The old man returned to the tavern. The patrons had all cleared out, leaving only a few waitress girls still tidying up the place.

They were resetting the tables and chairs that had been knocked over, getting ready for the next wave of customers.

But the old man waved his hand. "We're closing early tonight. Once you're done cleaning, clock out and go home."

Hearing they could leave early—and still get paid—the girls cheered with delight.

Still, a few of them glanced behind the old man and, not seeing Reiji's figure, let out a collective sigh of relief. One of them asked curiously, "Captain, has that scary guy left?"

"He's gone. Already headed down below," the old man replied with a long sigh, slumping onto a wooden stool by the bar.

"Captain, maybe don't try scamming people like that again," one of the girls pleaded. "You really scared everyone today."

"Yeah, I think it's time to just stick to selling booze. We almost lost the tavern tonight," the old man said. Even now, he still wasn't sure whether Reiji's 'bomb' had been real or not—because that kid was far too cautious.

He never admitted to the bluff and kept the detonator in his hand the entire time, never loosening his grip.

No matter what Reiji said, the old man couldn't afford to take his word for it.

In the end, he couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't—so he treated it as if it were real.

"Anything else you need, Captain?" one of the girls asked. They had finished cleaning and were ready to head home but wanted to know if there were any final instructions.

"When customers come in tomorrow and ask about tonight... just tell them the guy has blood on his hands. Warn them not to mess with him. That's all—whether they listen or not is up to them."

He waved them off, but his mind was already turning. He needed to think about how to deal with the other brother—the one who hadn't shown up yet.

Suddenly, he thought of the wounded man. "Right—how's that guy's condition?"

"He was taken to the hospital," one girl answered. "The doctor said it's nothing serious, but he'll need a long rest to recover."

"Heh. Serves him right. Always running up a tab just because of who his brother is—getting a good beating was overdue," the old man sneered.

He hadn't actually wanted to help the guy; it was just to avoid more trouble.

Just like Reiji guessed: the old man only helped to minimize complications while gaining a bit of favor. That favor was with the man's older brother, who was bound to come looking tomorrow—maybe he could finally pay off the tab.

And that wall… the old man looked at the hole that had been smashed through the solid brick wall. That Poliwhirl sure packed a punch.

He had thought about making the two brothers pay for the damage—but now he figured he'd be lucky just to get the ten thousand owed and the drinks tab settled. Fixing the wall could come out of his own pocket.

Reiji had managed to intimidate him, but the other brother? That guy wouldn't be nearly as hard to deal with.

He was a seasoned Trainer, sure, but both brothers were regulars—he knew them inside and out. Handling them would be easy.

Reiji, though… was a complete madman. A wild card who neither knew nor cared for rules. The threat in his words was never subtle.

The guy was reckless enough to actually destroy the place, and that Poliwhirl of his had wiped out both Mankey and the thug with a single blow—hard to get a read on someone like that.

Was it just the one strong Pokémon, or were all six of his team monsters?

When you didn't know what cards someone held, you either stayed far away—or took them out in one blow.

The old man had chosen cooperation. At the very least, he wanted to figure out how Reiji had raised that Poliwhirl—so he could pass it on to his own grandson.

Someday, when he was gone, his grandson would need to be strong enough to take over the tavern.

Muttering to himself, he looked at the two girls getting ready to leave. "You two—stay. Find someone to fix the wall. I'll settle the bill when I get back."

With that, he donned his hat, grabbed a Poké Ball, and walked out the door.

He had to act fast—Reiji would be expecting that ID card by tomorrow.

And if he didn't get it… that kid might actually tear the whole tavern down.

Reiji didn't follow the old man back. He leaned on the railing, watching a battle down in the arena below. Two Fighting-type Pokémon were squaring off.

"Machoke! Machoke! Machoke!"

"Hitmonlee! Hitmonlee! Hitmonlee!"

The crowd roared with excitement, shouting the names of the two fighters: Machoke and Hitmonlee.

From their height and weight, Machoke had the edge—listed at 70 kg compared to Hitmonlee's 50.

A solid 20-kilo advantage.

As for their strength? Reiji couldn't really tell. Their punches and kicks were evenly matched. Blow for blow, it was a tight contest.

He'd need to see their Poké Balls and skill panels to really gauge their levels.

That, of course, wasn't going to happen. But after watching for a while, he picked up on a few things.

The two Fighting-types used only punches, kicks, and standard Fighting-type moves. Nothing like Flamethrower or Dig.

It made sense—this was a Fighting-style match. Only physical and Fighting-type moves allowed.

Still, Machoke had used some elemental punch techniques, like Thunder Punch and Ice Punch. Those seemed to be fair game too.

Eventually, the match came to a climax.

"The winner of this match is…" the mustached announcer on the platform shouted excitedly into the mic, practically spitting on it in his fervor.

"It's Machoke! That's twelve consecutive wins for Machoke!"

"Let's hear it for Machoke! Twelve wins in a row!"

The crowd erupted as Machoke stood tall in the ring, soaking up the cheers and applause. The loser quietly slinked off—nobody would remember them.

People only remembered the winner. First place. The most dazzling one on stage.

Even from afar, Reiji could feel his blood boiling. He wanted to cheer too.

But he held it in. He wouldn't get swept up in the moment.

