the forest. The reason he’d passed out was simple: too tired, too thirsty, too hungry. Quincy had already fed him some warm water.

And the boy had nothing on him. No valuables. Nothing worth risking a war over—except the boy himself.

Reiji didn’t believe their leader was stupid enough to throw lives away over a single hostage.

He’d erased four or five of them in seconds. Unless the boss had something wrong with his head, he wouldn’t come charging in next.

If they were coming back at all, Darkrai would confirm it. Reiji had already sent Darkrai out to eavesdrop.

[End of chapter]

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