Because one day, he and Poliwhirl would stand up there—on that very stage—or on an even bigger one—and earn that roar of the crowd.

Those cheers were for the winner. Machoke and his Trainer were the stars of the show now.

But they weren't arrogant. Even after twelve straight wins, they showed no trace of arrogance—just determination.

That, Reiji thought, was probably why Machoke had won. A strong will and calm mind were the bedrock of victory.

They knew how to use their strengths to target their opponent's weaknesses—and press the advantage.

Machoke had sealed the win with Thunder Punch and Ice Punch, leaving Hitmonlee with status conditions. Hitmonlee couldn't retaliate with its usual Blaze Kick—it relied entirely on its legs.

In the end, Machoke's Trainer had him sidestep Hitmonlee's kicks, and that sealed the deal.

After the match, Reiji called for Poliwhirl a couple times but didn't hear a response.

Poliwhirl was still staring at the ring, eyes sparkling with envy, fixed on Machoke standing proudly in the center.

It wanted to be up there. With Reiji. Hearing the roar of the crowd.

"Poliwhirl, you saw that, right?" Reiji crouched down and gently patted its head, joining it in watching the stage.

"Yobo?" Poliwhirl looked away from the ring in confusion. Were they about to enter the ring too?

"This is why we came to the human world," Reiji said. "Do you want that kind of glory too?"

"Yobo!" Poliwhirl nodded firmly. It wanted that more than anything. It wanted to stand on the stage with Reiji.

"Then let's work hard, together. One day, we'll be up there. On a bigger stage. With everyone cheering our names."

"Yobo! Yobo!" Poliwhirl clenched its white fist, fire in its eyes. It swore silently: it would stand beside Reiji, in the spotlight, basking in the roar of the world.

"Alright, time to go," Reiji said. He had no idea that Poliwhirl's heart had just shifted—no longer just protecting him, but striving now for shared glory and thunderous cheers.

Reiji wandered through the underground fighting complex. This place could seat tens of thousands—and there were four arenas like it.

Together, they formed an underground world.

Beyond the arenas lay the marketplace. Lined with shops and stalls, it sold anything and everything Pokémon-related.

It was packed with people like Reiji—masked faces, shady backgrounds, all dealing in items legal and illegal alike.

Many Pokémon that were banned by the League were being openly sold here. There were even full shops selling live Pokémon.

If it was related to Pokémon or Trainers, you could find it here.

But it was a chaotic mix. Plenty of strong Trainers too. Fighting was strictly forbidden—no exceptions. Reiji had to stay sharp.

So far, he'd only watched from the sidelines. He hadn't bought or sold anything.

Not yet. He planned to observe for a few days first—get a sense of market prices—before offloading the Pokémon he'd taken from the poachers.

From common to rare, nearly every catchable Pokémon was on sale.

He even saw Water-type starters labeled as prized stock—starting at tens of millions.

Besides Pokémon, there were all kinds of Trainer items—healing sprays, antidotes, burn heals, paralysis cures.

Plenty of cheap gear too—worse than the Magnet or Mystic Water he had.

Even low-purity evolution stones—some only 20-30% pure—were ridiculously expensive.

Water Stones, Thunder Stones, and Leaf Stones were the top sellers—and had the craziest prices.

There were also Pokémon foods and drinks for young Pokémon.

To Reiji's surprise, Pokéblocks were already on the market.

He lingered at a food stall for a while but saw hardly anyone buying Pokéblocks—at most, a handful at a time.

Clearly they were too expensive for widespread use—far pricier than normal food.

Beyond gear and food, the market sold knowledge—books on breeding, training, moves, battle tactics. Mostly low-grade stuff, like what he'd taken from the poachers.

The real secrets? No one would ever sell those. That was family heritage.

Still, the black market had everything: from standard League goods to outright illegal ones.

It had everything—except the truly rare stuff.

No baby legendaries. No pseudo-legendaries. No Silver Wing.

If he pulled out the Silver Wing here, he'd be swarmed and ripped apart in seconds. That wasn't a joke.

An item that could summon Lugia—the value was immeasurable.

After finishing his circuit of the black market and watching another battle, Reiji checked his watch. Past 11 p.m.—time to head back.

No one had noticed him. He was just another masked face in a sea of traffic.

Poliwhirl and Spinarak weren't flashy. Water Stones were too expensive—most Trainers avoided investing in Poliwhirl because of that.

Here, Poliwhirl was considered mediocre. Psyduck, Krabby, and other Water-types were more popular—though Psyduck's evolution path was confusing.

Reiji chose a random exit. He paused in the hallway, confirming no one followed, then headed up.

At the end of the tunnel was an iron door. When it sensed someone approaching, it slid open automatically—a sensor door.

He stepped out into an alley. The door closed behind him, blending back into the wall with its grey-brown camouflage.

Without delay, Reiji released Pelipper, recalled Poliwhirl, and took to the skies.

Tonight's exploration of the black market had truly opened his eyes—it was a different world beneath the surface.

Everything he needed could be found there. But he wasn't in a rush.

He still needed valid ID. He wanted to compare prices between the city and the underground.

He needed to learn what was banned, what wasn't. Only then could he decide—

Whether to shop in the black market…

Or in Kinnow City itself.

[End of Chapter]

[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]

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